1931-1996 Richard Clair Hardy

Richard Clair Hardy was born August 25, 1931 and graduated from Las Vegas High in May, 1949.  He had graduated from Primary and received his Individual Priesthood Awards each year and was a Senior Scout and a member of the Air Squadron 104 in Las Vegas.

Richard's father died when Richard was only 11 years old and this had a lasting affect on him.  Uncles stepped in to do the things his father would have done and the extended family in Las Vegas was a great help to his mother in raising her three boys alone.

After high school he attended BYU for one year where he was very active in Brigadiers, a social unit.  He decided to join the Navy because he did not have enough money to continue in college and maintain the type of social life he enjoyed.  After two years in the Korean War he was able to come back to BYU under the GI bill and he again attended BYU.

However, in 1955 Richard was called to the Spanish American Mission and served in Texas for two and a half years.  His mother had never given up on her dream to see Richard on a mission.  She was an inspiring influence in his life. The last year of his mission he was the Branch President in Alice, Texas.  This was when Richard knew he loved planning, organizing and managing and he did it well.   He also became proficient in Spanish and learned to love the Spanish people.  It was always his desire to serve another mission, perhaps in Mexico or South America.

                                                   

Returning to BYU he now managed Brigadiers and had that great social life he wanted.  He graduated from BYU in 1959 in Accounting and Finance and joined the firm of Central Federal in San Diego that summer.  He married Janet Anderson, a kindergarten teacher,  on October 23,  1959 after a six week courtship.  They lived in east San Diego until Janet's last year of teaching was completed.

Moving to the Pacific Beach Ward area Richard became Elders Quorum President and then a Counselor in the Bishopric.  After that most of his service was as the Ward or Stake Executive Secretary or a counselor in the Bishopric until he was called to the High Council.  He did not enjoy this role as much as he liked to be “hands on” in serving the Lord.

After leaving Central Federal as an appraiser he worked for Mansfield Mills, an investment counsel firm, where he soon became their manager and learned how to do marketing through letters.  He loved this aspect of business.  Richard was an extremely hard worker and it was during this time that Richard had his first heart attack and “died on the surgery table”.  Thanks to prayers and blessings he survived but was told he needed to change his lifestyle.  When this business was sold and he had a non-compete agreement he learned the second trust deed business with Jones Mortgage.  Richard enjoyed this business very much and was able to bring his expertise of letter writing and advertisement to the business and soon became a partner.  It worked very well until the recession in the early 80’s .  Richard had established Help-U-Sell Real Estate to help manage foreclosures and it became a very frantic, desperate time and they needed to branch out into brokering of first mortgages as well.  This is when Janet came into the business to help.  Richard eventually formed his own business, Choice Mortgage, which he managed as well as Help-U-Sell Real Estate.

Richard and Janet were blessed with their first child Johnny ten months after marrying.  Janet had been able to complete one more year of teaching kindergarten and then became a full time mother and they bought their first home just before the second child Linda arrived.  Within four years Maria and James were also in the family   When the youngest was three they moved to La Jolla where they lived until the youngest James had completed his mission.  In 1988 they moved to Rancho Bernardo which was to be their retirement home.  Richard had a five way bypass surgery during this move and his final heart attack in 1996 when  Richard was age 65.  He never was able to retire.

Richard and Martin Hardy Families.

Family was extremely important to Richard.  He always wanted to attend the Hardy and Earl Reunions in Las Vegas and spent many a weekend in Las Vegas catching up on what was happening with the Scott Hardys after their father died.  He loved the summer trips with all the family to Big Bear Lake and the winter trips to Park City skiing.  He loved taking the children to the amusement parks and all the things he had missed as a child.  He always wanted all of his brothers’ families to be part of his life and started the Hardy Reunions at Torrey Pines Park.  He loved planning them and urging everyone to come.  His brother Martin fully supported him in his efforts.  He honored his parents, his brothers as well as the wives of he and his brothers with programs at these reunions.  He wanted all the grandchildren to know about their family.  He was tireless in these efforts.

You would not find Richard on the golf course or lounging around the house.  His only recreation was a few ski runs at Christmas with his grandchildren.  The rest of the time he was “at work” usually from 7 to 9 and sometimes longer.  His clients loved it because he would “drop-in” on the way home from work and apprise them of what was happening in the trust deed business and perhaps sell them a new investment.  He was always one on one with his clients and very close to them.  This was his  greatest expertise and would later be his downfall.  In the late 80’s he invited some friends to come in and speak to his clients about investments in the Bakersfield and Tulare area.  Many of his clients purchased these investments.  When the investment turned sour they urged Richard to take over and because he wanted to serve them, he took the project on.  It was too far away and a disaster from the beginning and although Richard ended up in saving most of his clients, his own financial resources became depleted and his business at home suffered.  It dragged on until after he passed away.  But as one of the escrow officers said, “If he had just had a little more time, it would have all been completed.”  It was an unfortunate ending to an otherwise exceptionally excellent business career.



In fact, Richard was really an extraordinary man because as busy as he was he was never too busy to give time to those in need. Over the years there was a trail of relatives and others less fortunate that Richard had either taken into his home or gone to them and helped with jobs, financing on cars, advise, or whatever was needed.  Janet once counted 29 people who had lived with them for over 3 months or more in a ten year period.  And this doesn’t include the countless others he has helped.  His friends and family knew to “just ask Richard”.  Janet often said no matter what time of day or night, no matter how tired Richard was, if Janet needed anything Richard always said, “No problem, I can take care of it.”  He was always ready to give of himself.  Expressions of love and appreciation after his death were “gentle, honest, kind, hard worker, always going beyond the call of duty”.  One man said he was a prince in this world and too good for it, the world could not be what he wanted it to be.

In 2011 Richard had a posterity of four children, 15 grandchildren, three son-in-laws, and four great-grandchildren.  His wife Janet lives in Lake Almanor, CA and his son John passed away in 2004 of a heart attack.

