Albert Caleb Black

Albert Caleb Black was the son of William Valentine Black and Victoria Petty Black, and was their thirteenth child. In the 1880 U.S. Federal Census for Deseret, Millard County, Utah, he was one year old and living with his parents and siblings, listed as follows: William V., 47, Victoria, 40, Almira, 22, William V., 20, Lucinda C., 19, George A., 19, Agnes, 18, Annie E., 15, Fannie C., 13, Eleanor, 12, Heber, 11, Joseph, 9, Clara, 5, and Victoria, 3. Also in the home was Victoria's mother, Lucinda Petty, 64, and brother, Albert Petty, 26. William's parents were both born in Ireland and Victoria's parents were both born in New Jersey. Albert's father, William, was working as a farmer, and his sons, William V., Jr., and George A., were also working on the family farm. Albert's uncle, Albert Petty, was working as a cabinet maker.

The family was still living in Deseret in the 1900 census, which shows that Albert's father, William, had immigrated to America in 1841. He was still working as a farmer, as were some of his sons, and Albert was working as a laborer. The family owned their farm free from a mortgage. By 1910, William, 78, Victoria, 70, Albert, 32, Lois, 16 and Oril, 6, (the son of Lois ?) were the only members in the family still living in their Deseret home. William and Victoria had been married for 54 years, had 15 children, 9 of whom were still living. William was still farming, and Albert was working as a laborer on the home farm. Not long after the census was taken that year, Albert married Elizabeth Helen Powell in Salt Lake City, Utah.

When Albert Caleb Black completed his U.S. World War I Draft Registration Card in Murray, Utah, on September 12, 1918, he was 39 years old and described himself as being of medium height and build with blue eyes and brown hair. He was living in Sandy, Utah, with his wife, Elizabeth Helen Powell Black, and working as a traveling salesman for De Laval Separator Company.

In the 1920 U.S. Federal Census for Afton, Lincoln, Wyoming, Albert, 41, and Helen, 31, are living with their children, Mary Powell Black, 6, Albert Leo Black, 3 year, 8 months, and Helen Black, 5 months old. They owned their home free from a mortgage and Albert was working as the manager of a creamery.

By 1940, the family was living in Ogden, Weber, Utah, Albert, 50, Helen E., 40, Mary P., 15, A. Leo, 12, Helen, 10, Robert C., 6, and Norma, 3 years, 3 months old. They owned their own home valued at $10,000 and had a radio in their home. Albert was working as the director of a dairy. He and Helen had been married for 20 years.

In the 1940 census, the family was living in Midvale, Salt Lake County, Utah at 145 Lincoln Street in a home they owned valued at $4,500. They were listed as: Albert, 60, Helen, 50, Leo, 22, Helen, 20, Norma, 13, and their daughter, Mary Powell Black, 25, had married Joseph Slade Rollins, 24, who were living with them. Albert was working as the proprietor of a feed store, and Leo was working as a laborer at an ice cream plant. No occupation was listed for Joseph Slade Rollins, nor his wife, Mary Powell Black Rollins.

The next year on March 4, 1941, Mary and Joseph had a daughter, Annette. Nine weeks later, they were in California, visiting Joseph's family, when Mary passed away from Rheumatic Fever. Their daughter, Annette, was sent back to Utah to live with her grandfather, Albert and his wife Helen. Following Albert's life story below, written by one of his children, is an account by Annette of her life with her grandfather, Albert Caleb Black, which is very touching.

Following is the history of Albert Caleb Black, written by one of his children, probably Helen or Leo Black:

I was born in Deseret, Utah, October 12, 1878. I attended school in Deseret until I was 13 years old then went to work in the mines at Drum which is 30 miles northwest of Deseret, and worked there for two years. At the age of 16 I went to Nevada and worked on a ranch at White River, 35 miles southwest of Ely, for two years. The next two years I attended school at the Brigham Young University, but was unable to make enough money during my vacation to return to school, so for the next four years I worked in the mines and on ranches, or any place I could to make a living. In 1904 I again attended the B.Y.U.

