Ch'ing - outs

The Mandarin word for "please" is "ch'ing".  So in missionary speak, or chinglish, a "ch'ing-out" is an invitation by a member to have a meal with them.  In a place like Macau, that can turn into a real adventure, because you never quite know what to expect, except that it will be the best that the member can give you.  Let me tell you about a couple of them that we have experienced recently.

Our first ch'ing out was on May 8 by a sweet, middle-aged Indonesian sister, Sister Wu Lan.  At this point she had been a convert for about 6 months.  She is here pretty much alone in Macau, working where she can to help support a family back home.  A recognized chef with specialties in Indonesian and in Italian cooking, she can usually find part-time work in one of the many casino restaurants here in Macau, but the competition for full-time chefs is really tough.  Here is a picture of the dish she created to win a cooking competition recently.

The Winning Entry

Don't ask what this dish is.  I really don't know.  But if it is anything like the meal she gave us, it is really good.  And this recommendation comes from a reluctant experimenter.  Changing from Ranch to French dressing on my salads is about as adventurous as I usually get.







The first meal was truly a humbling experience.  For the past several months Elaine and I have been working on perfecting (improving anyway) our table manners by sitting up straight at the table and trying to remember to keep our fingers out of our food (and our foot out of our mouths, so to speak). Now picture 16 or so people in a room probably not more than 8' x 12', with perhaps 2 or 3 short stools, a fan in a corner and an impressive array of delicacy dishes.  Although strange to the taste, the food was good.  Think lots of hot curry, rice, mushrooms, chicken parts and light-green vegetables and more hot curry.  I'm proud to say that I tried everything. And lost a good quart of perspiration for my efforts.  Best of all though, it all settled well on my stomach.  Fortunately summer hasn't arrived yet - the temperature in the room couldn't have been much above 90 degrees or so.

The meal was served Indonesian style, with a fork or spoon being provided for those of us who aren't properly cultured.  Seating was basically on the floor, with one leg tucked under you and the other knee bent vertical to serve as a table.  The truly polite guests used their fingers exclusively as the eating utensils.  Newcomers were expected to use the Western utensils provided.  Chopsticks are Chinese inventions, not Indonesian, so they weren't available.  Old stiffies like me, who don't sit well on floors, were graciously given a stool or the option of standing.  Oh, I probably could have gotten down into the proper sitting position OK, but they would have had to evacuate the room and bring in several strong elders (or a crane) to get me back up again after a half hour or so.

The most memorable feature of the whole experience, however, is the sweet spirit of friendship and love in that tiny home. The young missionaries happily entered into the ambiance of the situation.  What a treat it was to see the blue-eyed blond Sister Darcey sitting on that small floor, speaking fluent Chinese, surrounded by dark-haired friends, and eating those exotic foods like a native.  Or our would-be-vegetarian, Elder Nathan Smith, sitting Indonesian style and trying valiantly to clear his plate of an assortment of meat, bone, and vegetable dishes, just using his fingers properly as knife, fork, and spoon.  And crowning the entire experience was the beaming Sister Wu Lan presiding over everything.  I wish I had had the courage to take pictures, but I was still too new and too shy.


Our second member-meal was as different as it is possible to get from the first one, I think  We were asked out by the 1st Branch president, President Teng to have dinner with his family at a buffet.  The Teng's are relatively well-to-do, having a very nice apartment, a car, and even a real piano in their home.  I didn't know quite what to expect, but their oldest son, Fallon, drove us to the Star World Hotel/Casino, and escorted us up to the 14th floor where the "Temptation Lounge" is located.  (This is the older brother of the infamous Nelson of the previous post).  He then left us with his younger brothers and returned home to get the rest of the family.  The Tempation Lounge is properly named, just not for what you would expect when you think of a hotel/casino.  I could comfortably take my mother or grandmother, or even the mission president, to that buffet.  Everything is "G-rated".  Except for the food.  Think "Chuck-a-Rama" in one are, complete with roast beef (water buffalo), pork, potatoes, soups, salads, and everything.  Along another wall is the Chinese cuisine - I'n not even going to try to describe it except to say that it looked, smelled, and tasted wonderful.  In the center was a pastry area with breads, sweet rolls, and more.  I ate until I was stuffed to the point of mild pain.  And then the temptation entered.  I saw the dessert corner - cheese cakes, waffles, ice-cream (including mint-chocolate chip), mango soup, sweets . . .    I confess.  I succumbed.  I came.  I saw.  I was conquered.  I was almost sick.  Sadly, I was still too shy to take pictures.  I will try to go back and get some and add them to a later post.  The food was surpassed only by the graciousness of our hosts.  I found out a bit later that the Tengs have a prospering Sun-Rider franchise here in Macau, complete with a very modern, clean store not too far from the chapel.  They seem to do well with it.  I am sure I will talk more about them in the future.

There have been other invitations which are well-deserving of description.  I hope to get to them soon.

