Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Dad and Mom: Young adult and early marriage years

Edmund Richardson and Mary Ann Darrow - Part II


On August 3, 1853, the Richardson's entered the Salt Lake Valley. In the evening they made camp on the west bank of the Jordan River. They hoped this location was far enough from the city to be safe from the Mormons, yet near enough to afford them protection from the Indians. So far, they knew nothing about the Mormons, except for the vile things they had heard from Mormon haters. Before supper was ready, a barefoot boy forded the now shallow river on a pony, dismounted at their camp, & graciously offered them a pail of fresh milk. He explained that his mother had seen their campfire & thought the fresh milk might be refreshing to weary travelers. The Richardson's called this gift, "The milk of kindness", but thought it strange that it would come from the malicious Mormons. The work necessary to sustain the family was found at West Jordan, ten miles southwest of Salt Lake City. Here, as in their own Vermont, mills formed the nucleus of the village & furnished work for the people. Mary Ann found work at a woolen factory owned by Matthew Gaunt. Archibald Gardner, ever on the alert for expert help in building his 32 mills, discovered Edmund Richardson & rejoiced when he noted the fine work Edmund did on the West Jordan flourmill located on the mill race a mile above the Gardner saw mill. The Richardson family probably lived in one of the adobe houses Mr. Gardner furnished for the families of their hired help.


 Quoting from Edmund & Sullie, we have the story of the family's conversion to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints: Their first association with their Mormon neighbors was when one invited them to his home for supper. They were fearful that their host might be offended at persons professing other than the Mormon religion. They recalled the persecutions they had previously suffered at the hands of their own people when they left the Baptist Church & joined the Presbyterians. However, as the lesser of two evils, they accepted the invitation. A few days later another dinner invitation was accepted, &, with these associations removing some of their fears, Edmund accepted an invitation from his boss to attend a Mormon meeting. That was the beginning of a new life for them. Edmund felt that he had heard the first real gospel sermon of his life. Edmund & Mary were baptized 3 October 1853 by Ralph Thompson. They then received a call from their Prophet, Brigham Young, to settle in Sanpitch (Manti), Utah, as reinforcements for the struggling pioneers there.


The Walker War had begun on 18 July 1853. It was thought to have been precipitated by an accidental killing of an Indian boy by Alex Keel of Payson. This war cost the lives of many people, beginning with that of Alex Keel. Reports of the killing of four Manti Brethren by the Indians prompted Brigham Young to immediate action in an attempt to prevent a repetition. He called a company of families, the Richardson's among them, to reinforce the beleaguered saints at Manti. Obedient to the call, these people immediately began preparations to make the move. On 4 October 1853, the Indians killed the miller of Manti, John E. Warner, & his guard, Brother William Mills. In preparation for the now imperative measure of moving the mill from the mouth of the canyon into town, a stock supply of flour had to be ground. William Black, who later married Emma Lynette Richardson, & Martin Wood, were called to keep the mill running night & day. They worked under guard of two men during the day & twelve at night. On 1 November 1853, the grinding ceased, the guards were called off, & the men were instructed to rest a few days before beginning to move the mill. "But the Indians were evidently watching us, for on the 6th day of November, the mill was burned & everything pertaining to it were lost," wrote William Black.


The reinforcement company was reported to have left Salt Lake City 10 December 1853. Of this trip Emma Lynette Richardson wrote: "We started in the dead of winter, which was a very bad winter. Snow was four feet deep and still snowing in Salt Creek Canyon (Nephi Canyon), and it was cold! We had scant clothing & scant everything else. One man by the name of Michaelson froze his feet so badly that he lost part of them through tramping snow & breaking roads so that the teams could get through. We were about two weeks going from West Jordan to Manti. We camped in Ephraim one night & got into Manti the next night after dark." The welcome given by the 647 residents of Manti to those recruits was everything they could give. When Bishop Lowry asked who could take the new people in, practically every house was thrown open. Perhaps it would be better to say "every room" was thrown open, for as Emma said, "Very few families had more than one room, and we moved right in with Sister Margaret Black & her family in a room in the old log fort." With the gristmill gone, flour was at a premium that winter, so Edmund put his little iron coffee mill to work. Emma says the little grinder was passed around the neighborhood & was kept busy all winter. She said that boiled whole wheat was very good to eat as cereal, & also tasted good when fried. In the spring of 1854, the Richardson's & John Crawford's moved into John Chase's room. When winter came, they were able to move into a large room vacated by William Behunin.


