Hulda Ann Munyon

Born 3 November 1864 in Ohio to Mary Ann Nichols and William Munyon
Married Amos Pierce Ward 10 Jan 1883 in Kansas
Hulda-Cora-Clifford
Died 16 Jun 1951 in Salt Lake City
Buried in the Wasatch Lawn Memorial Park

1870 Census
1880 Census
1930 Census
Death certificate

The following is Hulda's autobiography.

I, Hulda Ann Munyon Ward, daughter of William Munyon and Mary Ann Nichols, was born 3 November 1864 on a farm near Carbondale, Athens County, Ohio. I was Mary's firstborn but the sixth child of the family as my mother married a widower with four living children, and had lost a baby girl. The children were: Jane, Leander, Margaret, Mary and Lana who died. When I was just a child, my father decided to move to Macoupon County, Illinois, which was at that time an unsettled country. Here he took up land and built a small log house. He grubbed the land and split rails to fence it, thus helping to pioneer a new place. We lived very happily there. There were lots of wild fruits and nuts to be had for the gathering, and school was close so we could walk. The land yielded abundantly and we were soon able to build. Father built us a new five-room frame house with a porch on the front, making us very comfortable. Another baby girl, Elizabeth, was added to the family, also a brother, Philip Randolph, who lived only eighteen months.

All then went peacefully and happily on. Mother was an excellent cook, a good manager and homemaker. She was always loving and kind, and was "Aunt Mary" to all who knew her. Time rolled on until I was eight years old. Early one morning in March I awakened and was told that I had another little brother. The whole family was in high spirits over the advent of the little newcomer whom they named William Henry. Our happiness was destined to be short lived for mother developed infection which was then known as child-bed fever. With the poor methods of treatment and help we could get in those days, it soon took her to the home beyond.

This left the family again broken hearted and motherless. Four weeks later little William Henry was lain by her side. This left only Libbie and I of Mother's children. That is when I learned to pray. As I had no mother to take my troubles to, and not caring to bother others with them, I often sought solace and comfort by pouring out my soul in prayer to my Heavenly Father. Aunt Ann Rohr lived with us for about two years after Mother's death. She was always understanding and did all she could to make us comfortable and happy. I shall always be grateful to her. Father also seemed more tender and thoughtful of us children after Mother's death.

Grandfather Munyon lived with us part of the time and with his daughter, Tillie Emels, (Mrs. Henry Emels) the other part. He died at Uncle Henry's and was buried beside Mother and the two babies near, or possibly in, Palmyra, McCoupin County, Illinois.

When I was twelve Father married again, one Evaline Houser Riley. She also had three boys by her last marriage who all grew to manhood: George Washington, Charles Lafayette, and Thomas [Nicholas] Munyon [these boys were actually the children of Evaline and William]. Leander, Margaret Elizabeth (Libbie) and I were still at home. We children attended a country school here and later went to a better school in McPherson, Kansas.

Soon after the marriage, an epidemic of typhoid fever broke out in our community. Margaret, Father, and I suffered severely from it. The doctor said that our drinking water was contaminated, so hearing that land was cheap in Kansas, Father decided that comfort and plenty were nothing without health. The family set out once more to seek a new home. We children thrilled with the adventure of moving and greatly enjoyed the trip. We stopped a few days in Missouri to visit with Thomas Houser who was a brother to our step mother and then continued on our way to McPherson County, Kansas. There Father traded teams and wagons and bought 400 acres of land-good farm land. He remained on that land until his death on 27 June 1912. Our step mother passed on a short time before him.

It was while living there that I met my husband. He stopped one day with his brother who was on business with father. I was outside and he made himself acquainted and talked while his brother was in the house. When the brother returned and they were on their way, Amos announced that he had just met his future wife. The Wards had located in Geuda Springs, Sumner County, Kansas. We were both of the same opinion and after a short courtship we went to McPherson and were married. Father had made the remark that none of his children could get married without his knowledge of it, so we thought we would see. On 10 January 1883 we took off without anyone knowing of our intentions. When we returned that evening showing our marriage certificate, Father ordered mush and milk for our wedding supper. It was not that he didn't like the groom, but because we hadn't consulted him in so important a matter. I was always sorry we did it.

We lived near my folks for the first three years, during which time a brilliant little baby boy came to make his home with us. We named him Franklin Amos and planned big things for his future. Times were rather hard for us the year the baby came, as hail destroyed the crops on our rented farm so we went to McPherson where Amos worked for wages. It was while we lived there that little Frankie contracted brain fever and died at the age of eleven months. The doctor remained with him all night and cried when he passed away. He said, "The world has need of such a brilliant child."