2012 May 4

Our stay in the Hong Kong Mission Home was short, hectic, memorable, and is all in a muddle in my mind because of jet lag and overall weariness.  My first impression was, "Where's the mission home?" Forty or so years ago the mission home was just that - the place where the mission president and his family lived, where missionaries were greeted in a lovely living room, and where visiting guests would stay and meet the local elders.  Today the mission home is a three-story office area with an apartment facility for visiting temple patrons on the top floor (Floor 2), classrooms on the second (Floor 1), and the chapel and office on the ground floor (called "0" Floor here).  It is also located across the street from the old mission home.  The 6-story Hong Kong Temple now occupies the location at #2 Cornwall Street.  The next impression is that everyone is unbelievably friendly and seemingly anxious to make us feel welcome.  The greetings almost made us feel like celebrities - but we know better.  There is a lot of learning and work to do just figuring out what our role is.  Getting here, hard as it was, is going to look like the easy part in retrospect.

Wednesday morning (I think it was: the days got all muddled up in there somewhere.  It took me almost a week to figure out what day we were actually on), we went over to Hong Kong Island to the immigration bureau and applied for our Hong Kong Identification cards - a simple, almost formulaeic procedure that takes a lot of time.  Hong Kong doesn't look the same as I remember it either.  In the first place, instead of riding the Star Ferry over, we went on the subway.  The Star Ferry was the Chinese version of the old American railroad boxcar / passenger car you see in old movies.  It got you where you were going and that's about the best you could say for it.  Comfort was not an issue.  Now they have built a subway tunnel between the mainland and the island.  Trains run every few minutes, and you don't even know you're under water.  Clean.  Efficient.  Often crowded, but not like the old double-decker buses we used to pack ourselves into.  Amazing.  There are also at least three beautiful freeways crossing the harbor for the adventurous land travelers.  We did take the old Star Ferry back to Kowloon just for nostalgia's sake, and to get a couple of pictures of the Hong Kong Harbor as it is today.

Hong Kong Island from Kowloon

Looking at Kowloon from Hong Kong Island.

On the left center you can see the old Star Ferry, still in use as a tourist attraction.  On the right we are on the "Walk of the Stars" on Kowloon.  It is located next to the Hong Kong Cultural Center.

Hong Kong Ferry Terminal

Thursday afternoon we met four young elders who had been to a conference in Hong Kong and who were returning to Macau where they work.  They helped us with finding our way, and with our luggage.  The Hong Kong Ferry Terminal was another surprise.  I expected it to be the same old crowded, dirty place I remember the Tiu King Ling and Star ferry Terminals to be.  Instead I found a modern, clean and shiny facility with convenient shopping areas, restaurants, stools for waiting passengers to sit on, and modern ticket counters in which to buy tickets.   These are Elders Smith, Li, Li, and Tyauh.

The Macau/HongKong Ferry

Interor of the Macau Ferry

The boat itself is is a turbojet-powered boat with air conditioning and bucket seating for probably a couple hundred people in the economy class.  Cost of the trip from Hong Kong to Macau is about $25 US, depending on when you travel.  Seniors get a discount, usually.  The trip to Macau is about 40 miles long and takes almost exactly one hour on a normal day.  The ride is sort of like being on a slow-motion Merry-go-round, except you're moving forward very fast, and unless the sea is choppy.  You're actually going across the mouth of the Pearl River, but it very much affected by the ocean tides, waves, and currents.

Home Sweet Apartment

Once in Macau the elders told us that our apartment really isn't very far from the terminal, but nobody really wanted to carry the luggage that far, so we took a bus home.  I think it is a good thing that the bus run starts at the terminal.  Imagine 4 missionaries, 2 senior missionaries, and at least 10 large pieces of luggage getting onto a rather small bus.  We filled it pretty good all by ourselves.  By the time we reached our destination the thing was packed.  A rather lengthy, circuitous drive through narrow, crowded streets took us to within about a block of our new home.  We are on the 16th floor of this building.

As we entered the living room of our new apartment, we were greeted with shouts of "Surprise".  All the young missionaries and a couple of members were here to greet us.  They had spent at least one entire day scrubbing down the apartment to make it liveable for us.  Pictures of them working were posted in the various rooms.  They had also purchased some basic food stuffs and eating and cooking utensils, which must have taken no little part of their preparation day.  What a beautiful, great bunch of people.  I've said this before, I know, but I really think I'm going to like it here.  I hope we will prove to be worth all the trouble people have gone to for us.

In case anyone didn't already know, fifteen hours on an airplane is a really long time.  Claustrophobia is not a problem for me, but I have to admit that getting off that airplane was one of the most welcome experiences I can remember.

As we were navigating our way through the Los Angeles Airport we met an interesting trio of Chinese young people who seemed to be having a bit of trouble.  I first remember seeing them at the security desk at the international terminal.  As the good-will ambassadors we want to be, we naturally thought we'd lend a hand with where to go, and they pitched in and helped us with our luggage..  After a little bit, we discovered we were all going on the same plane to Hong Kong.  We introduced ourselves, and found their names were Monson, Sara, and Nelson - not  atypical adopted Asian names. At the final security check, due to a lack of adequate time, the other passengers in line allowed all of us to move to the front of the line, and the young folks came right along with us.  Once past security they continued to help us to the boarding area, where we parted, presumably for good.