In the spring of 1907 I was called to the Swiss German Mission and I left on October second. We sailed from Boston, and landed in Liverpool. At Liverpool it was decided that I was to go to the Irish Mission instead of the Swiss German. I labored there until November 1909. On arriving home I went to work again in the mines.

In June 1910, I was married to Helen Powell of Sandy. We then went to Deseret and tried farming for one year, then moved to Knightsville and worked in the mines. In the summer of 1911 we moved to Provo and I worked in the Jesse Knight tunnel just above where the smelter is now. In February 1912 I went to work for the De Laval Separator Company. First I worked in Utah for a few months, then moved to Pocatello where I assisted Lon (his brother) in the De Laval work. I then took charge of the Montana territory for the De Laval people. We lived in Helena until 1917 when we moved to Sandy and took charge of De Laval work in Utah.

In 1919 we moved to Star Valley, Wyoming, to take charge of a group of creameries. We stayed there until the Spring of 1926 when we moved to Ogden, Utah. We lived in Ogden and I worked in Ogden and Salt Lake dairies until 1931 when we moved to Delta to take charge of the Shepherd creameries at Delta, Beaver, and Kanosh. In September of 1937 Dr. Shepherd sold his creameries, so we bought the George Boskovich feed store at Midvale. This is where we are at the present time.

I have always been active in church work. In Ogden I was a counselor to Bishop David J. Wilson in the Ogden Twelfth Ward. In Delta I was Stake President in the Mutual and worked in the scouts. On February 8, 1935, I received a Silver Beaver award for scout work. Receiving this honor was one of the biggest thrills of my life. In all of the other wards I have lived in I have been a teacher in the organizations of the church.

My father's name was William Black, my grandfather's name was William Black and his father's name was William Black. My great grandfather married Sarah Chamberlin. They came from some place in northern France to Ireland among the very early linen workers of Ireland. My great grandfather was a minister of one of the organizers of the Methodist churches. Both he and his wife were buried in Lisborn Ireland. My grandfather William Black married Jane Johnston. Her father was also a minister and a very close friend of my grandfather.

Both the above and the following were found on Family Search.org:

Memories of my Grandfather, Albert Caleb Black, by Annette Rollins Brantzeg, written sometime in 2002:

My relationship to Grandpa was unique. He was my maternal grandfather but in reality he was my father. I was the only child of his oldest daughter, Mary Powell Black Rollins. When I was 9 weeks old my mother died suddenly. What we suppose is she had sub-clinical Rheumatic Fever sometime in her youth and mitral valve damage was done to her heart. This is a common result of untreated Rheumatic Fever. In those days there was no penicillin so the disease ran it’s course. The pregnancy was a terrible drain on her heart and it gave out May 14, 1941. I lived in Midvale with the Black's until I was 10 months old and went to California to live with my father, Joseph Slade Rollins, and his new wife Jennie Wiletta White. When I was four years old the marriage broke up, and I was returned to Salt Lake again to the Black home. There I remained until my marriage in 1961 to George Maurice Brantzeg.

Grandpa was the wisest individual I ever knew. He was very intelligent, dedicated and had a wonderful sense of humor. He could read people and had an uncanny understanding about them. He loved people and delighted in his associations and acquaintances. He was a hard worker. He loved to read and was a dedicated student of the gospel. He was a man of impeccable integrity and zeroed in on true facts whether they were painful or not. In my teens I became very friendly with a girl a year older than I. We ran around together and did a lot of activities, including sluffing school to write a paper. He took me aside one day and said, “Annette, don’t get too thick with Linda. She doesn’t know how to think.” His advice was right on, of course, as I learned in later years. He counseled seldom, but when he did you really listened because you knew it was in your best interest.

Grandpa loved his sweets. He loved sugar. He piled sugar on sliced tomatoes (about ¼ of an inch) and proclaimed that the only way to eat them. He loved a sugar sandwich…a slice of good white homemade bread, spread with butter and a generous layer of sugar. Due to advanced years and his love of sugar he wore his teeth down to the gums . He finally went to the dentist and had them removed. For a long time he gummed his food and he could eat anything. He would cut the corn off the cob, cut meat in tiny pieces and gum away. He had no fears about food.