Continuing Indian trouble & increasing numbers of settlers made it necessary to make a larger fort. Many settlers who had been dangerously isolated fled into Manti for protection. Edmund Richardson reached Manti in time to help plan & build the Big Fort, which began in 1854. He describes the Fort as covering nine square blocks, which included the little stone Fort. The walls were twelve feet high, two feet wide at the top, & were set on a foundation three feet wide. It was built mostly of quarried rock, though part of it was one in the Old Spanish style by making a frame of wood & filling this with mud. Some of it was built of large adobes. Military rule was proclaimed at Manti, & work on the Fort was pushed as rapidly as possible. A standing guard was set up. Each morning at the beat of the drum, every man answered to roll call & received his orders for both day & night duty. The men went for wood in companies of not less than ten or twelve & were guarded by two mounted men who stationed themselves upon some lookout to keep constant watch as the others worked.


As Edmund worked on the Council House & the fort, he dreamed of having a home of his own. He got a lot just southeast of the meetinghouse block & found time to build an adobe house on it.


Beneath acres of arid sagebrush lay rich tillable soil. But it took a great deal of time & effort to clear, cultivate & plant the seeds that would make it yield sufficient food for the newcomers. Even with the crops growing there were other problems to face. One season the grasshoppers devoured all the garden produce except the pumpkins & potatoes, & the Indians helped themselves to them before they were ripe. The Richardson family, along with all of their neighbors, had very little to eat. So serious was the situation that the wheat supply was pooled & then divided among the families according to number & ages. All were instructed to adhere strictly to the stipulated rations in order to insure the wheat supply until food could be raised. Toward spring, as an added precaution, Sister Pamela, wife of Orville S. Cox, sliced her bread, re-browned it in the oven & reduced it to crumbs. Each morning she doled out two spoonfuls of crumbs to each family member. One day a neighbor came to Brother Cox pleading for help. His wheat supply was all gone, he confessed, because they had been lax about rationing, & his children were crying for bread. Though Walter Cox was a child, he considered himself too big to cry about anything. However, he found tears running down his thin cheeks as he watched his father divide their meager wheat supply equally with the neighbor. Because he was always hungry on the rations they had, Walt was sure his family would die on one spoonful of crumbs per day. However, that night at family prayer, he felt consoled as he listened to his father's petition for help. Some time later, as Walt passed Temple Hill on his way to herd the sheep, he noticed a patch of green plants growing at its southern base. Though they were somewhat different than pigweed or redroot, Walt carried an armful home to his mother, confident that they were the answer to his father's prayer for food. When Sister Cox found the greens superior to any she had tasted before, she spread the good news to the rest of her neighbors. Every day the greens were carefully cut to the ground. Every morning they had grown enough for another day's cutting, & the people gave thanks to the Lord for the "Manna Weed". They also marveled that during the long season, appetites continued to relish the greens & stomachs to tolerate them. However, when the spring gardens produced abundantly, the greens disappeared & were never known to grow there again. Walter told that all his life he searched unsuccessfully for some of those "Manna Weeds" with their own special flavor.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Edmund Richardson and Mary Ann Darrow -- Part I

(From a Richardson family history, written in 1968)

Our first recorded history of Edmund Richardson is a short biography written by his wife, Mary Ann Darrow, & signed by himself. A portion of this biography says:

"I was born on the 13th day of February 1816 in the town of Mount Holly, Rutland County, Vermont. My father was Calvin Richardson (son of William Richardson & Lovina Taft) who was a surgeon in the Revolutionary War. My mother's name was Mindwell Barrett (daughter of Isaac Barrett & Ruhamah Boyce). After living with my father until of age, I started for the West. I stopped off at Washington County, New York, where I married Mary Ann Darrow on August 2, 1840."