To my surprise, as we got of the plane in Hong Kong (we were among the last off), there were our three new friends waiting to help us find and get through the Chinese security and customs and to just generally help us through a most unfamiliar terrain.  I thought, "What sweet young people these are."  Somewhere along the about the time we headed for the baggage claim area, one of them casually mentioned that our ride was already at the terminal waiting for us.  With those names, and that clue, I should have figured out what was going on, but  even that wasn't enough in my over-fatigued brain (at least that is the excuse I like to give myself).   I innocently asked Nelson just who it was that he thought was waiting for us.  He replied "President Chan and his wife".  So what do these young folks know about President Chan, I wondered.  After about a minute of thought processing and interrogation, I found out that these three have been attending school in Utah (not BYU), and were returning home for the summer vacation.  Two were headed for Hong Kong, one to Macau where his father is the Branch President of the branch we'll be working in.  They are all active members of the church from good, strong families.

We have enjoyed a good chuckle over their little charade, as I'm sure they have.  So much for the "inscrutable" Chinese psyche.  That is just the type of joke I would love to play, if I could only keep my mouth shut long enough to pull it off.  What a great start to our Adventure.  I have a hunch I'm really going to like it here.

Sorry I don't have any pictures this time.  I have some good ones for future posts, but I was just too jet-lagged to even thing about cameras or pictures that day.  I hope to get more posts on here in the near future, now that we have the internet in our apartment.

1 May - 6 May 2012

I didn't get the other family stories done as I had hoped.  Life got really busy there for a while.  Maybe I will be able to write them later.  They are worth telling.

Our adventure has officially began.  On 23 April we entered the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah for one week of intense training, basically in how to teach effectively without offending or being offensive.  We were able to spend the nights with Elaine's sister, Margaret, and the days in study.

The MTC is a unique experience and environment.  It has to be lived in to be understood.  I expected everyone there to be serious and long-faced and totally focused on gospel subjects.  Instead I found a place with a lot of good-natured laughter and smiles, easy friendships, and an environment open for learning.

Of course, the traditional pictures needed to be taken.

             

In the main hall there is a large map of the world, where the missionaries love to stand and point at the places where they are going,.  We had in our group people going to Cambodia, Viet Nam, parts of Africa, Europe, the USA, and even to Hong Kong.

The pictures above are Sister Welling and myself pointing to our place - Maccau, SAR, China.

Our Study Group

Senior Missionaries This Week

The main group would eat together and have some general instructions, then we would break into smaller study groups to practice and learn more about the specific duties we would be called to fill.  It's hard to realize that we'll probably never see most of these people again.  They were great.

As we were walking across the campus one day, we met up with a young elder from our home ward who is headed for Mexico.  So of course we had to get a picture of him with us.

With Elder Walker

And that about wraps up the week.  I am writing this from Maccau, SAR, China.  For some reason my computer thinks I have become Chinese so all the directions for entering information are in traditional Chinese script.  That has made doing this really interesting!  We will be getting the internet in our apartment hopefully next Saturday, so I should be able to write more frequently.  In the meantime I just want to say how much we are enjoying this place and these people.  We have been here almost a month now.  I can hardly believe it.  I'll try to write about the people and the differences as I see them before they become too familiar and I no longer notice.  Until then, joi gin.

I find it interesting how this blog morphed from what I had planned into pioneer stories.  It has been fun gathering these pictures and the information for each post.  The correspondence I've developed with new friends and previously unacquainted relatives is priceless to me.  There are many more stories I'd like to tell, but time is getting short.

We will enter the MTC in three weeks and I expect my posts will transform again.  Just what form they will take, I don't know.  These things seem to have a sort of life of their own, but once I find out what they will become maybe I'll change the title of the blog to something more accurately descriptive.  My wife tells me the current title is really misleading.  She's right.  I can only plead that it wasn't planned that way.

But if you've stuck with me this long, I hope you'll be patient as I embark on this new journey - this new chapter - of my life.  I hope I can make it interesting through my words.  I'm sure it will be interesting to live it!

In the meantime I'll try to get three more stories done (2 after this one today).  Thomas Biesinger and Anne Hodereine are great tales.

btw: if anyone knows how to contact me and can tell me, in simple terms like step-by-step, how to read the "Comments" that have been posted, I'd appreciate hearing from you.



Elizabeth Esther Massey Simper
Thomas Simper

Elizabeth Simper

Life was good as the young couple started their family.  As an expert game keeper (animal husbandry specialist and hunt master), Thomas had comfortable lodgings in the "big house" and a potentially good income (mostly from tips received for leading hunts on the large estate he called home).  Elizabeth was from a well-to-do family and would have brought a reasonable dowry.  They were comfortable, with plenty to eat and with a growing family.