Dudley Leavitt Pictures

"Earl" Qualities

"Earl" Qualities, Characteristics and Traditions

by Wilma Adams & Barbara Earle

My mother (Lois Emily) remembers having two separate houses until her mother, Elethra Calista, died then Aunt Viola and her family all moved over to our house because it was the bigger of the two houses. The only time Aunt Viola said a cross word to her was after Bunkerville had had a small earthquake - which was very upsetting to all the small children. Later on when mother was washing dishes on a table she took her knee and wiggled the table. This reminded the little kids of the. earthquake and scared them, especially Aunt Winona. Aunt Viola scolded mother for scaring the children.

Elethra Calista had a pretty singing voice and she and Aunt Viola often sang duets together. Elethra singing soprano and Aunt Viola singing alto.

My mother believed in getting up and getting your work done and then you could go and play. She always gave me a list of jobs to complete and when I thought I was finished she would check off my list with me to be sure I had done a good job. Then I was through and could go play. I have done the same thing with my children and they are doing the same thing with their children. Mother often used lists for other things as well as jobs. If she was not going to be home for supper, I had a detailed list of what I was to prepare and set up for the evening meal.

SERVICE: This is a broad topic that includes going where the Lord calls you to go and talking the tasks that the Lord wants you to accomplish. Certainly evident in our ancestors as they left the Salt Lake City area and. moved to the "Big Muddy". Service also includes accepting and going on missions for the church. In generations that have followed the J. I. Earl family we can see that we have sent missionaries to every continent around the globe, all going willingly to serve the Lord and carry forth His message.

Service also includes being willing to work where the Lord needs you. My mother and father always had several church callings and were always busy keeping the kingdom rolling along. There is not a task that is too menial. It was not in their dispositions to question why a calling was given - just to get in and serve. And they were always rewarded with many blessings.

Service includes looking for ways to be of service. Taking a meal to someone in need without someone having to arrange it. Giving of their time and efforts without being recognized. Just being of service because it was the right thing to do.

INDUSTRIOUS AND HARDWORKING: I don't recall ever seeing my parents just sit and watch television. They always had something to do while they watched. And they did not watch much. They were not afraid of using a little elbow grease. They made rugs or quilts out of old materials. They did lots of canning to provide for the family and to not let anything go to waste.

THRIFTY: They made do or did without. Waste Not Want Not was almost second nature to them. My mother, Lois, sewed pieces of cloth together to make the various pieces for a quilt, which you can see when you look closely at any of her many quilts. She did not throw out much at all when she made something "new".

EDUCATION: Again both of my parents were always studying - usually the scriptures. Both boys and girls had to be well-educated and well-read, College was encouraged and almost everyone attended -. Lois taught classes at the Lion House in Salt Lake City for many years. Mother always told me she would feel sorry for me if I did not get good grades but I had better get an A in Deportment. My mother (Lois) often gave readings of stories in her younger years. Dramatic readings were also enjoyed. Music was always encouraged specially the pinao.

TEMPLE: Always #1 goal – to be worthy to attend and to attend as often as possible. Mother always had a temple apron she was working on so the visual was always there that it was very important to be worthy to get to the temple. My parents served in the Salt Lake Temple Presidency for may years.

HOSPITABLE: There was always room at the table for one more mouth. And often an extra one was added. BIG family meals were almost commonplace. Mother had a table that folded up to quite a small table which was pushed against the wall, took up very little space; but opened up to seat a lot of people. Visitors were always welcome and came often to stay with our family.

IMPORTANCE OF EACH SOUL: Children did not always follow the ways the parents thought they should go but they were still loved and accepted into the family. They were always encouraged to change their ways but still they were accepted for themselves. Today we see too many families disown a child that is not following the expected path. This was not the case with my parents. They encouraged you but also accepted you and above all loved you.

. .

1869-1928 Heber Herbert Hardy and Betsy Leavitt

 

Betsy and Heber
with Merlin (Richard's Dad), Dudley and Warren

Our Hardy Grandparents

 

Written for the Hardy Reunion on April 9, 1977 in Logandale, Nevada

Grandpa and Grandma Hardy were married in the St. George Temple on December 2, 1890.

They were the parents of nine children and forty-two grandchildren. Their little son, Gile Wilford, age two and a half years, died of typhoid and pheumonia. Their other children all grew to adulthood.

Our grandparents were great people and set good examples for us to follow. They taught their children well and were always interested in their grandchildren and wanted them to do the right things.


The Church was very important in their lives and they always tried to live its teachings. I didn't have the privilege of knowing Grandpa Hardy, but Grandma Hardy came to visit us quite often, and she told me many things about her life and family. She was always so proud and happy to hear of an accomplishment of one of her grandchildren. I'll always treasure the memories I have of her and the time that she spent visiting us in our home in Logandale.

It is very important that we should all try to honor their name and do the things that would make them proud and happy.

Author Unknown

Heber Merlin Hardy       19 Apr 1892-4 Oct 1924
Warren Decator Hardy   23 July 1894-8 May 1969
Dudley Leavitt Hardy      14 Jan 1897-  1 Sep 1938
Ethel Ramona Hardy        2 Feb 1899-26 Sep 1952
Tamsen Hardy                  10 May 1901- 4 Jun 1979
Emma Lorena Hardy        8 Feb 1904-11 Sep 1979

Gile Wilford Hardy            5 Feb 1906-25 Oct 1908
Rozella  (Rose)Hardy        9 May 1908- 1 Dec 1986
Grant Hardy                      21 Feb 1910-   6 Sep 1965

1852-1934 Joseph Ira Earl

Joseph Ira Earl & wives

My great grandfather Joseph Ira Earl was a polygamist. He had two wives, Elethra Calista (Kissie) Bunker and Agnes V iola Bunker. Calista and Viola were both daughters of Edward Bunker Sr., but from two pioneer polygamist wives. Calista was born of Emily Abbott and Viola of Mary McQuarrie, both spending much of their growing up years in Bunkerville, Nevada, at the time of the living of the United Order there.

