Saturday, February 28, 2009

Morgan 4: John Morgan from the Journal of Discourses

This is much longer than a normal post. Read it at your leisure!


DISCOURSE BY ELDER JOHN MORGAN, DELIVERED IN THE TABERNACLE, SALT LAKE CITY, SUNDAY AFTERNOON, MAY 23RD, 1880. (Reported by John Irvine.)

(Journal of Discourses, Volume 21, pages 179-188.)

I am pleased to have once more the privilege of meeting with the Latter-day Saints, and I trust that while I shall endeavor to address you I shall have an interest in your faith and prayers, that what I may say may, be in accordance with the mind and will of our Father in heaven and for our mutual good and benefit.

To an elder returning home from missionary labors the privilege of meeting with the assemblies of the Saints in their Sabbath day meetings is one that is very highly prized. We feel to rejoice in the privilege of returning to these peaceful valleys of the mountains, and of listening to the voice of the servants of God teaching the principles of the kingdom of God, and explaining the mind and will of our common Father and God in the heavens. I have often thought and meditated in regard to this privilege when away from home traveling in the midst of strangers, that when here we scarcely prize and realize the value of it. And doubtless this is true in regard to very many of the great and glorious principles of the Gospel. We must see the opposite, come in contact with the opposite; we have to taste the bitter before we can appreciate the sweet; we have to see and experience the condition in which the world is to-day to appreciate the situation the Latter-day Saints are in.

During the past year, since last I had the privilege of meeting with you here, I have been engaged in preaching the principles of the Gospel in the United States, more particularly in the Southern States. Our labors there have, to a greater or less extent, been crowned with success. The Lord has opened up our way. We have been enabled to reach many of the honest in heart, and the principles of the Gospel have been spread by the preaching of the elders, and by the distribution of books and pamphlets, until many thousands of people in that section of the country to-day are becoming acquainted with the principles of the Gospel, who, twelve months ago, although possibly aware that there were such a people as the Latter-day Saints in the valleys of the mountains, were ignorant in regard to the doctrines that they professed to believe in. I find that within the past twelve months quite a change has taken place in the sentiments and minds of the people in the Southern States relative to the principles that we promulgate. I form my judgment in regard to this from their actions, and it is said they speak louder than words. Something like twelve months ago a spirit of persecution and mobocracy was prevalent throughout a great portion of the South, brought about, to a great extent, by inflammatory articles in the newspapers, misrepresenting us and our objects, and the denunciations hurled at us from the pulpit and from almost all directions, which resulted in the mobbing of a number of the elders and the driving from their homes of quite a number of families who had embraced the Gospel in their native land. In one particular instance an entire branch of the Church was driven from their homes, lost their property and their means and were forced to rely upon the generosity of the Latter-day Saints already gathered to the valleys of the mountains here to enable them to emigrate to where they could live in peace and safety. This character of opposition was very violent, very unpleasant to meet with, very unpleasant to have to deal with, but by the blessing of God and the perseverance of the elders, the obstacles were overcome, our work was pushed forward, and very many right-thinking, honorable men and women, while not conceding with us in a religious sense, came out and refuse[d] to endorse the action of men who were using violence, came out in the press, in private conversation, in public speech, and stated that while the Latter-day Saints might be wrong, the course that was being taken was undoubtedly wrong, that whatever the nature and character of their doctrines might be, mob-violence, persecution, and unauthorized, illegal prosecution was not a proper means of over coming the difficulty. Even the editors of many of the Southern papers conceded that the course that was being pursued was most unwise, and would have a tendency to bring dozens of converts to the "Mormon" doctrines where there had been one before, which proved true, as our labors have continually increased and grown, our numbers have been added to, and the spirit of emigration to gather out to where they could be protected in their religious belief has grown stronger day by day, until we scarcely need to preach in the Southern States the principle of emigration, so anxious are the people to escape from their surroundings.

The elders who have been engaged in the Southern States Mission have, almost without exception, proven themselves worthy of the trust that was reposed in them. They have endeavored to perform the duties devolving upon them as men and as the servants of God, not counting privation, slander, exposure, contumely as anything in comparison to the great work in which they were engaged.

The Southern people are naturally a kind-hearted, hospitable, noble class of people, with the finer instincts of nature more fully developed than possibly among some other classes of people. They recognize the labors of our elders, and while they may not coincide with our views, yet they give us credit for the determination with which we press forward, and the earnestness and zeal displayed by our young elders in preaching the principles of the Gospel. Especially was this note-worthy in connection with the very many young elders who had never been upon missions before, young men who had been called from the various mutual improvement associations, unlearned in regard to the condition of the world, unacquainted with its customs, manners and habits—especially with this class was a deep impression made upon the minds of the people. That feeling of kindness, which is characteristic of the people there, seemed to feel after those boys, beardless boys as they were, as they stood up in their places, where they could obtain a church or a school house, to preach, and where they could not obtain a place, in the open air, by the road side, or wherever they found a man ready to stop and listen to them in proclaiming the things they had been sent to declare. It made a deep impression on the minds of the people, and, in a number of instances, while the violent feelings of men were raised against them, there were those who said, "We have boys of our own, and if our boys were in the place of these, separated from their homes and their kindred by thousands of miles, and there were those seeking to do them violence, we would feel to bless the hand that protected them." And, as a general thing, there came a division, and the two contending parties were left to get through the struggle as best they could.

The Southern States Mission at the present time is divided into conferences, with a president over each conference, and traveling elders at appointed places laboring in the districts. Yet, with all that we can do, there are localities in the Southern States to-day, that have been asking for elders for some considerable length of time, which we have not yet been able to supply, owing to a deficiency in our numbers. I discover, in coming in contact with the people of the United States, that, notwithstanding the nation numbers forty millions of people,—a vast innumerable multitude almost, compared to the Latter-day Saints who dwell in these distant valleys of the mountains,—yet, if a company of eight, ten, twelve or fifteen elders should happen to pass through any of the large cities, en route to their fields of labor, they are visited by reporters, they are interviewed, and the interview is published far and near, causing considerable excitement in regard to this small company of elders going to their fields of labor; in fact two elders, going into a locality where the people are unacquainted with the teachings of the Latter-day Saints, and announcing themselves as Mormon elders, will create a really more genuine sensation than almost any other incident that could happen, and it is, doubtless, well that some of us, who are possibly a little more zealous than wise, should be restrained in regard to our anxiety to push the work forward. There is, however, an abundance of room for elders to labor throughout the entire Southern States. We scarcely ever preached in a place where we could not obtain a hearing. We scarcely ever visited a neighborhood—I do not recollect of any now—in the Southern States where I desired a hearing, but what I could both obtain a place to preach in and a good sized audience to hear what I had to say.

Many of the leading men of the Southern States, having visited Salt Lake City and been treated kindly by our people—having observed the thrift, enterprise and peacefulness of our homes, extended to us many kindnesses and many courtesies, notwithstanding that, with the mass of the people, it was quite unpopular to do so. The Governor of one of the leading States of the South, offered the use of the Senate Chamber—the representative hall of his State—to preach in, if I was prepared to use it, extending any courtesy I desired. Their leading papers freely noticed our meetings and published thousands of handbills to be distributed among the people, refusing any compensation whatever. Many of these incidents that come to my mind in regard to the courtesy and kindness of the people that we have been preaching the Gospel to, warms our hearts as elders of Israel, and we feel to do them good, to bless them, and benefit them all that we can.