Mary Ann Darrow was a native of Hebron, Washington County, New York, having been born there 28 February 1818. Her father was Stephen Darrow (son of Jedediah Darrow & Sarah Whedon or Wheaton) & her mother was Harriet Burbank (daughter of Isaac Burbank & Judith Allen). During her teens she worked in a cloth factory & there learned the trade of a weaver. She was 22 & he was 24 when they were married in her hometown. The following year their home was blessed with a little girl, Emma Lynette, born 31 October 1841. A son, George Alvin, was born 4 September 1846, after they moved back to Mount Holly, Vermont. Here Edmund's talents as a skilled craftsman were manifest in the fine home he built. Mary Ann considered it the finest she had ever seen.

Edmund's account of leaving Vermont gives us an insight into the vital & dominant part that religion played in their lives. He wrote: "I moved back to Vermont where myself & wife were united with the Presbyterian Church. Since my father's family was of the Baptist Church, ill feelings & persecutions arose & grew to the extent that I could no longer live in peace. Therefore, I moved to Cannelton, Perry County, Indiana."

They began this trip in 1848 when their daughter Emma Lynette was 7 years old & their son George was three. At Cannelton Edmund & Mary Ann worked much of the time in a cotton factory. Here Mary Ann perfected her skill as a weaver, which later proved so beneficial to her family & friends.

Religious activities occupied much of Edmund's time in Cannelton. He worked as a deacon of the Presbyterian Church under Reverend Whitworth, & since he was also a trustee, he carried much of the responsibility of the Church. Upon hearing rumors of the great opportunities in Oregon, Edmund & the reverend Whitworth decided to go & organize a Presbyterian Colony there.


After several weeks, when the company was finally organized, Edmund was placed second in command. With three ox teams & a well-built wagon, he was considered well equipped for the trip. In 11 wagons, the party began the long trek to Oregon on 1 April 1853. They followed the much-used Oregon Trail. The location & good quality of the 2,000-mile trail between the Missouri & Columbia Rivers was attributed to the fact that in many places it followed old Indian trails.

Emma says they walked much of the way. She also says: "We saw many graves where the emigrants the year before had lost loved ones. The wolves had dug into many of them & you could see scattered about bones, hair, & bits of clothing that the dead had been buried in. As they could not get coffins, many of the dead were wrapped in quilts or anything that the emigrants could spare. Some took parts of their wagon boxes and made rude coffins of them." During the three months travel across the plains, they also saw remains of burned wagons, indicating that entire companies had been wiped out by Indians.

Many dead animals were seen along the way. A forty-niner records counting 350 dead horses, 280 oxen, 120 mules, and hundreds of others left to die, within a distance of 15 miles. In ten miles he counted 350 abandoned wagons. Emma notes that at one time their eleven-wagon train was halted more than an hour to allow a herd of some 500 buffalo to return to their feeding grounds after drinking at the river.

During the trip members of the party managed to kill three buffalo, & Emma remarked that the sweet, juicy meat tasted very good. Of this part of the trip, a son, Charles Edmund Richardson says: "They had the usual trouble of those days with herds of buffalo, Indians & wild animals, & learned to defend themselves with the rifles & 'Yaugers'" (very old guns formerly carried by light infantry).

Their route paralleled the North Platte River for many miles. Since they crossed it some nine or ten times, it imposed its problems, as well as its blessings, upon the weary pioneers. They skirted its banks with caution, respected its swift currents & treacherous quicksand & used their ingenuity to assure safe crossings. At deep-water crossings, they sometimes inserted wooden blocks between the wagon bed & the running gears to elevate the load above the waterline, or they made rafts & ferried over. Always they stood ready to lend any needed assistance.

