Related to a prophet

There are many different ways to designate family relationships. The term cousin, for example has multiple definitions, ranging from the children of siblings to multi-generational links. The term shirt-tail cousin, according to my understanding, refers to relationships that come about through marriage, rather than blood lines.

In this case, there is a blood line connection to the Prophet George Albert Smith, although distant. Technically, he is my third cousin, three times removed. There are several ways to explain this:

1. His grandmother, Nancy Bailey Chase Farr, and my Great, Great, Great Grandfather, Solomon Drake Chase were first cousins.
2. His Great Grandfather, Ezra Chase, and my Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather, Abner Chase, were brothers.
3. His Great, Great Grandfather, Timothy Chase, is my Great, Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather.

Perhaps these family tree diagrams will help:

I am satisfied for myself

Meet my Great, Great, Great, Great Aunt Tirzah Chase. She was the daughter of Elisa Wells and Tirzah Severance, the eighth child in a family of thirteen. The family was of the Quaker faith.

She married Ezra Chase when she was twenty two years old. They worked hard together as their family grew. Eventually they moved and became business partners with Ezra's brother Isaac and became very well-to-do citizens.

Nearly thirty years after they were married a Mormon missionary came to their area preaching the gospel and they, along with their four oldest daughters were baptized.

In response to the urging of the Prophet Joseph Smith they sold their property and moved to Nauvoo. Although many of their family members were converted to the gospel, some were skeptical of its truthfulness and remained behind.

I thoroughly enjoy Tirzah's letter home to some of these skeptics after she arrived in Nauvoo and met the Prophet. A copy of this letter to her daughter and son-in-law Mr. and Mrs. Charles Marsh is in the LDS Church Historical Department Archives. It reads in part:

"We got here the last day of July all in good health and spirits. To think we all arrived safe and sound with the travel time slowing our journey down it passed all of our expectations, but the Lord has blest us in obeying his commandments in gathering with the saints and helping on the work of the latter-day which you think is not the work of the Lord but, my child, it is the work of the Lord for no man ever could bring about so great and so marvelous a work and now I tell you I am stronger in the faith of the work than I was when I was there ...

We are well satisfied that Joe Smith, as you call him, is the one the Lord has chose to be a prophet to lead this people in these last days. I have seen him and heard him preach and I am satisfied for myself."

Sing, Sing, Sing

This is my Great, Great Grandfather Richard Brooks Goodworth. He is the Grandfather of my Grandfather Beard.

Richard was born in Crowle, Lincolnshire, England on March 26, 1846, to a large family with three half-brothers, four half-sisters, and later two younger brothers rounded it out to an even ten children. His mother had been widowed with seven children and her second husband, Richard's father, passed away when Richard was only seven years old.

Great, Great Grandfather Goodworth's appearance was very distinctive with an abundance of black, straight stiff hair. A very creative person, he enjoyed changing his look often by wearing different styles of facial hair, sometimes chin bare and sometimes not.

Although the exact date is unknown, he was probably baptized in his native land, and after emigrating to America he served as a Sunday School teacher in the Kamas Ward. 

As sometimes happens through miscommunication and misunderstandings, Richard became offended. He chose to let his feelings keep him away from church activity and could not be persuaded to return. Nevertheless, he was known in the community for his friendliness, honesty and consideration.

Everyone knows that the Beard family is blessed with superior musical talent. Some of that musicality was inherited from this good man. His talents and hobbies were writing poetry and singing. 

It was said that he could sing all night long and not repeat himself. Many neighbors were invited to spend evenings in the Goodworth home enjoying this entertainment.

At the age of 50 he contracted severe pneumonia. There were no doctors in the area, so his wife Johanna treated him with every remedy she could acquire, but his strength never returned. 

Richard did not feel worthy due to his inactivity, but obviously had great faith he God. He knew that his eighteen year old son Joseph was a righteous man and that the Lord would answer his prayers. So one evening he asked Joseph, "Mind doing me a favor?" His son eagerly replied, "Anything I can." Richard's request shocked his son, "Before you go to bed, pray that if I can't get well, I may die. Pray for me to die without suffering." Joseph protested vigorously, "I can't." But his father was insistent and reminded him, "I've always taught you to keep your word." 