Father was dissatisfied with the way his help were doing on the farm. Most of them were step-sons or sons-in-law. He came to McPherson and offered Amos half of what they made if he would come back with him and oversee things and run the header.

Under ordinary conditions that would have been fine, but the in-laws were all resentful of his coming to take charge and wouldn't cooperate. Amos would cut, or run the header until all the header boxes were full then he would go and help unload them. The summer was extremely hot and dry, and Amos became over heated or had a sun stroke. He fainted and layover the rack for some time. His whole life was affected by it. He had an abscess on his jaw which was lanced nine times causing lockjaw. For three weeks nothing thicker than a knife blade passed between his teeth. He lived on milk and soup. He never fully recovered his health, for when his jaw healed he developed abscesses of the stomach.

We moved around from place to place trying to keep the wolf from the door and better his health at the same time. Once we went into the west corner of Kansas in a spring wagon. Traveling seemed to better his health. He filed on a piece of land there with a little creek running through it. One morning he went out and caught enough fish for breakfast with his hands. There were lots of sheep there so he decided to try shearing. It proved too much for his weakened condition and he became very ill. I thought he would surely die there among strangers. I took care of him day and night applying hot packs to alleviate his pain. When he was sufficiently recovered to ride, I put him into the wagon and started home doing the driving myself On the way we stopped in Lane County where my step sister, Jane Lynn, lived. Amos was somewhat better by that time.

On our arrival at McPherson we found that his brother, Henry, had sold our place. Amos then bought a bunch of hogs, thinking that he could tend them and make a little money. We moved out near Marquet on a farm. He started cutting logs and hauling them for winter wood, and it was the same thing over. He was not able to work and it brought on another spell of terrible pain. Again I stood over him day and night applying hot packs to his side as he wreathed in pain. We were still among strangers and to make things worse, I was expecting a baby in a short time.

Someone told my father about us and he came and took us home with him. They thought he would live only a short time. When Amos's folks learned of his illness they sent for him to come to Geuda Springs. His brother, Royal, had a hotel and mineral springs. They thought probably the mineral baths would help him. He decided to go, as many people had been helped by the mineral baths when nothing else gave relief. He left in late December. I could not go with him as we had no money for my confinement and felt that we could not both impose on his brother.

It was a sad farewell. He arrived at Arkansas City on Christmas Eve looking more like a skeleton than like a man. Royal met him there and they arrived at his home Christmas day just as they were ready to sit down to dinner. They were all so shocked at seeing him in that condition that the dinner was almost untouched. His sister, Hattie, went out behind the house and cried instead of eating. The mineral water didn't seem to help him much, but there was an old doctor there who seemed to know what to do for him, and his health was better for awhile.

When Amos went away I didn't know if I would ever see him alive again. I thought every person coming down the road on horseback was a messenger bringing word of his death. Hattie was born at that time in Father's home in McPherson County, Kansas. When she was two months old I went to Amos and showed him our baby. He was better but still looked like a walking skeleton. He built us a house and we lived there happily for about four years. It was there that Cora was born. When she was about 18 months old, Oklahoma Territory was offered for settlement. Amos got a horse and buggy and ran for a piece of 160 acres. We built a home and lived there about four years. Lena was born there. It was near Marshall in Logan county.

I went out nursing to get the plowing done while Amos remained home and took care of the children. It was while we were living there that we first met the Mormon Elders. They went from house to house preaching the gospel. We both knew as soon as we heard it that it was the true gospel. The more we learned, the stronger our testimony became until we were baptized on 4 June 1893 into the LDS church. We had been affiliated with the Christian church, and they tried to talk us out of our new religion, but we knew it was true and stayed with it.

I had the most peculiar feeling the day we were baptized. As I reached home and was taking off my hat, I felt as if there was a ring around me and I was shut off from the neighbors. I soon found out what it meant. I certainly was shut out, ostracized. Even Amos's brother, Hubert, would come and talk mean to us. We had good neighbors until we joined the church, but they couldn't tolerate our church. One of the neighbors shot our best horse, crippling it for a long time.

Under these circumstances we couldn't enjoy ourselves there any more and wanted to go to Utah where the Saints were. The missionaries wrote to headquarters about it and received word for us to go to Mexico, as we could get land cheaper there. In the meantime my sisters, Elizabeth Hulse and Margaret Hunter, with their families and Amos's brother, Llewellen O. Ward, (Will) had joined the church and we all decided to start to Mexico together.