A near tragedy happened to the Richardson's at one of the river crossings. "Anxiety ran high as the eleven wagons prepared to ford the river." A mile-wide crossing disturbed even the oxen as they stepped gingerly into the swift, waist-deep current. When some teams on the wagons ahead of Edmund's became involved in the quicksand, he rushed to their assistance, leaving his wagon in the care of others. While he was away, his team yielded to the rush of the water & his wagon overturned, submerging all of its contents. Mary Ann was helped out, and George paddled to the shore, where he excitedly proclaimed what was painfully apparent to all--"Our wagon is tipped over."

Suddenly it occurred to Edmund that he hadn't seen Emma Lynette, his young daughter. Calling to his wife, he asked, "Where is Emma? Has anyone seen Emma?" Their frantic search sent Edmund & several of the men swimming to the overturned wagon, where they found the child trapped between the wagon cover & the load, apparently dead. When all efforts to resuscitate her failed, a by-stander remarked, "Well, I guess she is dead." This so agitated Edmund that he dropped the bottle of camphor he held, spilling its contents into the little girl's face. The strong stuff, running into her mouth, nose, & eyes revived her. Perhaps she was more smothered than drowned. The family thanked the Lord for His great blessing in saving her life.

Troubles continued to plague the group. One after another, Edmund's oxen died. His wagon, which had been considered an exceptionally fine vehicle, finally completely broke down & had to be abandoned. Its load was distributed among the other wagons, & the Richardson's rode with the John Carson family.

It is difficult enough for two families to live crowded together in a house, but being forced to crowd into one wagon was even worse. Riding week after week under a scorching sun & surrounded by many unknown dangers, the trip was even more difficult. To relieve the tension, Edmund bought a new wagon at Independence Rock, Wyoming. Situated on the north bank of the river, as William Clayton said, this rock is one of the curiosities to be seen on the road, mostly because of its peculiar shape & magnitude. It is 600 yards long & 120 wide. From the number of names inscribed on its southeast corner, it appears that many visitors climbed to the top to view the land. During low water, the river was easily forded at this point, but in high water, it was necessary to ford it a mile up stream. After buying the wagon, all went well until the party reached the Big Sandy River, where Edmund's best ox died. Since oxen were at a premium, this was a calamity of sufficient magnitude as to make it almost impossible for the Richardson family to continue on to Oregon.

Isn't it strange that this crippling incident should happen just at this point? It was so near to Salt Lake City that the only solution seemed to be for the Richardson's to spend the winter there & rejoin the others in Oregon in the spring. Reverend Whitworth's suggestion that with care, the Richardson's could get along with the ferocious Mormons for one winter. However, this offered small consolation to the stricken family.

Strangely, as soon as the family turned toward Salt Lake City, the troubles besetting them stopped. They also had fear of the Indians, but did not see one during the three weeks it took to make the trip to Salt Lake City.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Hold Tight to the Willows

Hold Tight to the Willows
Story frequently told by Bruce Merlin Flake
(As recounted by Garry Flake)

In a small Utah town when they did the spring plowing with horses, a farmer could hardly wait until he could start plowing and getting the ground ready for a crop. Finally, the ground was ready and he started plowing with little desire to stop. To help him out, his wife sent lunch down to the fields with their small son. The son looked down the long row and saw his father coming then when he was at the end made a turn to plow another round. The son, disappointed that his father didn't stop and bored, went over to a small stream with a rushing Spring runoff. He started to play at the side of the bank that gave way and he slid down into the icy water grabbing the willows on the creek bank and holding on until his dad would pull him out. He shouted for his dad who was now nearing where his son was but was so intent on his plowing that he shouted to his son, "Hold tight to the willows, son, while I plow one more round."

What are the "willows?” They are family heritage, tradition, the principles and ordinances of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and especially those in the temple that bind us together eternally. So, when temptation, doubt, frustration, family challenges, and discouragement come into our lives - HOLD TIGHT TO THE WILLOWS!!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Irene Stratton Flake