From that moment on Richard refused further medication. Joseph's prayer was answered and Richard passed away on May 9, 1896. He is buried in the Old Cemetery located in Francis, Utah.

Teenage Antics

How beautiful is this setting, my father's home when he was approximately fifteen years old. It is near Driggs, Idaho.

Dad tells a humorous story from this time in this life that proves he was a typical teenager. He and another fellow were in a tussle one day on the school bus on the ride home, which ended in the bus driver pulling over and escorting them onto the roadside with the instruction that they wouldn't ride again until they had a note from a responsible adult excusing their behavior.

As soon as the bus pulled away, leaving them in a cloud of dust, another motorist picked them up and dropped them off back at the school just as the principal was leaving. They explained their situation and after a stern reprimand, the principal wrote the required note for the bus driver.

Another friendly traveler picked up the boys and quickly overtook the bus which was slowly progressing along its route, dropping off students along the way. Thanking the driver for the ride, they waited at the next bus stop. 

When the bus driver saw the offenders climb back onto his bus he was furious. He stormed back to their seats, "Didn't I tell you that you were not allowed on this bus until you had a note?"

Dad reached in his pocket and produced the required document. Though fuming, there was nothing the driver could do but carry on.

Nauvoo Neighbors

If you have been to historic Nauvoo, Illinois, you have probably visited the wonderfully restored homes of  Heber C. Kimball and Wilford Woodruff.

What you may not know is that my family members lived just across the street from these church leaders.

Ezra Chase (listed above on Property #15 indicated with the black arrow) is my Great, Great, Great, Great, Great Uncle. He purchased the property from Joseph and Emma Smith for the sum of $900.00, as indicated on the deed below. 

Four years later, on May 20, 1846, when the Saints were expelled from Nauvoo by their tormentors, the property was sold for $35.00, even though the empty lot had been upgraded with a house and other improvements.

A transcription of the above via the Joseph Smith Papers is as follows:

Treasured Cane

The gold-headed cane tightly clasped by my Great, Great, Great, Great, Great Uncle, Ezra Chase, in his portraits below was a gift from Brigham Young.

Ezra's life story is replete with references to the Prophet Brigham. On several occasions, Brigham visited, ate breakfast, or spent the night in the Chase home. Ezra's daughter Diana was sealed to the Prophet in a ceremony in the Chase home.

In his later life, Ezra traveled many times with Brigham Young to visit the settlements throughout the Utah Territory.

Ezra remained a firm believer in the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ throughout his life.

The Enoch Train

Brigham Young

While serving as a missionary in England in the latter part of May 1855, Elder Edmund Ellsworth had a dream. He told Andrew Galloway, president of the Herefordshire Conference, of it. “I dreamed that I was at home and went to … President [Brigham Young]’s office. … He said, ‘Why, Edmund, we have just been talking about you. We are thinking of having a company of the Saints to cross the plains with handcarts next year. We would like you to take charge of the company. Will you do it?’ I said, ‘If you say, I will.’” 

Elder Ellsworth asked President Galloway what he thought of the dream, to which President Galloway replied, “Well, I think it is more than a common dream. I would write it in your journal and see what will become of it.” 

Weeks later, Elder Ellsworth received a letter from President Young (his father in law): “We are very anxious to have a company [gathered] up in England to cross the plains. I do believe that I could bring a company across. … Would you like to try it? … I pray for you continually—Brigham Young.” 

After Elder Ellsworth read the letter, he handed his journal to Brother Galloway to compare with the letter. They were very similar.

The Enoch Train

With his night visions confirmed by a Prophet, in March of 1856 Elder Ellsworth led a group of 534 Mormon converts who sailed from Liverpool to Boston aboard the ship Enoch Train. The ship’s crew numbered thirty.

Richard Goodworth

Also aboard the Enoch train were my Great, Great, Great Grandmother Hannah Chapman Goodworth and three of her sons Frederick, Joseph and Richard (my Great, Great Grandfather). The boys’ father had died in England, three years earlier in 1853.