Always interested in religion, Elizabeth was caught up in the new Mormon movement and started attending the cottage meetings being held in the area.  She was soon convinced of the truthfulness of the restored gospel and sought baptism.  The rest of the immediate family soon followed her example.  Neither her parents nor his were very happy with this change from their traditional faith, but the feelings of love in the homes prevailed, and when son-in-law John Birch Fagg served his mission in England several years later he was welcomed into their homes and treated with kindness and respect.

The call to "Gather to Zion" had gone out, so in 1865 Thomas and Elizabeth sold most of their worldly goods and headed for the Salt Lake Valley.  In New York they purchased oxen and wagon, outfitted themselves well, and were promptly robbed of everything.  It was about this time also that their infant daughter, Dorcas, died.

I can't find a record of how they made it to Salt Lake, but with the American Civil War just over there was a lot of trade starting up again.  Thomas was an accomplished hunter.  Perhaps he was able to use that skill in earning his passage across the continent.

In any case, they arrived in Salt Lake in a destitute condition.  Employment opportunities for game keepers were non-existent.  Nearly twenty years of unregulated hunting in the mountains around the valley had seriously depleted the natural wild-life. About all that was left was for Thomas to set up as a farmer to try to provide for his rather large family.  Farming and game-keeping aren't all that compatible, and hunger became a familiar visitor for the once-prosperous family.  The children wanted to "go home", and Thomas longed for his old life in England.  Elizabeth wanted to stay in Zion.  To Thomas's credit he held on with his wife and family and supported them to the best of his ability throughout his life.

And here we see how trials can affect people totally differently.  Elizabeth came out of the experience with a "broken heart" - one open to the sufferings of others, with love and empathy for them, and accepting of the influences of the Holy Spirit.  She held on faithful and at peace within herself.  Thomas, on the other hand, came out with a "broken spirit".   The endless hours of farming, the cries of the children from hunger, the harsh dry climate, and the additional struggles of the new homesteader were more than he could bear.  His faith was broken.  He died in his daughter's (Caroline) home, a sad, lost man.  But can we judge him?  I think not.  He did his duty.  He loved and was loved.  He was honorable and dependable.  I'm quite content to let the Lord do the judging, confident that He knows the heart of each of us and will judge us with love and compassion.

So that I can end this on a happier note, his daughter Caroline has an interesting story behind her names.  When it came time to christen her, Elizabeth was very ill and couldn't leave the house.  So the baby was sent to the church in the care of three aunts.  Unable to settle on a name for the child, each aunt gave one of her own names to the little girl.  That's how we get the name Caroline Esther Elizabeth Simper.  At least, that' the story I've been told.

Elizabeth Birch Fagg Swain Harker

"With a jar of fruit and an umbrella I can take care of myself", she asserted.  Along with a good, sharp hoe, Elizabeth proved that more than once.  For example, not long after moving to Rush Valley (near Vernon and Grantsville, Utah), her abilities were to be put to the test.

The story goes that one day she discovered she had visitors.  Two "Indians" had entered the yard, demanding that she give them bread.  Elizabeth replied that she didn't have any at the moment, but expected to be able to make some that afternoon.  If they would come back in the evening, she'd have some for them.  "Give me bread, now" was the response.  "I'll have some this afternoon.  Come back then."  "You lie!" the man accused her.  Quickly Elizabeth moved to the side of his horse, grabbed the Indian by the arm, and jerked him from the saddle, into the dirt.  "Nobody calls me a liar . . . " she forcefully told the surprised man.  "Come back later, and I'll give you some bread."  Brushing himself off and remounting his horse, he commented somewhat amazedly, "Heap brave squaw!".  They came back in the evening and were properly fed.  Afterwards Grandmother had no trouble with the Indians.  They would bring her game, she would give them bread, and she was known to take their children into her home for protection when the epidemics struck the Indian camps.

Elizabeth Birch Fagg Swain Harker

Pedigree to 5th Generation

Elizabeth Birch was born in 1830.  One of eleven children, she learned at an early age to work hard and to take responsibility.  At around 18 years of age she went to work on a farm, or estate, where she met John Fagg.  They were married, but John disappeared before their son, John Birch Fagg, was born.  Whether he was killed in a railroad accident or what isn't clear, but Elizabeth found herself delivering her child in a "Poorhouse" - the infamous "Workhouses" of Charles Dickens' novels.  The poorhouses were designed to encourage people not to want to be there,  and the design seems to have been effective, at least for Elizabeth.

In 1852 she tried her hand again at marriage, this time to a big, handsome policeman named Robert Swain.  Together they studied the restored gospel and were baptized into the church.  They had two daughters, but when the youngest was about 6 years old the marriage ended.  Pride, a wandering eye, and seemingly a bit of a temper, were more than she could take.  It is reported that she was so upset that she threw her wedding ring into the ocean when they separated.  I don't have an exact date for that event, but it must have been around 1860.  For the next 7 years Elizabeth did the best she could to support her daughters, working in a hotel as a cook and living above the Mormon missionaries' quarters in exchange for doing their cleaning, etc.

