Hardships make us if they don’t break us.

The first winter on the farm in Idaho in January of 1980 the water froze and froze hard. We got our water from a mountain spring that was just at the foot of the mountain about a quarter mile behind our house. The pipe that carried the water from the spring to the house was buried about 4ft deep. It had started to leak and the severe cold found its way down to the ,main water line and froze it. There was no chance for repair till late spring when the ground had unfrozen. The line would then have to be dug up and replaced. So our house just didn’t have any water. I’m telling you it was cold back then and record snow fall too.

The rancher that had a cattle feed lot next door said we could get water from the stock tank that the cows used. The water ran all the time and from the tap it was very clean. We would load up the tractor with grandpa’s old “Diamond T” flatbed trailer with all the old milk cans and 50 gal drums we had. We would fill all the milk cans from the tap that never stopped flowing that fresh mountain spring water. This was our drinking and cooking water. But it took too long to wait to fill everything that way. So we would break the ice and scoop up in 5 gal buckets of water from the trough for bathing, washing and flushing the toilet. We would then drive the tractor back to the house and unload as much as we could onto the back porch. Then every day we would chip through the ice to get the water we needed. We only flushed the toilet about once a day. The old adage “if its yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown flush it down” really meant something then. Baths were Saturday night in preparation for church on Sunday. The smallest would go first it seemed like, and would receive one large canning pot of hot water. The next child would go and a fresh pot would be added to the tub and so on. I remember looking down at the tub after mom had just added a fresh pot of hot water for me to the now half full tub, there was moss from the cattle trough floating in the dark gray water and I thought to myself “how can this dirty water get me clean?” but after a week of no bathing I really didn't even care. Truth be told it felt soooo good and I did feel better maybe even slightly cleaner after. Spring finally came and dad rented a trencher and a new line was installed to the house and water returned.

This taught us to be thankful for the things in our life that we normally take for granted. This was a hard time but we pulled together and made it through “none the worse for the wear.”

Remember Case family rule #1 Life’s hard but I’m tough!!

10? Things I want my kids to know (Part 4)

By Bishop H. David Burton

Presiding Bishop

8.       Journal; Write down your personal best and worst. Spiritual highs and lows. Although I have not done the best at this I have written some and hopefully continue to improve. I remember watching the movie”Ephraim's Rescue” at the end; they gave an account of all of the main characters. One lady it just said that all that was known about her was that she attended a sealing in Salt Lake City some time later after making the trek to Salt Lake City with a hand cart. What a shame that her story is lost. I’d assume because of the lack of keeping a journal (although I don’t know for sure) I have heard that if you don’t write your history that within 3 generations you are lost and forgotten. More than all of that though, is that we can help and straighten those that come behind us. Help them overcome and persevere in their own life's struggles. Maybe lighten their day with a laugh or enlighten them to their own history. This goes with #7.

Alma 37:2,6 And I also command you that ye keep a record of this people, according as I have done, upon the plates of Nephi, and keep all these things sacred which I have kept, even as I have kept them; for it is for a wise purpose that they are kept…
6 Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

3 Nephi 23:10-13 And his disciples answered him and said: Yea, Lord, Samuel did prophesy according to thy words, and they were all fulfilled.
11 And Jesus said unto them: How be it that ye have not ^awritten this thing, that many ^bsaints did arise and appear unto many and did minister unto them?
12 And it came to pass that Nephi remembered that this thing had not been written.
13 And it came to pass that Jesus commanded that it should be ^awritten; therefore it was written according as he commanded.

As we can see from this account in the scriptures we may be held accountable for not passing on the stories that we have been given. Here they stood before Christ and were asked for a reason why they had not written it down and had to answer face to face.

President Spencer W. Kimball gave this counsel: “Every person should keep a journal and every person can keep a journal. It should be an enlightening one and should bring great blessings and happiness to the families. If there is anyone here who isn’t doing so, will you repent today and change—change your life?” (In Conference Report, Apr. 1979, p. 117; or Ensign, May 1979, p. 84).