During the past year, a little over 400 Saints have been gathered from the Southern States Mission. The principal part of these have emigrated to the neighboring State of Colorado, in San Luis Valley, 250 miles south and a little to the west of Denver, where the Saints have found a good valley, most excellent land and timber, water, grass, and all that is necessary to enable them to build up a settlement and locate themselves. I had the privilege of visiting them in their homes a number of times, and while they have had the privations that are incidental to the formation of a new settlement everywhere, yet they have been blessed and prospered. The people of the State of Colorado have, as a rule, treated them kindly, have welcomed them to their borders, have endeavored to benefit them, and assisted them in forming their settlements all they could. The railroad, that has been in process of construction for the past two years, runs down the centre of the valley, within three to five miles of our line of settlement, so that we have easy railroad communication. Our rates for emigration are exceedingly low. The railroad companies have extended to us many courtesies and kindnesses, and have sought to do what they could —apparently being moved upon by the right Spirit—to enable us to gather those who were unable to gather themselves, and to assist those who were but little able to gather. In the location of the settlement in the State of Colorado, there are now, I believe, 500 Latter-day Saints from the Southern States, which will possibly be augmented by 300 more this season, if deemed prudent to do so. In the first town that was located, all the lots have been taken up. Another location of similar dimensions is being occupied, while still another will be occupied some few miles distant from the first two in the course of the next two or three months.

The health of the Saints has not been as good as could have been desired, principally owing to the fact that in emigrating from the Southern States—a malarious district to those great, dry altitudes—the changes thus brought to bear upon them were calculated to produce sickness to a greater or less extent. The scourge of measles passed through the settlement in the month of April; some 160 cases. Our neighbors, at a railroad town near by, where there were about an equal number of inhabitants that we had, with all the appliances of physicians and drug stores, lost quite a large percentage of their cases of sickness. In the town of Alamosa, some twenty miles distant from our settlement, where there were almost an equal number of cases, there was quite a large percentage of deaths. In about 165 to 170 cases that occurred in our settlement, I think there were but three or four deaths from measles. When I was talking to the Mayor of Alamosa, he called my attention to the disparity of deaths in that town in comparison with those that had occurred in our settlement, and asked me if I thought the location of the town of Alamosa unhealthy. I replied I thought not, that it was equally healthy with our settlement. He asked me to what I attributed the number of deaths. I replied that I believed they were attributable to the number of drug stores and physicians they had in it, that that was the cause, as I earnestly believed, to a greater or less extent, of the disparity of the number of deaths. With some 500 inhabitants in our settlement with quite a number of cases, some of them very serious, there has never been a physician called to prescribe one single prescription to any of these people, and I have an idea that if we were to look at them to-day we would find them equally healthy with those of the adjacent town where there are several physicians with two drug stores to draw their supplies from.

The people in the settlements are satisfied with their location. I heard but very little complaint, and what complaints I did hear were, I thought, almost entirely due to the inconvenience incident to emigration, to breaking up their homes, to disposing of their property, to riding distances upon railroads, landing at their destination wearied, to not being so carefully housed and protected for a limited length of time after their arrival, and to their being unacquainted with the country. I believe, however, that out of the 500 souls emigrated there have been but four turned back from the work and returned to their former homes. I heard no expression of a desire to return on the part of any one when I was there. Wishing to test this as I was returning back to the States, I publicly made the offer that if there were any persons who desired to return back to their old homes, to lay down the principles of the Gospel and forego the gathering, I would see and accompany them back, and if there were any unable to go back with their own means, a fund would be raised for the purpose if desired. I received no applications, hence I was led to believe that the people as a rule were satisfied with their situation and surroundings.

Adjacent to our settlement there is a large number of Mexicans who live in plazzas, as they term them, which are capable of accomodating from ten to fifty families in a plazza. These people have had rather an unpleasant and chequered history in the Territory of New Mexico and the State of Colorado. They have been looked upon to a certain extent as legal and lawful prey by the Christians surrounding, who have, to a greater or less degree, taken advantage of their innocence and of their ignorance in regard to the rules of business. To illustrate this, one man, a merchant with whom we deal, a man that I have always looked upon as in every sense trustworthy, made this statement to me. In speaking of the Mexican people, said he: "We cannot trade with them as we do with other people. They have been deceived and cheated until they come here and ask how many pounds of sugar we give for a dollar. We would not dare to tell them the exact number of pounds. If it is six, we have to tell them ten." "Well," I said "do you weigh out the ten pounds?" "Not much; we weigh them six or five and a half pounds as the case might be." Such is the character of the dealings the Mexican people have had to contend with until to-day they have no confidence whatever in the white people by whom they are surrounded, and it is something almost unknown in their history, it is something strange for them to be placed in a position whereby they would be dealt with honorably and uprightly by white people. Said one of their leading citizens to me Mr. Valdez, who was formerly a Judge in Old Mexico, a leading citizen in the State of Colorado, a Representative in the Legislature, and a man of considerable ability—said he to me, "The white people we have come in contact with heretofore, have endeavored to take every advantage of us, and when your people came here we expected they would treat us the same way. Last season we could have furnished you land to plow, teams and seed; but we were afraid that you would repeat the history of some other portions of our possessions, where we have furnished seed, land, teams and plows, and rented these things upon shares to people who came into our midst, and when the fall season came they not only claimed the land and crops, but our teams and plows, and we have failed to obtain any redress whatever; consequently we were afraid of your people." But after some short acquaintance with us, after coming in contact with us a limited length of time, they learned to think better of us, and by their votes elected one of our brethren magistrate over a considerable portion of the county of Conejas, in which they lived. This brother told me he had been magistrate for eight months, had gained the confidence of the people, until to-day people outside of the precinct where he lives will bring their cases to him to arbitrate and adjudicate upon, and the people almost universally are willing to submit to his decisions. There is a kindly feeling between them and the Latter-day Saints. They are naturally a kind hearted people. I noticed when our people were living in their plazzas, as some of them did for a season, that when any of them took sick, the Mexicans were on hand to nurse them and to do what they could for their comfort. The Saints rejoice at the privilege of gathering where they can live in peace and quietness, and receive the instructions of the elders, and have their children taught. I believe about the first thing they did in the first town they started was to build a comfortable schoolhouse, and during the past winter they have had a school in session the entire winter, expecting that as soon as circumstances would permit a summer school would be commenced. A Sabbath School is in session regularly each Sabbath, and some six home missionaries visit the surrounding country where the Latter-day Saints are located, and instruct the Mexicans who desire to hear the principles of the Gospel.

In laboring in the States, we can see that there is a rapid change taking place. It may not be observable by the masses of the people. However, this change can be seen on the right hand and on the left. We hear men remark in regard to the change that is occurring politically, religiously and socially. We cannot blind our eyes to the fact that affairs in the United States are traveling at a rapid rate. We sometimes hear an elder, on returning home from his mission, ask one of the brethren, "How is everything moving?" His reply is, "very slowly." He does not see with the eyes of the elder who is abroad preaching the Gospel. To my mind, the seeds of dissolution have been sown in the midst of the people, and they are springing up to an abundant growth. Men are fulfilling the Scriptures—"their hearts are failing them for fear of the things that are coming upon them." The people of the United States are in doubt in regard to what is in store for our government. We hear quite loud expressions every hour of the day by men of all classes—governors, senators, congressmen and clergymen. I think one of the most eloquent sermons —eloquent for the sound of its words, not particularly for the principle it contained, but more particularly for its sound of words—I ever heard, was one in which the minister portrayed the condition of the United States, the fearful condition in which the government was today, the condition in which political affairs were, and strange as it may seem, after telling the people that there was not a political party in the United States that would receive Jesus of Nazareth. After telling the people of St. Louis (the city in which this sermon was preached) that if Jesus were to come to one of their wards and run for Alderman, they would outvote him by a large majority—after telling them all these things, he then commenced upon the other hand to portray the glorious spread of Christianity! It sounded strange to my ears, for one was a direct contradiction of the other; if one was true the other was false. Certainly Christianity could not grow and increase and spread and be engrafted into the minds of the people, and at the same time he who stood at the head of Christianity be rejected from the head to the foot of the whole body.

