written by Ellen Clark Mangum *
I was born on September 21, 1879 to Benjamin Thomas Clark and Mary Ellen Bullard. When I was three years old, my parents were called with a company to settle Rabbit Valley, Wayne County, Utah. They left Pine Valley, Washington County, Utah about 12 October 1881 and arrived in Rabbit Valley around the first of November. They settled on Pine Creek. My father took a homestead of farming group and my grandfather took a homesteaded a quarter section of lowland or pasture. Then they traded 80 acres each so that they both had a farm and a pasture. I grew rapidly on the old Pine Creek farm and have many childhood memories. In the summer of 1889 there was a cold burst up Sheep Canyon. The water washed big rocks, trees, and dirt down onto the farms. The grain was all in head. The storm did a great deal of damage to most of the settlers, however, we weren't as badly hurt as many others. The water ran into our house. We all ran up onto the hill until the flood was over.
When my brother was 4 and I was 6, our Father gave us a two-year old mare and a new red saddle if we would call him “Father” instead of Dad. My Mother taught me to read and spell. When I was 7, I with five other children, walked about two and a half miles through the meadows to school. We crossed the river on two logs.
Finally came the memorable time when I could be baptized. We went to the Fremont River in Thurber Ward, and Brother Christian Johnson baptized me. I was confirmed the same day by my Bishop, William G. Meeks.
I was the secretary in Primary when I was ten years old under Sister Betsy Evadovern (possibly not spelled correctly), President of Thurber Primary.
When I wasn't going to school, I spent a great deal of my time in helping my Father in milking cows, harrowing and other chores around the farm. The year that I was ten, I stayed in town with Sister Goodman and went to school one winter. The next year, Father bought a house in town where we lived during the school year.
My Father was Superintendent of the Sunday School. He asked our school teacher to teach the Primary class. She said, “Let me choose two girls and I will help them to be teachers.” I was one of the girls chosen. The other girl helped that winter then she moved away and I carried on the class alone. I was thirteen at that time.
At the age of fourteen (1893) my Father died leaving my Mother with seven children. I was the oldest and we had to do all kinds of work. WE were very poor and had a hard time. Sometimes we went hungry. I have had my prayers answered many times. We had to give half of the crop to get someone to run the farm, and we had a hard time making ends meet. I remember one time we had lived on potatoes and milk for a long time. We had no bread. We children were playing in a dry creek bed and found a part of a sack of wheat. We happily dragged it home. Mother ground it in an old coffee mill and made some bread. It really tasted good. We were so hungry for bread.
At the age of sixteen I was set apart as counselor in Mutual. I held both this and my teaching position and did the best I could with both until the fall of 1898 when there was a Branch organized on Pine Creek. There I was put in as President of the Primary.
In 1894 I met my future husband. We met at an Indian Powwow—The occasion being a marriage between two tribes. The Indians danced, gambled and celebrated for two weeks. The celebration was held two miles west of town and all the young people in the neighborhood joined the Indians in the dancing. They put a pole into the ground and danced around it. We soon learned to dance and sing with the Indians and really had fun. Albert took me home that first night, and we went to school together that winter. We soon became good friends. We rode horses, read books, and spent many happy hours together for the next three years of our courtship.
On August 4, 1897 in Thurber, Utah, I married the best man on earth then. We spent the first two months visiting with his mother in Losos (?) Valley. We visited with his relatives in all the little towns down through Southern Utah clear down to Pahreah where Albert was born. We named him Albert Lennard.
We were very happy for the next two years then on June 23, 1900 we left the old home on Pine Creek and moved to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We had a long tiresome journey with many interesting experiences. We had three horses, a new Spring Stand Box Wagon. Everything else we owned we put in the wagon. Albert put an extension on the sides of the box and made a bed crossways of the wagon. He put my little rocker on the side. He tore the other chairs down and put them under the bed. But we were happy and we managed. We moved with a team and wagon in company with several relatives. When we reached Driggs, Idaho, we were out of butter. We went on into the next town of Victor, and there we could have bought butter for 10 cents a pound.
We got into Jackson Hole July 16th. It snowed 6 inches that night. We would have left that night but the horses were poor and we were broke. We took up a homestead on the flat about 7 miles north of Wilson on the west side of Snake River.
Our first home was a little one-room log cabin. We had a sugar sack for a window and a made a door from the boards we had used for a bed in the wagon bed. We split small logs and chinked the cracks. We then dabbed them full of mud. We wet the dirt and tromped it hard and smooth for the floor. We then put wild grass evenly over the dirt and covered it with the canvass wagon cover. This completed our homemade carpet. But we were happy and united in love.
On 22 October 1900 our second boy, Arthur Benjamin was born. The following spring Albert went to work for Mr. Blodget. In November he went to the sawmill and got lumber and made a board floor and matched a lumber door and added a glass window to our little house.