If we found a bottle of fruit that was fizzy and suspicious he would stop us from throwing it away and would eat it. I never remember him sick, maybe a slight cold now and then but not really ill. His patriarchal blessing stated he had been blessed with a perfect body. Perfect translates to extremely healthy and except for the TB scare, which he didn’t have, he lived a very healthy and active life right to the last at age 88.

After he had been “toothless” for years and had gums of leather he decided to go to the dentist to get some teeth. I came home from school one day and he stood there with his back to me. He turned around and smiled and shocked the socks off me. He looked like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. The biggest, whitest smile I had ever seen. It elongated his face and I couldn’t see Grandpa there. My response was of disbelief. For whatever reason he took them out and placed them on the little glass corner shelf in the bathroom and never put them in again.

His favorite Sunday night snack was homemade white bread crumbled into whole vitamin D milk. He couldn’t get enough cream in his milk to suit him. Early we got our milk from Hogan dairy. They delivered the milk a couple of times a week. We always got the quart glass bottles of milk with a couple inches of cream on the top. If Grandma were going to make something special she would pour off the cream and would have it to whip for the sweet dish. Mostly Grandpa would shake it up in the milk and drink it saying, “Now that’s milk”. When we flew to Hawaii he ordered milk with his meal then collected everybody’s coffee cream and dumped it into his glass, stirred it up and again declared, “Now that’s milk.”

Grandpa loved pies. His very first favorite was gooseberry but his next favorite is the one he usually got. It was hot steamy apple pie with a slice of cheese melting on the top. He always wanted pie. He would pay me two dollars a pie to make one for him. I certainly learned to do pie. Pie crust isn’t the easiest thing to make but I learned using the standard Crisco recipe. I never knew if he really liked my pies or he was using another little unique way to get me involved in cooking. Whatever, I did learn to cook and that was not one of the adjustments I had to make when I got married.

I decided I wanted to learn to make bread. Grandma made wonderful white flour bread. I’ll never forget that wonderful aroma that greeted me after school on her bread making days. Well, my attempt. I worked so hard and was so proud of my little loaf. Grandpa lifted it up, looked it over and said, “Keep it up. After awhile we’ll have enough to build a house.” That made me mad….so I perfected making bread. No more brick like loaves.

Grandpa loved to teach and was a good teacher. When he was custodian of the Midvale First Ward I would come home for weekends. I was a student at BYU at the time and Helen was progressing in her illness that was later diagnosed as multiple sclerosis. It was necessary for me to come home and shop, cook and clean, then drive back to school on Sunday night. During this time Grandpa decided that it was important that I learn to teach. He would say, “There is nothing you can do in your life that is more important than teaching, so I am going to teach you to teach.” He would take me to all kinds of classes and we would discuss the technique the teacher used, the successes and failures of the presentation. I sat in the back of Gospel Doctrine class and Grandpa would dissect Harry S. Wright’s lessons. I would sit in the back of priesthood classes. This went on for many months. I remember how he valued directness, good examples (Grandpa was good at allegories) and wit.

When we were in Hawaii we attended Sunday School in Honolulu. The Gospel Doctrine teacher made the comment that only the most righteous and good die young. Grandpa stood up and said, “Now hold on there, what does that make me?” (he was 88). Of course the whole class laughed and the poor teacher scrambled to recover. Another example of his great life changing teaching ability occurred in the time he was custodian of the ward . The building was only a couple of blocks away and Grandpa always would walk north on Lincoln Street to 6th Avenue and west on 6th Avenue to the chapel. One day he “got a bee in his bonnet” as he would say and he walked over on Jefferson Street and rang the bell at the home of Casey and Grace Nelson. They were a mature couple, their two children having grown and gone. Casey answered the door and replied “Brother Black, how nice to see you. Please come in.” Grandpa replied “You won’t think so when you know why I came.” Grandpa sat down and proceeded. “Well, it is obvious you don’t think too much of your wife. She is a good woman and deserves better. My wife is gone now so I have come for Grace.”

