A Woman Started it All: Sabina Larson Baxter.

Sabina Larson Baxter, Founding Saint

Sabina Baxter

The first name to be recorded in reference to the origins of the church in Sparks is Sabina Baxter. She officially inaugurated the momentum of the branch when she wrote mission President Robison to send missionaries to Sparks to conduct official business of the priesthood.

      There are two confirmed sources that give substantial evidence for Sabina’s historical status: the records of the branch, and Giles Vanderhoof who documented the origins with his presence and personal records. 

Not much is known about Sabina and her family. Given the fact this woman initiated the first Sabbath worship under priesthood authority, it would not be proper to leave her name as nothing more than a mention. Therefore, research of her life was undertaken through public records which afforded a fair amount of material for an introduction.

       Sabina was born in Sweden in 1882. Within 8 months of her birth, Sabina’s parents, who had joined the church, underwent transition from life in beautiful Sweden to the harsh reality of living in the Utah desert. She lived the greater part of her younger years in Ogden.

      Marrying a railroader was common for Ogden brides. Leroy R. Baxter, her sweetheart, was, according to his draft records, of medium height and weight, blue eyes and light brown hair. He fought in the short lived Spanish American war of 1898. By 1904, he was a fireman for the Southern Pacific Railroad. Sabina married him in Wells, Elko County, Nevada on May 13, 1905. By their wedding date, he had been promoted to locomotive engineer. He was 25 years of age, Sabina was 22.

     The couple’s first baby was born in Nampa, Idaho in 1908. They named him Alma. The first in a series of unfortunate life's events took place that day; for Alma died the day he was born.   

     In the divine course of events, shortly after their first child was born, Sabina and LeRoy were transferred to Sparks where they would have another baby in September of 1909. He was a healthy baby boy they named Blaine LeRoy.

     Obviously when the Baxters moved to town, Sabina found there were no missionaries or other organization of the church. She took it upon herself to request the missionaries.

       The census records of 1910 reveal the Baxter family rented their home along with a boarder. It also indicates the missionaries, Joseph Harris and George Esplin, were their neighbors. 

Most of the railroader homes in Sparks were small, especially compared to today’s standard homes. Regardless of size, the very first missionary cottage meeting was held in Sabina’s home with 30 people in attendance. It was the first of many to be held in her home.

Faithful Sister Baxter, attended worship services, bore strong, powerful testimony attended with her gratitude for the organization of the branch. She provided the missionaries with vital resources to function. Her devotion was duly noted but her husband’s was not.

Regardless of the fact that LeRoy was born in Utah from Mormon pioneer stock; he was never baptized as a child. Finally in 1914, at the age of 34, LeRoy was baptized, one month after their daughter Marjorie was born in Imlay, Nevada.       

Another transfer to Idaho brought the blessing of another birth in August of 1917. Harry Larson Baxter lived three months before he too died.

The last and final move for the family brought them back full circle. The Baxter family moved to Utah by 1922 where their little 7 year old daughter, Marjorie died and was buried in the Ogden Cemetery.

Trials of the day without modern medical intervention meant a closer look at death than current practice and procedures to sustain life. It is not known if the knowledge of being sealed as a forever family motivated them to enjoy the blessings of a temple marriage or not, but LeRoy and Sabina took their family to the Salt Lake Temple to be sealed together in June, 1920.

Sabina’s life was drawn short when she died of a stomach ulcer at age 49. Faithful to the end, her obituary stated she was a member of the Salt Lake Stake Genealogical Society.

Trouble followed three years after Sister Baxter’s early demise. In 1935, Blaine was employed as a motorcycle police officer in Salt Lake for six months before he died in a horrible high speed chase. While trying to stop an accelerating car in the streets of downtown Salt Lake, he swerved to avoid a car that turned in front of him. Blaine crashed into the wall of a building and died as a result of the injuries he sustained. At age 26, he was survived by a wife who only lived 2-3 years after him, one child, a sister and his father.

One year after Blaine died; there was another traffic accident fatality. LeRoy, Sabina’s husband, died at age 59 of a fractured skull and broken shoulder sustained from an automobile collision in Springville, Utah.