The situation to my mind as I have observed it—and I have tried to do so calmly and deliberately and without prejudice—is anything but agreeable. Men have ceased to try to hide this; and the present political contest that is waged so hotly even for the nomination of the man who shall fill the presidential chair is stirring up the people as I have never seen an election stir them up before. It seems as though they are not content with dividing into parties but these parties are divided into fragments, the one contending against the other. A few years ago it was the Democratic party on the one side and the Republican party on the other. To-day it has changed and materially altered in the Republican party. It is the anti-third term men, the Blaine men, Sherman men etc., struggling one against the other in their own party until it seems as if the shadow is cast, of the time when every man's hand shall be raised against his neighbor. Certainly these are indications of it,—and we see the fulfilment of prophecy in these things. It is a most unpleasant report for a person to make of the situation of their country. We are not aliens to our kind. We love and revere and respect the constitution of our common country. We have a love for the old flag that floats over it, and it is with feelings of mortification, chagrin, and pain that we have to report back to the Saints here in the valleys of the mountains the fearful condition in which matters are to-day. One instance comes to my mind in connection with a matter in which the Latter-day Saints are interested. During the trial of the men—or one of them at least—who assassinated Elder Joseph Standing, I was astonished and surprised to listen to the testimony of the witnesses. The court would commence its session at eight o'clock and run till twelve and then adjourn for an hour and run till candle light, and when night came we would hear the bells ringing across the street calling the people to a revival meeting. I noticed that those men who had been upon the witness stand would pass over to the meeting, and for two weeks the revival was kept up calling men and women to Jesus after dark, and in the day time came into that court and testified to things they knew were utterly false, and that they knew the people in the court room were satisfied were false. The thing was a talk and a laughing stock on the streets of Dalton. It seemed strange to me, and after I had had several days experience I asked the attorney General, a man that I looked upon as an honorable man, a man who sought to do his duty in that trial to the best of his ability—I asked "how many men are there that came upon this stand that you can rely upon to testify to the truth?" His reply was, "If I get one in ten I am doing very well." I thought that a strange comment indeed upon this boasted land of freedom, of free schools, churches, libraries, lecture associations and yet hold ourselves up before the world as a representative government for all other governments to copy after, for all civilization to follow, and for all Christians to model themselves from. It looks strange to me, and I scarcely could have believed it had not mine own ears heard and mine own eyes beheld it.

The sentiment and feeling of the better class of people in the South, and I may say the people of the United States are in favor of letting the Latter-day Saints alone, of letting them work out their own problem, and but for the religious influence that is brought to bear there would be but little said in relation to the work the Latter-day Saints are doing. But this religious influence has not changed in the least. The same influence that fought and contended against the Latter day Saints in the State of Missouri, and that drove them to the valleys of the mountains; the same influence that cried out nearly 2000 years ago "crucify him, crucify him," is still abroad in the land, and I think the worst treatment I have ever received at the hands of any class of men has been from men who can pray the longest prayers, preach the loudest sermons, and wear the longest face, and who profess to be going back to Abraham's bosom. This class of men have always contended against the elders. They have sought to bring persecution upon them, and to villify them upon every hand, and if we have difficulties they are to a greater or less extent caused by those who profess to believe in this Bible, and who preach "glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill towards men." But this perchance, is but history repeating itself. Notwithstanding the difficulties and obstacles the elders have had to contend with in this and other directions they have been blessed and prospered. They rejoice in the privilege of going forth to proclaim the principles of the Gospel, to bring Israel to a knowledge of the truth, and to gather the honest in heart home, that Zion may be built up and the kingdom of God established on the earth. The elders rejoice in this privilege. Our young elders who go abroad with fear and trembling in regard to their own ability are willing to pass through all kinds of difficulties, are willing to endure anything and everything that they may be instruments in the hands of God in proclaiming the principles of the Gospel. I heard but very few complaints from the elders. It is true that sometimes they are not situated as pleasantly as they would desire to be, but I heard very few complaints. They express very great surprise at the situation of affairs abroad. They say, "why, we did not dream that matters were as bad as they are. We did not dream that the world was so corrupt as it is both politically, religiously, and socially." They seemed surprised, when walking through the streets of the religious St. Louis.—whose editors, you know, write long homilies in the shape of editorials in regard to the terrible situation of affairs in Utah,—to see, on a Sunday, just close by where these articles are published, saloons open, men and women drinking, and business going on just as though it were any other day in the week, "Why," say these young elders, "in reading these articles back in Utah we were led to believe that these places here were really religious. But we find that such is not the case. We find they are allowing their charity to play leap-frog over their own wrongdoings, and in place of looking to the affairs of Utah they had better attend to their own." These things look strange to the young elders when they first come in contact with the world. In speaking with one of of the officers of the State of Colorado, said he to me, "we trust that you people will assimilate with our people, that they will adopt our habits and customs and become one with us." I told him we did not wish to make any rash promises about that, for, said. I, "we would not wish to have drinking saloons on the corner of each block." We would not like to have all kind of wrong-doings in our midst, and certainly here in this city of Denver, we would not wish to copy after the morals of this or your adjoining city of Leadville.

Some people seem to have an idea that the Latter-day Saints gathered here in the valleys of the mountains are samples of all that is wrong, all that is iniquitous, and I have sometimes been amazed at the situation we have been placed in. In one neighbourhood where we stopped over night, and had some talk with the folks in regard to the social conditions with which they were surrounded, one sanctimonious person, the next day, refused us the privilege of meeting in a log cabin schoolhouse, for fear we should corrupt the morals of the people! In another instance, a large number of people had gathered together in a meeting house to hear one of the elders preach. When he got through preaching he asked a gentleman who had been induced to come to the stand to tell the people what he thought of the doctrine that had been advanced. He very reluctantly did so in about these words: "I have listened with great attention to my young friend. I believe he is honest. I believe he has tried to tell the truth, and in fact he has told you the truth. He has read from the Scriptures; "but at this stage he drew up (evidently realizing that he had gone too far to please his friends) and concluded by saying: "but my dear, dying friends, I do not believe one word of it." Notwithstanding that he had just told the people that the young man had told them the truth, and that he had preached according to the Bible. It sounded strange, even to his own people. Yet there is a class of people who, when we come down to the real facts of the case, will not, do not believe in the Bible, however much they pretend to do so. They believe certain parts of it, and disbelieve other parts. This spirit of unbelief is growing in the minds of the people, until in the United States to-day there are thousands of people who openly repudiate their belief in the Bible. Ingersoll, and various men of that stamp who are lecturing throughout the United States, take for texts the mistakes found in the books of Moses, and otherwise ridicule the word of Scripture. By this means they are undermining the faith and belief of the people in the Bible, and are creating infidels by thousands. We meet them on the railroads, we hear them from the lecture stand, we find them among all classes of people, lawyers, doctors, etc., and as I told one of them, a leading citizen of St. Louis, with whom I traveled a couple of days, I can understood [understand] opposition to preaching and praying from those who do not believe in this book, but it savors of hypocrisy coming from those who profess to believe in the teachings of Jesus and his apostles.

Well, these are some of the reflections that pass through our minds as elders in preaching the Gospel. We pray that the blessing of Israel's God may rest upon his work, and upon the elders who are abroad preaching the Gospel, that they also may be permitted to return in peace, in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Morgan 4: John Morgan—Early Life and Civil War

Very little is known about the Morgan family’s migration to America or their history prior to the 19th century, but records trace back at least to 17th century Virginia.

John Hamilton Morgan’s parents, Garrard Morgan III and Eliza Ann Hamilton Morgan, were born in or around Nicholas County, Kentucky.

Garrard and Eliza followed a similar path across the wilderness as the Thomas Lincoln family, from Kentucky to Indiana to Coles County, Illinois. The first of their seven children, William Woodson Morgan, was born in Indiana on July 27, 1840.

Eliza gave birth to their second son, John Hamilton Morgan, on August 8, 1842, in Greensburg, Decatur, Indiana.