Casey was stunned. “Well of all the nerve. What do you mean?” “It is obvious you don’t love her enough, you have not taken her to the temple.” Casey was a very prominent man in the community and was partially active. Grandpa’s visit was a serious wake-up call and Casey accepted the challenge. He became active and eventually took his wife to the temple. Casey spoke at Grandpa’s funeral telling this classic story. Many years later I received Grace’s history in booklet form. The story is told there. It was a defining moment in their lives.

Grandpa loved the “wrestling matches”. In 1953 he bought our first TV and wrestling was a formidable event in the budding TV world. Even though it was obviously staged and quite ridiculous Grandpa really got into it sitting on the edge of the couch swinging his arms and offering advice and criticism of his man. I hated the wrestling shows. They were dumb and he was noisy, but he had fun.

Grandpa loved to sleep in the floor. It made his back feel good. On summer evenings he loved to go out and lay on the grass in the front yard. He would sleep there when the shade was on the lawn. The house faced east and we would get the evening shade. He loved it. Especially when the neighbor ladies would gather round all worried that he was all right. He would come in laughing recalling how they would stand around and whisper to each other “Is he dead?” “What should we do?” “You touch him to see if he’s all right.” Grandpa would then “raise up” and give them quite a shock.

Grandpa took wonderful care of the front and side yard. The lawn (Kentucky Blue) was thick, green and soft. He mowed (unless he could talk me into it), watered, fertilized and produced the prettiest lawn in the neighborhood. He planted pyracantha bushes along the porch in the front. They had huge thorns and were horrible to prune or land in if you didn’t jump high enough and far enough when jumping from the porch over them, a favorite kid’s challenge. In the spring they were covered with white blossoms and in the fall beautiful orange berries. There was a two-foot space along the south side of the house between the house and the little walkway. There he had planted a bleeding heart bush, and usually grew zinnias. Sometimes he would put up a string trellis and plant Sweet Peas with their heavenly fragrance. Some years he filled the space with Snap Dragons. I loved to make them “talk” by squeezing the sides together and the little “mouths” would open. On the north side he planted right next to the porch a “Flowering Almond” bush. In the spring it was thick with beautiful pink blossoms. Next to it was a Honey Suckle bush. If you picked a little white flower and carefully pulled out the stamen you would find a drop of sweet nectar on the end. Past the Honey Suckle bush he had Lilacs and in the back Holly Hocks. It was a smell from heaven.

But he refused to do anything with the back yard. Why should he waste good water and energy on it because you couldn’t see it from the front? We had a patch of rose bushes he tended, but refused to deal with the back lawn. It really bugged me . I liked to go lay out in the back yard where there was privacy and the scratchy dry brown lawn was awful . We had a wonderful apricot tree back there too. When it produced Grandma would bottle them and make apricot nectar. It was wonderful, thick and sweet.

When we would come out all decked out to go to church he would whistle and sing: “Where did you get that hat, where did you get that tie….” I don’t remember the rest of the words. He sang another funny little song: “Oh, I ran around the corner And I ran around the block And I ran right in to a donut shop. I took two donuts right out of the grease And handed the lady a five cent piece. She looked at the nickel and she looked at me She said this nickel’s no good to me There’s a hole in the middle and it goes right thru Said I, there’s a hole in the donut too. Thanks for the donut….so long!”

Grandpa loved to have lively arguments. Nothing pleased him more than to nail you on a gospel principle. He and our neighbor Harry Wright would frequently go at it standing on the sidewalk in front. Of course we all knew Grandpa won. He had a tremendous knowledge of the gospel and combined with his great wisdom you couldn’t win even if you wanted to.

Grandpa loved to walk and would take long walks all over and visit with anyone he met. He never met a stranger and everybody loved to visit with “Brother Black.”

When we got the phone call that Leo had died Grandpa went to the couch and sat with his face in his hands. The only time I saw him cry. He kept saying, “Why couldn’t it have been me instead.” He immediately went to Milwaukee to be with Lillian and the children. He was always concerned for them. On his meager earnings he accumulated about $15,000.00 to give to her to help see her children educated. He left Norma the house for her inheritance and he told me he wasn’t going to leave me anything because George would always take care of me. He did give me the dining room set and the TV and the set of (blue?) willow china dishes that belonged to Grandma. The TV is long gone but I treasure the dining room set and the china.