Brent and Shane Fruita CO

9       Hard work is a gift; Life wasn’t meant to be easy we have to work for anything worth having. 

I want you to know that there is real value and meaning in work. I want you to know that anything worth having is worth working for, and work will be the major part of obtaining it.

“The prophet Alma said it very well while glorying in the success of Ammon and his brethren. He said, “Behold, they have labored exceedingly.” (Alma 29:15.)That is a pure definition of work”.

“Striving for success without hard work is like trying to harvest where you haven't planted”

 I remember once when I was young I had a 1966 Ford Mustang. It was a sweet car to a young man, and I loved it. However it was an old car and it broke down all the time and I didn’t have any money to fix it. I would buy a book on how to fix it them read how to, and then try to do it myself as I couldn’t afford to pay to have it fixed. One time I had to rebuild the suspension and front end. It was very completed and took a long time. I didn’t have the right tools and had to make do with what I did have. I talked to men that knew how to do it and asked for their advice often. I would get frustrated wail working on it and have to walk away for awhile. Time and time again I would walk away frustrated and take a break from the struggle of learning something new. It took like a month to fix it and get it back on the road but, I did it. I still remember the un-replaceable feeling of having done something I felt was unachievable,  as I pull it back on the road and took off as fast as it would go. There is a feeling deep inside that you'll never get any other way.

My point is I could not and would not have had that feeling if it was fixed by someone else or if it had been easy, I would have never felt that. We only get that feeling of accomplishment when we have worked hard for it.

You’ll hear in this world that everyone is a winner and that no one looses. Everyone gets a blue ribbon at the end. What a load of crap!!! Even the small children know the true value without being told if they have worked hard and accomplished something or if they just showed up for the ribbon. Working hard is its own reward and we know this instinctively.

Grandpa Wright told me “The problem with doing nothing all day is, that you can’t take a break from it” The fastest days are always the ones in which I have been anxiously engaged all day Where as the slowest days are when there is little or nothing to do. Those “do nothing days” are relentlessly long and boring.

Ecclesiastes 3:13  And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the ^agift of God.

President David O. McKay said, "Let us realize that the privilege to work is a gift, that the power to work is a blessing, that love of work is success" (quoted by Franklin D. Richards, “The Gospel of Work,” Improvement Era, Dec. 1969, 101).

By Bishop H. David Burton

Presiding Bishop

Work is not a matter of economic need alone; it is a spiritual necessity. Our Father in Heaven works to bring about our salvation and exaltation (see Moses 1:39). And, beginning with Adam, He has commanded us to work. Even in the Garden of Eden, Adam was instructed to “dress [till] it and keep it” (Genesis 2:15). After the Fall, Adam was told, “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread” (Genesis 3:19). As with any other commandment, there is joy in its keeping. To work—honestly and productively—brings contentment and a sense of self-worth. Having done all we can to be self-reliant, to provide for our own needs and those of our family, we can turn to the Lord in confidence to ask for what we might yet lack.s be the kind of men and women that are grateful for work and embrace all the good that comes to us through hard work.

10? Things I want my kids to know (Part 3)



Alma (Tam) Wright on his horse at Kolob Utah

Lewis Martin Hodgkinson

7.     You come from a long line of great men and women and you are who you are in no small part because of them. Just think if you had a different grandfather you would be 1/8^th different than you are now. It was rumored that your great, great grandpa cut his toe off and just wrapped his toe up stuck his boot on and went back to work. He didn’t take his boot back off some time after that even sleeping in his boot. He just kept doing what he needed to do. His DNA is part of you. Also in the book From Tabernacle to Temple – the Story of the Vernal Utah Temple (ISBN 0-9665966-C-9) on page 22 William and Hephzibeh are mentioned in conjunction with a visit from the President of the Church, Joseph F. Smith for the dedication of the Uintah Stake Tabernacle. He tells that your 3rd great grandfather saved him from an angry mob and wanted to visit his family to tell them the story.  I can see parts of them in each of you.