June, a daughter born in 1921, survived seeing her sister, mother, brother and father pass on. She remained single until later in life when she then married. Without having children, she died in 1977

Reunited as a family on the other side, they enjoy the full extent of their devotion to the gospel. More particularly, Sabina’s devoted enthusiasm to establish a missionary presence in the Truckee Meadows. 

  

Picture taken from Sabina’s obituary in the Salt Lake Tribune Aug. 12, 1932

Introducing Pioneer Saints: Giles and Artie Vanderhoof

         

Giles Vanderhoof.

Giles , with his wife, Artie Vanderhoof, and their family, have the distinct privilege of being present at the inception of the branch. Giles’ place in history as the first to be ordained a priest, the first Sunday School Superintendent and the first member branch president exalts him as a true pioneer saint. His wife, Artie was the first Sunday School Secretary, the very first convert and first Relief Society president. She served diligently for 12 years in that capacity. Their children were among the first to be blessed by the missionaries. Estella, their daughter was the first female of the branch to serve a mission.

Giles often spoke of the branch milestones as he bore fervent testimony during the next several decades. As time went on Giles’ insistent voice of reflective appreciation gradually faded. Today, the recollections of their names and contributions have been swept into the undertow of current events rather than being revered and honored as the initiates of the branch.

     In acknowledgement of their relevance as the founding saints of the church in 1910, a short history of the family is given to acquaint their contributions for all future generations.

  The following Vanderhoof information was taken from branch records, family records, journals, interviews and remembrances given by the family.

Giles Edgar Vanderhoof was born June 19, 1879 in North Ogden, Utah Territory with strong Mormon pioneer heritage.  He came from a large, tempestuous, ranching family.  His fifteen brothers and sisters grew up with strong opinions and didn’t defer those opinions even if it meant a heated argument or fists.

Young Giles was educated at the North Ogden “Common” school and graduated on June 16, 1884.  He had three years of high school and two years at Weber Stake Academy.

Giles is Second from the Left.

At age 23, Giles began his railroad career as a locomotive fireman in the Salt Lake Division of Southern Pacific.  He was the fireman on the second train to cross the new trestle work for the Lucin cut-off in 1903. [The Lucin Cutoff railroad line and trestle,  crossed the Great Salt Lake in Utah. Built by the Southern Pacific Company between February 1902 and March 1904 across Promontory Point, it bypassed the original Central Pacific Railroad route through Promontory Summit where the Golden Spike was driven in 1869. By going west across the lake from Ogden, Utah to Lucin, Utah, it cut off 43 miles and avoided curvatures and grades.] (Wikipedia information)

Artie's Graduation Picture

In May of 1903, he met a beautiful young woman working as a typist in the Ogden State Bank; her name was Artie Ethel Wilson.  She was born on January 10, 1882 in Frisco, Beaver County, Utah Territory.  When she was very young the family moved to Ogden where she lived a happy life and played the normal games of childhood. 

When she was old enough to attend school she was enrolled in Ogden’s Gordon Grammar School then went on to high school at Ogden City High, graduating June 4, 1857. She enjoyed parties, dances and occasional sweethearts.   

When Giles and Artie started courting, Artie’s family did not approve of the relationship. They felt that Giles, the cowboy, did not measure up to her family’s educational standards.  Obviously, her family held little sway. For the next two years, they had a wonderful courtship which culminated with their marriage on May 25, 1903.  Their first home was in Odgen, Utah.

It was while living in Ogden their home was blessed with a baby boy. Lee was born February 2, 1904.  Then a few months later in August 1905, a baby girl; but this one God called back to be with Him the next day. 

Giles was promoted to Locomotive Engineer on January 4, 1907 and sent to Sparks, Nevada to work the switch engine of the Southern Pacific. He made occasional trips back to Ogden to be with his young family; being separated disheartened them both.

It was during this lonely time apart, on April 30, 1907, Artie was sent a tiny girl they named Bernice.  Six months after Giles was transferred, Artie decided to make a home for her husband and unite their family again. She bade farewell to family and friends in Ogden and boarded the train for Sparks with a two-month old baby and a three year old at her side.