Subsequent children Sarah, Leonidas, James, Luella, and Garrard IV were also born in Indiana before the family settled outside Mattoon, Coles County, Illinois.

On September 6, 1862, Colonel James Monroe organized the 123rd Illinois Volunteer Regiment at Camp Terry, Mattoon, Coles County, Illinois.
  • From Coles County: Companies A, C, D, H, I, and K.
  • From Cumberland County: Company B.
  • From Clark County, Company E.
  • From Clark and Crawford Counties: Company F and G.
John Morgan belonged to company I. He was twenty years old.

The regiment shipped out on freight cars on September 19, 1862, for action under Major General William “Bull” Nelson. Their immediate task was to fortify Louisville, Kentucky, against Confederate General Braxton Bragg.

On October 1, the regiment left Louisville under the command of Union General Don Carlos Buell in pursuit of Bragg. The regiment with its untrained recruits suffered heavily in the Battle of Perryville on October 8, 1862.

The regiment spent the next three months protecting the railroad bridge in Munfordville, Kentucky.

The Battle of Chickamauga

The Battle of Stones River from December 31, 1862 to January 2, 1863, was the regiment’s second introduction to the horrors of warfare.

After a period of inactivity, the regiment saw action at the Battle of Vaught’s Hill (March 20, 1863).

The Battle of Reseca

Their next action was at the Battle of Hoover’s Gap (June 24-26, 1863), followed by the Battle of Chickamauga (September 19-20, 1863), Farmington (October 7, 1863), Resaca (May 13-15, 1864), New Hope Church (May 25-26, 1864), Dallas (May 24-June 4, 1864), Marietta (June 9-July 3, 1864), Kennesaw Mountain (June 27, 1864), and Selma (April 2, 1865).

Several of the battles were part of the Atlanta Campaign. The regiment also participated in Garrard’s Raid and Wilson’s Raid.

The Battle of Kennesaw Mountain

After the Battle of Selma, Captain Owen Wiley wrote that,
Our loss was one officer killed; six wounded; seven men killed and forty-two wounded. All did their duty, and so deserve the highest praise. Color Serg’t. John Morgan, Company I is deserving the highest credit for his gallantry in action in being the first to plant a flag upon the Rebel works, and for being in the supreme advance until all the Rebel Forts were captured, planting our colors upon each of them successively.
In John Morgan's funeral address given by B.H. Roberts, Roberts said that,

When the Union forces were attacking the rebel breastworks at Selma, Alabama, three men who carried that old flag during the assault were shot down; as it fell from the hand of the third man John Morgan seized it, leaped over the breastworks and planted it triumphantly inside the enemies’ lines where the regiment maintained it....

He was wounded during the war, but in what battle I do not remember; twice he was captured; once exchanged and once he made his escape...
After the war, John Morgan attended Eastman’s Commercial College in Poughkeepsie, New York, and graduated in the spring of 1866. He returned to Murfreesboro, Tennessee, to join an army acquaintance in the accounting business, but his career as a carpet bagger ended quickly as he and his friend both took a job driving a large herd of cattle from Kansas City to Salt Lake City.

John Morgan and his friend arrived in Salt Lake City on December 23, 1866. The friend left shortly thereafter for California, but John liked Salt Lake City so much that he decided to stay.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Morgan 4: John Morgan Funeral Address, Part 3 of 3

Travel throughout the south, where he labored, and though men may not believe in the religion he advocated, yet they honored him, and their respect for him taught them respect also for the people he represented. That respect was so great and his record was so well known that he had access to men standing in positions that Elders without such a record behind them did not possess, and whatever of influence his record as a soldier brought to him and whatever wisdom God granted to him, I know from my continuous association with him for more than fourteen years, he brought to the support of the work of God with which he was identified.

The country loses one of its bravest defenders in the death of John Morgan; the state a good citizen; the Church of Jesus Christ one of its ablest leaders whose mission has been to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. The First Council of Seventies in his demise loses one of its wisest counselors; one whose judgment we all felt to respect. But above all the family of this man loses a kind husband, an indulgent father and a kind and steadfast friend whose whole heart was centered in bringing to pass their welfare and establishing them in honor in the midst of the people.

They will feel his loss more than any of us will feel it; and with them I sympathize and condole on this occasion.

So far as Elder John Morgan is concerned, his battles are over. Of late the fight has been a hard one for him, but he has won it. And let it be said that the same courage which he displayed upon the field of battle was brought into all the difficulties with which he was surrounded, either as a missionary preaching the gospel or as a citizen of the community, struggling with adverse circumstances and against great odds. His victory, I say, so far as he is concerned is won; and though he was not free from faults, as none of us are free from them—I believe he was as self-conscious of his weaknesses of any man I ever knew. Yet those were but as motes in a glorious sunbeam and I fell that all is well with him. And while we stand here smitten with sorrow because of the loss we sustain in his departure—I can imagine what a royal welcome will be given to him, and what joy will be in the hearts of those who are preaching the gospel in the spirit world when it is heralded in that world that Elder John Morgan is among them!

I pray that the Lord will bless us that we may emulate his good example, cherish his memory and seek to be worth of future companionship with him. For my single self if, when the time comes that I pass away, my friends can say, as we can say of him, that he fought the good fight, that he kept the faith, I shall indeed be content with life’s mission. May God bless the family of Brother Morgan and may their hearts be comforted by the consolation which the Gospel brings; and may his children be trained up to revere the memory of their father is my prayer in the name of Jesus, Amen.

Part 1.
Part 2.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Morgan 4: John Morgan Funeral Address, Part 2 of 3

There is another line of experience in the history of Elder John Morgan that I wish to mention and of which little is known by the brethren and sisters at large; for he was ever modest in any reference to it. He was a soldier. In his youth the great civil war broke out. He joined the Union army and fought through all the years of the great rebellion, serving in honor in the armies of this country. Many a time I have walked with him over Missionary Ridge, where a great battle was fought; along Chickamauga Creek, where the Confederates won a great victory; around the cities of Chattanooga, Franklin, Columbia, Murfreesboro, Knoxville, and throughout the northern part of Alabama.

Upon the casket lying before us is the bullet-torn and battle-stained flag of the 123rd Illinois Regiment. When the Union forces were attacking the rebel breastworks at Selma, Alabama, three men who carried that old flag during the assault were shot down; as it fell from the hand of the third man John Morgan seized it, leaped over the breastworks and planted it triumphantly inside the enemies’ lines where the regiment maintained it. In recognition of his great bravery on that occasion the regiment made him a present of its flag, and how often have I heard him refer to “his flag” with pride. I am glad to see it form part of the decoration of his casket, for it is the emblem of a brave deed—and of itself, an inheritance to his sons. I speak of these things because during his lifetime he said so little of them in public; but being with him so much in the South and traveling over those battle fields, the war was often the subject of our conversation, and it was most interesting to have him point out the different places where engagements were fought and his own connection with them.

He was wounded during the war, but in what battle I do not remember; twice he was captured; once exchanged and once he made his escape; and may, with all propriety, be classed as one of the heroes of our country.

The only public references he ever made to these services for his country, so far as I know, occurred a few years ago, when mistaken members of the Grand Army of the Republic passing through our territory arrogated to themselves all the patriotism in the land, and something more than hinted at the supposed disloyalty of the “Mormon” people.

Indignant at the course these men pursued, in the presence of thousands, he vindicated the loyalty of the Latter-day Saints and referred to his own services in the Civil war, saying that he permitted no man to go further than he would go in making sacrifice for the flag of his country. With shame and humiliation many of these mistaken men confessed that they were in error. His record as a soldier on that occasion brought honor to the community in which he lived as did his record in all his labors in life.


To be continued...

Part 1.
Part 3.

Note: if you follow the link to the regiment, you will see that someone incorrectly linked this regiment to Rudger Clawson instead of John Morgan. Anyone know how to correct wikipedia entries? [Done.]