In the summer of 1902 Albert's sister, Sarah Francis, came to Jackson Valley to visit her mother and brothers. The very night that she arrived her children became ill with diphtheria. I had had the disease when I was a child so I took my children and went home. I tried to get my sister-in-law to let me take her children, but she refused so I took my children and went home. Her brother, Robert's, babies, (Myrtle Ann Mangum and Jessie Ray Mangum) soon took the dreaded disease and both of them died. Albert quit and we did what we could for both of them without going into the sick house. Uncle Nick Wilson the store keeper in Wilson doctored them the best he could, but the disease spread and in September 1902, our little Arthur took it and in two days, September 6, he passed away.
We were afraid that Lennard would take the disease so we took him over to his grandmothers. We were all alone when our baby passed away. We had a neighbor go to Wilson to get the clothes and a casket. They brought them back to about a quarter of a mile from the house. Albert got the casket and we dressed our baby and prepared him to be laid away. We took him up on the hill north of our place. We buried him alone, and as soon as we could compose ourselves, we knelt hand-in-hand and dedicated the grave. It was the hardest thing that we ever did, but I know the Lord was with us and gave us strength and courage.
On December 16, 1902 our third son, Ray Ellis Mangum was born. He helped to heal our broken hearts and brought joy to our lonely house. In the fall of 1903 I took our two little sons and went back to Utah and spent the winter with my mother and the family. I had a lovely winter visiting with old friends and relatives. My husband, his brother Carrol and George Ross herded sheep on the Red Desert in Wyoming that winter. We all met in Odgen, Utah May 1, 1903. George and Carrol went back to Jackson while Albert and I with my mother and two sisters and two brothers remained in Odgen for a short time, while Lennie was doctored for a nerve ailment. We arrived home about June (6 or 16). Then Albert, Carrol, George and my brother, Tom went to Montana to work that summer. My two sisters, Orpha and Lizzie, went to work in Wilson. Just two weeks later Lizzie took sick and died very suddenly. Mother and I were on the ranch seven miles away, and didn't even know that she was ill until after she was gone. We laid her to rest near our baby on the hill north of the ranch. More sadness came to our family when our little Ernest died 6 November 1915 when he was two weeks old. And it was surely a blow when our oldest son was taken when he was 24 years old.
(1904) That was a long, lonesome summer. The men didn't return until November. One of Albert's team of horses got lame and he traded it for a cow and a calf, and led them all the way from Monida, Montana to Jackson Valley. That was our first cow and we enjoyed her. The winter of 1904 and 5 we lived in Wilson and sent the children to school. The next spring we rented Mr. Anderson's farm and raised a good garden as well as hay and grain. We used his horses and ours and plowed 20 acres on our own place. Then we moved back to our farm. It was there that nine of our eleven children were born.
On July 6, 1907 my husband came into the house and suggested that we have an early dinner, and drive over to Seatons and get the little pigs that we had bought. We hitched the two mares to the new spring wagon. It had had two inch wheels with springs under the box on the bolster and a high spring seat. We set up in the air so high that I was always afraid to ride in it. We had to cross Lake Creek—the water was high—Old Bess took us well into the Creek then set down on her tail and refused to go any further. The water was way up on the side of the box, and there we set. Neither of us could swim a stroke. My husband thought that if he jumped out beside the mare maybe he could get her up and going again. He jumped out—but his weight was what kept the wagon box balanced. As he jumped the box tipped throwing me and the four little children, (Lennard, Ray, Pearl and Hazel), into the water.
I had the two little girls in my arms, but the boys went floating down the creek ahead of me. I landed close to Albert. He hooked his fingers under my belt and took me downstream several rods until we came close to the bank. He gave me a push and said, “Catch those willows. I will try to get the boys!” I caught a little twig and hung tight. I couldn't pull myself closer to the bank and held on to my bbies. All I could do was hold on and swing with the current and pray. It seemed hours that I floated there, not knowing whether the rest of my family was alive or not. Finally, Lennie came running up the bank calling for his father to come get Mama out! Daddy had caught Lennie and pushed him to the bank where he pulled himself out. But it had taken several more lunges before he could catch Ray, who was floating down the stream. When he finally got him out he was badly strangled and his father was working with him. He came and took the babies and helped me out. When the box tipped, the team had turned around and gone with the front end of the wagon. We were close to John Powell's place so we walked down there. We were pretty badly shaken up though. We were very relieved and happy to be alive. Ray was so weak that his Daddy had to carry him. We got dried out and our nerves partly settled then Mr. Powell took us home. When the water had gone down that fall, we got the rest of our wagon out of the creek and finally got it together again. We then traded it for our first park rig, which always seemed safer to me.