The family lived for three years in a little home at 1610 A Street where their daughter, Lucille Maud was born on October 10, 1909.  They would then move to 531 8^th Street, later named Pyramid Way, where four more children were born. 

Two months before the church membership of 30 people met in the Baxter’s home for the first time, Artie and Giles were blessed with a daughter they named Lucille. Her life was short, for she lived only 10 years.

The Mormon missionaries arrived in Sparks, December of 1909. The following month, January 4, 1910, Giles and Artie had their three children blessed by the elders.  In February, Giles would be set apart as the Sunday School Superintendent. The first Sunday School was held in their home. The missionaries proceeded to teach Artie the gospel, who embraced it with all her heart.  On March 12, 1910 Artie became the first convert baptism.  She was baptized in an irrigation ditch, near Oddie Boulevard, between 8^th and 9^th streets in Sparks.  Each month of their new church activity built stepping stones for a lifetime of service and devotion.

There were frequent changes of the presiding missionary elder during the next year making it a struggle to keep the branch going.   By March 26, 1911, Giles was given responsibility for the little group of saints as the presiding elder. Giles continued to be the Sunday School Superintendent, as well as the presiding elder until the branch had grown sufficiently strong to be reorganized in 1919 with Giles as the official branch president.  The branch included a vast area which not only took in the Reno area, but the territory from the California state line east to Wells, Nevada.  The area included Fallon, where he especially loved to work with the Indians – his beloved Lamanites as he referred to them.  President Vanderhoof baptized several during the early years of the branch.

Giles labored strenuously as he worked on his switch engine seven days a week (very few holidays or vacation times) yet never neglected any of his church duties.  Very early in the morning each Sunday, Giles would take his daughter Bernice and climb the steep stairs to the lodge room at the rear of the dance hall at Robinson’s Hall.  There, the pungent odor of stale beer and cigars from the lodge meeting the night before were so overpowering that it was difficult to conduct meetings.  The church members sat around big tin tubs that had the residue of beer and cigars inside and out of them from the previous night. Giles, with broom and mop, cleaned up the vile mess while little Bernice shivered in the cold air from the open windows necessary to air the place out.  Then he would hold Sunday School.

During this time there was no one to play the piano for the singing portion of Sunday School. One Sunday morning, the first counselor, Peter L. Ferguson, picked Bernice up and sat the little girl on the piano stool insisting she play for them.  He kissed her cheek and said, “Of course you can do it, kid!”  She was very frightened but without Pete, she said, “I never could have made it! I will never forget our first song that day ---‘Catch the Sunshine.’  “From then on, I covered that seat all my growing up years.”

Next to his little family, Giles’ greatest love was his church, his garden and his Rhode Island Red chickens.  He took great pride in his garden.  He always had early peas and new potatoes which Artie cooked to perfection; fresh green onions, lettuce, radishes, etc. They shared the produce with everyone, especially the hungry missionaries. 

President Vanderhoof so diligently studied the scriptures, that none could inquire as to any Biblical or other church subject matter and immediately be shown not only the page but have it quoted chapter and verse.  His study and knowledge of his religion was unequaled.

Giles was known to grab his Bible from home then cross the street to the Catholic Church.  He loved to talk with the priests about the scriptures until they grew weary of him and refused to answer the door when he’d ring. 

By September 14, 1911 another little girl was sent to the family.  This one was named Phoebe June, for Artie’s mother

Artie had been a member of the church about three years when she and Giles had the privilege of going to the temple on October 23, 1913 to be sealed to each other and their five children.  The last three children would be born under the covenant.

In the summer of 1914, Lee, the oldest child and only son at the time, was invited to spend the summer with his Vanderhoof grandparents on their ranch in Idaho/Utah. (The state line ran between their barn and house.)