Robert Swain makes for an interesting side story here.  The popular policeman, nicknamed "The Flower of Kent", seemingly took the separation and his subsequent excommunication from the church hard.  But he must have still believed the gospel, because as a single man, excommunicated, disfellowshipped, and pretty much alone, he crossed the plains to be with the Saints in the Salt Lake Valley.  He took a job in the Granite Quarry on the lowest level and proceeded to get his life back in order.  He was re-baptized, and eventually was able to progress through his new profession until he became a chief stone mason for the Salt Lake Temple.  That is one of the things I love most about the gospel of Jesus Christ - the opportunity to fully repent, be forgiven, and return to full fellowship.  Sins can be forgiven through the grace of our Savior, and we can be healed "with His stripes".

L-R  Esther Birch Bennion, Sarah Birch Waters, Elizabeth Birch Fagg Swain Harker

But back to Elizabeth.  In 1868 she had finally saved enough money to make the journey to Zion, arriving one year before the railroad was completed.  Within three months she had become the plural wife of Joseph Harker.  At least two of her sisters had also converted to the church and were in Zion, as was at least one of her daughters.  The reunions were joyful, even if a bit stressful (you'll have to read more of the story elsewhere to find out why).

Years of independent living didn't help her adjust to life as the third wife of a polygamist.  In a short time Joseph let her move to his ranch in Rush Valley, where she looked after the ranch and provided a good place for Joseph's older sons to stay when they were working the ranch.  Elizabeth was "set apart" as a mid-wife, and her old white horse and buggy became a common sight in the Tooele Valley area.

Life was good for her there until one day, when she was out, some children got to playing with gunpowder.  They laid a trail through the yard, the house, and the outbuildings and succeeded in burning the entire homestead to the ground.

Elizabeth moved back to the West Salt Lake Valley (Taylorsville) where Joseph built her a home on 4800 South.  It is still wondered why he built the house with every interior doorway just short enough that Elizabeth would have to either bend her knees or bow her head to pass through.  It rankled her enough that before she died she threatened dire retribution if anyone dared to bury her even on the same side of the Jordan River as "that man".





Again, I feel guilty about doing such a brief story about such an interesting person and her life.  Faithful to the end, through personal trials and sorrows and loneliness, she is one of my all-time heroes (I know - I'm gender-incorrect grammatically, but you get the message).  I look forward to the day when I can meet her and tell her how much I admire her spirit, her tenacity, her spunk, and her faithfulness.  I only pray that I can hold out faithful to the end, as she did.

Sources: (in no particular order)
"Heap Brave Woman) by Beverly Squires Muir,  DUP publication)
Fagg Family Book - "The Family of Charles William & Martha Sophia Price Fagg"
Wikitree.com /wiki/Birch54  Profile manager Rena Brewin from SalmonTree.get
Wikitree.com/wili/Birch51  ibid

A special to Ellen Fagg for permission to use ideas and words from her essay "Stalking My Own Pioneer", published in the Salt Lake Tribune 20 July 2008.  She is to blame for getting me started on this quest of finding my family stories.  A great hobby, and a good way to not be too tedious at family reunions, this is.

Corrections and additions

I have gained an appreciation of what a reporter does.  Trying to get all the facts straight and all the pertinent information together, then organizing it in a coherent and readable manner is a lot tougher than it looks!  I probably won't quit complaining about sloppy writing or inaccurate data, but I will be more sympathetic.

Anyway, I want to make a short post to fix and add some information.

First, in my last post I stated that Grandma Karen Johnson made "ftallvid",  and sold it to help support the family.  I am informed by a most reliable source, Sverre Stølen from Trondheim, Norway, that that "word is unknown, and should most likely be 'flatbrød',  literally 'flat bread'", and is still eaten today.  Sorry about that error, and than you Mr. Stølen for your input.

Second, my cousin Tamra Asay sent me this picture.

House in Trondheim

I think this is the house that Olaus, Karen, and the family built when they moved from Ytterøy to Trondheim.  It looks awfully good for being nearly 140 years old!  Someone has taken meticulous care of it.

Truman Leonard Residence

I wish I had recorded just where I found this picture.  I wasn't wise enough to record it in my Web Sites Visited log.  So now I'm trying to track down some more information on it.  I believe it might be in the Farmington, UT area, and have contacted the DUP (Daughters of the Utah Pioneers) trying to locate it.  I would appreciate any information I can get about it.  Thank you.




My next post(s) will be about my maternal line.  There are some fascinating women pioneers whose stories are "totally awesome".  The first will be on Elizabeth Birch Fagg Swain Harker.  That name alone should stir up some curiosity.  If that's not enough, a book, "Heap Brave Women" has been written about her.

Until next week . . .