Late in his life he came to visit me in Bountiful. At the time I had two little girls, Adrienne about 2 ½ and Andrea just beginning to crawl. We were sitting on the couch watching them play. He said, “You know, I can’t help but feel that these two girls were assigned to your mother to bring into the world, but because she passed they were reassigned to you.” His insight touched me deeply.

Even his death told of his great character. At the age of 88, he was hit by a milk truck while crossing the street. I guess he figured he could beat it. His injuries were substantial and he died two days later. They missed diagnosing a fracture in the neck region and he turned his head and was gone. He was a great man. He lived a great life.

The attribute I most wanted to develop in myself that I came to respect in my grandfather was his great wisdom and understanding. I have always prayed for that gift. I am so grateful for his wonderful influence in my life. I miss him still but his life and teachings live on. Our youngest son Steve was born 100 years after Grandpa. Grandpa was born in 1878, Steve in 1978. We named Steve, Steven Albert Brantzeg. All his life I have told him about his Grandpa Albert. Steve now says how Grandpa became his hero and his model. His influence lives on.

The following autobiography of Albert Caleb Black was found on Family Search.org:

Autobiography of Albert C. Black (Written 1964): While I was attending the Brigham Young University in 1907, Seymor B. Young visited the school looking for missionaries. He called me in but I told him I couldn’t possibly go because I had no money and my parents could not help me. He said if I really wanted to go he would guarantee that I would have enough money by the time I was to leave. My call came the latter part of February. On the first day of March I left school to find work. I started to go to Salt Lake, but as I went through Sandy I was impressed to get off the train, so I did and I caught the stage for Alta, I had worked there before. I got in Alta at noon and went to work at the Columbus mine at 4:00 PM that day.

At lunch time that evening the mine superintendent came in and asked if I would like to go to work on a contract. He said that three men had taken a contract on the South Columbus to run that tunnel 1400 feet, the company paid them $8.00 per foot and furnished everything. They had asked the superintendent to select another man to join with them. I took the job and went to work the next morning. By October 2nd when I left for my mission I had enough money with what my folks could raise to see me through.

I left for my mission October 2, 1907. There were 70 missionaries in the party. At Fort Wayne the train stopped, someone told me it would be there ten minutes so I went to get something to eat and the train left me. I had less than a dollar in my pocket and I was sure lost. As I walked down the platform I saw a sign “Superintendent’s Office” so I went in and told him my troubles. He got busy over the phone and confirmed my story, then he put me on the next train. It was a fast train and when the missionaries pulled into the depot at Niagra I was there waiting for them, and were they surprised. We sailed from Boston. After leaving the wide, straight streets in Salt Lake we were sure surprised to see the narrow crooked streets of Boston.

My mission call was to Holland, but as we got near the Irish coast they started kidding me about getting off. As we pulled in to the Cork Harbor they grabbed me and were going to throw me off. We landed at Liverpool and after about an hour of sightseeing, President Penrose called us into a meeting. He said he needed a missionary to go into Ireland and asked for a volunteer but no one volunteered so he pointed to me and said, “What’s your name?” I said, “Black.” He said, “You look like an Irishman, stand up. Have you any objection?” I said I didn’t have. He said, “Go with Brother Smith and he will put you on a boat for Ireland.”

So I landed in Bedfast the next morning. I got a cab to take me to the office. I asked the driver what I owed him and he said, “one and six”. I had no idea what one and six was so I just put all my small change out for him and let him take what he wanted. You can bet he took plenty. Sunday morning I was assigned to Ballymena to labor with Elder Nevell. The next Sunday evening we held a street meeting, about ten people stopped to listen. We sang “High on the Mountain Top” and neither one of us could carry a tune in a bucket. Elder Nevell got out and preached while I laughed. When he got through he said, “Now you preach and I will laugh.”