Garrett Case Family

 



Maria Jackson Normington Parker

Thomas and Maria Jackson Normington were converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Burnley, Lancashire, England. They had three daughters and a year old son, having had two boys and their oldest daughter die there in England. They worked and saved money to immigrate to Zion. Finally, the sailed on the vessel, “Horizon” from Liverpool on May 22, 1856 with two of Maria’s brothers who had also joined the church. The ship reached Boston, Massachusetts six weeks later, on June 30 and the arrived in Iowa City, Iowa on July 8, 1856. The Normingtons learned that there had been so many converts preparing to cross the plains to Salt Lake City that all the handcarts were being used by earlier companies, so more carts had to be hastily constructed and all that was available was green wood. Precious time was lost making the handcarts, which should have been spent in traveling, and many provisions were used which should have been for their journey. At last, on July 28, 1856, the Martin Handcart company started westward. In spite of the lateness of the season and the advice of those in charge at Winter Questers, the leaders decided the company should leave. In their desire to go to Zion, the overlooked the fact that God moves in natural ways and expects us to respect natural laws. It was the fifth handcart company to leave that season and consisted of 576 person, 146 handcarts, 7 wagons, 6 mules, 50 cows and beef cattle. Usually the man would pull the handcart and his wife and children push or walked alongside. Thus, Maria and her family traveled the first lap of the journey, 300 miles to Florence, Nebraska, where they arrived August 11, 1856. At Florence, Nebraska the two sections of the Martin Handcart Company were consolidated into one as a protection against the Indians in crossing the mountains and plains, and on August 25th, the company rolled out of Florence. They reached Fort Laramie six weeks later in October, and were told Salt Lake was just two weeks away. Perhaps they would have made it to the Sale Lake valley before the sons but there were numerous delays. That hastily made handcarts and the use of the green wood combined to make the carts break down frequently resulting in a costly loss of time and provision. Maria and Thomas were expecting their eighth child in about three months but things hadn’t been overly difficult. Their three little girls and boy toddler were happy and she has a good singer with a jolly, cheerful disposition. Her favorite song was “Come, Come, Ye Saints” and it was a great comfort to sing as they pushed and pulled the cart. Each adult received a ration of one pound of flour a day, but even so there were still hungry, so when they reached Fort Laramie, they were glad to exchange their watches and other valuables for extra food. Maria and the other pioneer women were well organized and would have dinner ready a half hour after camp was made for the night. They made biscuits on the way by mixing soda with a cup of sour milk, pouring it into the top of the flour sack, adding a pinch of salt and quickly shaping biscuits which were cooked as soon as they stopped. Soon however, the flour rations had to be cut to ¾ a pound a day, later to ½ pound, and still alter to less and finally no flour at all. Still the company toiled cheerfully on. They were becoming weak from fatigue and lack of food. So it was with heavy hearts that any extra things from the handcarts were cached or simply abandoned along the road. Extra bedding, carefully guarded heirlooms, personal treasures, all were left behind to lighten the loads, but still, with rivers to ford and an early winter sapping their energy, progress was slow. Maria and Thomas’ little boy, about eighteen months old, dies, and she was permitted to ride half a day in a wagon with his little body until camp was made and he was buried. Soon after, Maria gave birth to a new baby boy, who soon died. On the morning of October 19, they awoke to a raging snowstorm. Already their beds were covered with four inches of snow. They were camped by the Platte River and had to cross it before the storm grew worse. The river was wagon-bed deep, and the men carried the children and those women who were too ill across, but most of the women tied up their long skirts and waded across. The storm continued for several days until the snow was fifteen inches deep on the level, but still they struggled on, strong in their faith and their hopes for a new life in Zion. Probably as a result of the exposure from the storm and freezing cold of the river fording, cholera broke out among the starving, suffering camp and one night Maria’s husband, Thomas, and sixteen other died and were buried in a common grave. A friend of the Normington family, James Bleak became so ill from the cholera that his