Day 2: July 8, 2011
We woke up to cowboys on horses herding a huge group of sheep to pasture. It was very surreal.
There had initially been rumor that we might stay another night at this camp site and just trek for the day. I have never in my life appreciated the sheer physical strength and energy that goes into setting up and taking down camp for 400+ people. We waited for the final word and were disappointed to find out that we had to move. Despite the terrible conditions of the camp, it seemed daunting to take everything down…but take it down we did. We got to work and met as a stake on top of the hill outside camp for our morning devotional.
Captain Willie (our trail boss) and Levi Savage (our stake president) met with us to discuss our options.
From the personal journal of Levi Savage:
August 13, 1856, Wednesday. Florance. Nebraska Territory. Today we continued preparations for starting. Evening we held meeting in camp. Brother Willey exhorted the Saints to go forward regardless of suffering even to death. After he had spoken, he gave me the opportunity of speaking. I said to him that if I spoke I must speak my mind, let it cut where it would. He said certainly to do so. I then related to the Saints the hardships that we should have to endure. I said that we were liable to have to wade in snow up to our knees and shovel at night, lay ourselves in a thin blanket and lie on the frozen ground without a bed. I said that it was not like having a wagon that we could go into and wrap ourselves in as much as we like and lay down. “No,” said I, “we are without wagons, destitute of clothing and could not carry it if we had it. We must go as we are. The handcart system I do not condemn. I think t preferable to unbroken oxen and experienced teamsters. The lateness of the season was my only objection to leaving this point for the mountains at this time. I spoke warmly upon the subject, but spoke truth, and the people, judging from appearance and expressions, felt the force of it. (However, the most of them determined to go forward, if the authorities say so.) Elder Willey then spoke again in reply to what I had said, evidently dissatisfied. He said that the God that he served was a God that was able to save to the uttermost. He said that was the God that he served, and he wanted no Job’s comforters with him. I then said that what I had said was the truth, and if Elder Willey did not want me to act in the place where I am, he is at full liberty to place another man in my stead. I would not think hard of him for it, But, I did not care what he said about Job’s comforters, I had spoken nothing but the truth and he knew it. Elder Atwood then spoke mildly and to the purpose. He said that he had been listening to what had been said. He exhorted the Saints to pray to God and get a revelation and know for themselves whether they should go or stay, for it was their privilege to know for themselves. The meeting was dismissed, all manifesting a good feeling and spirit.”
‘Brethren and sisters, what I have said I know to be true; but, seeing you are to go forward, I will go with you, will help you all I can, will work with you, will rest with you, will suffer with you, and, if necessary, I will die with you. May God in his mercy bless and preserve us. Amen. ’” (Levi Savage)
After Captain Willie and Brother Savage had made their remarks, they gave each family some time to discuss the issue and make a decision. They brought the entire company back together and asked for a vote. It was decided we would continue to Zion.
After a couple of miles, we stopped for lunch and then proceeded another short distance before the handcarts were asked to stop and the young men and women were separated. The young men climbed a steep hill to gather and hold a devotional. The young women and all the handcarts stayed at the bottom of the hill and we had a devotional regarding some of the women in the handcart trains and the service and sacrifices they were asked to make. They emphasized that as women, if we are willing to work together in unity and not tear each other apart, we could accomplish anything. After the devotional, the young women were informed that the next portion of the steep uphill trail was one they were going to have to do alone. The “Ma’s” could walk next to the handcarts but we were not allowed to help. The young men were standing along the side of the trail towards the top but they had been instructed that they were not to help. As each family of girls in our ward stood and headed back to prepare the handcarts, I noticed that each family was bowing their head in prayer. Our family was no exception…and in every instance, the suggestion that the families stop to offer prayer was made by one of the young women. My heart truly swelled with immense gratitude for these girls and their examples in my life. I don’t know many teenage girls who suggest to their adult leaders that they pray when faced with an overwhelming, daunting task. It was humbling.
I walked beside these girls as they pulled these handcarts up this steep hill. These handcarts each weighed between 350-400 lbs. and not one of the girls in our group are very “big”. Each handcart had 3 girls…1 in front and 2 pushing from behind…and it was hard! I watched each of their faces etched with grim determination, straining at the heavy load, and sweating with the exertion. But not one…not one…stopped and refused to go on. Not one girl complained about the task being too hard. They did it. And as one group reached the top, the girls would quickly park the handcart and then race down the hill to help the next handcart. These girls can do hard things…spiritually, emotionally, and physically. If they are determined, committed, armed with testimonies of Jesus Christ, and put their faith in the gospel, they will march forth in this world with light and make a difference. They have the ability to stand for truth and righteousness. They are women not to be dismissed or trifled with. They truly are an army fit for this time in the world. I felt hope watching them.
Once all the handcarts were at the top, we were instructed to take some time to sit as families and discuss this experience. Our youth leaders led the discussion and it was excellent.
We continued along the trail and made our way into camp for the night. The day was bright and beautiful and our campsite that night was exquisite. I felt so, so grateful that we had not stayed in that last camp. A great gospel lesson…despite the miserable conditions of that last camp, most of us wanted to stay. We didn’t want to do all the work that was required to take camp down and move. But I can’t tell you how greatly we were blessed! Not being afraid of hard work is such an important attribute…and one I continue to struggle with. I shy away from hard things…physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Often those hard things require a huge deviation from our comfort zones and place us in situations where we are asked to really reach inside ourselves. It is hard work to build a strong family, to live the gospel of Jesus Christ with strict obedience, to find and make the time to attend the temple, to serve faithfully in church callings, do monthly home and visiting teaching…but the blessings are so sweet. We have so much to do and accomplish. We can’t shun the fight. And we continue to find joy in being obedient and accomplishing something you didn’t think, or know, you could do.