In 1884, Prophet President John Taylor was in a meeting in St. George with church leaders. He was still encouraging and urging plural marriage with proper priesthhod recommends. Joseph had much to weigh, but most priesthood leaders he respected were living this holy law. Federal authorities in Nevada were not as critical as those in Utah. In a letter to his brother Frank, Joseph said "When I was impressed that the time had come for me to enter the practice of plural marriage, the first thing I did was to make it known to my wife Calista. She gave her consent without hesitation. I then asked the Lord to direct me to some woman that would make me a good companion and would be agreeable to my wife Calista. The three of us were recommended to the temple by the Bishop for this work. Our recommends were sent to President John Taylor, who gave his consent, he being the man who held the keys of the sealing power at that time."

On December 11, 1885, Calista accompanied Joseph to the St. George Temple to give him her sister, Agnes Viola, in marriage. (Daughter Lois:)"The three entered into this high order or marriage fully converted that it was a God-given principal, and determined to live it to the best of their ability. Mother had given me her personal testimony that is was a righteous law, but that to live by properly, one must cast selfishness and jealousy from the heart." Viola was 17 years of age and Joseph was 33. Calista and Joseph had been married 5 1/2 years.

Many years later daughter Amy said to Mother Viola, "Mother, now that I'm married, I just can't understand how you could live in polygamy." Viola replied "I was taught it like you were taught tithing. It was a part of the gospel, a part of the Church. It was a commandment of the Lord. I just looked around Bunkerville and I could see the different young men and I could see your father. He was a student of the scriptures, he took care of his mother and his sisters who hadn't married, and he was an honorable man, and an ambitious man, and I just felt like that, he had asked me to marry him, and I thought he was a marvelous man for his times, and that he believed in the kind of education for his children that I wanted."

Joseph continued in his 7 Mar 1921 letter to Frank, "Sometime after Viola and I were sealed, Calista told me that she had known for some time that I would marry Viola. I asked her how she knew it. She answered that the Lord had revealed to her that I me for Calista and her growing family and moved Viola right across the street into a 2 room adobe house.

Joseph and Viola had 10 children: Nettie May, Agnes Winona, Milton Sylvester, Marion Bradley, Mary Melba, Amy Viola, Zella Verona, Nellie Marie, Rulon Allen and Joseph Donal. 16 of these two families were raised to maturity. If you have trouble keeping track of which goes with which mother, you are not alone. Uncle Donal, who was raised with them said "I was 15 year old before I realized I technically had some half brothers and sisters." Many years later when cousin Ken Earl came home from the service to a large family gathering, he said "Can somebody help me figure out who are my whole aunts, and who are my half aunts?!" But nobody cared.

For 16 years, Calista and Viola helped with one another's families across the street from one another. According to Aunt Lois through Wilma, one of the reasons for their ideal relationship was Joseph's absolute fairness. He spent the evening with one family but went across the street to spend the night and the next morning with the other family. The next day he reversed the process. They always knew how they could plan. He was a wonderful provider and they always had what they needed, but the children all helped.

After Calista passed away, which was a very sorrowful time, Joseph and Viola held a family meeting, carefully asking for input from Calista's 3 older children. Everyone agreed that both families should be moved together to the large adobe house. Louis said, "If Aunt Viola had moved a rug or a chair or a picture, I would have rebelled. She ached for her mother. But Viola did not change a thing. She moved quietly to keep things going for both families. Louis and Elethra called her Aunt Viola, but Calista's other children caller her Mother or Mama. There were 15 total including two small babies in the house.

1845-1893 Caroline Lucy Blake

This is one of the sadder stories told of the polygamy years and some of it is rumor.  Does anyone have any recent information? 

                                                      written by Roberta Blake Barnum

Caroline Lucy Blake was born July 3, 1843, Blandford, Dorset, England, the 3rd child of Benjamin Frederick and Harriet Hollis Blake.  She was only 10 years old when her family emigrated from England out to Salt Lake city, Utah and was a young woman of 16 when her family was called to the "Dixie" Mission. 

Caroline's father was a furniture maker and they owned one of the finer homes in St. George, Utah.  Her future husband Warren Hardy worked for her father.  They married March 5, 1864 in Salt Lake City, Utah.  Warren and Caroline moved to St. George where Warren owned a farm down by the river.  They built a shack type house and started their life together.  I feel a little sad for Caroline as it didn't seem as if luxury or happiness was to be hers.  As her family grew, she continued living on in the shack by the river.

These were the polyygamy years so ten years later Warren took himself another wife (Sarah Hannah Smith Apr 26, 1875) and another one (Martha Aurelia Johnson Dec 18, 1879).  He seemed to prefer Sarah and built her a fine home in St. George.  He furnished a comfortable home for Aurelia also.

It was gossiped that as soon as Caroline's children were old enough to be weaned that Warren would take them to the second wife (Sarah) to raise, leaving Caroline free to do the cooking for his hired hands.  Her teenage sons (one was Richard Hardy's grandfather Heber Herbert) were permitted to live with her as they were needed to work the farm.  They hauled their water from the river and one day as Caroline was carrying some heavy buckets of water, one of the hired men by the name of Booth, just could not stand to see how hard she had to work and offered to carry the water.  He gave her many a hand after this and they became good friends.

Warren was real indignant upon learning of Mr. Booth's attention to his wife.  There was light thrown on the situation and some of the townsmen decided to tar and feather Mr. Booth and burn Caroline at the stake.  Upon learning of the coming events, Caroline's sons packed her belongings into a wagon.  They warned Mr. Booth and it was agreed that they would bring their mother to Middleton (four miles east of St. George) and he'd take her away.

Caroline had her two youngest children with her at this time.  The boys drove her into St. George to say goodby to her family.  They stopped at Blakes and it was a very sad occasion indeed.  One son stayed in the drivers seat so they could hurry if need be.  One son was on the ground by the wagon and he said, "Mother, you can't take the little ones because if you do they will never quit chasing you."  The boy grabbed the children from Caroline's arms and as he did she cried, "Oh, no, not my babies," and fainted dead away.  The other boy hurriedly hit the horses and drove away to save his mother.