I labored with Elder Nevell about two months then they sent Elder Spolkman to labor with me. He had herded sheep all his life, never went to school and could hardly read. I read his sermons to him then he would go out on the street and repeat them. He had a fine memory but we were just not getting any place, so I wrote to President Brough and suggested he send some one else to labor with Elder Spolkman as we just couldn’t do it. He answered that God had called us in that field and if we would get in touch with Him He would make us equal to anything we had to meet. We went to our room, got on our knees and told our troubles to our Heavenly Father.

As we prayed, we both felt heat just like you had a strong lamp at the back of our neck and when we got up from there we felt sure we could meet any one. We had been meeting with six men who called themselves the United Brethren, and they sure knew the scriptures. They used to whip us every day, but this day we could answer any question they had and they were amazed. Two of them finally joined the Church. We never had any trouble after that.

In December of 1909 I was released. I sent home and got a job in the mines. I worked there until June 1910 when I got married. I was married to Helen Powell from Sandy, Utah. We were married in the Salt Lake Temple in June 1910. Shortly after our marriage we moved to Deseret, Millard County, Utah, where we took care of my father’s farm for one year. We then moved to Knightsville in Juab County where I worked in Jessie Knight’s Iron Blossom Mine for about a year. We were then transferred to Provo where I worked in Knight’s tunnel about a mile south of Provo in the east mountain.

This marriage proved to be the finest thing in my life. My wife was strictly honest and hated anything that even shadowed on dishonesty and couldn’t stand anything that led to dirty or unclean thoughts. I had always been very careless in these things and she had a very great influence on my life. She was a wonderful mother and had a great influence on the lives of our children.

It was in 1911 that I started work for the DeLaval Separator Company. This work caused me to move around a lot and kept me away from home a great deal and prevented me from doing very much church work, but the contact I had with businessmen, farmers, and all classes of men was a great training course for me. I started work for the DeLaval Company as an assistant to Dave Shupe in Salt Lake. I was transferred to Pocatello, Idaho, where I worked as assistant to my brother, Lon, for a short time then they transferred me to Helena, Montana, where I was superintendent of the work in the south half of Montana. There I came in contact with the Mormon Missionaries who made our home their headquarters. Melvin J. Ballard, who was mission president stayed with us many times. These contacts had a great influence on our religious lives.

My brother and I used to attend a salesman’s convention in Chicago every fall. There would be more than 400 salesmen there and as we were the only Mormons and did not use tobacco or drink hard liquor we became quite the center for discussion at times. When they all lined up at the bar to take their drinks Lon and I always took soft drinks, but one night some of the wise guys were going to make us take the whiskey. They took our glasses and filled them with booze and were going to pour it down us, but the old faithful’s stood by us and said, “Oh, no, not unless they want it.” There was one wise guy from Wisconsin always bringing up something about the Mormons to embarrass us.

One night the hotel lobby was crowded and this fellow yelled out, “Let’s have Black tell us how many wives Brigham Young had and how he got along with them.” And he yelled, “stand up.” So I got up and said, “I don’t know how many wives he had, but my father said he had wives enough of his own that he left his neighbor’s wife along. Do you do that?” And I tapped him on the shoulder. Everybody knew that he was quite a woman chaser and after that they would say “Do you do that?” He didn’t bother us after that.

We got a great experience out of these conventions and discussions. Because of our early church experience we were able to hold our own in any discussion and we grew very fast with the company. During one of our convention meetings they were discussing Utah. The sales manager said it looked like they would have to pull out of Utah as they were getting very little business and most of it was sold on notes then the people wouldn’t pay them. This burned me up, it was my state and my people they were talking about. I got on my feet and said, “Mr. Rundall, if you want to listen to me I can tell you just where your troubles are coming from.” He said, “All right Mr. Black, that’s what we want.” I said, “I know of one occasion when the Hotel Utah ran one of your salesmen out because he was so filthy in his dress, he smelled. You have been sending the cheapest types of salesmen out there and they have been getting cheap business. Their agents were barbers, dressmakers, garage men; they couldn’t get into the better business houses. They spent their spare time in saloons and pool halls.

