Zelma Remembers

Life With Sam and Hannah

 

She writes: “After our ranch home at Argyle burned down, Father built us a nice, new one.  Even our little kittens were burned were burned!”  Sam enjoyed working in the timber. Although he did many things in his life, this type of work appealed to him the most. He liked the action of the mill and seeing the logs turned into nice, neat piles of lumber. The clean odor of the pine in the raw really cannot be. duplicated.

 

In the spring we would move from Randolph to the ranch, put in a crop of grain, then go to the sawmill.  In the early fall we'd harvest the hay and grain and later we would attend school. All these moves soon caused my family to discover I could pack more items in less space than anyone, so I was elected to do the packing.

 

I used to help Father cut timber.  He'd shout at me when we felled trees saying, ‘Stop riding the saw.'  I tried ever so hard to follow his instructions. Working with him in the woods had more appeal to me than doing dishes for Mother.

 

Some events that took place in his life just didn't seem at all fair.  He purchased two beautiful, gray, work horses, and they were a perfect match. Almost the first time he took the team into the woods one of them stepped on a Y shaped stick. One prong flipped up and struck a blood vein in the horse's stomach, and the horse bled to death before Father's eyes.  I had to see for myself the exact spot where that handsome horse met his fate.

 

About three weeks later the other gray horse with the beautiful markings was grazing on the mountain side, and he ate a mouthful of grass containing poison larkspur.  This horse died too.  Neither of these horses had been paid for.  My brothers disliked the fact that Father had to pay for dead horses.

 

Once Father made a bargain to sell some hay to his friend, Peter McKinnon, for $15.00 per ton, and within a few months, Father bought the hay back from him for $30.00 per ton. The hay was always on our property.  Again my brothers could not see that this was a fair bargain.  Father set fine examples for our family by being honest and by living up to his principles.

 

I recall one time Father left the sawmill to buy provisions to last for several days, but he returned later with hardly anything to cook.  Mother forgave him when he related what had happened.

 

When Father was Justice of the Peace in Randolph, he had to judge a case that was very disheartening.  A judge and his wife were going out to see a play, and their son objected, saying, 'If you go, you will be sorry.’  The boy climbed up a tree in the yard, waited until his parents returned and shot his father, killing him. 

 

Father believed the lad was insane and had him committed to an asylum in Evanston, Wyoming not far from Randolph.  The young man threatened to kill Father if he ever had a chance.  I know Mother was relieved years later when the folks moved to Idaho.

 

After Allen died and the bills had piled up due to his expenses, our mortgage on the home in Randolph was due. We lost that house. It does seem our parents had lots of trials, but that is the way life seems to be. They say adversity makes one stronger and more humble.  Few people are without tribulations. Right?

 

On our way to Island Park, the first time the train had too heavy of a load for the engine to pull all of it.  At Warm River Canyon our car was uncoupled, and the first part of the train was pulled up the steep grade.  This gave us time to get out and roam a little and enjoy the timbers, river, canyon, etc.  This was the same area Lewis and Clark had discovered many years previously. 

 

When our turn came, as we went up the hills on the train, there were many curves, and most of the time the two ends of the train could be seen from one side or the other of our car.  Charlie and I kept busy viewing first one side and then the other.

 

We found that in Idaho the roots of the timber did not grow down very far which indicated there was a lot of water. In contrast, the timber in Utah had deeper roots because weeks went by without rain. Father warned us that in Idaho if there should be a storm, we had better watch out for falling timber.  A tree could fall and get within yards of the ground with the slightest sound. Sometimes trees fell in our paths due to a slight wind, and we'd find them fallen across the roads.

 

It was the love of the sawmill and the love of the timber that stayed with the South family. The pines and the fragrance of them stayed in my blood and I loved it.  One summer Father contracted to build some cabins for Charles Pond on the river near his resort. It rained the whole summer.  It was like a vacation living there in a tent and enjoying people all around who were on vacation.

 

The family didn't make any money but mostly enjoyed ourselves. We went fishing and swimming at Pond's and at Big Springs, and boats were available for our use.  We prepared our meals on a small wood-burning stove.  When the wind blew, and when the rain came straight down, and we were often driven out of the tent by the smoke from the fire.

 

Father and the boys got out the logs for the cabins and also got out materials for the first Pond’s Resort.  Our very first South Reunion was held at Pond’s Resort a few years after the cabins were built for Mr. Pond.  Later, the resort burned and parts of it had to be rebuilt.  During that long summer, Mother taught me how to make braided rugs and also how to make a pretty rug from heavy woolen materials.

 

In 1927 Father contracted to build a summer home at Mack's Inn for Mr. St. Clair of Idaho Falls.  As it neared completion, Father teased me saying, ‘Zelma, you must earn your keep and help shingle the roof of that house.’

 

I went to school for a time in Idaho Falls; but I must have felt marriage more important for the first boy that came along got me to elope, and we were married in St. Anthony on October 27, 1927.  Charles LeRoy Hanni, son of Bill Hanni of Big Springs, was definitely a poor choice for a husband.  He’d served time in the Reform School for such things as forgery.  We lived in Ashton, and there a stillborn baby girl was born to us.  I recall that Ruth South came and rendered assistance for which I shall always be grateful.

 

I started working for A. S. Trude at his ranch in the Island Park country in the vicinity of Shotgun Valley.  I worked as a maid for the Trudes and gave up the tough struggle I'd had living with Roy. It wasn't until June 9, 1937 that I divorced him.  I wonder, too, why it took me that long to do so.

 

I had only worked for Trudes a short time when I asked if I could go with them to Chicago.  Mrs. Trude said, ‘Yes.’  By this time she had learned that I got along well with people.  Mother and Father had a party for me before I left Idaho with the Trudes on October 29, 1929.  Mother served her favorite

dishes and also gave each of the women present a little favor.

 

In time Mrs. Trude hired me as a cook.  Later I went with a friend to Boston inasmuch as I'd become interested in being a fur finisher, lining fur coats. Perhaps my liking for furs dates back to my days in Idaho when Father taught Barney and Charlie how to trap animals so they could sell the pelts for money. They gave me the fur from the chipmunks.

 

From Chicago I moved to Boston where I met Samuel Schwartz, a Jewish fellow. We worked together in Murray's Fur Shop and finally were married February 25, 1945. I don't think his mother ever knew that we were married.

 

Mother and Father came to Boston in 1940. They had a rough but interesting trip traveling in a Greyhound bus. While with me, I showed them things I thought they'd enjoy seeing, but LDS church friends were the most important of all.  I had to work each day.  Mother kept herself busy in my small apartment.  She loved the oriental rugs and needlepoint, and while she was with me, she made me a lovely rose and blue afghan which I've used ever since.

 

Each day Father would start out walking from Park Drive, and all he would ever find was apartment buildings, hospitals, schools, churches and parkways, but no movies.  Boston is called the Hub City because it is like the hub of a wheel, streets going in all direction from the center, which is the Boston Common.

 

While living in my small but comfortable apartment, I used to reflect back on my family. I missed family prayers in the evening, the blessings at meals, and being with my loved ones.  Once I met Sam I knew he was the reason I wanted to continue to live in Boston."