A small child on the voyage recalled his experience later, “I grew to love the ocean. Each afternoon I watched the sun sink like a ball of fire beneath the waves. Next morning it rose again out of the water. One day I stood looking over the banister on deck, a sailor came and grabbed me saying, "Why are you leaning out so far?" "I want to see the ship plowing the waves and cutting the water," said I. He held me over the banister and I took a good look.”

The crew remarked to one sister, “Your religion must go very deep to undertake an ocean voyage with so young a babe."

Three weeks into the voyage, Sister Deveroe died. Her body was sewn up in a sheet and buried in the sea. With perhaps a premonition of her fate, at the commencement of the voyage, she had remarked to a sister, "I'll go on board the ship and start my husband to Utah. If I should die, he will journey on. If we do not commence the journey, perhaps my husband and children will not reach Utah." Such was her desire for her family to gather with the saints.

Ship-board there was singing and laughter and loud jesting among the crew. Sunday meetings were conducted on deck after which a band would gather and play the hymns of Zion

After a 39 day passage across the Atlantic Ocean the ship docked on May 1st. The passengers were not permitted to go ashore for two days as they had to be examined first. Not one of the company was rejected. The physicians declared that they had never seen a healthier company of immigrants.

From Boston the emigrants traveled by rail and steamer to Rock Island, Illinois, crossed the Mississippi in a boat and boarded a train of boxcars with no seats, sitting on their trunks and baggage with no room to lie down at night, arriving in Iowa City on May 12^th.

Once in Iowa City, all the men began hastily making handcarts, as this was the first company of emigrants who would traverse the plains to the valley of the mountains pulling their supplies by hand.

One of the brethren described the handcarts: “The open handcart was made of Iowa hickory or oak. … In length the side pieces and shafts were about six or seven feet. … The carts were the usual width of the wide track wagon … were often loaded with 400 or 500 pounds of flour, bedding, extra clothing, cooking utensils, and a tent. … The covered or family cart was similar in size. … It was made stronger, with an iron axle. … Two persons were assigned to the pulling of each open cart. … In many instances the father had to pull the covered cart alone.” 

However, as mentioned previously the Goodworth family was traveling without their father. Great, Great Grandfather Richard, ten years, would push the handcart while his mother pulled it.  As a result he developed broken blood vessels in his legs which plagued him the remainder of his days. Joseph and Frederick Goodworth, only six and seven years old, walked the entire distance across the plains.  

Mary Ann Jones, a member of the company, wrote: “The handcarts were flimsy and were continually breaking down. … We were allotted one tent and four handcarts to twenty persons. We traveled from ten to twenty-eight miles each day. We were allowed 17 pounds of baggage for each person. This included clothing, bedding, and cooking utensils. Some people who wanted to take more than allowed placed on their bodies more clothing than usual while being checked. Thus some thin people became stout all at once. After weighing in, these same people placed their extra items on the carts. After a few days all members were checked again, unannounced. One old sister carried … a colander on her apron string all the way to the Salt Lake Valley. … The Lord was with us and guided us by His spirit, for although tired and footsore, we could sing the songs of Zion as we traveled.” 

The girl remembered, “It became necessary for Mother to dispose of some of our things. She sold a little flat iron that I had taken care to carry with me. How I cried when it was sold. I think this was the only time I cried on the whole long journey. I felt worried and said "Whatever will we do for something with which to smooth our clothes when we get to Salt Lake City?"

Another described the daily fare along the way, “Some stomachs may reject a supper cooked with water taken from a buffalo wallow and on a fire of buffalo chips, but to us the food was good.”

When the company was about eight miles distant from Salt Lake City, they were met by President Young, the Nauvoo Brass Band, and many others. President Young rose to make a speech, but when he saw how hungry the little ones were, he said, “Come, let’s serve the food; speeches can wait.”

Observers described their arrival after walking 1300 miles: “It was a day never to be forgotten. Faces were much sunburnt and lips parched; but cheerfulness reigned in every heart, and joy seemed to beam on every countenance. One would not think that they had come from Iowa City, a long and rough journey of from 275 to 300 miles, except by their dust-stained garments and sunburned faces.”