Caroline never had the privilege of seeing her children and family again.  Mr. Booth took her into Idaho and it is believed that she had two more sons by him but until more research can be done it isn't known if there was a divorce from Mr. Hardy or a marriage to Mr. Booth.  One of her sons born in Idaho was called Lebby believed to be Celeb.  The family has not found out where they went but she died  Apr 4 1893.  (Recorded in her mother Harriet Holis journal).  It is believe that she was buried in the old Twin Falls Cemetery in Idaho just ten years after her exile from St. George.  She was a small amd petite person as were all the Blake girls.

I do not wish to make Mr. Hardy sound like a cad as we find many fine qualities about him and under such trying conditions, we find many were imposed upon without the other parties even being aware of it.

Warren Hardy was 12 years old when he came to Utah with his parents.  In Salt Lake City, he fell in love with pretty Caroline Lucy Blake.  He was 24 years old when he married her.  He went south in 1858.  Warren was trained in carpentry work, with a special skill for broom making, cabinet and furniture making.  The Warren Hardy house, water wheel and cabinet shop were located on East Main Street, on highway 91, St. George, Utah, near the present site of the Wittwer Motel.  In Warren's mill he made many kinds of furniture and ground both wheat for flour and salt rock into fine salt for people with his lathe and grinding stone.  This provided jobs for his sons both in his mill and on his farm by the river.

Warren was never very well after Caroline left and upon learning of her death, he died the same year, 8 months later Nov 22, 1893  in St. George Utah.

Caroline had light hair, blue eyes, weighed 100 lbs and was 5 ft. 2 inches tall.

1822-1901 Edward Bunker

EDWARD

BUNKER (1822-1901)

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I was born in the town of Atkinson, Penobscot County, State of Maine, August 1, 1822. My parents were Silas Bunker and Hannah Berry Bunker. I was the youngest of nine children, seven boys and two girls, whose names were as follows: Nahum who married Irene Thayer; Abigail, married Mr. Heath; Martin, married Mary Ann Gilpatrick; Alfred, who never married; Hannah, who married John Berry; Kendall, who married his cousin, Rachel Bunker; Silas died when 27 years old, unmarried; Sabin who married after I came west so I do not know who he married. When I was about sixteen years old, Father sold our home and moved to Charleston at which place we lived five years. During our stay there, Father deeded his farm and other property to my brother Silas on the condition that he take care of the old folks as long as they lived.

When I was nineteen years old I left home with the consent of my parents and brother Silas, to work for myself, as Silas owned the property, I felt I ought to have my time. After an absence of two or three months, Silas requested me to come back and live at home as he was lonely without me. He offered me a deed to one-half of the property if I would go back. I refused the offer, telling him it would be a good home for him and he could care for father and mother.

A spirit of unrest had taken possession of me and I longed to get away. The farm was a good one, consisting of 100 acres of land, good buildings, and a nice stock of cattle. Silas felt so lonely without me that he rented the farm and went to Trenton, a distance of sixty miles, to work for my brother Martin. After he got work, he wrote for me to come there, too. As work was plentiful and I could get a job, I went down. A few days after my arrival, Silas was taken sick with filious fever. I stayed with him until he died. Before his death, realizing his time had come and not wishing the property to go back into Father's hands as he was not capable of taking care of it, he wished to deed the property to Martin and myself for the benefit of Father and Mother.

So we had the deeds drawn up and he sat up in bed and signed them. After the death of Silas, Martin made me a proposition which was this: he would pay the funeral expenses and the doctor bills and deed me his share of the property if I would pay him $200 and take care of the old folks. Or he would pay me $200 and take care of the old folks if I would deed him my share of the property and pay Silas' funeral expenses. I accepted the latter offer, which astonished Martin very much. We returned to Charle- ston, where at my request, he gave Father and Mother a life lease and I deeded him my share of the property. After this was done I returned to Atkinson, bought a small farm of my Brother Kendall and took a notion to visit my brother Nahum living near Boston.

Accordingly, Brother Sabin took myself and a load of shingles to Bangor. I sold the shingles and worked my passage to Plymouth. I visited Nahum in Brantree and he proposed we visit Alfred, who was living in Hartford, Conn. This we did. Alfred wanted me to remain with him, as I could get plenty of work and good wages , so I spent the summer there.

In the fall, my brother-in-law, John Berry, came along and wanted me to go to Wis- consin with him to see the country. Alfred was away from home at the time, but I packed my trunk and left for the West without bidding him goodbye, and never saw him again. John Berry and I came to Cleveland, Ohio. The lakes froze over and we had to spend the winter there. I went to Kirtland to visit friends and see the temple. While there we met Martin Harris, who invited us to his house, where we went and heard him bear his testimony to the truth of the Book of Mormon.

I obtained work at Cleveland for eight dollars a month and board. John Berry left me and went to Pittsburg to obtain work and we agreed to meet in Wisconsin. While in Cleveland, Mr. Berry found the Book of Mormon, read it, and brought it to me to read, which I did. The man with whom I was living had the Voice of Warning, which I read also. I found a branch of the church there, attended the meetings, became convinced of the truth of Mormonism, and was baptized in the month of April, 1845. Then I knew why it was that I had been led from my father's house and left my dear old mother whom I loved dearly.

After the lakes were opened, I got higher wages, $16 a month at Akron where I worked one month. Then I went aboard a boat and landed at Chicago, then a small frontier town. From there I went to Rock River, Wisconsin, to meet my cousin Patience Millet, and friends from Maine. After the time was spent there, during which time I told them I was a Latter-Day Saint, they accused the Mormons of believing in polygamy. I told them it was only a slur and a false statement. At the end of my stay, I took the stage for Galena, ninety miles distant, and then went aboard a steamboat, went down the Mississippi River and arrived at Nauvoo in July 1845. I had a letter of recommendation to George A. Smith, who was in council with his brothers, but came out and spoke to me and asked me what I was going to do. I told him I did not know, but wished to do whatever was the best. He asked me if I had any money. I told him I had some. He advised me to hire my board and go to work on the temple, or Nauvoo House. So I hired my board and went to work on the temple. I paid my tithing from the day I was baptized every tenth day and the tenth of the worth of my clothes. After having paid my tithing, I went to work for the Nauvoo House, cutting hay for them on the prairie with two of the brethren. We camped where we worked until the mobs broke out and began to burn the farms and drive the Saints into Nauvoo. I joined the militia and went out as a guard to assist some of the Saints to move in. I was in the infantry company that went to war by order of the Sheriff of Bannock County to make arrests of those who had been burning and plundering the homes of the Saints.