We had lived in Oklahoma long enough to raise an orchard which was loaded with fruit for the first time the year we left. We had a large cow pasture where the creek cut off a corner of our place, and several good cows. We sold lots of milk and butter. A large part of the farm was planted to wheat. The entire 160 acres we sold for $800. I traded a cupboard full of dishes for a gold ring.

When the neighbors saw that we were going to leave, they softened their hearts toward us and came to bid us good-bye. One woman made slat bonnets for all of us to use on the road. They were surely appreciated. A family by the name of Triplett joined us after we were about a day's travel from home. Our covered wagons were fixed up so they were very comfortable. They widened the boxes at the top so the bed springs fit and we could leave the bed made up. Every inch of space under the bed was packed with household goods. We carried a little sheet iron stove and our washing machine which did the washings for the whole company. In our stove we baked biscuits. Occasionally we stopped near a stream where wild fruits grew then we would bathe, wash up all the clothing, and make jams and jellies to use for the coming week.

Elder McArthur, a missionary who was being released, went with us. We always camped over Sunday and held meetings and rested. One time while we were camped near a stream, the men were swimming and Amos, while diving, hit bottom and dislocated his shoulder. His brother, Will Ward, took him to a doctor. They traveled most of the night, and overtook us the next evening after we camped.

There were 16 children and 11 adults in our company. The children enjoyed running beside the wagons, and at night after helping gather firewood they played around the camp. Bedtime came early because we had to get up early. There was always a hustle and a bustle to get started in the morning. The Triplett family was always the last one out of camp.

Once our water ran out and we traveled all day and into the wee hours of the morning to get to the next water. Then lo! When we arrived at the place, it was only a large mud hole. We drank the muddy stuff and the Lord strengthened our resistance so it didn't make us sick. Babies suffered most, but nothing serious.

We crossed muddy streams, some so deep we were afraid of being washed away, and others full of treacherous quicksand, but we always hailed the rivers as they meant plenty of water and a day to rest from the tiresome jolting, a good bath and clean clothing.

We broke trails over the mountains sometimes going over rocks so large that it looked like we would surely tip over. Other times we drove through deep sand and could make but little progress. At these times women and children would get out of the wagons and walk. There was a colt with the company which watched the children and when they strayed from the group, he tried to strike them with his feet, sending them scurrying back to the wagons.

When we came to towns we stocked up with provisions to last until we got to the next place. Sometimes the supplies were very low between towns. At night we put our wagons in a circle and spread our tables together. The prayer and the blessing were all said in one.

One night a terrible wind storm arose just as we were having prayer. Elder McArthur was leading in prayer. The wind got harder and harder until it began raising up the canvasses and rolling the plates down the country. The elder prayed on so the women got up and ran after their dishes. There were no more dishes, and they decided to watch as well as pray. We got no supper that night. The wind kept increasing. There was an empty farm house about a mile away, so when the men saw that the storm was getting serious, they took the women and children over to it to spend the night. The men got out all the ropes in camp and staked the wagons down. They then stood by to brace them as well as they could through most of the night. The rain began to pour as the wind grew stronger, rising into a tornado that poured out its vengeance for hour after hour.

We learned later that it stormed that same night in our old home in Oklahoma and that two of our neighbors were killed by lightning as they were trying to make their way to the storm cellar. The next morning after the storm, the sun rose bright and clear and we were able to continue our journey. Before we left camp, however, Elder McArthur had us all gather around for a special prayer, then he told us that our troubles had come because of dissatisfaction among us, and if we didn't keep together we would not be allowed to reach our destination.

When we reached El Paso, the port of entry to Mexico, we were delighted because our journey was so near to an end. We were also happy because we met one of the apostles, George Teasdale, who came to welcome us and take us through the customs house. Because he was the first apostle we had seen, my husband asked him for a blessing on his health. He was given a wonderful blessing and was promised that if he were faithful he could have a new stomach. He suffered for years before the blessing was fulfilled, but he did get the new stomach. He could eat anything, and once remarked that he could digest nails if he could swallow them.

We reached Mexico the latter part of September, having started in June. We met men out on the prairie making hay from the wild grass for their winter feed. The first building to come into view was the school and church building. No one could realize how happy we were in arriving at our destination unless they had traveled for three months in a covered wagon with their family and all their possessions. We went to the home of Bishop Winslow Farr and camped in his back yard until we could get a place. It was about four or five days.