A few days later the president of the company called me into his office and thanked me for what I said. He said, “We have been checking it up and find you are right and we are going to correct it. About a year later I got a wire asking me to come into Chicago. When I opened the door there was the president, the sales manager, and all the big bugs of the company. I felt just what was up and thought here is where my big mouth got me in trouble. The sales manager started the meeting by telling what they had been doing the last year. He said, “We have made a thorough survey of the entire state and find there is plenty of good business there, but we are not getting it. Can you suggest a man that can get that business for us?” I said, “No, I don’t know of a man, but if you will give me a little time out there I might find the man.” The president spoke up, “We have found the man if Albert Black will take the job we are sure he can do it.”

I took the job in Salt Lake. They moved me down there in December 1917. With fear and trembling I went to work and had pretty good luck. That winter I got a new agent at Malad, Idaho, one a Brigham City, one a Preston, Idaho, one a Provo and one at Ogden. They all bought a few machines and paid cash so the company was very happy. The dealer at Ogden was one of the largest implement dealers in Utah. He had an agency with the International Harvester Company to sell their implements. They insisted that he sell their separators. He said, “In February we have three days, our Spring opening days, during those days you can have as many separator salesmen as you want. The DeLaval separator Company can have the same. You can have ten days after the opening to close up your sales and whichever one makes the most sales stays and the others move out. I will furnish two field men with cars to help each. He got us the names of the men, we flipped a coin for the first choice, I won Harry, and then he took one. I got the two best men by far. The opening morning it was quite a sight. They had a big fine booth all decorated and four salesmen.

There I was in my corner all-alone with two separators. I took one all apart, every piece out and I had the first man that came in put it together. He did. The next man tore it down and we kept that up all day. I had more people around my booth that all the rest of them. Well, when the ten days were over we sold twice as many separators as they did and I got a nice order. I made quite an impression on the people that owned the business. They also owned a group of creameries in Star Valley, Wyoming. They wanted me to go down there and take charge of their creameries. By this time my family was large enough that they needed me at home so I took the job with Burtons and moved to Star Valley in 1919.

I had quite a job at the creameries. Every man that worked there knew a lot more about creameries than I did and they soon found it out and a few of them were quite nasty. The creameries were terribly in debt and losing money every year, capitalized for $75,000.00 and owed the bank over $85,000.00. I went right to work checking to see where the losses were coming from. One thing I found, the plant men were stealing butter, cheese and cream enough to supply the whole town, so I told them the first of the month I would give them a 10% raise in their salary but they had to pay for their butter, cheese and milk and cream.

Most of them were find but a few got pretty sore. About six months later I found a note on my desk stating that on the first of the month they were going to quit unless I could give them a 25% raise. Next morning I called them all in and told them that because of the conditions I couldn’t do that. My secretary said, “What can we do?” I said, “You take care of the separator and the cream, I will receive and weigh the milk and ship the cream.” We got the cans all cleaned and ready, but the day before the strike two of the older men came in and said they did not want to strike. So the morning of the strike they all came back. That ended our troubles with the men.

About a year after I arrived in Star Valley they ordained me to a Seventy and gave me a job in the MIA. Sometime after that I was ordained a High Priest by President George Albert Smith and was set apart as Stake Superintendent of the Young Men’s Mutual in the stake. Several years later I was made a member of the High Council, a position which I held until I left the valley. We sold the creameries to the Kraft Cheese Company in 1926 and we moved to Ogden.

Shortly after we moved to Ogden I was called to serve as second counselor in the Twelfth Ward Bishopric. David J. Wilson was Bishop and Hyrum Wheelright was first counselor. This was one of the finest experiences of my life, to labor with these two fine men and to have contact with many others of the finest men and women in the church, to say nothing of the hundreds of children and young folks. This was an experience never to be forgotten. During my term in this Bishopric we built quite a large extension to our chapel. This gave me a wonderful experience in planning the rooms, the halls, a fine amusement hall, relief society room, baptismal font and many other little jobs that kept us at our wits ends.

