Oliver Cowdery Dunford (1863 - 1943)

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Birthplace: St Louis, MO, USA
Death: Died in Bloomington, ID, USA
Managed by: Della Dale Smith
Last Updated:

About Oliver Cowdery Dunford

Under the Media Tab above, there are other pictures of Oliver and Ida and their family, plus one that was taken when they were on their first mission in New Zealand in around 1889 or 1890, and one of Oliver with one of his brothers and a friend. What a handsome couple Oliver and Ida were!

The following history of Oliver is condensed from Oliver Dunford's Memoirs of Oliver Cowdery Dunford, son of Isaac and Leah Baily Dunford. His autobiography begins, "My parents, Isaac Dunford and Leah Bailey, were born in the beautiful little city of Trowbridge in Wiltshire County, England, declared by visitors and tourists the most picturesque spot in England. In that thriving industrial city, they grew to maturity, met, loved, married, and became the parents of sons and daughters. For a livelihood, they served as expert operators in the great textile factories. They were prosperous and happy. They had many relatives and numerous friends.

Live was running smoothly with them. In the course of time itinerant emmisaries of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ came a preaching in the vicinity. They heard, they believed, they embraced, regardless of threatened consequences which proved to be ostracism from the favor of community, kindred, and employers. Responding to an irrepressible urge, they left their lovely home and all that was dear to them and embarked for the land of Zion, in a crude sailing vessel of that crude period. While in mid-ocean, a baby girl was born. They named it Seaborn. Reaching new Orleans after a tempestuous voyage, they embarked in a river steamer for St. Louis, Missouri. On the way, Seaborn died and was buried in an unmarked grave on the banks of that great river, the Mississippi.

In St. Louis my father was employed in the mercantile business. Here a number of children were born, including Moroni, Albert, Eliza, Parley, and on the 12th day of October, 1863, I came into the world in that great city. I being the eleventh child in a family of thirteen.

A few months later, perhaps in the spring of 1864, the family joined an ox team caravan, bound for Utah. After months of tedious, toilsome, distressful journeying, they reached Salt Lake City where my father, being a merchant, found employment in the store of William Jennings, the earliest and greatest merchant in Utah of that day.

In conformity to the policy of Brigham Young which was to select and send into the valleys of the surrounding country his sturdiest and most stalwart men, my father responded to the call and in company with Hames H. Hart, and others, wended his weary way most laboriously into the then bleak Bear Lake Valley in the month of December, 1864.

Having arrived so late in the fall, too late, in fact, to build individual cabins, a number of families huddled together in one shack and wore out the frigid winter in extreme privation. In the spring our family moved into a house while father and the larger boys were building a lob cabin on the lot where the family home has been and is to this day (and continues to this day, 1996).

Oliver wrote, "I have vivid recollections of the time when a quilt served as a door to that dear old hut and oiled paper as a window, when hay or straw served instead of a floor. When dry-goods and other boxes were our table and chairs, when a flattened piece of timber much like a slab was laid where the most walking was done...I remember with great clarity, stepping off that slab onto some carpet tacks that had been spilled in the straw, particularly when about a million of those tacks stuck into my bare feet..."

In course of time another room was added to this humble abode. Then came doors and windows to make life more tolerable...lumber coming from a pit saw device at which two men toiled, one man in a pit under the log and another on top of the log, pulling the saw up and down, sawing off the slab and cutting the log into the desired lumber. Later a water powered saw mill was installed near the mouth of the canyon, a crude affair but it supplied the lumber to build up the town.

So life proceeded in that rustic little village of dirt roofed houses where new settlers were coming in gradually and establishing themselves as their predecessors were doing. On January 21, 1866, my brother James was born.

I have memories of my barefoot and stick horse days, of chilblains and measles, of sulfur and molasses, of animal cookies and red top boots for Christmas, of Indian scares, of a grass hopper invasion that darkened the sun and left nothing green but a lone bunch of horseradish. I remember the frigid winters and the roaring blizzards, also the merry social parties that were held during those tempestuous nights.

Sure I remember some torrential summer rain storms that caused the dirt roofed houses to leak badly necessitating the placing of pans, basins, tubs, etc. to protect beds and other furnishings from the deluge.