1907 - 2002

Irene Stratton Flake was born March 18, 1907 in Snowflake, Arizona to William Ellis and Minnie Kartchner Stratton.  Her parents, as young people, along with her grandparents had arrived in Snowflake nearly thirty years earlier in fulfillment of mission calls to resettle there.
Irene always recalled the happy memories of home and the Stratton family.  She appreciated how kind and gentle her parents were with their children and grandchildren.     She remembered her father saying, “Anything worth doing is worth doing well,” and her mother, “If you are dressing up to go somewhere, dress to look your best.” 
Irene did well in school.  She did not a miss a day of school in her twelve years in Snowflake Schools.  The Church academy changed to a state school, giving her the distinction of being the valedictorian of the first graduating class of Snowflake Union High School.  She learned to play the piano, enjoyed speech, drama and dances. 
 She had a great desire to go to college.  She worked part-time while she completed the two-year teacher course in Flagstaff then taught elementary school for several years. 
 When Bruce Flake returned from his mission, there began an interest in each other and Bruce became a frequent visitor at the Stratton home.  Bruce and Irene were married in the Salt Lake Temple on August 11, 1930. They traveled to Salt Lake, with chaperones, in the Model-T Ford that Irene purchased while teaching school.
Life was busy for the young couple with Irene teaching school the first year and Bruce establishing himself in ranching.  They were united in their efforts.  Home and family was the center of everything.  Bruce and Irene had eight children.   There was Rolf, Nena, then twin daughters, Leona and Lavona.  Irene often recalled how busy she was with four children under the age of five.  Rey was next.  Layne Kent, the sixth child only lived ten days leaving a sadness that couldn’t be totally erased.  Garry and Keith completed the family. 
Irene taught by example expecting her children to always do their best.   The family worked hard with daily chores, a ranch and a farm, a general mercantile store besides school and Church activities.  There was also time for music, reading and self-improvement.  There was time for Christmas, Thanksgiving, family reunions and Dutch- oven suppers, roller-skating and basketball, and other activities. 
Irene was pleased that her seven children filled missions, graduated from college, and married in the temple.   But, that wasn’t sufficient since they were often reminded they could do better and that she was trying to set the example.   
Irene served in many ward and stake positions.  She started selling LDS books as a service to ward members in the 1940’s, operating her bookstore over sixty years.  She was frugal and had good business sense.  
             The crowning Church service for Irene was to serve as an ordinance worker in the Mesa Arizona Temple, in English and in Spanish.  She served for over 30 years! 
            In 1971, at the age of 64, her husband Bruce passed away.  She could have become bitter but went right on as Bruce had urged her to do.  She simply bowed to the will of her Father in Heaven and for 31 years she stood at the head of her family.  She encouraged family unity and urged them to live the gospel.  There were lonesome days and challenges but she met them.   She made hundreds of friends with her captivating smile and genuine interest in others.  She attended dozens of wedding receptions and funerals.  She wrote letters of encouragement and poems to honor friends and family.  She enjoyed expressing herself in poetry.  She wrote family histories and compiled family lists for the extended Flake and Stratton families.  She prepared extensive books of remembrance for herself, Bruce and for each of her children.  She organized family letters and special thoughts into numerous binders.  She kept a detailed journal.   She read the scriptures, prayed regularly, and enjoyed beautiful music.  She spent hours playing the piano and the organ. 
             Her activity was complicated with macular degeneration that made her legally blind for more than fifteen years.  She had other ailments and her “jumpy leg” ailment worsened.  Life became more stressful but through it all Irene did not lose perspective.   She did not lose her sense of humor.  She was frugal and self-reliant.  Her mind was alert and her memory bright until the end. 
            Irene was unique in so many ways.  She expected a lot of herself and accomplished it through hard work.  She loved and urged her children and grandchildren to strive for excellence.  She was a bright shining example. 
             Irene wrote, shortly after Bruce’s death and over 30 years before her own passing, 
            “As surely as I live, beyond a doubt I know
            Sometime to an eternal home with my dear one I’ll go.
            I’ll face the future patiently and work and wait
            For the day that I’ll be with my sweetheart, my eternal mate.”
            Irene went to that eternal home and to Bruce when she passed away on June 15, 2002.  If her children and grandchildren do as she has taught them, it will allow the Lord in His due time to call each forward to hear, “Well done, though good and faithful servant.”  Then, each can join her and other grandparents KEEPING THE CHAIN UNBROKEN with happiness forever.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Friday, July 13, 2012

When Dad Mows the Lawn

Dear Sons,

 It’s been some weeks, as I recall,
         Since you went north to have a ball.
         I miss you guys since you’ve been gone,
         Like when I have to mow the lawn.
      Now mowing lawns is just a breeze,
         As I’ve oft said, giving you a squeeze.
         That breeze would be most welcome when
         The sweat is pouring off, young man!
      You see, I’ve learned it’s kinda hard,
         Pushing mowers all over that yard.
          I tremble, feel pounding in my heart.
         That’s before I get the mower to start!