family thought he was dying, and since the company had to move on, they wrapped him in a blanket and left him to die on the prairie. That evening when they camped for the night, Maria went to ask how their friend, James Bleak was feeling. When Mrs. Bleak told her they had left him back on the trail to die. Marie told her she should not have permitted him to be left because he had been promised in England by the gift of tongues that he should reach Zion in peace and safety. Maria then took her handcart and went back on the trail until she found him and brought him back to the camp, helping bring him back to health. James Bleak did live to reach Zion and became secretary to President Brigham Young. Their clothing and shoes were worn out. They had very little bedding and practically no food. Maria saved what food she had for the three little girls and she tried to eat dirt to satisfy the hunger pangs. She walked until her feet were so frozen and sore she could walk no more. Then she crawled along on her hands and knees, and when her hands were so frozen she could use them no more, she went on her knees and elbows. Years later, at the time of her death, there were great scares on them from this awful experience. Maria was so overcome with hardships, starvation and grief that when the relief wagons came, she was unconscious and remembered nothing of the last part of the journey. A company of missionaries, returning to Salt Lake City on October 4th, had reported the terrible conditions of the handcart company they had passed. Conference, which was in session, was adjourned and president Young called for 20 teams, loaded with provision, to leave the next day to meet the emigrants. John Parker furnished one team and wagon loaded with provisions, and his son William Parker drove the team. It was into this wagon that Maria and her three little girls were placed. On Monday, November 30, 1856, the weary survivors reached Salt Lake City more than four months after they started. Only about 300 of the original 567 reached the valley. Some turned back, but most died of privation along the trail. Maria and her children were taken to the home of John parker and nursed until she recovered, after which she helped with the house and farm work at the Parker farm near Taylorsville. She was sealed in the Endowment House to her dead husband, Thomas Normington and in 1857 married John Parker as a plural wife. Six years later, John Parker and his three families were called on a mission to southern Utah to raise cotton, fruit, etc. They left their comfortable homes again and moved their cattle and sheep to help build up and redeem a rough, desolate wasteland. At first, Maria lived in a “dugout” and later in a log house. She was thrifty and industrious, washing and scouring wool from their sheep, carding and dying it with dock roots or adder, then weaving it into cloth for their dresses and suits, which she also made. She sewed, knitted, tatted, and netted, making the most of she had, and was soon comfortable in their home. Maria was never heard to censure anyone for her trials, nor complain because her lot was hard. She was cheerful and faithful throughout her life and felt that the gospel of Jesus Christ, for which she had endures so much, was the most glorious of all blessings. Her family said her prayers reflected her great faith as she seemed to actually see and talk with her Father in Heaven as she expressed her gratitude and asked for the blessings they needed. She died in Virgin City, Washing County on March, 18, 1881.

Side note: One time on the farm when grandpa Case (far right in the 3rd picture) was visiting us and was helping me move the 4” sprinkler lines that kept our crops watered and growing. We had just turned on one of the sprinkler line after we had moved it and watched to make sure that the line had come to full pressure insuring that the job was done and all was well. We heard the distinctive clang as the pipe hit full pressure and all the sprinkler heads sprung into full production. (No greater sight for a farm boy in summer than a sprinkler line at full pressure after having just moving it) Satisfied that our work on this line was done I turned for his old red Chevy truck and met the soul searching gaze of my grandfather. He was just standing there looking at me, muddy and covered in sweat. It was getting a little uncomfortable, then with an intense look he said, “I’ve given your dad a good name and he has taken good care of it. He has given that name to you. What do you plan to do with it?” This has stuck with me throughout my life, sometimes it condemns me when I should have done better and other times it lifts me as I have done my best. Like it or not, we carry this name that has been defended and built up by all those that have come before us and we should do our best to honor it in our words and deeds.