It was about this time that our family sustained a great loss in the passing of sister Eliza, a beautiful and intelligent, sweet-tempered girl of fourteen years. (Eliza was actually eleven years old.) While I was too young to know her well, I later learned from her intimate companions of her charming manners and delightful personality. Her passing was indeed a heart wrenching blow to the family.

When about six years of age I was sent to a private school taught by Old Lady Hyatt and her daughter Sarah. It was primitive of course. About the only item from that school that I have never forgotten was a mild reprimand that she gave me for something wrong that a little bird had told her of. One Friday afternoon a school party was given the children. The music for the occasion was furnished by the teacher who used a comb and paper as her instrument.

Later I attended a school held in an old log house just east of the amusement hall. It was conducted by an old man named Austin who soon after moved away. From then on I had a number of teachers, all of whom did the best they could under the handicap of primitive equipment which consisted of seats made of slabs with the flat side up and the bark side down and without desks, of few books or no books at all, of slates instead of note books, and all in a dingy log room, with rough floor and heated by an unpolished and sometimes cracked box stove.

Then followed the school experience under A.B. Strickland who proved to be a snarly ill-tempered old fellow for whom the pupils had no love at all. His punishments were severe and unjustified. He had the propensity of telling the young lady members of his school how badly their boy friends were conducting themselves who were working in the timbers. On their return the girls told them of the teachers statements. So one night more in the spirit of levity than of anger, a number of them entered the teachers sleeping quarters, dragged him from his bed, took him out into the street and ding-bumped him. Result? No school the next day. "Happy we."

A justice trial ensued. The boys received a reprimand and the incident passed to be remembered in snarly anger by one party, and in the spirit of jubilation by the other. I have known that teacher to compel boys to take off their coats so that the punishment may be more severe. He once punished my brother Parley for some imaginary offense. He had Parley on the floor on his back. With a hand to each ear, he pounded his head up and down on the floor. when he released the boys ears, his fingers were stained with blood. I saw the cruelty and heard my brother screaming with pain. I leaped over a bench thinking to rush to my brother's rescue, but I realized I would only make matters worse and perhaps be well night annihilated myself.

I attended the school taught by R.J.M. Bee, who was an excellent penman, and otherwise quite an intelligent man. While commending a composition that I had written, he pointed out certain features that he says that I would not want to be guilty of when I became a man. Thus drawing attention to the relationship of school work to future usefulness. Of course other teachers had sought to do the same thing, but Bee's encouraging appeal impressed me.

While attending a school conducted by Fred Bunn, I appeared one morning with my right hand in a sling. Would you like to know why? Well sir, I had been bitten by a mad dog. Our neighbors the Waads, who lived just across the street from our barn, kept a dog, a horrid creature, a cross between a greyhound and a bulldog, large, ugly and fierce. She had pups. The pups that were not wanted were supposedly killed and buried in a shallow hole. the warm earth revived them to the extent that the mother dog could hear them. She went crazy with rage.

I happened to be driving some cattle out of our stock yard and across the street when that vicious beast came at me like a demon from hell, frothing at the mouth, fangs gleaming, lashing herself with her tail, every hair on that horrid carcass bristling toward the ears, barking and growling in guttural savagery. I was small and defenseless. Instantly she caught my right hand in her mouth, tore the flesh from my thumb knuckles and put a fang through the center of my hand that left a scar even unto this day. My father informed Mr. Ward who readily gave his consent that the dog be killed. Accordingly, a few minutes later I heard the report of the gun fired by George H. Thornock that killed the beast.

The most lamentable effect of that incident was the fact that older people talked in my hearing of the dangers of hydrophobia. I might go crazy at any time. Some said I might live twenty years and then go mad. I heard such statements not once, but many times, and often from persons I thought knew.

Being young and impressionable, I suffered many forebodings. I'd sometimes wake at night in a fever of excitement, imagining myself going mad. Indeed it is something of a wonder that I retained any degree of mental balance at all.