         Then once or twice around the place
         The sweat starts pouring all over my face—
         My glasses get smeared and I can’t see,
         ‘Cuz dust is flying all over me.

         Sometimes I’m encouraged, finishing one patch
         Of lawn, thinking I’ll stop and catch
         My breath when the next part’s done—
         Then the mower quits and it won’t run!

         Or else the mower’s too heavy to pull
         Or push cause the catcher is clear full--
         I’m as far from the compost as I can be—
         Getting there takes an eternity!
      Sometimes I’m sailing along quite well,
         Thinking about teeth or something else swell,
         Then some tree branch reaches down instead,
         Removes my hat, and takes a hunk of my head!

         Sometimes I do sneak in for a break,
         To find out which muscles still don’t ache,
         Consume a gallon of water or two,
         And rest three hours so I can get through!

         Yes, I miss you guys, your smiles and all—
         I think of how you’ve grown big and tall!
         Seems like years since you’ve been gone,
         Especially when Dad has to mow the lawn.
        --Guess Who Richardson

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Jesse N Smith History

                                                       OUR  PIONEER  HERITAGE 

           In the fall of 1847 a group of Mormon pioneers entered the Wasatch Mountains near the Great Salt Lake. I, Jesse Nathaniel Smith, was a member of this company, twelve years old at the time of our arrival. Upon approaching the panorama of the Great Salt Lake, we gave gratitude to the Lord for having reached the Promised Valley.   

        I journeyed across the plains with my widowed Mother and older brother, Silas. My father and younger brother had died the year before from persecution and exposure, as suffered by the Saints. We traveled with my Uncle John Smith’s company. I was given the responsibility of teamster, a large undertaking for one so young. Our arrival in the Valley marked the end of a thousand mile trek by ox team and covered wagon. During the long journey I witnessed great examples of faith, courage and endurance, displayed by this sturdy band of pioneers who braved the desert wastes and Indian persecutions in that historic trek from Nauvoo, Illinois, to the Rocky Mountains. Certainly, this unceasing faith in God enabled these noble souls to complete this march under most unusual circumstances.   

I was born on December 2, 1834, at Stockholm, New York, to humble, upright parents, Silas and Mary Aikens Smith. My father was an uncle to the Prophet Joseph Smith. Because of my parents’ conversion to the Gospel, we did not remain long in the place of my birth.   

I spent years of my young life in Nauvoo. It was my privilege and blessing to know the Prophet and hear his glorious testimony. At the age of eight, I sat on his knee and received a Book of Mormon from him with an inscription in it. This I ever cherished.    

I was scarcely ten years of age when the Prophet and his brother, Hyrum, were martyred in Carthage. A vivid remembrance of this tragedy remained with me throughout my life. I could never forget the feeling of sorrow as I viewed the bodies of these great men of God, united in death as they had always been in life.            
Shortly after reaching the Valley, I witnessed the miracle of the gulls and the Providence of the Lord in sending the gulls from the lake to devour crop-destroying crickets, thus saving all from starvation.

In June, 1851, my brother and I and our families were sent by President Brigham Young to establish a home in Parowan, Iron County, and to help in settlement development. While living there I enjoyed taking part in civic affairs and politics, serving as County Clerk and Mayor, and in the Territorial Legislature. 

In 1859 I was called to the Scandinavian Mission. Reluctantly, I left my two young families, yet knowing that it was the Lord’s will, I was obedient to his call. After returning for a few years, I was called again, this time to serve as President of the Danish Mission. Hundreds of converts were desirous of immigrating to Zion. A company in which I was in charge, over one thousand souls came.     