The presiding priesthood compromised with the mob and agreed to leave Nauvoo. Then I crossed the river to Montrose and went to work for Peter Robinson, threshing grain and making flour barrels. While at Montrose, I became acquainted with Emily Abbott and we were married in Nauvoo by John Taylor, February 9 [19], 1846, just before Brother Taylor crossed the river to join the Saints at Sugar Creek.

After my marriage, not being plentifully supplied with this world's goods, I went down the Mississippi to Keokuk. There I obtained a job cutting cord wood at 50 cents per cord, boarded myself, camped in the timber, did my own cooking, and cut 15 cords of wood a week. I worked about three weeks and obtained enough money to buy a few of the necessities of life.

I returned home and Brother William Robinson offered to take myself and wife west on condition that I drive and care for the team and Emily assist with the cooking. We agreed to do this and journeyed westward with the main body of the Saints. When we got to Garden Grove, Mr. Robinson concluded he couldn't take us any farther, so we remained there. With the help of Brother Steward, a young man who had just married, I bought a log cabin of one room. We put a roof on it and chucked it, but it was minus doors, floors or windows. We moved our wives into it and I went to Missouri with the intention of earning money enough to buy a team and wagon. I was in company with two other brethren, and being unable to reach the nearest town, thirty miles distant, we camped the first night in the woods without blankets or fire. The mosquitoes were very bad. Arriving at my destination, I worked one week for corn and bacon.

At this time the report reached us that the United States government had called for a company of Saints to go to Mexico. I did not believe it but the spirit of the Lord directed me to go home. So the following Saturday, with the side of a bacon slung over my shoulder, I started for home, thirty miles distant. As I neared my destination, I met some brethren hunting stock and they confirmed the report I had heard concerning the call for a battalion to go to Mexico. They also told me that Brigham Young had written a letter to the Grove calling on all the single men and those that could be spared to come to Bluffs, 140 miles distant west, to assist the families and care for the teams of those who had joined the battalion, and they in turn could have use of their teams to bring their families to the Bluffs.

Next day being Sunday, I went to meeting and heard the letter read. Volunteers were called for and I was the first to offer my service. Eight others followed my example. They agreed to meet me at my house the following Tuesday morning at nine o'clock and we would start together for the Bluffs.

Tuesday morning came, but none of the men who had agreed to meet me put in an appearance, so, with my small bundle of clothes and provisions, I started alone on the journey of 140 miles, and only one settlement on the way. When within two days journey of the Bluffs, I overtook Mr. Robinson, who had left us at Garden Grove. He had lost a child and his teamster had deserted him, so he besought me to drive his team on to the Bluffs, which I did. When within ten miles of our journey's end, a messenger came into camp about midnight with the information that 16 men were wanted to complete the battalion. The camp was called up and not one volunteered until I broke the ice. Soon others followed and the required number made up.

The next morning we filed out of camp and went to Trading Point on the Missouri River, where the Battalion was camped for a few days. We took up our line of march for Fort Leavenworth where we received our arms and camp equipage. We had the privilege of drawing our clothes or the money in lieu thereof. Most of the Battalion men received the money and sent the greater portion of it back to our families. We moved out a short distance from Fort Leavenworth and went into camp waiting for Col. Allen, who was sick at the fort. On learning that Col. Allen was dead, Lieut. Smith was given command of the Battalion and he put on a forced march to Santa Fe.

Brother Tyler's History of the Battalion will give the details of the march better than I can. However, when we got to Santa Fe we drew all of our money and sent a portion of it back to our families. Col. Cooke was left at Santa Fe by order of General Kearney to take command of the Battalion and lead it to California. At Santa Fe I was detailed as assistant teamster to Hyrum Judd. By so doing I did not have to carry my gun and knapsack and was exempt from guard duty. One detachment of the Battalion consisting of the women and sick men were sent to Benton's Fort to winter and another de- tachment sent back after we left Santa Fe. As I did not keep a history of our journey, I will refer the reader to Tyler's History. I will add, however, that on the 27th of January we reached San Luis Mission where we remained a short time. Then we moved up to Los Angeles at which place we remained until we were discharged on the 16th day of July.

Having drawn our pay and procured an outfit, we prepared to return to our homes by way of Sutter's Fort and across the North Pass of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, the old Emigrant Trail. While crossing the mountains we met Capt. Brown and Sam Brannon from Salt Lake Valley. Brown to draw the pay for his company, and Brannon to meet the company of Saints who had gone to California by water.

The returning men of the Battalion divided into three squads on their return trip, and I was in company with Brothers Tyler, Hancock and others. We met Brown near where the company of emigrants, enroute to California, had perished the winter before, and saw the skeletons and bones of those unfortunate people lying on the ground unburied. Brown brought word from Brigham Young that those of the Battalion who had not provisions to last them into Salt Lake Valley had better remain in California during the winter. Some of the brethren turned back and a few others continued eastward. I was in the latter number and we arrived in Salt Lake Valley on the 16th of October, 1847. After resting awhile, we proceeded on our journey towards the Missouri.

When I left the valley, I had sixteen pounds of flour to take me a thousand miles and three mules which I took from California to Council Bluffs. On our journey we bought some buffalo meat from the Indians and killed a few of these animals ourselves. On arriving at Loop Fork on the Platte River, we camped for the night and tried to ford the river, but the ice was running so thick that our mules would not try to cross, so we put up for the night. The next morning found us in as cold a northeaster snowstorm as I had ever experienced in the state of Maine.