Happy indeed when a few years later I learned of the viciousness and absolute absurdity of all those cruel superstitions that distressed imaginative children. I have ever since condemned the practice of harping on those ignorant superstitious in the presence of children.

It was along this time that the YMMIA was organized throughout the Church. In the Bear Lake Stake Hyrum Wooley became the first president. In Bloomington Joshua Jarvis was made the first president and my brother Moroni was the first secretary. I was admitted to membership in that first organization.

Meetings were held regularly and much interest taken even though no general programs were supplied. Each association depended on it's own resourcefulness for the quality and kind of its activities. A lively spirit of cooperation was awakened that manifested itself in the building of what was known as the Young Men's House, an amusement hall that was used for meetings and recreation.

In that hall George Osmond taught school one winter. I had the privilege of attending. His method of discipline were entirely different from those described above. He had the respect and confidence of his pupils and seemed to rule with east b the excellence of his own personality, and by the same means inspire his pupils with the desire to learn.

During the long cold winters when the country was wrapped in ice and snow, most of the men were idle perhaps for months because there was nothing that they could do. My father, however, being an expert weaver, set up a loom and wove jeans and lindsey for the people of the surrounding country who brought to him their homespun yarn. I became his bobbin winder. It was my task to wind the yard from skeins onto a kind of spools called bobbins. These the weaver placed in a shuttle which, by a clever device, he sent back and forth through the warp.

I remember my father complaining to Mrs. Sarah Rich, wife of Apostle C.C. Rich, about the poor quality of the yarn that she brought, stating that he felt it too bad that I should have so much trouble winding the bobbins particularly as I had been kept out of school that winter to do the work.

It was a splendid quality of cloth that my father made, some of it quite ornamental, some in stripes, some in plaids and some otherwise adorned. The cloth he made was used as blankets and many were clad in their Home Spun Jeans. From his account book which I later discovered, I found father had done $1300 worth of business during a rather short time and in the winter seasons when most men were idle.

When I was about eleven or twelve years of age, I accompanied my father and my brother Albert to Salt Lake City. Our wagon was loaded with produce. We were taking down a cow for Uncle George Dunford also a pair of black mares named Kate and Liz and that we had been using. They also belonged to Uncle George. It was my task to ride one of those mares and drive that cow. This I did from Bloomington to Salt Lake City. I have no recollection of a saddle, but of a very bony mare, and the resulting sensations which were somewhat modified by the fact that I soon became as hard and tough as a pony express rider.

Our journey proceeded tediously enough until we reached "Long Hollow" many miles south of Hardware Ranch, when a wheel broke down. We piled our load by the side of the road, placed a wagon cover over it, used a pole in place of the wheel and proceeded to Huntsville, thirty miles away.

in Huntsville we were entertained by Mr. McKay who let father take his wagon to go back after his load which took two days. I was left at McKay's while they were gone. The cow was put in a pasture. In going to milk her I had to cross a creek on a pole. Coming back my foot slipped and I whitened the stream with only a part of the mild. Mrs. McKay gave me dry clothes and made me comfortable. I thought she was the nicest lady I had ever seen. She was so kind to me. The bed I slept in was immaculate.

During the day with nothing else to do with a piece of chalk I printed the name of the town on a wide board that was on the fence. Mrs. McKay commended me quite heartily, but I had left off the final "e" from Huntsville. She suggested that correction.

When father and Albert returned Mr. McKay insisted that we take his wagon on to Ogden where we could have ours repaired. Reluctantly father consented because Mr. McKay would accept nothing for his quite extended accommodations. I hope some day to speak of the incident to President David O. McKay because I am quite sure those splendid people were his parents.

Reaching the city we left the cow and team with Uncle George who entertained us. We visited also with Alma who with Susie his wife, was living in Social Hall Lane. James, then about nine years old, had been with Alma all winter. He had attended school for a while. We remained in the city a number of days. They dressed me up in a suit borrowed from George D. Alder, and had me photographed. It was at this time that I had the privilege of playing on the foundation of the Salt Lake City Temple. Some parts of it were not yet above the ground. On our return home, Daisy the oldest daughter of my brother William went with us to spend the summer.