Monday, February 23, 2009

Morgan 4: John Morgan Funeral Address, Part 1 of 3

A Brave Soldier

A Zealous Missionary Has Passed Away

Remarks made by Elder B.H. Roberts, at the funeral of Elder John Morgan in the Assembly Hall, August 18, 1894

Reported specially for the Utah Church and Farm by Francis Bannerman.

It has been my good fortune to be very intimately acquainted with Elder John Morgan whose remains now lie before us, and which we are about to lay away in the tomb. I knew him when I was a boy, and for a time attended his school in this city. My acquaintance soon ripened into admiration of him. The first circumstance which drew me towards him was his relating how a mistaken father in this city, for some slight offense, had driven his son from home, and told him he was a disgrace to the family.

Elder Morgan himself became the friend of the young man and led him back to the paths of rectitude. In connection with this incident he remarked that for himself, his children should always find a friend in him, though all the world should turn against them. I admired that sentiment. I loved the principle that stood behind it.

Shortly after this I left his school and met him no more until I was appointed to labor under his presidency in the Southern States mission. The hundreds of elders who were associated with him in that mission for some fourteen years during which he was president of it, know how they became attached to him—how much we learned to rely upon his judgment and what great confidence we had in following his leadership. For some six years I was associated with him in that labor, and I can recall many instances of meeting with him, not only in public but in the quiet woods and by the silent streams of the south, where we met in counsel or in priesthood meeting. I know that the inspiration of Almighty God rested upon him in planning our labors, and in directing our efforts. The memory of this man is enshrined in the hearts of hundreds of the elders of Israel who labored with him during those years. As a missionary Elder Morgan laid the foundation of a great work and started currents of gratitude in his direction which will run towards him through time and through all eternity in constantly widening and deepening streams. When I think of the man who left his home at a great sacrifice to bring the Gospel to the foreign land where my parents lived and preached it to them in public and at the fireside, my heart goes out in gratitude to him. I regard him as my friend and the friend of my father’s house. I shall ever revere his name and shall teach my children after me to hold him in honorable remembrance. This is merely one stream started in that Elder’s direction, but doubtless while on his mission he started many such streams of gratitude. It was so with Elder Morgan. Thousands of families who have been blessed by his ministrations will rise up and call him blessed; and he has by his labors laid up an exceeding and eternal weight of glory for himself and his family. Those of us who have been permitted to associate with him in councils know how great the wisdom was that God inspired in him. We will know how much we have lost when no longer his voice is heard in our midst.


To be continued...

Part 2.
Part 3.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Random Pictures 2

Harold Morgan visiting Carthage Jail.


Harold Morgan visiting Independence, Missouri.


Jessie, Alta, Helen, Paul, and Maxine.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Random Pictures

I will start posting about John Hamilton Morgan on Monday, February 23. Until then, here are a few scans from the family collection.

I wish this one had some identifying information! Whose dog is that?!


A card sent to Jessie on the death of Harold Morgan by old friends from St. Johns.


Harold and Jessie at the Los Angeles Temple with one of their sons-in-law.
The matching photo with their daughter is here.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

For The Tanner Cousins Only...

Stick with the video through the introduction for some fun memories.



The song is actually from 1899, and you can read a bit about it here and hear an original recording.

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part C

On Family Life, Work, and Church Service

How long did you live in St. Johns?

I don’t know. I lived there I don’t know how many years and then we lived in Albuquerque. My Harold got a job on the Albuquerque Morning Journal and then we moved to Salt Lake. We come here to work on the old Herald and the night before we got here it went broke. So then he went over to visit the Desert News and they put him on the Deseret News and he worked there for years. He ... had a nose for news. He was very good.

After Helen was born then was Alta, Paul, Calvin, Maxine, JoAnn and Ann. I named Ann after JoAnn. … JoAnn…I forget what she died with—they said it was spleen anemia. They were going to take her spleen out. They were just experimenting. Helen, Alta, Paul, Calvin, Maxine, JoAnn and Ann …

Mother … was the best nurse I ever had. She could sure tend little babies when they were first born. I was afraid she would drop them and I’d lay awake waiting, but she never dropped a baby. All my worry was for nothing. There was nobody like my kids. I thought they were the only ones on earth.

I sold shoes for 15 years. I could walk along the street and tell them what size they wore just from looking at them. Oh, yes, I sold shoes and they’d come in some of those fancy women and I’d measure their foot, and I’d go get the shoe and they’d say what do you mean, I don’t wear that big a shoe—say a seven and they’d say I wear a five and I’d go get a five and I’d go get a five and put the shoe on behind and they’d stand up and they’d cram their foot in and their instep would be crammed up like that but they’d get it on their toes, push it down on their heels and right down under the heel, I would put SF [which meant] self-fit. And they’d bring them back and the manager would turn it over and see that SF and say we can’t exchange them. The women would fuss because he wouldn’t exchange the shoes and he would say well you fit them yourself, you wouldn’t let the clerk fit you, and we won’t take them. They would leave. Yes, I sold shoes for many years there. And then I used to model shoes. They’d get some new ones in and they’d have me put them on and then walk up and down and show the ladies how the shoes looked. I did that along with selling.

When I sold shoes was when I lived up in the Avenues, I think, I don’t remember for sure, I guess it was, I’d go down and catch the bus. Did we call them street cars then or buses? I think it was a street car. I’m sure it was. There was a street car line that came up from the Temple. I’d go down and catch them. And then I drove a car, I drove a car back to the back parking lot and then I’d go home at lunch to see that Ann would come home for lunch and then I’d drive back to Auerbach’s. I then I got Sister Aryton (Bill’s mother) to stay with Ann to see that she got home and see that she got lunch and all and then I didn’t have to drive up so far and back. Sister was very good with Ann. Ann was a mischief maker. There was this old man, we lived in the front of the house, and this old man lived in a little two rooms at the back and I used to fill a plate a paper plate with a nice dinner and take it over for him to eat, I felt sorry for him. And Ann, what did she do, she swiped his cane or something and hid it.

I was Stake Supervisor of the kindergarten department and used to go around and teach them how to teach their kindergarten/department in the Sunday school. I was in the Relief Society. I was first counselor in the Relief Society. And, what else…I had three jobs in the Church.

Pasadena. Walnut Street? I don’t know. I had a real nice ward in California. Yes. We’d rent a bus and drive it to the Church, we’d charge them $1 round trip to go from the Church to the Temple and back, plus my husband and I would make each of them a pack lunch and give it to them, and the Bishop would say be sure to get on the bus to go to the Temple and get a Morgan lunch and I got up and corrected him and said that J- T- was fixing the lunch, and you know what J- T- did, charged them for the lunch. And you know what my silly husband did, he’d follow J- around and those that couldn’t pay, he’d pay for the lunch. I said, my gosh there isn’t a person on that bus that hasn’t got more money than we’ve got, and he said well that’s not the point dear! We’re working for the Lord, this is the Church. I didn’t like that, paying for everybody’s lunch. So I said we could fix it cheaper that that, so we fixed the lunch. I’d make cookies and buy three or four loaves of bread and make them a sandwich and some kind of fruit—grapes or something. Then we’d just hand it to them, we wouldn’t charge them.


That's the end of the interview and the lives of Harold and Jessie Christensen Morgan. (At least for now.) Next up is John Hamilton Morgan.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part B

On Childhood and Marriage

I got married the 28th of March and I wanted to be different. But I was just a woman and I got married and left immediately for Holbrook to go through the temple and we went back and went through the temple and it took us all day at that time to go through the temple. It took us all day long and we never had anything to eat—we didn’t eat anything and when we got out Harold was so sick. Got in a taxi and it was kind of hot in there. The Salt Lake Temple.