Bernice remembers, “I was very small, and Mama had told me it was my bedtime.  But I kept walking around Lee until Mama had to tell me a second time.  I whispered to her, “But I wanna kiss him goodbye.”  Lee made a face and said, “Aw, I don’t kiss girls,” but Mama made him kiss me and I was so happy.  It is sad, because the next time I kissed him it was on his icy-cold forehead, as Daddy held me up to do so in the mortuary in Odgen, Utah.” 

On August 11, the family received tragic news that Lee lost his life in a terrible accident. As Grandpa Vanderhoof was building a new home that summer, he and Lee, made a trip to Tremonton, Utah, for building supplies. For their return trip they planned to stay overnight at the Dilly Ranch. Before arriving at their destination Lee was killed by three drunken men in an automobile. 

Grief-stricken, the family was grateful they had the gospel to comfort them and most grateful for the knowledge they would have the privilege of seeing their son again.

Later, little sister Lucile, nearly ten years of age was taken to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Reno with an acute attack of appendicitis.  A ruptured appendix, with antibiotics unknown then—and she, too, never returned home again.

On February 11, 1916, Giles and Artie were again endowed with another choice spirit, a baby boy whom they lovingly named Giles Leon. He, in return for their loving care and teaching, was a faithful and devoted son who magnified his Priesthood.  He later served in the bishopric in Sparks as well as in Reno.

On October 21, 1920, one more baby boy was given to Artie and Giles, this one they named Melvin, after a dear, beloved missionary they grew fond of.

On April 28, 1932, sorrow entered their home again; twenty one year old Phoebe had been called back by God. Now they had lost four out of their eight children.

All of the old-time missionaries knew the Vanderhoof home well.  Always dining with the family and sometimes living there as well. Artie seldom prepared dinner for her family only, they always had a guest, or guests. The missionaries loved her dearly, and vice versa.

Artie and Giles made the missionaries a “home away from home.”  They thrived on Giles’ big garden, his raspberry and gooseberry patch, from which Artie made delicious pies, jam, etc. . . She’d make a pie, along with the lightest of biscuits, as she prepared the main meal. Everyone loved her fried chicken.  Giles would kill two Rhode Island chickens every Sunday to have Artie’s “made to taste” fried chicken.  It’s a memory all of her children and grandchildren remember.

It was from their little home, on May 13, 1938, that the family joyfully sent their baby sister, Stella, on her California Mission and welcomed her home just before Christmas in 1939.   

Giles and Artie's 50th Wedding Anniversary

The Vanderhoof’s daughter, Bernice reflects about their home, “There was much laughter and gaiety in our home, parties and meetings galore.  My brother Giles and his wife Floral were married in the parlor by our father, Giles. The gala 50^th wedding celebration for the folks had the walls of that little old home bulging.  In days long gone, the folks had oyster parties, taffy pulls, charades and worlds of fun parties.  At one of them, coats were piled high on my bed and as I went to retire, there was still a baby there.  In the excitement, Linnie Rossiter had gone, but forgotten to take her baby!”

Bernice continues, “I remember when a very small, Sunday School was held in one of the various halls at Christmas time.  There was a beautiful fir tree with lighted candles included in its decoration –that was before bulbs were used.  I didn’t know my Daddy was the Santa until, as he reached across a lighted candle for a gift, the white cotton on the cuff of his suit caught on fire.  Oh, my, what a frightening hubbub!”                                                                           

Giles Vanderhoof and Missionary Companion

One by one all the children were married and Artie and Giles were left alone.  After 43 years Giles retired from the railroad. Then in October, 1945 Giles was thrilled to receive a call to serve an 18-month mission in Minnesota for the church.  Artie sustained him in his mission wholeheartedly.  At the end of Giles’ mission, using her Engineer’s Railway System pass, Artie went back to Minnesota to meet him. On the way home they enjoyed a visit with their Vanderhoof Michigan relatives and genealogy research.

As the years went by, Giles health began to fail rapidly.  Their son, Giles Leon and his wife, asked his folks to live with them so they could assist in their care. Residing for 50 years in one house made it hard to leave their home full of cherished memories. 

After enduring a long illness, Giles’ frail body succumbed on December 18, 1960. He passed away at age 81 to be reunited with friends and loved ones on the other side of the veil. Artie lived another twelve years. She died August 10, 1972 in Livermore, California.