We stayed in camp all day and ate the last bit of provision we had, even a pair of raw hide saddle bags which I had brought from California on a wild mule. The next morning there was about ten inches of snow on the ground and we started down the river hoping to find missionaries at the Pawnee Mission. That day we killed some prairie chickens which was all we had. Next day we came opposite the mission houses which were across the river from us. Some of the boys commenced to build a raft when, on looking down the river, we saw Robert Harris crossing the ice by means of a long pole. We abandoned our raft and followed his example and crossed the river on the ice. We found the mission deserted and the corn all gathered, but we went into the fields and with our feet gathered a few ears of frost-bitten corn which the Indians had left, and which we ate raw. We went into the houses and stayed all night without bedding. One of the boys brought a frying pan and the corn we didn't eat raw, we parched and ate all we wanted and took the rest to camp with us.

On reaching camp the next morning, we found that one of our mules had gotten into the water and was so badly chilled that he had to be killed, and we ate all the meat ex- cept the lights. Those I tried eating, but they were so much like Indian rubber that I gave up the attempt.

After getting all the company across the ice, we went to the Mission homes and stayed all day. Having obtained a little good corn from the Indians, we took up our line of march for Council Bluffs, 140 mile distant, with the snow from 8 to 10 inches deep. We arrived in Winter Quarters on the 18th of December, 1847, having been gone 18 months. Three days later the Missouri River froze over sufficiently hard to be crossed by the teams and wagons. On reaching Winter Quarters I spent the night with one of my companions thinking my wife was still in Garden Grove where I had left her. Next morning I went to find Bro. Brown's family and they told me my wife was living a short distance from them. This was good news, I assure you, and I lost no time in seeking out Emily and her mother, Abigail Abbott, who was a widow with eight children. Emily, be- ing the eldest, had been able to move to Winter Quarters with the assistance of William Robinson.

It may be out of place to enumerate the articles I had for a winter campaign: one pair of white cotton pants, a white cotton jacket, an old vest, a miltary overcoat, which I bought from one of the dragoons, a pair of garments, and a shirt; the latter articles were made from an old wagon cover by Sedric Judd, the tailor of our mess.

I found my wife in quite poor circumstances, but with a fine boy eleven months old, my eldest son, Edward, who, at this writing, is bishop of Bunkerville. After resting a few weeks, I got wagons and a harness, hitched up my mules and went to Missouri to work for provisions. I found employment splitting rails for fencing. I earned a fat hog and some corn and returned home. We moved across the river to Mesquite Creek. Sister Abbott moved with us. She had two small boys and we put in crops of corn together. The next spring Mother Abbott emigrated to Salt Lake City. I assisted her to a yoke of oxen and the following year received from James Brown, the money for the same. With this I bought cattle to assist me to emigrate next season. I also received three months extra pay from the government and a land warrant which I sold for $150. The emigration to California began next year and corn brought from 25 cents to $1.50 per bushel. I had raised a good crop and this assisted me very much to obtain my outfit.

In the spring of 1850, I started to Salt Lake Valley in Captain Johnson's hundred and Matthew Caldwell's fifty, and I was captain of a ten. We followed up the route of the California emigrants on the south side of the Platte River. Nothing of importance happened until we came in the cholera district where the emigrants had died in great numbers and were buried by the roadside. We found one man unburied lying in the brush. He was given a burial by our company. Our camp was stricken and 18 out of our hundred died from the effects of the cholera. My wife and daughter, Emily, who had been born to us the first of March, 1849, on Mesquite Creek, Iowa, were taken very sick, but through the powers of faith and good nursing they soon recovered. At the end of three months we reached Salt Lake Valley, our haven of rest, September 1, 1850. I settled in Ogden City, took up a farm about a mile from the city on what was then known as Canfield Creek. I built a house of three log rooms and fenced my farm the first year.

William Lang owned a farm adjoining mine, also James Brown. William Lang died soon after I came there and I married his widow, whose maiden name was Sarah A. Browning, June, 1852. She had two girls by her first husband. President Young and Heber C. Kimball came to Ogden in 1851 and organized the stake with Lorin Farr as president and James Brown and William Palmer as councilors. I was chosen a member of the High Council and ordained by Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball set me apart for that calling. I was also a member of the first council of Ogden City.

In the fall of 1852, I was called to go on a mission to England. There were some sev- enty elders called at that time. We started on our missions immediately after the Octo- ber semi-annual conference and took with us the first publication of the revelation on celestial marriage which was sent to the nations of the earth. After landing in Liverpool we reported ourselves to the presidency of the mission in Liverpool at the office of the Mellenial Star. I was appointed to preside over the Bristol conference in the place of George Halliday who was released to emigrate. I presided there about three months, then I was called to care for Mr. Clayton's field of labor, he being sent home. That field included Sheffield, Bradford, and Lincolnshire conferences. I labored there two years, then was released to preside in Scotland which included the conferences of Dundee, Glasgow and Edinburgh. I labored there one year then was released to come home. There were about five hundred emigrants, all Saints, and some returning elders on board ship and presided over by Daniel Tyler.

The voyage was pleasant with the exception of one storm during which one sailor was drowned. We landed in New York, at Castle Garden, thence by rail to St. Louis, then by steamboat up the Mississippi River to Iowa City, which place we reached in the month of June, 1856.

Here the company was fitted out with hand carts. I was given charge of a Welch company and left Iowa City, June 28, 1856. We procured our provisions and teams to haul our supplies at Council Bluffs. After leaving Iowa City, we encountered some heavy rain and windstorms which blew down our tents and washed away our hand- carts. I got a heavy drenching which brought on a spell of rheumatism that confined me to my bed a portion of the journey.

I had for my councilors Brothers Grant, a Scotchman, and tailor by trade, and Mac- Donald, a cabinet maker, neither of whom had much experience in handling teams. Both were returned missionaries. The Welsh people had had no experience and very few of them could speak English. This made my burden very heavy. I had the mule team to drive and had to instruct the teamsters about yoking the oxen.

