If you’re looking for interesting stories of common frontier folk on the family
Web site, I don’t know how you could do better than the story told about
William Abram and Nancy Lena Guhl McIntosh. There’s mystery, joy, sadness and tragedy all wrapped into their tale.
The history of their lives together was written by their son, John Willard McIntosh (1886-1971). Up front, he offers a couple of interesting details about his grandmother,
Caroline Elizabeth Caldwell McIntosh (we focused on her a couple of weeks ago). For example, speaking of his father, William Abram, who was born in
St. John, Utah, in 1859: “When he was three months old his father died, and his mother was left with four children: Isaac, by a previous marriage, Mary Anne and John David. My father was the youngest. A year or two later his mother married George Dymock and one son was born to them, named George.
“Shortly after his [George’s] birth his father left St. John and hasn't been heard of since. My grandmother was left alone now with five children.”
John Willard reveals not much is known about his father, except that he was in the “sheep business” with his brother, until he was married in 1883, but that he “went out of it approximately 1893, during the
panic.”
It’s interesting to notice what impressed the young John Willard, who wrote of his father: “He was a lover of sports, foot racing, wrestling and especially baseball, being pitcher most of the time. I have seen him walk across a baseball diamond on his hands.” That would, I think, qualify as athletic.
Then comes an intriguing section, to my way of thinking, anyway: “After his marriage to my mother, they built a small home in St. John. This building, somewhat remodeled, is still standing. They moved a house from Clover that belonged to my grandmother, and put it 18 to 20 feet north of their home. My grandmother lived here until my parents moved to Wyoming in 1900. They later built a room between the two buildings.”
Now, I don’t know when John Willard wrote this history. He died in 1971, but at some point before that, the building apparently was still there; one of my goals has been to trek to St. John, have a look-see at the county property records and see if I can find the location of their home and farm. I spoke with the Tooele County recorder last year, and she told me the records are available. It could be, too, that some McIntoshes are still in the neighborhood and might know what I’m looking for.
John Willard also notes that his father’s work included the following: “My father used to butcher beef and sell the meat in the town and surrounding towns. He did some freighting, hauling milled ore from
Ophir to the terminus of the railroad near Stockton.”
For those of us in Utah who’ve dabbled in rockhounding and desert camping, the towns of the Tintic Mining District, which include Ophir, are lots of fun to poke around in – I did a lot of it as a kid, and even wrote a newspaper story or two about the area when I was a reporter.
As for the butchering business, John Willard writes: “I remember quite often when beef was butchered the Indians from Skull Valley, who often stopped near our house, would take the entrails -- tripe being a special delicacy among the Indians.”
John Willard also recalls his mother, Nancy Lena: “My mother was a deeply religious woman. We often went to meetings which seemed terribly long.” And, “While Mother had very little schooling, she was quite a reader. Reading and spelling seemed a natural gift.”
He writes, too, about the particulars of the family’s move to Wyoming’s Big Horn Basin in 1900 – to a 160-acre piece of land south of Burlington: “They got to Bridger, Montana, the nearest railroad station to Burlington, and unloaded their stock and household goods -- which they loaded on wagons and took by team to Burlington. They arrived in Burlington Oct. 1, 1900. There was on the place then a two-room log, dirt-roofed cabin.
“The farm had about 30 acres of cultivated alfalfa hay. In the spring of 1901, some 20-30 acres of sagebrush land was plowed and put into crop. The means of transportation was team and wagon. …
“In 1901, a tract of land adjoining the present town was purchased by my father and others, and divided into city lots and sold for building lots. People had very little money but there was good community spirit. Everyone shared in many ways and were very helpful in times of need.”
The tragedy struck: “In March 1903, my father died after an operation for appendicitis. Mother was left with eight children -- the eldest 17 and the youngest 1. A few years later we moved into town, having built a two-room house at the east of the lot my father acquired before his death.
“We still continued to run the ranch by renting it, and later by my brother and me. We, as a family, did janitor work for the school for a number of years, and we later bought a house and had it moved several miles to our town lot on the southeast corner next to the main road. This house was a frame, shingle-roof building, three rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs. This provided a much more comfortable house than we had before. The previous one had a dirt roof and in wet weather we had to set pans on the floor to catch the rain.
“Our home was a place where we often had many of our age group, and would gather in socials and games. Quite a bedlam, sometimes, but Mother enjoyed it.”
And there’s more, lots more. So
click here and have a look for yourself. And, as always, please comment or write me an e-mail and I’ll post your comments for you.
At the same time she was writing her letters, she was keeping a travel journal that’s also on the Web site. In spring 1912, she had taken the train to Utah to visit family she left a dozen years earlier. It’s fun to read the two together.
example in the Nov. 7, 1912, letter:
I hope all of you had a chance to read through our late Uncle Rip’s recollections of his youth in Burlington, Wyoming, over the past week. If you haven’t, make a point of doing so – it’s worth reading. (Nobody clicked on the “comments” button at the bottom of last week’s post, so maybe no one is reading this stuff. If not, I’m content entertaining myself.)