Their footsteps can now be known and firmly planted among the stalwart pioneers and saints into perpetuity.  

      

        

        

Introducing the Founding Saints of Our Local Church!

                                                    THE FOUNDING SAINTS

Sparks Railroad Yard with Original Roundhouse

 Several families employed by the railroad were transferred from Ogden, Utah, to Sparks, Nevada in the early 1900’s when repair and maintenance shops in Ogden closed. At the time, Ogden was a fairly small railroad town with a large percentage of Mormon Church membership. As families were transferred and settled in Sparks, they felt a warm familiarity upon meeting other Ogden transfers. Ogden people either knew each other or they knew of each other’s families. The association and bond was gratifying since they generally had no extended family to associate with so far away from home.

   Unknowingly, the railroad was the medium whereby the church was established. A small nucleus of Ogden railroad transfer families became the heart of the formative branch and a new assembly of saints.

   Through turbulent times and joyous occasions, the little branch managed to thrive. For four years after the missionaries were transferred out of Sparks in 1911, things looked bleak.; then faithful members who persevered were blessed. Sunday School was reorganized in 1916 followed by the Relief Society and finally the branch was well enough established to consider construction of their own chapel building.

   California mission clerks and Sparks branch clerks kept a steady flow of information written in short form, not story form. From their references, we have enough information to investigate information from other sources. Personal interviews, histories, other church archives, history books, museums, and newspapers have given a story line to the noted subjects in the records.   

   Names of people were mentioned several times during the years of 1910-1911. We know that Emma and John Johnson moved in. Emma typified a church stalwart who regularly bore her testimony in gratitude for the organization of the branch. And, like a few other sisters, her husband was never mentioned after their records were received in the branch.

   In fact, Sisters Josephine Payne, Adelia Hafer, Lydia Anderson and Gladys Huyck were the backbone of the branch. They held positions, gave prayers and planned parties.  It appears their husbands worked long hours to provide for the family, yet were unable to attend church, having to work seven days a week. These valiant sisters did not stay home because their husbands were working. They did not let that hamper them from making the effort to attend and worship in the camaraderie of their fellow saints and sisters.

   Sparks had grown from nothing but a swamp to a thriving community overnight, however, there were very few public buildings for the membership to rent for Sunday Meetings. The records indicate the saints originally met for a “cottage meeting” in the home of Sabina Baxter. Then as time went on, meetings were held alternately between Sister Baxter’s home, the Robison [or sometimes written as Robinson] Hall and Raine Hall in downtown Sparks.

   It was common practice to work for a few years on the railroad with the intent to permanently move back to enjoy the fellowship of family and friends in Utah. Transiency has always been a predominant thread in Reno and Sparks; in fact, statistics show that only 30% of the local population who are born here remain for the duration of their lives.  Most of the founding saints defy the statistics with descendants that continue to work and live in the area as fourth and fifth generation natives.

The following, introduction posts are life sketches from a cumulative effort to invite this generation to become familiar with people who were never given due recognition for their part in promoting the growth of Zion.

Never Before Known Native American Stories by Bernice Vanderhoof McCarthy

                                Bernice Vanderhoof McCarthy and the Paiute Indians

Bernice, Mother Artie, Baby Phebe, Father Giles, Lucille, Lee

   Another source of historical value came from a very early railroad family who pioneered the church and raised their family in Sparks.The Vanderhoof family contributed a great deal to the early church and railroad community. Their daughter, Bernice Vanderhoof McCarthy, found great pleasure writing essays of her early memories concerning her family, friends and the church of her youth. 

   Her writings include people and places in early Sparks that led to its distinct nature including the nearby Paiute Indians. The following is written by Bernice.

The Thanksgiving Buck

   “When I was just a wee girl, I remember my dear little mama baking a Thanksgiving turkey that did not please her. She said that it just did not smell right, and in no way was she going to serve it for her family’s dinner.