The journey from the Missouri River to Salt Lake City was accomplished in 65 days. We were short of provisions all the way and would have suffered for food had not supplies reached us from the valley. However, we arrived safely in Salt Lake City, October 2, 1856. Other companies that started in the latter part of the season were caught in the snow storms and suffered severely from cold and hunger and many of them perished. When I arrived home my health was very poor, having suffered a great deal while in England from the cold damp climate.

I found my family in poor circumstances, having lost about forty head of cattle during the winter. The winter before I arrived they had also passed through what was called the "Grasshopper War". Soon after my arrival I was made Bishop of the Second Ward in Ogden and labored in that capacity until I moved to Dixie. Some time later I was in Big Cottonwood Canyon celebrating the 24th of July, 1857, when word came that Johnson's army was coming to exterminate the Mormons.

We all returned to our homes and prepared for the worst. The militia was called out and sent into Echo Canyon and Johnson's Army was obligated to winter on Ham's Fork. In the spring of '58 we moved as far south as Payson where we remained all summer. During this time Governor Cummings and Col. Kane came directly from Washington D.C. Everything was peaceable and in the fall we returned to our homes.

In the fall of '59, our daughter Emily, then ten years old, was sick with bilious fever and tape worm, near unto death. Lost her speech and memory and was as helpless as an infant. Her mother weaned the baby and gave Emily the breast and that was all the nourishment she took for two months. She was healed thru the ordinances of the church by the power of God, as one raised from the dead. All her faculties returned and she is now living and the mother of four boys.

In April of 1861, I married Mary McQuarrie, and the following November with my wives, Emily and Mary, moved to Dixie and spent the first year in Toquerville. My wife Sarah remained in Ogden and the next fall I went for her.

In the fall of '62 I was called to preside at the Santa Clara. At this time we endured many privations and hardships on account of dry seasons and loss of crops. I was obliged to haul my breadstuffs from the north for several years. At one time grain was so scarce that flour was worth $10 per cwt. and had it not been for the liberality of our brethren in the north, our southern settlement would have suffered severely. Before flour reached us, my family was reduced to bran bread and glad to get that.

I also assisted to establish a settlement in Clover Valley and moved part of my family there. Salter and I bought a place in Panguitch and were among the first settlers after the town was established. Moved part of my family and two of my sons also settled there. I presided at the Santa Clara for about twelve years, then resigned on account of poor health, not having sufficient resources to keep my family together. Marius Ensign, my first councilor, was appointed my successor.

During my later administration as Bishop, President Brigham Young introduced the United Order in the Dixie Mission. This we all joined. I put in all I possessed, the labor of myself, two teams, and two boys. I had a nice crop of grain growing, said by the ap- praisors to be the best in the field. I worked until the Order broke up, which it did just one year from the date of commencement, January 1. At the division in our town, my teams and wagons were returned to me, but I wasn't given a pound of hay, grain, or cotton, with twenty in my family. Be assured this was a dark day for myself and family, but we said in our hearts, "The Lord knows we obeyed that principle with a pure motive and He will not let us suffer." I took my boys and teams and went into the mountains and cut and hauled wood to St. George for the temple and for individuals, and in this way obtained flour and factory pay to sustain my family until another harvest.

The next year I raised enough to support my family and pay off a $150 cash debt. So you see the Lord abundantly blessed us for our integrity. Having seen by the spirit of the Lord the necessity and blessings of the United Order, I labored for two or three years with my family and neighbors and friends, and counciled with President Brigham Young previous to making a settlement on the Rio Virgin, fifty miles south of St. George. President Young told me I could go any place in the south, but said repeatedly not to go north. So, having gathered a sufficient number, including Dudley and Lemuel Leavitt and families, J. [G.] W. Lee, S.C. Crosby, E. Bunker, Jr., and families, others joined us later on, we were organized as a company the first of January, 1877, at Santa Clara.

We left there soon after and reached what was then known as Mesquite, but that was afterwards named Bunkerville. We began work the eighth of January, myself presiding over the company, and later was ordained Bishop with E. Bunker, Jr. as my first and Myron Abbott as my second councilors.

We labored there in the order three years. At the end of that time, we attempted to or- ganize into stewardships, and the result was that we broke up. The brethren did not understand the principle sufficient to accept of it. Previous to this, we had labored in one company. Our labors, however, were very highly crowned with success. In settling up we paid off the capital stock dollar for dollar, fed and clothed the company and paid 18 per cent on every man's labor. We made a valuation of our improvements, divided them up and they went to pay our indebtedness. Our land was covered with a heavy growth of mesquite trees that had to be grubbed off. Then every acre had to be leveled with a scraper before it was to be irrigated. This made our work very laborious for ourselves and teams. But when the land was brought under cultivation, it was very productive.

My health was very poor so I thought a trip to Arizona would be beneficial, and with the consent of the President of the Stake and President John Taylor, I started south on April 4, 1882. We reached Mesa City the 25th of the same month at which place we spent the summer. The Apache Indians were on the war path and it was unsafe to travel further south. After spending a pleasant summer, in the fall, I went to San Pedro and stayed a few months, then pushed on to Sulphur Spring Valley where I had rela- tives. I will also state I took my wife Emily with me and sons Silas and George, and daughter Louella. Our outfit consisted of two teams, two wagons and a tent.

We remained in Sulphur Springs several months and regained our health and visited friends. While at Mesa in company with a few of the brethren, I went into Old Mexico as far south as the San Bernardino ranch. Having been gone nearly two years, we de- cided to return home, which we did, arriving here December 26, 1883.

While I was absent the settlement of Bunkerville experienced a very heavy flood which nearly broke up the town, but thru the perseverance and integrity of the people, they were able to repair the damages and save the place from abandonment. From that time on the town has grown and flourished. The Lord has blessed the people and now they are beginning to reap the reward of their labors.

In conclusion I would say that now at the age of 72 I am resting from my labors and am associated with a goodly portion of my family, having in all three wives, 28 children, seventeen boys and eleven girls. Three girls and two boys have died. I also have sev- enty grandchildren, sixty-one of whom are living and two great grandchildren.