For several years after the first settlement, hay for livestock was cut with a scythe, and grain was cut with an implement called a cradle. It looked so pretty to see the hay fall from behind father's scythe. It so pleased me that I kept on monkeying with it until I could produce the same effect myself. As a result father took me into the field with him the next two haying seasons to help him mow the hay. The other boys, excepting Moroni, had not taken the same interest. Had not learned to wield the arm strong machine, so escaped the arduous task.

The month of May, 1869, was an important month in our family history, because in that month my sister Leah was born, while we were still living in the log house. She was the thirteenth child in my mothers family. She was the only one of five girls to survive. The only girl also, among five boys who were at home. She was a sweet and dearly beloved girl, who seemed not to have suffered temperamentally to any extent by being the only girl among a lot of rough boys.

About this time my father kept a band of sheep just a few hundred head that he sometimes sent off with other mens flock to a summer range. When not so sent, I had the privilege of acquiring some sheep herding experience.

While attending my flock on the face of the hill west of town, I could see the highway for miles. Sometimes day after day would pass without a team being seen along that highway. One day while playing in the groves near the crest of the hill, climbing trees, a limb broke and I came crashing down through the branches until a sharp knot caught me by the back of the head and held me until Johnnie Hansen and Abe Ward picked me off the limb. I went home with blood running down my back. I carried a lump and a scar for a few years.

I had the experience of training several yoke of steers for work, Brim and Saxe was one of them. I enjoyed the process of subjugating them and making them useful. I am happy to confess that I have always been an admirer of good horses. I have had the pleasure in using them, and in caring for them. It always gave me a thrill to handle wild horses, but never to ride bucking horses as that was not my method of handling them, but to train them sensibly for any useful purpose was my delight.

Comes now about the time when activities were started to the erection of our larger and better home. A Mr. Thomas Smedley, a fine old English gentleman was the brick maker. As part payment for the brick needed for our house, we had the privilege of hauling the wood to burn in the kiln to make brick. It was my privilege to go day after day with Moroni to haul that wood. It required a very long day to get a load from the canyon with an ox team and haul it to the kiln in the field below the mounds south of Paris Creek.

Those were the days before the railroad was extended from Utah points to Butte, Montana. In lieu thereof a stage line was maintained with stations at intervals of about ten to twenty miles, where stage horses were cared for and exchanged for fresh ones to continue on to succeeding points of exchange.

In supplying those stations with horse feed we had a splendid market for our oats and at an excellent price. Hence for several years we freighted our grain to the Snake River country.

After thrashing in the fall, all the people of the town who had oats for sale would form an ox team caravan and set out on the long trek to the stage line stations where the feed was needed. sometimes to Corbet Station where the city of Blackfoot now is. sometimes to Eagle Rock, that is now Idaho Falls. Sometimes to Sand Hole, Market Lake, or other stations up the line. In from five to ten days we would reach our destination, traveling about fifteen miles a day. We would deliver our loads then take up our long trip back home.

There was not city of Blackfoot then and Idaho Falls consisted of a toll station and a few cabins. It was quite an interesting experience to make that trip, with a merry bunch of fellow plodding along in the daytime, camping out at night, cooking our food by the open fire.

Often when in the Snake River Valley we encountered great freight trains of mules or oxen. Think of a mule team outfit with eight or ten span of mules drawing a train of three ponderous wagons loaded to the gunwales. It was interesting to see those oxen assembled and yoked, hitched in place, and started on the way. It required a untied pull to move the load. Remember there was a long line of them, perhaps ten yoke, extending out there for about two hundred yards. Of all the whooping, yelling cursing and searing, with the popping of bull whips, you'd early get the impression that those drivers were not goody-goody Sunday School Boys.

Sometimes it would take a half hour to get underway. The bull whackers became so expert with the bull whip that they could peel off the hair and sometimes the hide every pop. Some of the oxen were scarred up terribly. I once drove a team to the Snake River Country for Old Man Rasmussen, accompanying Pete who drove another team. In the same company was Peter Krogue, Dave Krogue, Dave Nelson, Charley Christensen, Ira Osmond and others.