 Olaus Johnson       born 9 September 1823        

5 generation pedigree

                             died 14 February 1908


Karen Anderson     born 10 September 1825
                              died 12 April 1896


                                                                         

Olaus Johnson was a bootmaker.  His specialty seems to have been what they called 3-generation boots.  The boots would start by being very high topped, almost the height of hip waders.  When the tops started to wear out, they would be cut down to knee-length, then after further wear would be cut down to ankle-length shoes.  One pair at least was reportedly still in use after 35 years.


Ytterøy, where the family lived, is a small island in the Trondheim Fjord.  It is sometimes referred to as "The Pearl of Trondheim Fjord" because of its beauty.  I found some pictures of the islands around Norway, and some of Ytterøy itself.  With permission from Sverre Stølen, I have included some of them here to give an idea of the land.

Harbor in Trondheim Fjord

Winter scene in Norway

 Money on the small island was scarce, so Olaus would travel around the island and nearby islands, as did most of the tread-men (trades-men) of the time.  After finishing their apprenticeship with the a master craftsman, the men would journey through the area,

Farmstead in Winter

and became known as "journey men".  At least that is the history of the terms in England, and I imagine it isn't too different throughout northern Europe.

Karen added to the family coffers by baking large batches of "ftallvod", a thin, flat bread, which she sold to the sailors and fishermen who came to the port.

But, as the family grew, they found it necessary to have their oldest daughter, Olova, move to Trondheim to work.  She found employment with the Nickolson family (who were related to Emma Olson, who later married my great grandfather, John Arnt).  The Nickolsons were members of the LDS church, and soon Olova was convinced of the veracity of that church and was baptized.  She sent literature to Olaus and Karen, and soon they also requested baptism into the church.  The fact that the baptismal date is 27 December 1877 tells a lot about their zeal in the new faith.  We baptize by complete immersion.  I can't help but think that had to be cold in the Trondheim Fjord.  Perhaps that experience was a fore runner of the "Polar Bear Plunge" that is popular today in the colder northern climes.

As was typical in emerging feudal societies of the day, a land owner, or land lord, had title to the land in any given area.  He would lease out a portion of the land to productive workers in exchange for their labor at planting and harvest times.  Planting and harvest times were generally a time of hard work, but also of socializing and merriment.  As is true today, wherever people gather there will be people with goods to sell.  Large merchants would set up store and sell their goods in whole lots (whole-sale), which was usually counted by the gross, to local gross-ers (grocers) to sell during the rest of the year.  Anyway, the entire family would often pitch in to speed up the labor.  It was a good system, for the landlord,.

On the tenants side, even though they didn't own the land, anything they built on it, or any improvements they made, would be their own.  The drawback to all this was that there was no written lease on the property.  The tenant could stay as long as the landlord was pleased to let him stay.  When Olaus and the family joined the LDS church, the landlord wasn't any too pleased.  The family was given a short time (I think something like 2 days) to either renounce their new faith, or remove themselves.  Hurriedly borrowing a relative's fishing boat, the family disassembled the house, loaded it on board, and set sail to Trondheim, a larger and more cosmopolitan city.

Trondheimm late 1800's

Trondheim, late 1800's

Trondheim, late 1800's

Once there, at the request of the missionaries, land was found and the house was re-assembled to include a large room suitable for holding church meetings, and having an extra room for the traveling missionaries when they came through.

Olaus continued his trade as a shoemaker, but with another personal touch. He would stuff a Mormon tract into every pair of shoes he worked on.  A number of people became interested in the church through this simple act.  One story coming from this is a beautifully-written telling of Anna Widstoe's conversion, told by her son John A. Widstoe in his book, "In the Gospel Net".  The three pictures above are from that book.  He tells of his mother's introduction to the church and of her struggle to accept the preaching of a lower-caste lay minister.  But the testimony of the Holy Spirit convinced her to join and eventually to emigrate to America.  John A. Widstoe became one of the leading LDS scholars of the first part of the 1900's, as well as a member of the presiding council of the church - the Quorum of the 12 Apostles.  The story is in chapter 8 of that book.

Starting in 1878 the family started their move to America. First one son left, then the rest of the family as they could.   It wasn't until 1882 that they were completely reunited.  They settled in Logan, Utah, a cooler and snowier location than the Salt Lake desert to the south.

Karen died at age 70 in 1896.  Olaus survived her by 12 years, with his death listed at 1908.

Here is Olaus Johnson's testimony, as given by him and translated either by Osborn Widstoe or one of the missionaries who knew him.

"I bear witness that we have the truth.  I am satisfied, beyond a doubt, that the Book of Mormon was found in the Hill Cummorah.  I rejoice in this.  I have studied it and pondered upon it.  I have read it in my native language, and taught the people, among whom I lived, that it is true.  I bear you my testimony that I know that the boy, buy the inspiration of the Lord, translated the record, and we have it as a witness for God in the earth today.  The Gospel in its fullness is contained in that sacred record.