We expected to find everyone perfect in a Mormon community because the Elders were good, but we were so disappointed when we found the Saints would take advantage of each other, and were very unhappy for awhile. However, after we got located we learned to love our neighbors and understand their ways.

We lived in Colonia Dublan for seventeen years. Four children were born to us there: Mary and Edna who died in infancy, Gladys Elsie, and Amos Philip. We bought a farm when we first went there but Amos's health was not yet good enough for him to run it, he freighted a lot as traveling always seemed to do him good.

In later years when his health was better, he took up carpentering. He was in New Mexico doing carpenter work when he died of heart failure, leaving me with five children, and Amos being three years of age. It was a terrible shock to all of us.

We stayed in Mexico until all the Americans were driven out. Cora had married in the meantime and I had a little grandson, Fenly Frost Merrell, Jr. My sister wrote for me to come stay with them in Hyrum, Utah. I had just been up there on a visit and to do some temple work when the people were driven out. I never returned to my home and lost practically everything I owned. The people in Hyrum were good to me, but there was nothing I could do there to make a living so I moved to Logan.

Hattie married George W. Maness while we lived in Hyrum. After we went to Logan I got work in the knitting factory and worked there for four years until the noisy place got on my nerves so badly that I had to quit. Lena married while we were in Logan to Warren Lillenquist, and Gladys went to New Mexico to live with Cora. While there she married Marland L. Richins.

I worked in the Eccles Hotel for about a year then Gladys and Cora asked me to come to El Paso and live with them. After working in a hotel in EI Paso for six weeks, making curtains and helping in the rooms, I moved up to the ranch where Cora lived. Soon after I went to the ranch, I got word that Hattie was very ill so I returned to Hyrum and helped her. After she recovered I became ill myself and was in bed for six weeks. They didn't think I would ever recover.

During the last three weeks of my illness I was with Mrs. Israelson where there was more room and more conveniences. She made me very happy.

Amos enrolled in school and went until he was out of funds. Rather than have him quit, I decided to go to work again. I did housework for different people. I worked five weeks at $5 then I did nursing at $12 and $15 a week. Amos finished high school and went to summer school.

He was employed to teach at Medicine Lake, Montana. He married Inger Rowley while teaching there, and I stayed with them until school was out. I returned to Hyrum for two years and then went to New Mexico to stay with my daughters. I made a trip to Kansas to visit my sisters, Jane in Healey, Kansas, and Margaret in Seiling, Oklahoma. I also visited my brother, Lee and his children, in Portland, Kansas, and my husband's brother, Silas, and his family in Wellington, Kansas, Hubert in Henessee, Oklahoma, and Will in Seiling. Silas planned a family reunion for that fall and said if I couldn't make it so soon again that he would get me there. Royal was killed by a hit and run driver a little while before the reunion was to take place so it never was held. I was so glad I made my visit when I did.

I went back to Utah to make my home in Salt Lake City.I made a down payment on a place there then Amos paid it out and enlarged it for me so I could keep a boarder. I spent another 18 months in New Mexico.

My children have been good to me. I have had lots of pleasure with them and have gone through much sorrow, but I thank the Lord I am as well as I am and have had so many blessings come to me. I am thankful for the gospel and hope I can live worthy to be called a Latter-day Saint, and to meet my husband and children in the other world. May the Lord bless you and keep you in the ways of righteousness and truth, my children. Amen.

Cora [Hulda's daughter] added: She moved to Salt Lake where she did a great deal of temple work for her people. She was asked to be an ordained worker but she had to work for her sustenance and couldn't. I don't think she ever told any of us about the call until she was ill and I was with her cleaning out her trunk. I found the call with her treasures. She was a Relief Society teacher for many years, paid for her bushel ofwheat* faithfully, and her tithing always. She was always a friend to the poor and interested in the unfortunate. She lived to the age of 86. She passed away of heart failure. She sat up on the bed, probably to breathe better by the window, and fell back without a struggle on 16 June 1951. She was interred in the Wasatch Lawn Cemetery in Salt Lake City, Utah, 20 June 1951. Beautiful services were rendered in the Deseret Mortuary. The songs, "Beautiful City" and "Going Home" were outstanding numbers.

*Vera Johnson [Hulda's granddaughter] added: For those who read this in future generations: The Relief Society asked the members to donate money regularly to buy a bushel of wheat. This they stored in giant grain elevators to be used in emergencies only. After World War II, when the people in Europe were starving, this grain was sent by the tons to those people, and was the only relief food ready when our government asked for help to feed them. -Verla Johnson, granddaughter