We set up camp, ate a delicious dinner, and spent the evening playing pioneer games and square dancing. The kids had so much fun!
As the sun was setting, we gathered for an evening devotional that focused on the importance of our earthly families. We sang some songs and heard some really inspiring stories of pioneers who drew the strength and found the courage to do hard things by clinging to the relationships in their families.
I think Emily Hill, a handcart pioneer, understood the principle of cherishing and watching over another. As she and her sister Julia struggled over Rocky Ridge in terrible conditions—in a 27-hour, 15-mile march—they were in desperate straits. Julia’s granddaughter later shared this dream she had about the sisters:
“I could see Julia and Emily stranded in the snow on the windy summit of Rocky Ridge with the rest of the Willie handcart company. They had no heavy clothing to keep them warm. Julia was sitting in the snow, shaking. She could not carry on. Emily, who was freezing as well, knew that if she did not help Julia stand up, Julia would die. As Emily wrapped her arms around her sister to help her up, Julia began to cry—but no tears came, only soft whimpering sounds. Together they walked slowly to their handcart. Thirteen died that terrible night. Julia and Emily survived.”
We must watch over one another. It’s how we will survive the difficulties and challenges of our day. As we genuinely lift and praise and build one another, we contribute to the sort of righteous sociality we all long for, in this life and the next.
I am so moved by the story of handcart pioneer James Kirkwood. An 11-year-old boy from Glasgow, Scotland, he traveled to Zion in the Willie Company with his mother and three brothers. His older brother Robert was crippled, so his mother Margaret and 19-year-old brother Thomas pushed Robert in the handcart. That left James with the charge to care for his 4-year-old brother, Joseph, on the climb over the 7,300-foot Rocky Ridge. This was the same terrible night that Emily and Julia Hill endured, and it was a 15-mile journey that took 27 hours for most. On that night, James fell behind the rest of the party, carrying his little brother. I can see him trying to warm his freezing hands, shifting the weight of his brother on his back. When the pair finally arrived at the campfire that night, James set his brother down and then died from exhaustion and exposure, literally giving his life for his brother.
I am so inspired by James. How can I be casual or uncommitted if I expect to go where I believe he now is? Why should we think to earn a great reward if we now shun the fight? His story teaches me that to truly be a saint I must surrender my will to God in whatever way He asks of me.
(Brigham Young University-Idaho Devotional July 12, 2011, "To Be a Saint", Jill Evans)
As we were enjoying as amazing sunset over the hills and singing the closing song, 2 horses with riders came racing over the ridge and into camp. They announced that they were the Pony Express and had come to deliver mail to the youth in the stake. Each company (ward) received a packet of letters and we headed back to camp to distribute these letters and give the youth some quiet time to read, ponder, and reflect on the events of the day. Each youth in the stake received a letter from their parents. And I can testify that those letters meant more to those youth than their parents may ever know. I looked around our campsite at the youth, sitting on their buckets by themselves on that open, beautiful prairie and weeping openly at the sweet words that had been written by their parents. Even our big “tough” young men cried. The Spirit was so strong. Chris and I pulled up our buckets so we were sitting knee to knee with each other and talked. I am so grateful for this man that I am married to. He is good to the very core. He has such intense desires to be a good husband, a good father, and a faithful son to his Heavenly Father. I love and admire him so much and am so grateful to be on this mortal journey into eternity with him!
We met afterwards for a testimony meeting with our ward around the campfire. It was wonderful to hear some of the youth bear their testimonies and to feel the combined strength of their characters. As I was listening to the feelings being expressed, I had the image of a picture that used to hang in our house of my brother Chip waiting for the baton to be passed in a relay race he was running. He is standing with his body poised, ready for the baton to be handed off and to run his leg of the race as fast and steady as he could. The whole team was depending on each member doing their part and running their portion of the race as well as possible. My father wrote a poem that hung with the picture about how the principles of the relay race apply to our lives and I felt that point really taking place in my heart. I wore around my wrist the name of a grandmother who had truly run her portion of the race with honor, faith, courage, and testimony…and then she passed the baton to her daughter, who passed it to my grandmother, who passed it to me. I suddenly saw in my mind this long line of stalwart women who had sacrificed all they had for the gospel and were now rooting for me in the wings as I took that baton and ran my part of the race. We truly are all connected together in one unbreakable chain. I believe there are angels constantly around us and it only makes sense that those people would be those who have the greatest vested interest in our happiness and well-being…our families. We have the opportunity to encourage and uplifted by each other as each of us face the trials and challenges our lives will bring. And not one of those women in that chain was spared discouragement, trial or pain. But just like we had learned in the women’s pull, if we stand unified, we can overcome anything. I feel enormous gratitude for the many members of my family, past, present, and future, who uplift and inspire me with the manner that they meet their challenges, with their devotion to love and service, and with their capacity to love and encourage.
"Tell John I Died With My Face Toward Zion"
James Steele shades the face of Mary Murray Murdoch, known lovingly as "Wee Granny." Mary's physical strength carried her only to Chimney Rock, Nebraska, but her spiritual strength was manifest in her request to have the Steeles tell her son John that she died facing Zion. That testimony still burns in the hearts of her posterity.