On nearing home from one of our trips, just for a little diversion, we chained all our ten wagons together, one behind the other, and hitched all our oxen, about fifteen yoke, to the train of wagons making an outfit more than a block long, and thus we drove through the towns, much to the amusement of all observers as well as to ourselves. It might be stated that we had some difficulty in negotiating turns in the road, particularly if a bridge were in the way. All the proceeds from the sale of our loads were sent to George Osmond, who as agent for the company, settle for them. The money thus obtained by my father was used largely in building his operation. And in about the year 1876, that construction work actually began on our new home, which was to be built of brick and proved to be the first two story building in the community.

____________________________________________________________________

Obituary of Oliver Cowdery Dunford, published in The Paris Post, January 28, 1943:

Bear Lake County Mourns Loss of a Pioneer Citizen

On Monday evening, January 18th at Bloomington, Bear Lake County lost one of its most illustrious citizens. The long vibrant life of O.C. Dunford came to a sudden close in the manner that he himself would have chosen--while doing his evening chores about the family home. While for the past several years he has suffered periodically with some chest restrictions, he himself had frequently declared "there has never been anything wrong with me that a good night's rest wouldn't cure."

A short time before his body was discovered by his grandson, Harold Dunford, he had left the house to be about his evening chores. He had romped with his grandchildren just before leaving and except for complaining that the terrific cold was telling upon him, he made no complaint of feeling distressed.

He leaves surviving him, his widow, Ida Dunford, six sons, Rao B. Dunford, a teacher at Georgetown, William Stanley Dunford, District Attorney at Provo, Utah, Ralph O. Dunford, a beautician of Alameda, California, George O. Dunford, principal of Shelley Stake LDS Seminary, and Isaac Dunford, who for the past number of years has supervised the ranch at Bloomington, and who at the time of his father's sudden death was employed by the UPM Co. Contractors at the huge steel plant at Provo, Utah; four daughters, Hazel D. Haddock, engaged with her husband in the mercantile business at Paris, Idaho, Mabel D. Woolley, a beautician of Oakland, California, Maud Della Briscoe, engaged in a laundry business with her husband in Oakland, California, and Ida D. O'Brien, Accounts Receivable Clerk for Cotant Truck Lines in San Francisco, California. One brother, James L. Dunford of Paris, is the last surviving member of their family of thirteen splendid children. (Editor's note: Oliver's son, Alma Teller, was inadvertently omitted from this obituary.)

O.C. Dunford, since he was a year old, at which time his parents brought him to Bloomington from St. Louis, Missouri, his birthplace, has resided in the old Dunford home. But in his activities as a teacher, a public officer and a rancher, he has acquired an unusually wide acquaintance throughout the southern part of Idaho, northern Utah, and the "Bay Region" of California.

For more than thirty years Mr. Dunford was a teacher in the schools of Bear Lake county, and at some period or another in his long career, has taught in most of the school districts of the county. In all places where he taught, he was interested in church and community activities. Since he quit teaching to devote his entire energies to his rather extensive ranch, he has held numerous positions of trust in the Latter Day Saints church, through all of which he has made friends and acquaintances with practically every person in the valley.

Mr. Dunford was essentially a pioneer. His greatest desire was to subject to use forces for good which had not been theretofore employed. He counted any man a success who could make "two blades of grass grow where only one grew before," and proceeded in his progressive spirit in everything he undertook. Many acres of land have contributed to the welfare of the country because he broke them out of the sagebrush and reduced them to their first service.

He assisted in the first incorporation of the Village of Bloomington, laying out the town and designating its boundaries, and became the first clerk of the village board. He figured prominently in every forward looking activity of the community thereafter.

He was always sincere in his religious convictions. On October 28, 1889, after completing arrangements to study law at Ann Arbor, Michigan, he willingly rejected these plans in favor of a call for missionary service from his church, and he and his bride left their home in Bloomington and took passage for the islands of New Zealand. After over three years in the islands, during which time their first son, Rao, was born, the young couple returned home to find such multiplied burdens of family life and debt that he was compelled to finally abandon his ambition to make law his profession. Long years later, after his family had reached maturity, he was called to fill another mission in the Eastern States.