In 1909 we succeeded in getting the contract to carry mail from Teton to Wilson twice a week. We carried the mail for ten years. The check for that covered the expenses in getting started on the farm. I would drive the mail route during the summer while my husband worked on the farm. We had many experiences during those years which were outstanding. On one wintery mail day, my husband was sick so I got Bill Scott to go to the Teton office and get the mail and bring it to our place, and I would take it on. I started out, but it was storming hard, and I missed the road. I wandered off through the Willows brush on the school section. The team floundered in the deep snow until the mare gave out. I unhitched Duke and broke a trail for the mare then I would go back and hitch Duke back on to the sleigh and go as far as the trail was broken, then the mare would lay down again. I worked that way for a long time. It was snowing hard and I couldn't see in any direction. Finally it cleared a little and I saw a lttle house on the Evert place. Then I knew where I was. The road went past that house and I wasn't far from the road, and I soon had the team back on to it. I drove to Mr. Spaldings' home. I stopped and asked him if I could borrow a horse to take the mail on in to Wilson. He had me go into the house and warm up while he put my team into the barn and hitched his team on to my sleigh. He had me hang my wet coat and overshoes by his stove and gave me a large bowl of stewed elk and dumplings. It tasted so good. He gave me dry overshoes and a warm coat. I took the mail on to town. It was dark when I got back to Mr. Spaldings where he changed teams again while I got my own coat and overshoes. The team followed the road all right until we got out of the willows and then I saw several lights. My husband and the neighbors were out looking for me. It was 11:00 p.m. When I finally reached home.
We rented Mr. Hanson's place for two years and farmed it with our own. Our cattle increased and we bought some more. We were doing fine. And then, in 1913 Lennard had a severe heart attack and was never well again. In 1914 we bought the Hanson place. In the fall of 1915 our boys worked at the sawmill and got some lumber. The following spring we built a new house—a bit two story building. That fall they worked at the sawmill with Br. Hanson, and we built a big barn, a large corral and some sheds. Albert sold part of the cattle that fall and bought some sheep.
In August 1919 Lennie had another bad heart attack and was very sick for three years. On 5 November 1922, he passed away. He had suffered so much that I couldn't be sure that he wasn't still suffering. In February 1923 we were privileged to go on the Bishopric's Temple excursion to the Logan Temple. We spent a week in the Temple and enjoyed it so much. I had prayed so hard to know that our boy was no longer suffering. One day in the Temple I saw him. He looked so natural and happy as he always did before then I knew he was happy. My prayers had been answered.
Church callings in Wilson – I was a Sunday School teacher in Wilson, Wyoming, A Primary President. In 1920 I was chosen Relief Society President for 3 years which labors I enjoyed very much. Then our branch was moved to and joined with Jackson Ward.
The following August my husband was operated on for appendicitis in the Jackson Hospital. In the fall of 1924 he underwent an operation for gall stones in the L.D.S. Hospital in Logan. He developed infection in one kidney and was in the hospital for thee months, and eight days. He was very sick and not expected to live for very long. I stayed at the hospital with him. I payed my bill at the hospital as usual one Saturday and found that I was almost out of money. I had less than one dollar in the bank, and I had 47 cents in my purse. I didn't know what to do. I lived on one meal a day usually two doughnuts and a glass of milk for 10 cents. I got up early one morning and walked around the Temple. I dropped on my knees by the north gate and said, “Please Father help me. I am out of money and I don't know what to do.” I went back to the hospital. Just as I went into the door, the thought came to me. “Write to Mr. Hanson.” I went to our room, got my writing material and went on to the porch to write to Mr. Hanson. I wrote, “Albert is very sick. I don't know when we can leave her, but I have run out of money. Will you go to the bank and see if they will let us have $200.00?” He said in his return letter, “You can pay it aback anytime or if you never pay it back it won't break me. If you need any more just let me know. Don't try to go without. I am writing to my daughter Jerry who is going to school at the A. C. (Utah State Agricultural College in Logan) to some to see you.” I held the letter and was crying when I went back to the room. My husband asked, “Is something wrong at home?” I shook my head and handed him the letter. He read it and then sang the blessed words of the old song. Count Your Blessings. He was very weak, but I could hear every work. It was the first time that he had been able to talk much for so long. I had many blessings to count. He gradually grew stronger and at least I was able to take him to our daughter, Hazel's, home in Newton, Utah for another month. He hd left home January 25th and arrived back home about June 20th.
Two years later he had to have a kidney removed in the L.D.S. Hospital in Idaho Falls. His helath continued bad and on December 12, 1931 he passed away.
The older boys ran the farm for two years then I sold the farm and moved to Corrinne, Utah where we have lived since. I only had three children left with me. The others were all married. My daughter, Mary was married 19 January 1934. Verne was drafted into the army in 1942. I visited him on his 23rd birthday—August 12 1944 in Camp Cook, California. He was then sent to Europe. Ivan was married in December 1946. When Verne returned home, he bought the place on the north of mine. Our home burned down in October 1954. We lived in one of Brother Smoot's houses until Verne finished our new home. He built it during the winter of 1954-5. It is a comfort to me—everything is so handy and built for my comfort and I love it.
I had my eyes operated on in May 1955. I have always had good neighbors and friends. I am thankful to be living in the Corrine Ward.
*Marilyn Scott Dahneke Notes on this history: Around 1961-62, I went to visit my Grandma Mangum in Corinne, Utah. She shared with me some of her family history which included an old “Personal Record” sheet where she had listed her vital information and a short history she had written. Also a larger history she had written about herself. The History of Ellen Clark Mangum I have uploaded is essentially the large life story that she had written with some of the personal details from the “Personal Record” sheet.
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