Of the 274 people who embarked upon the arduous journey in the Ellsworth company, 13 persons died - from consumption, diarrhea, and whooping cough, one brother was struck by lightning and one disappeared and was not seen again.

A participant expressed the emotions of many upon completion of the trek, “We had reached our goal, traveling on foot all of the way. … We had left comfortable homes, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends all for our testimony of the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ and for the privilege of hearing a prophet’s voice and to live with the Saints of God. I have never regretted the trip.” 

Ramona at Peace

The lovely memorial shown below marks the peaceful resting place of my aunt, Ramona "Mona" Mary McCracken Hansen in the Cache Clawson Cemetery in Tetonia, Idaho. Mona is my father, Harold McCracken's younger sister. 

Here are the two of them together as children and then later during Harold's furlough from the Marines:

Aunt Mona's obituary refers to her husband Miles as the "love of her life" and "her biggest fan", what a nice combination. The back of the memorial stone reinforces this theme: "The most important thing parents can do for their children is to love and cherish each other. For this we thank you Mom and Dad."

Uncle Leon's Resting Place

Elmer Leon Beard is my well loved uncle. 

When he passed away in December, 2013, at the age of 71, his wife Sue and son Kerry lovingly constructed his casket by their own hands of weathered barn wood from buildings that had been on the Beard property for generations. It is very probable that the wood was milled by the Beard family.

Leon's resting place in the Cache Clawson Cemetery in Tetonia, Idaho, has recently been marked by this beautiful memorial stone.

I'm confident that Leon is well pleased with the engravings which celebrate everything he held dear:

• His wife and children
• The temple which signifies his eternal link to his family including his parents and siblings
• The farm, illustrated by a barn, silo and corral
• The Teton Valley, with the beautiful Teton Peaks, his lifelong home. 

No further epitaph is necessary.

Inventors

My dad, Harold Arthur McCracken, didn't paint any portraits or sculpt any masterpieces, but he has used his creative talents in exceptionally inventive ways throughout his life. A walk around his Archer property recently reminded me of his practical and purposeful creativity. In my book he deserves to be listed among the great inventors.

Lucille Beard Groceries

The date is October 12, 1939. The past fifteen months my Grandmother Lucille Chase McCracken Beard had seen tremendous lows and highs. She has buried her first husband, Demar, worked multiple jobs to provide for her son and daughter, married her long time friend Elmer, and she is now nearing the delivery of her third child, who will be a son, Aaron.

As much as possible, the family table is spread with home grown produce, game, and eggs and dairy products fresh from the barn.  Food is preserved for the cold winter months, but, the growing season is short in Tetonia and gardens are plagued by late and early frosts, making self sufficiency a challenge.

This picture of the interior of A. C. Miner's Store in Tetonia was taken approximately during this time period and gives a glimpse into Grandma's shopping options. 

Here is an exterior photograph of the grocery.

The grocery store ads from The Ashton Herald newspaper on this date, October 12, 1939,  give us a glimpse of what Grandma would spend for foods to supplement what they could produce themselves.

I'm impressed with some of the prices, but not so much with the selection. Two pounds of peanut butter for a quarter sounds like a deal; I wonder if my dad ate PB & J's.

Frozen Sensation

Some of the finest brush strokes in the creation took place in Swan Valley, Idaho. Summer scenes of vibrant color and authentic rural life are among the most picturesque your eyes will ever behold.

I'm told that winter is glorious there as well; I'll have to trust the testimony of others on that count - too cold for my blood.

The most popular sight in this locale, however, is of a very cold variety, and is on a much, much smaller scale - the size of ice cream cones sold in the corner country store. 

Back in the day, summer excursions to Grandma and Grandpa Beard's home often included a side trip to Swam Valley for a cone filled with  square scoops of delectable ice cream. Leon seemed to suggest this outing on a regular basis. No wonder he was everyone's favorite uncle.