The raising of the money to do this job was a wonderful experience. It took us into the homes of millionaires and common people to give them the privilege of contributing to the worthy cause. This used up about five years of my leisure time and gave me a spiritual boost that carried me through for many years. Dr. Warren Shepard offered me a job as manager of a group of creameries in Southern Utah, one a Delta, one a Fillmore, and one at Beaver. I took the job and moved to Delta in 1931.

They were in debt about $100,000.00 and had no apparent chance of getting out. After about a year I found a bookkeeper, Paul Warnick, that straightened out our books and gave me a lot of leads as to the way out and I went to checking and changing and after while we began making a little money. It was tough going but by improving the quality of our products we were able to find more and better markets and gradually paid off our debts and were making a profit. The Doctor got a chance to sell the business to the Brooklawn Creameries and he did.

During my stay in Delta I was given some very interesting church jobs. Bill Hilton who was Stake Superintendent of Young Men’s Mutuals called Bill Starley and myself in and gave both of us the job of Scout Commissioner. Bill was the manager of a large dry goods, furniture, and general supplies store. He had no time for the job and didn’t want it so it fell to me. I went right after it with all my might and found myself two of the finest scout men in the state to carry that work. We organized scout troops in every ward and in a few years we were able to register nearly every boy of scout age in our district. They made scouting so prominent that everybody wanted to get in. We had no trouble getting the finest men in the stake to be our troop committee. We gained a reputation in the scout council at Provo. They classed us among the finest districts in the council, they even gave me a Silver Beaver, one of the highest awards a scouter can get. Isn’t it funny how some fellow always gets the reward for the other fellow’s work?

I was later set apart as Stake Superintendent of the Young Men’s Mutual and again was able to surround myself with a bunch of the finest workers in the stake and they organized fine active groups in every ward. It was a thrill to see these groups function. By this time the Doctor had sold the creameries and we moved to Midvale and bought a home determined to never move again. We found it rather hard pickings at Midvale. By this time some people classified me as an old man. I failed to agree but they had the upper hand. Finally some of my friends got me a job at the County Shops.

I was a helper on the county trucks, pulled the levers, greased the wheels, and rode the front seat when we scraped the snow off the roads. This lasted about a year then I was promoted to powder monkey for the county roads. I dug into the gravel banks and blasted the gravel loose so the trucks could pick it up. I blasted the big rocks out of the highway and old bridges so new ones could go it. This was a little rough for me but I got a fine experience out of it.

One time the county sheriff’s office called and said a woman had drown herself in the Jordan River. It was my job to get in a boat and go up and down the river and blast all the willow bends, trash piles and old car dumps at three different places. I had to dive to the bottom of the river, attach a powder blast to old cars then blow them up to release the body. After two days we finally got it up and it added one more experience to my life.

I finally got a job with the Porter Walton Company on Salt Lake selling trees, shrubs, and seeds from their store. It gave me a chance to meet the public again and to enjoy the association of a fine bunch of clerks. But when I was 72 they laid me off because of my age. Then I got a job up a Hill Field in a government warehouse. Worked there about a month when they found their x-rays showed that I had T.B. They sent me to the T.B. hospital at Ogden but after 30 days there they turned me loose and decided I didn’t have it.

Then they hired me as janitor of the Midvale First Ward Church and for five years I enjoyed that work and the people. I taught the genealogy class in the Sunday school in Star Valley, Delta, and in Midvale, also a priesthood class, usually the elders, for more than fifteen years. It was a wonderful experience and gave me a pretty good knowledge of the gospel. For some reason everyone seemed to think I should retire and finally the Ward tried to force me to retire by firing me, but I refused to quit.

I got a job at the Salt Lake County Hospital and worked there for two years and I never enjoyed two years more. Visiting all the departments every day and working with a fine bunch of people was the thrill of my life. But like everybody else they got the idea I was too old so out I went. For one full year I stayed home and tried my best to retire but I couldn’t make it. Just about the end of my 84th year my daughter called and said there was a job opening as a caretaker in the Orange County Stake Center at Anaheim, California. I came right down and got the job so at almost the end of my 85th year, here I am.