Mr. Dunford was a splendid traveler and had the capacity to enjoy far places and new experiences. He had a fine command of language and a willingness to write, and many of his friends were carried along with him in his travels by his vivid description of strange and distant scenes.

A field of his written expression, which possibly is not as well known as his travelogues, is poetry. He was somewhat modest where his verse was concerned, and while in his speaking and prose writing he frequently made use of his poetic compositions, he was always careful not to disclose their origin. He leaves many gems of his pen which reflect the effervescent joy of his living.

To his large family of children and grandchildren and great grandchildren of which there are forty-eight, he was always a model of cheerfulness, industry, devotion, ambition, determination and good fellowship. The large number of the general public who knew him as friend felt his sterling qualities. He was a warrior against evil, sordidness, and gloom, and many friends and strangers experience the uplift of his cheerful, kindly nature.

The devotion of relatives and friends was evidenced at the funeral services held in the Bloomington chapel January 22nd. Even though the weather was somewhat forbidding, the house was packed.

Bishop J.P. Patterson presided at the beautiful and impressive services. George H. Ward pronounced the invocation.

The ward choir, under the direction of a. O. Christensen, sang "Oh My Father"; Max Haddock sang "In My Father's House"; a male quartet composted of Max Haddock, Melvin Hulme, Ray Piggott, and Hulme Dunford sang "Lead Kindly Light" and "The Teacher's Work is Done." Words of tribute and condolence were spoken by President A. A. Hart, G.E. Hulme, Letha D. Maden, and Bishop Patterson. Benediction was given by A.O. Christensen.

Interment was in the Bloomington Cemetery with the grave being dedicated by T.R. Ward.

In Appreciation

To the many relatives and friends who called at the home and who contributed beautiful floral pieces and who otherwise aided and assisted us during our recent bereavement, we take this method to express our heartfelt thanks and appreciation.

Mrs. Ida Dunford and family.

Endnote

I.A. Rex and James D. Dunford are grandsons of Oliver through his son Alma Teller.

-------------------- Obituary of Oliver Cowdery Dunford, published in The Paris Post, January 28, 1943:

Bear Lake County Mourns Loss of a Pioneer Citizen

On Monday evening, January 18th at Bloomington, Bear Lake County lost one of its most illustrious citizens. The long vibrant life of O.C. Dunford came to a sudden close in the manner that he himself would have chosen--while doing his evening chores about the family home. While for the past several years he has suffered periodically with some chest restrictions, he himself had frequently declared "there has never been anything wrong with me that a good night's rest wouldn't cure."

A short time before his body was discovered by his grandson, Harold Dunford, he had left the house to be about his evening chores. He had romped with his grandchildren just before leaving and except for complaining that the terrific cold was telling upon him, he made no complaint of feeling distressed.

He leaves surviving him, his widow, Ida Dunford, six sons, Rao B. Dunford, a teacher at Georgetown, William Stanley Dunford, District Attorney at Provo, Utah, Ralph O. Dunford, a beautician of Alameda, California, George O. Dunford, principal of Shelley Stake LDS Seminary, and Isaac Dunford, who for the past number of years has supervised the ranch at Bloomington, and who at the time of his father's sudden death was employed by the UPM Co. Contractors at the huge steel plant at Provo, Utah; four daughters, Hazel D. Haddock, engaged with her husband in the mercantile business at Paris, Idaho, Mabel D. Woolley, a beautician of Oakland, California, Maud Della Briscoe, engaged in a laundry business with her husband in Oakland, California, and Ida D. O'Brien, Accounts Receivable Clerk for Cotant Truck Lines in San Francisco, California. One brother, James L. Dunford of Paris, is the last surviving member of their family of thirteen splendid children. (Editor's note: Oliver's son, Alma Teller, was inadvertently omitted from this obituary.)

O.C. Dunford, since he was a year old, at which time his parents brought him to Bloomington from St. Louis, Missouri, his birthplace, has resided in the old Dunford home. But in his activities as a teacher, a public officer and a rancher, he has acquired an unusually wide acquaintance throughout the southern part of Idaho, northern Utah, and the "Bay Region" of California.