I'm told that this phenomenon started quite by accident clear back in 1946 when the owners of the store, Harry and Grace Traver, decided to sell Farr's Ice Cream from Salt Lake City to attract tourists. Grace mail ordered an ice cream scoop from the east coast and much to her surprise when the package arrived she discovered that the scoop looked very different from what she thought she had ordered. 

Indeed, it was square! She didn't like it, not at all. It was crazy! But Harry decided that the novelty might be just what they were looking for, so they gave it a try.  

The square ice cream cones became an instant attraction and the popularity continues today, although the store has undergone significant renovations that have diminished the rustic charm from the days of my youth.

During the summer months, especially on the Fourth of July, the lines extend clear out into the roadway. In fact, even though I am not an ice cream connoisseur, I had bragged about the cones so much to Dean that we stopped there on our first time in Swan Valley together. The line was sooooo long, that he decided it wasn't worth the wait. He's sampled the treat since, but still mourns that first fateful day. 

The most popular choice is "Huckleberries and Cream" and keeping up with the demand for that flavor requires thirty tubs per week during the summer months.

The moral of this story is that if you are traveling through Swan Valley, you really should carry on the family tradition of ordering the frozen sensation from 1946, the square ice cream cone. And enjoy the other scenery while standing in line.

Chase Women in Nauvoo Relief Society

The Chase's were well represented in the Nauvoo Relief Society. Listed among the membership were the following that I have been able to link to my family line:

These good women are mentioned several times in the minutes of the Nauvoo Relief Society as preserved in the Joseph Smith Papers. Your guess is as good as mine which of the above deserves credit for the following (original spelling maintained):

"Mrs. Chase then spoke in a very animated strain, by way of  encouragement to the sisters, saying the angels are rejoicing over you."

"Sister Chase then rose and spoke on the necessity of prayer and faith  - exhorted the sisters to faithfulness to be much in prayer - said she stood a living witness for Jesus of Nazareth - knew he had pourd his spirit upon her -  inasmuch as we visit the sick we shall be blesst -  I mean to do all that I can - to releave their necessities we must be humble and overcome the powers of darkness and live by faith.

"Mrs. Chase prophesied that henceforth, if the sisters are faithful, the gifts of the gospel shall be with us, especially the gift of healin."

Words of Love More Powerful Than the Rod

Meet Joseph William Goodworth, my Great, Great Uncle. 

One cannot tell from this solemn adult portrait pose that Joe was mischievous as a youth in his classroom and, by his own description, a discipline problem. His school met in a one room structure that housed all eight grades. Since graduation from the eighth grade was comparable to a high school diploma today, one can envision grades K through 12 in one setting. That wide span in age and ability presented a myriad of challenges to the teacher and students alike.  

School paddle

His teachers were mostly men who enforced discipline with a rod. This was standard and accepted in schools in the late 1800's. This method of teaching did little to squelch Joe's naughty behavior.

It had been reported that the school in Kamas, Utah, that Joe attended was inadequate. It was said that students were not learning as they should and the community was nearly illiterate. A change was made in the school administration with a new teacher sent to reverse the problem. The teacher determined that the situation was not as serious as reported and left after a season, but she was there long enough to make an impression on Joseph. 

One day this wonderful teacher sat Joe down and told him what a nice boy he was and how much she loved him. He said that he "never had such a beating in his life by words with love". I like to think that she helped him realize his name - Goodworth, teaching him that he was Good and had Worth. He desired to please this teacher who saw the good in him and even after her departure from the school, self discipline replaced the rod. 

Although due to family circumstances Joe's formal education ended after grade six, he always enjoyed reading and was a good mathematician. The self discipline he learned served him well throughout his lifetime.

Family Resemblance

If you lived in the McCracken home between 1962 and 1971, you watched The Beverly Hillbillies, a sitcom about an impoverished mountaineer, Jed Clampett, who struck gold and moved with his daughter Elly Mae, second cousin Jethro and cantankerous mother-in-law Daisy Mae Moses (Granny) to a mansion in Beverly Hills, California. Granny was a short and scrappy shotgun toting moonshine making fireball who fancied herself as a "dunked" (not "sprinkled") Christian.

Wouldn't you say that she bears a striking resemblance to my Great, Great, Great Grandmother Amy Scott Chase?