In 1879, having been called by President John Taylor to serve as President of the Eastern Arizona Stake of Zion, I began a new journey to Snowflake, Arizona. My third wife, Janet, and five daughters accompanied me on this first trip to Snowflake. Though many hardships were endured, we prevailed to establish our home there. Later, other family members joined us. After the Eastern Arizona Stake was divided, I was called to serve as President of the Snowflake Stake, which calling lasted over thirty years.           

With a strong belief in the principle and divinity of plural marriage, revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith, I obediently chose five wives. These devoted wives, Emma, Margaret, Janet, Augusta and Emma Larson, and forty-four children, gave me great joy and strength. I have devoted my life to the up building of the Lord’s Kingdom, with a desire to be a blessing to my family and my fellowmen, thereby, bringing honor and glory to my Heavenly Father

Saturday, July 7, 2012

William Jordan Flake pictures

William Jordan Flake: 1839-1932

William Jordan Flake (grandfather of Bruce Flake)

Prudence Jane Kartchner Flake: 1850-1896 (wife of William Jordan Flake)

Lucy Hannah White Flake: 1842-1900 (wife of William Jordan Flake)

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Some random Jay M. Richardson pictures!

 Richardson Reunion for 50th anniversary:  July 2009
 Jay and Lavona Richardson: July 2009
 50th anniversary party:  July 2009
 Marriage day of Jay and Lavona Richardson:  December 1959
 Richardson Reunion: July 2011
Richardson Reunion:  July 2011
 Jay Richardson family:  1979
 Amy sealed to our family!  1979
 Jay and Lavona Richardson: unknown date
Jay and Lavona Richardson family:  December 1986

Tender Mercies to Hancock Family

by Joann Richardson Hancock

Two tender mercies from our trip: #1: Last Sunday Levi came home early from Sacrament Meeting sick. He proceeded to vomit all evening. We thought surely the illness would run through our family and ruin our trip. Levi was given a blessing, and we all took precautions, and Levi gradually got better and the rest of us remained healthy all week! #2: As we were driving in the middle of the night, the battery light on our van started to come on. Throughout the night, the battery light stayed on more and more frequently. In the early morning, when Derek was driving he noticed that our radio all of a sudden stopped working. I quickly woke up Robert and he hurried and searched on his I-phone for a nearby auto repair. We inched our way to an “auto repair” graveyard in Vienna, Georgia, with an auto supply store next store. We were able to purchase a new alternator, get it installed and were back on the road within 45 minutes! What a great blessing! (It could have been so much worse, stranded by the side of the road, having to get towed, waiting all day for parts to arrive, etc.) We said a prayer of heartfelt thanks!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

The Eagle


“The Eagle has landed!” came the proud celestial cry—
           Commander Neil Armstrong had shouted from the sky.

           His lunar landing module had touched down on the moon,
           And he was ready to step down, upon its surface.  And soon,

           We’d hear the thrilling words, so marvelous to the mind,
           “One small step for a man, a giant leap for mankind!”

           This astronaut was a great man, so courageous and strong,
           Respected by his peers—and now, by the TV throng;

           And history books recorded, where famous names are strewn,
           “Neil Armstrong, the first of men to walk upon the moon!”

           The spacecraft’s name? “The Eagle.” Another thing to tout:                   
           Commander Neal Armstrong--was an Eagle Scout!

           So—the Eagle now has landed, named for the king of birds,
           That’s strong and swift, courageous, loyal to offspring. These words

           Apply to other Eagles—Boy Scouts who’ve passed the test,
           Who’re strong, courageous and loyal—a cut above the rest!

           The Eagle now has landed, son, on you!
           Wear it proudly, young man—to your Scout Oath be true;

           And like that lunar lander, and the man who steered it there,
           Always be an Eagle, an honor distinct and rare.

           And in the years to come, son, let your Eagle experience shine,
           That this great step, for you, may be a giant leap for mankind!

                                                        --Jay M. Richardson