   We lived at 531 8^th Street (now Pyramid Way) and the Paiute Indian Village was less than two blocks north and a few blocks east of us. It was just below the County Road (now Prater Way) and situated on the bank of a small ditch at about 5^th Street. Their cabins were on the north side of the ditch.

   My folks were kind and friendly to the Indians and very fond of some of the special ones. Mama knew that after its long hours of baking, there was really nothing wrong with that turkey—its odor just “turned her off.” So she called daddy in and asked him to take it down to the Indian Village.

I adored my father [Giles Vanderhoof] and literally walked in his shadow, so I went trotting along beside him to the Indian Village. It was late afternoon and almost dusk at that time of year.

   That turkey smelled good enough to me—and I remember how proud I was that we were giving our Indians such a wonderful gift! As we arrived with it, we saw a big buck Indian standing outside his cabin. Daddy walked over to him and proffered his gift saying, “My good wife sends this present over to our Indian friends.”

   I was disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm – he just accepted it with a grunt. In later years, I learned that is always their way—so stoic. I empathize with our Indians and realize why they are unable-and unwilling to show gratitude for our favors. Once, this was all theirs. I remember that I felt quite a letdown, but all the way back home, I happily skipped along at Daddy’s side, in the dusk, holding ever so tightly to his big, strong, hand.

Mattie, the Indian Squaw

   Once when my mother was expecting my younger brother, Giles, she had a very fat, nice squaw, Mattie, come regularly to assist her with the household chores. She was training Mattie so she would be familiar with all duties when Mama’s “time of indisposition arrived.”

   Giles was born the evening of February 11, 1916 at 9:15pm. The next morning Mattie made no appearance. Mama was very upset. Mattie had always been such a good and dependable person and mama was quite fond of her. How could she let her down at this imperative time.

   She sent Daddy over to the Indian Village on the bank of the little irrigation ditch, south of County Road, and a few blocks east of our house to find out why Mattie had failed her.

   As usual, I went along too, trotting along at Daddy’s heels. As we approached their cabin, we saw Mattie’s big “buck” of a husband loitering out in front of it. At the sound of Daddy’s voice, as he asked for Mattie, we heard footsteps running across the floor inside the cabin and plainly the locking of the door.

   At Daddy’s inquiry, as to why Mattie hadn’t come to work today, when of all days she was needed most, with the arrival of the expected baby, the big “buck” slowly and solemnly said, “Oh, Mattie catchum papoose last night!” We could hardly believe our ears and hurried home to tell mama. Mama was just flabbergasted and exclaimed, “Oh, poor Mattie, she was as much in need of help as I was. We were both expecting at the very same time, and there I thought she was just a fat squaw!”

Old Ida

   Mama was very kind to the Indians, and some of them used to come to our house for handouts and never once were they ever turned away. Our most frequent visitor was “Old Ida.” She was big and fat, axe handle wide across the seat, and we loved her dearly.

   We children used to giggle to ourselves as she seated herself in our back yard. She really did get up and down just like a big, fat cow, her shoulders first, then balancing her big bulk, the rest of her followed. She came silently and unannounced. Often, we’d look out and there would be “Old Ida” just sitting out there on the ground. Always, we each went over to greet and welcome her.

   Once seated, she would take out her basket weaving materials and begin her artistry as she waited. I can see her now, as she drew the willow through her mouth to give it enough moisture to make it pliable.

   If the weather was cold or bad, she came regardless. She was always brought in our home and seated in front of the kitchen range. The range was an old Star Estate, with a knife-sharpener on the front, a water reservoir on its right-hand side, from whence came hot water for our baths etc. That was before there were yet any other water-heating conveniences such as we enjoy today. Across its top front were two warming ovens (as they were called), with closing doors. Cut into the bottom, below the baking oven and the soot door was an open warming oven above the floor. There new-born chicks were placed to keep them warm.

   We would put the oven door down for Ida and she would sit there and get warm and dry out from the ice and snow. She always had a voluminous skirt that had scads of pockets. I can see mama yet, tying all sorts of goodies and necessaries into little packages that Ida could tuck into those various pockets. It was amazing how fast they disappeared.