I wonder if there were other similarities besides appearance? Family histories describe her a a sturdy and devout Quaker with a character predominated by courage and fortitude. 

Amy was born in Rupert, Vermont, with fourteen siblings. When Amy Scott married Abner Chase in 1808 she was nineteen years old. Within the following nineteen years, Amy bore eleven children. They lived on a Vermont homestead which still goes by the name of "Chase Hollow" and is located at the foot of "Tater Hill". 

Two years after the birth of her youngest, Abner passed away, leaving Amy with nine living children, five boys and four girls.

She sold the farm and moved in with her oldest son, Sisson's family. Amy enlisted the help of family members to help raise the younger children. Her son Solomon, my Great, Great, Great Grandfather lived with his uncles and was introduced to the gospel by them. 

Amy followed her son's spiritual path and laid aside the Quaker religion.

She was very independent and developed the skill of weaving the wire sieves for threshing machines, which enabled her to make "quite a salary". After working and saving for three years she could afford to buy a span of horses, a wagon, and other necessities to immigrate to Iowa, where she joined a group of other settlers on the Pottawattamie Plains for three years.

In 1853, when Amy was sixty-four years old, she started west with many other family members. She lived with Sisson's family for a period of forty years. She was buried in Salt Lake City in 1872.

So, back to the comparison to the Clampett's. Amy's family were mountaineers who struck gold when they heard the gospel message. They headed west and lived in a multi-generational setting for many years. How many other similarities may exist is yet to be known.

Setting the Record Straight

Have you ever attended a funeral and wished that you had known the deceased a little better after hearing them eulogized as "practically perfect in every way"? It's very unpopular to mention the faults of the deceased, or allude to their shortcomings and annoying habits, so life sketches are typically full of superlatives and praise. That's what we want to hear and I certainly hope the trend continues until I make my exit.

Likewise, as time passes, memories tend to gradually evolve from reality to imagination. We are all guilty of this and I like to think of it as a form of forgiveness and love, rather than an intention to deceive or bend the truth.

To be fair, occasionally it becomes necessary to "set the record straight". 

In all honesty, and without any imaginative stretch of memory, my mom, Coila Ethel Speas McCracken, was "practically perfect in every way". It's true.

I was recently asked: 

"Did she really bake 

18 large loaves of bread at a time?" 

Hmmm ... I didn't know the answer, although I did recall the ever present smell of homemade bread, huge thick soft slices with nice chewy crusts, counter tops lined with dough rising in aluminum pans and a chest freezer stacked to the brim with bagged loaves. 

But, since I couldn't be sure and my memory was unreliable on the number question, I contacted a more reliable source who replied: 

• "I'd say 10 loaves when making white bread, 6 loaves when making raisin bread - but sometimes made both in the same day. Throw in a batch of cinnamon rolls and 18 sounds like a fair equivalent."

                                        (Thanks to Sandi for the tally.)

So, to set the record perfectly straight, 18 large loaves of bread  may be a slight enhancement fueled by aromatic memories.

In the interest of making the picture completely accurate - there was no bread maker or Bosch to knead the dough in my mom's kitchen. Her hands 
moved in perfect rhythm 
as she worked 

• Heel, push, fold, turn; heel, push, fold, turn, repeat, repeat, repeat... 

She was not satisfied to grab a handful of dough and smash it into the pan. The dough was carefully rolled into pillows and pinched on the ends to make a nice smooth even loaf without too many big yeast bubbles.

Please don't feel inadequate if I throw in a couple more facts. 

As the bread was pulled from the oven, the tops were lathered with butter which was also homemade. To start the butter making process, the milk from our very own cow was first run through a separator to extract the rich cream. 

I'm elated to have Mom's butter churn on my kitchen shelf, where it is a great decorative conversation piece. It makes its way down from the shelf at least once a year (to be dusted). 

After the butter was churned it was made into a perfect rectangle in a mold very similar to this one. 

Oh, did I mention the homemade freezer jam made from strawberries out of the garden? 

The record is now officially accurate as far as I know, so as you can see, my mom was pretty amazing!