For more than thirty years Mr. Dunford was a teacher in the schools of Bear Lake county, and at some period or another in his long career, has taught in most of the school districts of the county. In all places where he taught, he was interested in church and community activities. Since he quit teaching to devote his entire energies to his rather extensive ranch, he has held numerous positions of trust in the Latter Day Saints church, through all of which he has made friends and acquaintances with practically every person in the valley.

Mr. Dunford was essentially a pioneer. His greatest desire was to subject to use forces for good which had not been theretofore employed. He counted any man a success who could make "two blades of grass grow where only one grew before," and proceeded in his progressive spirit in everything he undertook. Many acres of land have contributed to the welfare of the country because he broke them out of the sagebrush and reduced them to their first service.

He assisted in the first incorporation of the Village of Bloomington, laying out the town and designating its boundaries, and became the first clerk of the village board. He figured prominently in every forward looking activity of the community thereafter.

He was always sincere in his religious convictions. On October 28, 1889, after completing arrangements to study law at Ann Arbor, Michigan, he willingly rejected these plans in favor of a call for missionary service from his church, and he and his bride left their home in Bloomington and took passage for the islands of New Zealand. After over three years in the islands, during which time their first son, Rao, was born, the young couple returned home to find such multiplied burdens of family life and debt that he was compelled to finally abandon his ambition to make law his profession. Long years later, after his family had reached maturity, he was called to fill another mission in the Eastern States.

Mr. Dunford was a splendid traveler and had the capacity to enjoy far places and new experiences. He had a fine command of language and a willingness to write, and many of his friends were carried along with him in his travels by his vivid description of strange and distant scenes.

A field of his written expression, which possibly is not as well known as his travelogues, is poetry. He was somewhat modest where his verse was concerned, and while in his speaking and prose writing he frequently made use of his poetic compositions, he was always careful not to disclose their origin. He leaves many gems of his pen which reflect the effervescent joy of his living.

To his large family of children and grandchildren and great grandchildren of which there are forty-eight, he was always a model of cheerfulness, industry, devotion, ambition, determination and good fellowship. The large number of the general public who knew him as friend felt his sterling qualities. He was a warrior against evil, sordidness, and gloom, and many friends and strangers experience the uplift of his cheerful, kindly nature.

The devotion of relatives and friends was evidenced at the funeral services held in the Bloomington chapel January 22nd. Even though the weather was somewhat forbidding, the house was packed.

Bishop J.P. Patterson presided at the beautiful and impressive services. George H. Ward pronounced the invocation.

The ward choir, under the direction of a. O. Christensen, sang "Oh My Father"; Max Haddock sang "In My Father's House"; a male quartet composted of Max Haddock, Melvin Hulme, Ray Piggott, and Hulme Dunford sang "Lead Kindly Light" and "The Teacher's Work is Done." Words of tribute and condolence were spoken by President A. A. Hart, G.E. Hulme, Letha D. Maden, and Bishop Patterson. Benediction was given by A.O. Christensen.

Interment was in the Bloomington Cemetery with the grave being dedicated by T.R. Ward.

In Appreciation

To the many relatives and friends who called at the home and who contributed beautiful floral pieces and who otherwise aided and assisted us during our recent bereavement, we take this method to express our heartfelt thanks and appreciation.

Mrs. Ida Dunford and family.

Endnote

I.A. Rex and James D. Dunford are grandsons of Oliver through his son Alma Teller.

view all 15

Oliver Dunford's Timeline

1863
October 11, 1863
St Louis, MO, USA
1891
April 25, 1891
Age 27
1893
September 13, 1893
Age 29
Bloomington, Bear Lake, Idaho, United States
1895
September 18, 1895
Age 31
Bloominton, Idaho, United States
1897
June 17, 1897
Age 33
1900
July 1, 1900
Age 36
Bloomington, Bear Lake, Idaho, United States
1901
June 9, 1901
Age 37
Bloomington, Bear Lake, Idaho, United States
1903
September 9, 1903
Age 39
Bloomington, Bear Lake, Idaho, United States
1905
December 6, 1905
Age 42
Bloomington, Bear Lake, Idaho, United States