   As she seated herself before the stove, I can hear now, the doleful little sing-song, she used to say to mama, “No gottee no soogar, no gottee no coppee, no gottee, no gottee.” And mama would be bustling around, sharing whatever she could with “that poor old soul.”

   Ida would always say, “Oh, you nicee goodee lady, someday I makee you nicee basket.” And mama would just smile her sweet, kind, smile, knowing there never would be a basket forthcoming, but appreciating the thought anyway.

   One day, lo and behold, the basket DID come, in Ida’s pocket, a small one about 6 inches across and a couple of inches deep. How it warmed mama’s heart when Old Ida brought it out from one of those mysterious pockets, saying, “See, I makee you nicee basket.” But then how angry mama became, only time I ever saw mama cross with Ol Ida, when Ida completed the sentence with, “now you givee me twenty cents.”

   Mama was insulted, not for the amount of money, but to think that she would put a price on this long-promised gift. Mama replied, “No, I will not give you twenty cents, shame on you Ida, after all the years I have been good to you, and so shared with you!

   Old Ida just looked sullen and thoughtful for quite awhile, then Looked up and said, “You givee me ten cents!” Indignantly, Mama answered, “I wouldn’t give you one cent!” You keep your basket!” which is just what she did!

Old Ida's Beans

   My father’s whole life was wrapped up in three things, and he willingly and uncomplainingly, traded many of life’s luxuries for them. First, his beloved wife and children; second, his precious Rhode Island Red chickens; and his big garden. Over all, of course, hovered the courage of his religious convictions, with all the time and effort he devoted to that.

   His garden had the first green onions, radishes, lettuce, etc. And he gladly shared it with all. When Old Ida paid her visits, she was always welcome to anything in season therein. I can see Mama giving her some of this and that, and Ida hunting a place to stow it, she left with arms laden, too.

One time Mama gave her some freshly picked yellow wax beans. The next time she came, Mama said, “Ida, I’ll give you some more wax beans that I have just picked, did you like them?” Ida gave a grunt of disgust, “Oh, No, --too itty bitty!” Mama immediately got the picture and could visualize that poor old woman trying to get the wee little inner beans out of those yellow pods.

   “Oh, Ida, she cried, “You aren’t supposed to try to shell the beans out of the pods. You break them up in inch long pieces, cook the whole thing, and eat it that way. Now I’ll give you some more and you try them like this, you’ll like them!”

   But with those beans, Ida had had it. No way was she going to have any part of them again. No amount of mama’s persuading could tempt her to even look at a wax bean again.

   Both Old Ida and Mattie, along with many other squaws, had the blue, indelible marking forever imprinted in a pretty blue color, down to their chins. We wondered if they were “grief markings” of some sad experience in their lives. We never asked them, such personal things were never even considered for discussion. We deeply respected those brown brothers and the right to have their own private rituals. We had heard that those marking s were inflicted on themselves in time of great sorrow.

Pyramid Lake Indians

   The Indians at Pyramid Lake, a desert lake north east of Reno, Nevada, always knew they had a market with my father for their huge Pyramid Lake Salmon. Daddy was a good friend to them and they thought highly of him. They would drive up in their small wagon, chat with him a bit, and then select their largest and finest Salmon Trout from beneath a heavy gray tarp. This they sold to daddy for the massive sum of “two bits!” Mama baked them in her oven with the aroma filling the air.

   Those poor Indians, as badly in need as they were for a little ready cash, and the punitive bit they derived from the sale of those few fish were resented and begrudged. So a law was soon passed prohibiting the Indians from selling their hard-caught catch. My father, realizing their dire straits and knowing how much that little twenty five cents meant to them, made them welcome. After working for their catch, they had to make the long, slow journey to find a customer in their little old horse-drawn wagon, over 35 miles of powdery, fine-dusty, corduroy jarring road, was no picnic for sure!

   A most law-abiding man, Daddy refused to recognize that law, with its injustice, and the Indians knew that he understood. So they continued to drive up in front of our house and lift a beautiful, huge Salmon Trout from beneath its wet tarp. Those original, natural Pyramid fish were really something!