I remember one big snowstorm we had in St. Johns. Boy it was cold. And mother had gone to Phoenix to visit Addie and left we children with Dad and Dad had run out and the cellar was built on top of the ground with the double wall and little windows and he would go out there and cut off a piece of meat, it was frozen stiff, put it in the kettle and make some soup. We sure had lots of soup and the potatoes were frozen—just frozen and we’d have to peel the potatoes and put them in some water to take the frost out and put them in the soup and my little brother Paul had some boots and he had a boot jack to pull off his boots and he sat there and pulled off his boots and put them on until it froze his heels. We were in a mess when mother got home. All of the fields frozen. Then we had a big fire. Everybody in town was in it trying to…haystacks burnt up, trying to get the horses out—you know you can’t hardly get a horse out of a fire. They’d pull on the horse and pull on it and finally they would get them out, but they won’t go out of a fire, they want to stay there. This fire started on the Conrad Overson side. I think he was smoking and threw a cigarette down and started the straw and that started the hay and there was no water in town, they turned the city ditch water down and ran buckets of water down but it didn’t do much good. They didn’t have a fire department or anything. Someone said St. Johns had grown clear out to the Mexican graveyard. … I’d hate to live out there—if the reservoir broke, boy, would they ever go down.

Did the reservoir ever break when you were little?

Yes, it did. I remember all the houses floating off and one house cracked right in two, furniture going down.

Sister Greer had her home just above us and they opened her house for a mortuary and it was full of dead people. One woman I remember, mother told me, this woman had this long hair and it was just full of cockleburrs and they had to just comb it the best they could and then cut it off so they could fix her hair. Yes, that was a terrible sight. Never will forget that.

Where did you live after you were married?

In the Aircastle. It was just an old house. It was just a slim house with an upstairs and they called it the Aircastle and they had a little room built on the back and we lived in the little room on the back—in St. Johns. They had an apple tree out just by my door, I lived…so I would take those apples that fell on the ground and peeled them and dried them and I had a flour sack half full of dried apples and then I took some of the crabapples and made jelly and bottled them whole, and I didn’t pick any, I just took what had come from the ground, and when they come over and saw what I had, they charged me for it and then we moved. We were paying them rent and they were so mad to think I had got some of their apples, they charged me for them. The rest of the year they just lay there and rotted.

Dad was a blacksmith and Brother Udall asked him if he would take some apples on part of his pay and Dad said he would do that, so he said for me to go up and get the apples, and Brother Udall said there they are on the ground, you go and pick your wagon full. So I took the apples home and mother said, well these are all bruised. I said, well she had me pick them up off the ground. So mother said well, you stay here, I’ll be back in a minute, so mother took the wagon, spitting fire when she left, and she went and dumped them in Udall’s lot and she went to the door and said I brought your apples back, there they are, she said, I’ll take money for what you owe my husband. The Udalls were just beside themselves. Nobody could get the best of mother. She said you better get it, I’ll take the money. I’m not taking rotten apples. Mother was a regular businesswoman.

If Dad had let her do the charging and collecting he’d have been rich, but he was so good to people. I don’t know whether that is good or not. I guess they didn’t have any money—if they needed something from the market, I guess they’d charge it. He did keep books, but he never collected much, until after he’d call. Mother sure collected.

Where was your first baby born?

In St. Johns. Mother’s home. Helen, oh she was cute, oh she was pretty. Everybody in town came to see her. She was the prettiest thing—well, I thought so, I was her mother. She laughed. I used to take her to choir practice with me. I used to keep my babies clean. Sister Brown would come down and say what’s the matter with Jessie. And mother would say, why. And she would say well all the other girls take the babies out but I never see Jessie take any of them out. Mother asked why I didn’t take the babies out and tend them for the mothers and I said because they stink. The babies did stink. They didn’t keep them clean. Mother said well that is excuse enough, I don’t blame you.


To be continued...

Monday, February 16, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part A

Excerpts from an interview of Jessie Christensen Morgan, April 1, 1977, Salt Lake City, Utah. By James Tanner.


On her childhood

I remember going to school and I remember my geography class more than anything because Lyle Greer was my teacher and see the top of the map was North and he’d say right up at the top and I thought he meant right up in the stars, and I would say how far up, how far up in the stars, and he’s say come here. Come here to me and I’d go up to him and he’d put a chunk of ice down my back and every noon when I’d go home for lunch, mother would have to change my clothes cause I’d be so wet clear through with ice down my back and she told him if he did that again, she would have him barred from teaching and so then he would have me hold my hand out and he’d strike it with a ruler and I’d shut my hand like this so mother couldn’t see. It was just bleeding where he had hit my hand with the ruler and I’d go this way so mother couldn’t see. Oh, he was mean. I would have liked to have choked him.

And I remember they used to pay their tithing with eggs, fruit and all this stuff, grain, and over at the tithing office they had a cellar with a door that opened out and some boys pushed me down on the grain and threw a mouse down there, and I screamed and screamed and finally had a regular convulsion I was so afraid and that made me afraid of mice. That was mean. I was just scared to death. They used to have lots of mice in the homes. I’d go home from Mutual or something and see a mouse and I’d jump from one chair to another.

I had a little Shetland pony that was mine. I used to go out to the sheds once in a while. Dad would let me ride it with an Indian blanket and a loop on his nose—just a rope and a loop on his nose. And I’d go out with the calves and there were a lot of prairie dog holes and whenever he’d see a prairie dog hole he’d stop and I’d go over his head and sit on the ground and then I’d get up and pick up my blanket and get back on and then we’d go on. I guess I’d go over his head about four or five times every time I rode. Dad said he would give me a dollar if I would milk the cows and oh, that dollar was big, he pulled it out of his pocket—silver dollar it was. So I went down to the corral and he sat on the granary steps and I started to say, so, just as I started to climb through the rail fence to get in to milk the cow, and I got up to her and I said so, so, so and she turned her head to look at me and I ran for the fence. And then any time I did anything that was big or important, he’d give me a fat calf. When I was married I had seven head of cows. I had one old jersey cow that was so tame, and when I had got her she was so mean I had to tie her legs together to milk her. I was scared to death of animals.


To be continued...

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Happy Valentines

I realize this is a birthday card, but how better to celebrate Valentine's Day here than to enjoy some of the sentiments shared by Harold and Jessie...

Friday, February 13, 2009

Jessie Finds Herself in the Middle of the 1967 Newark Race Riots

Jessie Christensen Morgan was visiting her daughter Alta in Newark, New Jersey (she calls it New Ark), when riots began after a black cab driver was beaten by police officers. The riots lasted for six days with 26 dead, 725 estimated injured, close to 1,500 arrested, and property damage estimated at over $10 million.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part VII

Jessie in Salt Lake City.

Harold and I were buying the St. Johns Observer. I ran the press and Harold wrote the stories and set the type. One time Harold shoved his hand under the press while it was going. I ran across the street and got Dr. Bolton and Harold nearly fainted. If he hadn’t had his hand full of type he’d never have used that hand again. The type smashed his hand and one knuckle was dislocated.

Harold got the news. He saw some Mineer lady pass by the window one day and she was just about to have a baby. He thought that by the time the paper came out that she’d have had that baby—so he put it in the paper that Mrs. Mineer had a big, bouncing, 9 pound boy. My land, I looked out the window the day after the paper was released and there walked Mrs. Mineer down the other side of the street still expecting her baby. Finally, two days later, she had a baby. Thankfully it was a boy. Harold was that kind of a guy. He wanted to scoop everything. He wanted to know everything first. He always liked newspaper work. He was the Editor of the high school paper and I helped him. I got so used to him making mistakes on the high school paper, it wasn’t anything getting used to him working on the St. Johns Observer. One time in St. Johns, the Professor walked over to see the Little Colorado River and some high school boys went over after him and dunked him in the river. Harold put it in the school newspaper and he got in a lot of trouble. He had a way about him that if he was in trouble, the whole student body would stand up for him.