"I rejoice in the testimony I have.  The Gospel is true.  My desire is to serve in my humble and weak way as long as the Lord requires my service.  I desire my children and children's children after me shall engage in the service to our Father in Heaven and to His Church.  There is nothing in the world that I love so much as I do my family.  To me they are very dear.  I desire to have them grow in the faith and serve in our Father's Kingdom.  For this reason I left home, kindred, friends, and native land and passed through hardships of pioneering.  I know the Gospel is true, and if we are true to ourselves, we shall eventually attain to the goal for which we started out.  May God bless and take care of my children, grand-children, and great-grand-children forever.

In Jesus' name,
Amen

Note:

Much of the information I have used here is from Gwen Miner's story "Grandmother and Grandfather Johnson".  Thank you for your recollections!

There is so much more to the story of their lives, but my purpose here is not to write a detailed biography.  Rather, it is to give a taste of the powerful spirit of these people, and maybe help me define myself a bit more clearly in the process.  I hope others can find strength in this common heritage as well.

Ed Welling

Truman Leonard
Born 17 Dec. 1820
Ontario County, New York

Baptized 25 March 1843
Near Kirtland, Ohio

Pedigree Chart

Moved to Nauvoo 11 July 1844



That little capsule above is about all I know of his early years, but there is room for some interesting conjecture in those dates.  First is the baptism near Kirtland, Ohio.  An early gathering place for the LDS church, by 1843 the members were pretty well moved out.  In fact, the last official group left in October 1838.  How much Truman knew of the Mormons, I don't know, but I'm sure they left a mark on the land.

His arrival in Nauvoo is also interesting - just 14 days after the murder of Joseph Smith, the founding prophet of the faith.  He must have been present at the meeting in August when the "mantel" of the prophet fell upon Brigham Young.  His decision to follow the prophet is obvious.

Nauvoo Temple 1840's

For the next two years Truman worked on the Nauvoo Temple.  The steeple had a height of around 160 feet, and he was one of reportedly only two skilled workmen who could work at that height.  As the temple neared completion, while working at height, Truman somehow fell to the ground.  Bystanders were sure that he was either dead, or soon to be so  But under direction, he was given a blessing and taken home.  I can imagine the surprise when he showed up for work the next morning, ready and willing to continue his labor!  As a reward for his faith and diligence, Truman and his first wife, Ortentia, were the first couple sealed for eternity in the Nauvoo Temple.

On the westward pioneer trek, Truman Leonard led a company of 27 covered wagons to the Salt Lake Valley, where he and Ortentia built a home and tried to start a family.  Six of their children died from the hardships suffered during pioneering. 

After 2 years in the valley, in August 1852, Truman was called on a mission - the Hindu (India) Mission.  He and his companions left Salt Lake in October and traveled to San Francisco where they were able to book passage on a ship to India.  They left on 28 January 1853.  The trip took 88 days and covered 11,000 miles.  It took 6 months just to reach the mission field.  (And I feel abused thinking about 20 or so hours on a plane to get to Hong Kong!  Poor me?)

The Ganges River, Calcutta, India 1850's?

His mission to India lasted almost 2 1/4 years, all done without "purse or scrip" - meaning that he ate, slept, and lived wherever he could for that entire time.  Little success was found in proselyting .  Disease was rampant, especially malaria and cholera.  At one point while traveling alone, Truman Leonard came down with the cholera.  Scarcely able to move, he said a fervent prayer and administered to himself, then gave over his fate to the Lord.  On the verge of death again, a friend (an Englishman) for some reason traveled 300 miles and found him just in time to nurse him back to health and save his life.

With the mission finally ended in 1856, he and a few others made their way to England, where they caught the packet ship "Enoch Train" for America.  The "Enoch Train" was at the time the largest of the packet ships afloat and was used extensively by the LDS converts as they crossed the ocean.

A clipper ship of the 1850's

Packet ships were new to the sailing world.  Technology had finally advanced enough that regularly scheduled runs could be made across the Atlantic, and they would hit their time schedule amazingly well.  The more wealthy passengers on these ships would take a round-trip voyage, wanting the sunny, or warmer side, of the ship both ways.  Thus they would have the Port side Outbound and the Starboard side Homeward bound voyage, giving rise to the acronym "POSH" for the luxurious accommodations.

Truman Leonard

Truman reached Iowa just in time to join up with the 2nd handcart company, and served as a co-captain of that group.  Their travel was so fast that they caught up with the 1st company (with Grandpa Job Welling), and both groups entered the Salt Lake Valley together.  He had been gone from home just 1 month shy of 4 years.

Not one to let grass grow under his feet, he not too long thereafter married two wives, and settled down in earnest (or so he thought) to raise a family.

Mary Ann (Polly) Meadows

Mary Ann Meadows was a plural wife, and the one I come through.  He met her on the handcart trek in 1856.


 But his life of service was not over.    In the following years he served missions to "The US Mission" from 1871 to 1872, to the "Eastern States Mission" from 1874 to 1875, and to Canada (this time with the dual purpose of escaping the persecution coming down on him for his participation in polygamy).