An Article Written about Edward Bunker, Jr.

 “The Financier and Bishop Bunker”

William Harley, New Era, Nov 1976

“Remember, just five minutes,” warned the attendant as he ushered Salt Lake businessman Nephi L. Morris into the plush Chicago office of important financier Thomas N. McCauley. Handing the tycoon the caller’s business card, the attendant posted himself by the door to be sure the five-minute limit would not be exceeded.
 

“From Salt Lake City I see,” remarked the busy executive. “Sit down Mr. Morris. Because you are a Utahn, I want to tell you about an experience I had years ago out in your part of the world.” Not waiting to find out Brother Morris’s business reason for the visit, Mr. McCauley disregarded his own tight business schedule—and his upset attendant—and for a full hour related to his visitor a singular experience cherished in his memory.

Mr. McCauley explained that while still a young man he had amassed a fortune in the East before the turn of the century. But the strain of business finally broke him physically. His doctor warned that the only hope for recovery was for the young executive to spend six months to a year in the West, living in the open. Reluctantly accepting this advice, Mr. McCauley turned his extensive business affairs over to associates and went west, accompanied by the doctor.
 



For months the two men camped in a covered wagon while leisurely traveling about the Rocky Mountain regions. Then, when recovery seemed near, McCauley suddenly developed a fever of 102 degrees and severe chills. The doctor, fearing for his patient’s life, hurried the wagon to the nearest settlement: Bunkerville, Nevada, a small Mormon settlement near the southwest corner of Utah. Having a deep dislike for Mormons, the doctor nevertheless swallowed his pride and appealed for help at the home of a local farmer, Edward Bunker, Jr., who turned out to be the town’s bishop and the son of the man for whom Bunkerville was named.

Bishop Bunker

The strangers had not known that this man’s home often served as a hospital or hotel for people passing through those barren regions. While bishop from 1883 to 1908, Brother Bunker served as the local doctor, setting about 40 broken limbs, amputating fingers, lancing sores, and once even successfully sewing on a boy’s foot that had been amputated by a mowing machine. According to local tradition, the Bunker family rarely dined alone because of the good bishop’s hospitality. Travelers could stay at the Bunker home as long as they wanted, said the Bunker rule, but they would be treated like one of the family and could not disrupt the normal family life.

The Easterners were quickly made welcome and were promised every accommodation within the tiny community’s power to give. Their wagon and team were cared for. Food was provided. Bedding and supplies materialized, and the Bunker parlor was converted into a makeshift hospital ward.

Day after day the doctor and the Bunkers carefully nursed the critically ill patient. Weeks passed and McCauley made only slow progress. The doctor spent his time with the sick man or off by himself. While confined helplessly to his bed, however, the young man was in a unique position to witness the everyday activities of this humble Latter-day Saint family.

At times the parlor door was left ajar, and McCauley could look into the next room where, after a day of hard farm toil, the family blessed and then ate their evening meal. Many times at nightfall McCauley observed them kneeling in family prayer, the bishop himself often praying aloud.

At last the patient’s condition improved enough for the doctor to allow him to resume the journey. On the morning of the doctor and McCauley’s departure, the Bunker family arose early as usual. Unknowingly they had awakened their guests, who could not help but overhear the special family prayer offered in their behalf. The family gathered in the dining room where the sturdy bishop, kneeling beside his children and as humble as they were, reverently poured out his soul in supplication. Among other things he fervently thanked God for blessing their guest with a great recovery of health, and he invoked a special blessing for a full and complete healing.

During the prayer McCauley noticed his doctor friend slip quietly from the parlor with tears on his cheeks. McCauley, recognizing the faith being exercised in his behalf, could barely suppress his own tears as a deep feeling of gratitude welled up in his heart. As he confessed while telling the story to Brother Morris years later, “I have never heard such a prayer in all my life.”

Arising from prayer the family went about their daily chores while Bishop Bunker came into the parlor to say goodbye to his guests. Shaking hands with McCauley, he expressed to the Easterner his great pleasure at “having been favored with the privilege of rendering an act of kindness,” then wished him and the doctor a pleasant journey.

“I am greatly indebted to you, Bishop Bunker,” said McCauley, “and I desire to properly compensate you for your merciful kindness and care of me, which is responsible for saving my life. I am a man of ample means and to reward you generously would be a great pleasure to me.”

Knowing the Bunkers’ existence was hard and that they lacked many material things, he was amazed when the bishop kindly refused the offer. “No,” said the Mormon, “I can’t accept anything from you. I have only done what any man should do for his brother.”

“But I must do something to compensate you for what you bestowed upon me. I cannot let you go uncompensated. Please tell me what I can do for you in money or otherwise.”

To this earnest request the hospitable bishop replied: “I am already amply repaid for my helpfulness to you. The only way you can pay me is by doing for some other person who stands in like need of help as I have cheerfully done for you.”

And that closed the transaction as far as Bishop Bunker was concerned.

But McCauley never forgot the debt he felt he owed, and in following years he repaid it—mainly by helping Latter-day Saints. When donations were sought to build a monument in Utah to Brigham Young, McCauley’s name headed the donors’ list with a $1,000 contribution. During Utah Senator Reed Smoot’s membership trial in the United States Senate, the influential financier personally lobbied with Vice-president William Howard Taft in defense of the Mormons. He offered financial opportunities to various Utah and Church leaders. When two prominent Mormons suffered financial reverses during the panic of 1907, McCauley gave them back their notes and canceled their loan obligations to him.

And whenever opportunities presented themselves, even if it meant turning a five-minute appointment into an hour’s discussion, the financier felt an obligation to tell Utahns like Brother Morris about his struggle with death in the Nevada wastelands where a Mormon bishop, whom he had not seen before or since, had exercised faith in God to help a stranger recover. That was something, McCauley explained, which all his own wealth and power could not accomplish.

The story so impressed Brother Morris that he immediately noted it down. Twenty years later, in 1943, he wrote to Bishop Bunker’s descendants and shared the story with them, for whom it now is a source of family pride and inspiration.