We moved to Salt Lake and Grandpa worked on the Tribune. He was head of the copy desk. That means they sat at a round table and they went through yesterdays newspaper and got the news of the day and he gave each person a piece to rewrite. He was very good on news. He had a nose for news. I think he was one of the best newspapermen I was ever around.

When we moved to Salt Lake we lived down on about 8th South and Main Street in a little house behind a big home. We had two rooms and a cookstove. My mother-in-law lived with us and she had a good way of scraping her feet, like my house was so filthy that she had to scrape her feet. That used to irk me.

Helen, Alta, Paul, Calvin and Maxine.

We had the Deseret News, Salt Lake Tribune, New York Times, a Chicago paper, and the San Francisco Examiner every day delivered to our home. Harold would read them but I just read the headlines of some of them.

One time they chose out of each ward a couple of people to sing in the Singing Mothers at Conference. I was chosen to sing alto. I sang on the front row of the choir seats in the tabernacle just clear of the podium. I was always singing in a group, a quartet or a double quartet.


That was the end of the interview. I'm going to post some miscellaneous items and will probably miss a few days before starting to post Jessie's interview by one of her grandsons.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part VI

Just before Helen was born we heard the Lyman Dam had broken and we went up to see the water. It took all the houses over in Mexican town and we could see them floating down the water. Several people were killed.

I was married about 15–16 months and I had Helen. She was born in St. Johns. I thought Helen was so cute. I came home one day from meeting carrying Helen and Charlie Wright’s wife was walking in front of me. Her baby was talking and she put her baby down and it walked. Helen wouldn’t do anything. She’d just sit like a dummy. I put Helen down. Mother and Daddy were sitting on the porch, and said, “Here’s this dumb kid. Anybody can have her. I don’t want her.” My Dad said, “Shame on you. What’s the matter?” I said, “She’s so dumb she can’t do anything. I don’t want her.” He said, “The problem is—you never teach her anything.” He said, “Let me take her.” He took Helen and stood her out and said, “Come to Grandpa.” She ran up to him and he said, “Say Daddy, Mommy…” He kept asking her words to say and she’d repeat them. Then she started to sing “Catch The Sunshine.” Daddy said, “See, all you have to do is teach her.” Oh dear, I thought she was precious then. She was smart as a whip.

Helen, Maxine, and Alta.

Grandpa came back to St. Johns when school was out and taught school in St. Johns. They had a big banquet up to Patterson’s Hotel and all the teachers had to go. I didn’t have any shoes. I didn’t have anything to wear. We had to put all of our money into Harold so he could go to the banquet.

Helen and Alta.

Alta had the thickest hair. I used to curl Helen’s hair, it wasn’t as thick, for Sunday school. I’d just cut Alta’s hair off in a dutch cut. Mother would say, “Shame on you. You always curl Helen’s hair and fix her up and that little darling Alta you never do anything for her.” I said, “Do you want to curl it?” So she started in and until she got to the first ear she’d say, “Turn your head, darling.” After she got past there she’d say, “Turn your head.” And then as she got near the back she’d say sternly, “TURN your head.” I’d say to Mother, “What’s wrong with the precious little darling?” She’d say, “Hush up.” Alta’s hair was so thick and when she’d curl it, it would stick right straight out. She looked like the devil.

Alta, Maxine, Helen, Joan, Paul, and Calvin.

When Alta was a baby we moved up on the hill to H. Udall’s house. His wife had just died and he wanted me to move up there. She had five rooms and we just took the three and I was afraid to stay up there because Ruth had just died. He rented the other side to George Brown and Amy.

I stopped working at the phone company when my children came. I had to nurse them and stay in bed for a long time. They didn’t even let me dangle my feet for two weeks. I sat up on the side of the bed one day after I had Helen and mother caught me. She thought I was going to die. It was just the law that you stayed in bed. I stayed in bed for two weeks and Mother took care of my baby.


Calvin, Paul, and Maxine.


To be continued...

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part V

I came to Salt Lake and lived with Addie and Andrew and went to the LDS High School, Mother paid them board for me to stay there and she would send me a couple of dollars extra just for me because it was hard to get extra money in those days and especially for mother. We just lived a little ways down from West High School but I walked to the LDS High School right across from the temple.

In high school in St. Johns Harold Morgan was President of the student body and I was Vice-president. Harold danced at the dances like he was saying his prayers or something. He’d hold your arm and we’d dance up one side of the dance hall and get to a corner and we’d have to stop and walk out because he couldn’t turn around. So we’d have to start all over again and then he could do pretty well until we got to the other corner. He was funny.

We got married in Mother’s front room on March 28, 1914. He didn’t buy me a ring until we moved to Salt Lake and then he bought me the one I have now. It was wider then and it was all gold. Later he took it and had it cut down and covered with silver gold and left the yellow-gold on the inside because he was afraid we’d look old.

When I was first married we lived in an old house that was just a slim house two stories high. It was called the air castle. I lived in the back in two little rooms and my mother-in-law lived in front.


This is not Jessie.
It is a single-operator telephone switchboard from the right era, however.


I was a telephone operator for five towns and I’d go to work every morning and keep the telephone office. People would call me up and say, “Jessie, has Lavenia left home?” and I’d say, “I don’t know whether Lavenia has left home or not,” I’d say, “I’ll plug you in.” I’d plug in and nobody would answer and so I’d say I guess nobody answered so she wasn’t home. One day the St. Johns newspaper called me up and George Waite ran it and he said, “Jessie, if you don’t stop having every old woman in town call here, I’m going to get your job,” I said, “Go ahead and get it—you won’t get much, I only plug it into the paper when they ask for you,” I worked for the telephone company before I was married and kept right on working after I was married.

Harold taught school out to Sadro. Sadro is a little place between Gallup and St. Johns. He lived with a Mexican family. He’d come into town and the first thing he’d want was to go up to the drugstore and buy a big bucket of hot chili because that’s what the Mexicans ate. He always got a bucket and ate it. I never ate it because it was too hot.

Addie, my only sister, lived just a block below me, and we’d meet every morning and go up to mother’s and she’d walk back with us. One morning I had the boiler on to have wash water because I was going to do my washing as soon as I got home. My mother-in-law was going to do my washing as soon as I got home. My mother-in-law Mrs. Morgan, lived right in front of me and she went in after I had left one morning to teach me to do my work before I went anyplace. She put a big log of wood in the stove and got the water to boiling and then she put a cup of coal oil in the water and it boiled up on the stove and blazed up and burned the ceiling that we’d put up. We’d just returned home and saw all the smoke and found it was our own house. We got the hose and put it out.

I was so glad because I got to move over to the Dormitory. It was a great big house that the Whitings owned and they had it a long time as a Dormitory for the high school for kids that would come up for school from out of town. So I moved up there and then pretty soon Roll Jones and his wife moved over there and then George Brown and his wife Comfort. They had to call Comfort, Amy, to make her happy. And the three married couples lived upstairs in this house. We all had a baby about the same age and we kept a screen across the stairs so they would not get hurt.


To be continued...

Photo of the telephone operator from flickr.com/photos/32912172@N00/3173597640/
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Monday, February 9, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part IV

I’ll tell you my mother was a dressmaker. She used to sew for all of the Mexicans in town and half the white people. She sure made me some pretty dresses. She had one pattern and she made everybody’s pattern from that. They were all different dresses. She had a pasteboard and everybody’s size was punched in holes on it and she just put her pencil in and drew all the holes and then cut the pattern out. She was sewing on her machine all the time. She even made wedding dresses. I had the prettiest dresses in the school.

Marinus Christensen on the right in front of his blacksmith shop.