Truman Leonard returned home in 1894.  His later journals refer to several trips to the eastern United States, and to family outings on the "Dummy Railroad" to Farmington.  I'll talk more about that when we deal with Thomas Biesinger (another grandfather).  He also details his 50th wedding anniversary with Ortentia, his first wife.

Truman Leonard died on 20 November 1897 at the age of 77.  The Deseret News did a story on him at that time.  It closes like this:

"Truman Leonard, one of the historical characters of Davis County . . . one of the hardiest of men . . spent all of his life in pioneering the way for those who followed.  He had a big heart; he was generous to a fault.  Those who knew him best loved him most; and in that time when he shall stand before the Great Judge to receive his reward, the multitudes will rise and say, "He was a friend."

Thank you, Grandpa, for such a wonderful legacy!

There are more great stories about Truman Leonard in the book "Heart Throbs of the West" by Kate Carter and published by the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers, and in his journals found in the BYU Special Collections Library.

With seven weeks to go before we enter the Missionary Training Center, there is still time to tell a bit more about our origins.  The next several posts should be about our ancestors who first joined the church. Then, if time permits, maybe just a few pictures about our present family.


I think I'll try to start each post with a pedigree chart showing just how this person is related to us.  Then, when possible, a few photos of the grandparent and an unmercifully brief history of their lives.  They are fascinating people.  If anyone wants to learn more about them, they are welcome to contact me through a comment.  For some of these people there is a wealth of published information.  For others there is not so much.

So here goes.

Job and Francis Elizabeth Yeoman Welling

Job was born: 1833  in   Audlem, England

Job is my 2nd Great-grandfather on  my father's line

Audlem, England. is in  the west central part of England.

He married his first wife in 1852 when he was 19 years old and she was 21.

Job's profession was a tailor, a skill that stood him in good stead throughout his life.  He used it to not only earn a living, but as a most valuable asset as he walked across the American Great Plains, being able to mend wagon covers and tents.

Job Welling: English tailor

Job Welling: Handcart pioneer, father

Job joined the "Mormon" church in England.  He met his wife, Francis Elizabeth Yeoman while serving as a traveling elder for the church.

He was given the choice by his parents - he could keep his faith or his family.  He chose his faith.



He was actually born Job Wellings, but when the family somewhat disowned him, he said, "I stand alone.. .   My name is now Welling".

A street today in Audlem, England

 

 

 

 

 

Audlem Church: built in 1278

Grammar school: 1655 ?

Home of John Wellings  1840

Job,  Francis and their year-old son, Job Jr., left England in April 1856 on the ship S. Curling.  They arrived in Iowa in time to join with the first of the fabled handcart companies.  273 people started on the pioneer trek, 228 lived to reach the Salt Lake Valley.  Included among the fatalities was 19-month-old Job Jr.

Francis died nine years after reaching the valley, at about the age of 35.  Job remarried a while later.  Then remarried again (to his wife's sister).  Then remarried again (to another of his wive's sisters).  Shortly after the wedding to his 4th wife Job was called on a mission to Australia where he served for 2 years.  I guess someone figured enough was enough!

On the way out, he went by way of England (don't ask why.  That seems like the long way to me, too.)  While there he spent considerable time around the old homestead.  Well aware of how much he had changed in the 19 years since he had left, Job took great delight in hanging around the local gathering places and dropping reminiscences and names, all the while watching with good humor as people gradually realized who he was.  His reunion with his father went well, and they seem to have been reconciled.  Sadly, his mother died not too much before Job's return.

Job died in Utah 7 March 1886, at age 53.  He left behind 3 wives and 20 children.  If you look at the painting of the organization of the first primary, you might notice one of the adults there looks remarkably like the photo of Job shown above.  He was in the bishopric of the ward at that time, and we believe that he is the one who was painted in that scene.  The stories the struggles and triumphs of his surviving wives and children are wonderful to read.  The 3 wives were the daughters of Jonathan Holmes - another early pioneer and a member of the Mormon Battalion.  He was preceded in death by a lot of people throughout history, but of especial significance were his first wife, Francis, Job Jr., and seven other children.  Willard and Annie were the two children of Francis who lived to maturity.

Job's faith was strong to the end of his life.  He knew and loved his Savior and the restored gospel which he had dedicated his life to.

Most of this history is taken from the Welling Blue Book.  The snarky comments are strictly my own.  I'm sure someone will call me to account for them.

Zeroing in on the homestead, here are a few shots of the town and the homestead.

Early Snow

 Although the growing season is long, sometimes we do get an early snow.

Autumn Leaves

 The hot summer days eventually give way to the cooler autumn season.

Our dog - Jocko

                                               In the heat of the summer, a nice shady place is a treat for anyone.

Moab Valley looking down from the Moab Rim

You can actually see the house from here, if you know where to look.

The Storms Approach

 

Be it ever so humble, it's no place like home.  Not even a little bit.  But it was too fun a shot to pass up.  This is the historic Wolfe Cabin located at the trailhead to Delicate Arch in Arches National Park.  The storm that approached was real, however.  It washed out part of the road and even the first section of the trail leading up to the arch.