My Dad was a blacksmith and he was also Superintendent of the Stake Sunday School. My brother Elmer was his secretary. One day Elmer told Dad that if this certain brother came in and slapped him on the back that morning and said, “Good morning, Brother Christensen,” he was going to leave. He didn’t like anyone paying attention to him. He sure was a good secretary. So pop just busted to get over there before the meeting so he could warn the Brother but just as they walked through the door, he slapped Elmer on the back and said “How are ya Brother Christensen?” Elmer got up and left. That irked Elmer because people would call him Brother Christensen. Then they put me in as Stake Secretary. But Elmer did all the work. He was excellent in figures. I knew my figures but I wasn’t as smart as Elmer.

In St. Johns during the dances we couldn’t hear the orchestra for the feet a scraping on the floor. The orchestra was just Brother Mineer playing his fiddle and somebody else played the guitar. We had wonderful dances. One night Joe Jarvis came in a cart with two horses hooked on it. He stopped and got me first and then he went up and he stopped and went in and got Ethyl Greer. It just tickled me so much and I thought it was funny. Ethyl just sat there with a solemn face. So we got to the dance and he said, “Well, I’ll tell you, Ethyl. I picked Jessie up for the dance first so I’ll dance with Jessie first and then I’ll come and dance with you.” Ethyl was not too happy. As we were going down to dance Joe said, “I’m dancing with you first because I’ll never get another chance.” He didn’t.

Jessie is second from the right, next to Albert Anderson, her boyfriend at the time.

The desperados used to ride through the town in St. Johns when I was a young girl. One time they came up through town shooting up the town. I crawled under the steps of the old school-house as they passed and they just shot in the air and everyplace and rode back and forth through town shooting. They shot out over these pastures in St. Johns. They weren’t all wet and soggy like they are now. They rode out over there and then a posse of men went out after them and the desperados shot Willey Berry and killed him.

I had the worst time in my life trying to be educated in music. There was nothing I wanted to do more than play some instrument or take music lessons. So I went down to Uncle Andy’s sister Naomi Gibbons and I washed and scrubbed floors for two days to get a piano lesson. She was good. The problem was I never got a very good lesson. Her kids were always jumping up on the stool and screaming in and out and yelling and pounding on the upper part of the piano until I quit. I said I wasn’t going down there anymore and Mother agreed with me, I still enjoyed singing. I was always in a quartet or a double mixed quartet either in church or school. I was singing all the time.

One time my mother went to Phoenix to visit Addie and we were left alone with Dad. While she was gone we had one of the biggest snow storms that ever hit St. Johns. My brother Paul wore some boots and he had a boot jack that would help him pull his boots off. He’d just sit down and pull his boots on and off. He kept them off so much pulling them off and on that I let him freeze his heels. I didn’t know his heels were frozen. Mother came home and Paul had his heels frozen and I’d never made the bed because Elmer wouldn’t let me in the bedroom. He’d get up in the transom and take a broom and if I started in the bedroom to make the bed, he’d swing the broom and hit me. We’d have soup every day when Mother was gone. We had a cellar that was built on top of the ground with windows. It was just as cold as ice inside. Dad always had half of a beef hung in there and sheep and there was a rug for the pans of milk. Dad would go out and saw a piece of meat and put it on to boil and then he’d bring some potatoes in and I’d have to peel them and put them in the soup. It seemed to me like Mother was gone forever.

When she returned she brought a trunkful of oranges home from Phoenix. Just to tell you the kind of Mother I had, she sent a little bucket full of oranges to all of the neighbors and then we had a taste. She said we had enough and she didn’t want the neighbors to go without.


To be continued...

Picture of oranges from flickr.com/photos/thepma/443241604/.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

"Hello, Grandma!"

If you read the blog regularly (or even sporadically), this picture may look familiar. If it does, it's because I used it in a post two days ago.

The girl on the left is Jessie Christensen. I cropped this photo down from a page of photos out of a scrapbook that my dad scanned from a box of family mementos he received from the family of one of Jessie's daughters. Although I straightened, cropped, and posted the picture, I never looked at all the people in the picture until a reader of the blog mentioned possibly recognizing someone in another photo. Then I thought I should also look at the other people in the photos. When I clicked on the photo, it was too large for my browser window, and I had to scroll the photo to the left to see everyone.

As I reached the last person in the line (one of the adult leaders of the young women's group), I said, "Hello, Grandma!" It is Grandpa's grandma Margaret Jarvis Overson.

So on the left is Granny's mother, and on the right is Grandpa's grandma. Not a remarkable circumstance, considering the size of St. Johns, Arizona, but a fun discovery nonetheless.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Morgan 3: Jessie Christensen Morgan, Part III

St. Johns Academy Class of 1911 with Harold and Jessie marked.

We used to do some funny things. Mother would have fainted if she would have known them. One day some of my girlfriends and I went to Berry’s and borrowed some men’s suits and hats and put them on and went downtown past the ice cream parlor. These Berrys in the ice cream parlor saw us pass and they came out and they started to chase us. So we ran and I just heeled it up and started to crawl under Tenney’s fence and my pants came off. They were too big for me anyway and I just mopped the top of the fence on the pickets. I crawled out of my pants and hid back in the current bushes. The boys finally left and I went home.

I remember that I just hated school because of the teachers I had. I couldn’t understand a map and I thought north was straight up in the air. I didn’t know it was on the paper. I couldn’t get it in my head. I’d raise my hand up (I didn’t have sense enough not to raise my hand anymore) and I’d raise my hand and go up and ask the teacher if north was straight up in the air. My teacher would say to hold out my hand and he’d hit it with a ruler.

Some of my friends were Mary Ann Jones, Viola Thomas and Ethyl Greer. I had a lot of friends.

The first group of "Beehives" in St. Johns with Jessie Christensen on the left.

I used to walk in my sleep. Mother and Dad used to lock the door at the top and the bottom. But I’d get up (I was asleep when I did it) and unlock the screen door at the top and the bottom and walk out, I woke up one night and the moon was just going down and I looked down and I was on top of the tithing office barn. I was scared to death. You had to go up these high steps just to get up to this little platform to sit down. I went down as fast as I could and sent home and mother said, “Where have you been?” I said I was up on the tithing office steps. She asked me what I was doing up there. I said I didn’t know but I had woken up and saw the tithing office barn so I came home. She sent up in the morning and there was my quilt, I had taken it with me. If I hadn’t left it on the tithing office steps they wouldn’t have believed me.

Main Street, St. Johns.

On the 4th of July they’d have quite a celebration. They’d have a program in the morning and a little dance in the afternoon. At the dance they’d have a great big tub full of candy. They’d get up on the stage (there was a stage in the old schoolhouse) and throw the candy on the floor. Then the kids would have to get down on their hands and knees and scramble on the floor for the candy. I never would scramble but I wouldn’t have to because all the boys would bring me some. I wasn’t going to be humiliated by getting down on the floor.

We never had a Christmas tree in our house and all we had to do was go up on the hill and cut one. Not until Joe was left home alone did they put up a tree. We would hang up our stockings and my brothers would hang up their pants. They would tie the legs at the bottom. They got a .22 Rifle once. The card said that it was to both boys. We owned a half of a block in town and down below was just the alfalfa and over to the side was the coral and then the wood pile and then the house. One day Dad said he was going to go out and show the boys how to shoot by the poplar trees. So he told them to do just as Daddy did. They went out in the poplar trees and he was going to show them the gun and how to handle it. Just as he shot, the old milk cow, Bossy, walked out. She fell down and all her legs went up in the air and she was dead. The neighbor across the street came over and they skinned the cow and brought into the house a big chunk of meat and my mother said they could just take it out because she wasn’t going to cook old Bossy.

My Dad was the constable and he was called up if there were big fights in town. One time they had a big row up in Mexican town and one fellow was shot. Well—Dad was gone a long time, Pretty soon he came back and threw a big chunk of meat down on the table. He had gone to a butcher shop and bought the meat but when he threw it down on the table my mother thought it was the Mexican and she fainted.


To be continued...