Mary Eliza Anderson 1874-1960

Born 29 January 1874 in Fountain Green to Andrew Anderson and Mary Eliza Allred
Married Charles Edward Worthington 12 August 1896 in Nephi
Mary Eliza-Eudean-Earl
Died 2 March 1960 in Provo
Buried in Emery

1880 Census 
1900 Census
1910 Census
1920 Census
1930 Census



Autobiography:

Mary Eliza Anderson was born January 25, 1874, at 12 p.m. in Fountain Green, Utah, the daughter of Andrew Anderson and Mary Eliza Allred.

My first memories were of my brother Wily and half sisters, Mary Ann and Josephine who lived just next to us on the same block. My brother Parley was the next one born but I do not remember that. I remember that when my sister Libbie was born, I was thrilled to have a sister. I thought that was about the finest thing that could have happened.

Grandmother Chappell lived with us always. Our home was small, but there always seemed to be room for everyone. There were two beds in the bedroom and under each was a trundle bed which was pulled out each night. We always had good beds–a straw mattress and a feather mattress and plenty of home-made quilts. Father rented us a house that had four rooms, so we were well fixed up.

My brother Edd was born here. He was always a happy smiling chap. There was a big barn on this place where father kept his horses. One day while following my father, I ran close behind the horses. One named “Yellow” kicked me in the stomach and knocked me out for a while. This taught me a lesson.

One day I fell out of the barn loft and broke a front tooth. When Wily and I were only eight and six we used to get up early and prepare breakfast. I would stand on a stool and set the table and wash dishes.

We carried our drinking water two and one-half blocks in a brass bucket we had for that special purpose. We all had to do our share of the work. Grandmother managed the homework while mother did sewing for others. Grandmother knit the stockings and did the mending.

Grandmother was a very efficient seamstress. She embroidered, did art work, and did all the fine work on all the baby clothes, for Mother’s children. When we were named, we all were wrapped in a lovely shawl of hers. All my children used it for the same purpose. One time grandmother made me a doll and dressed it beautifully for my Christmas present.

Santa brought me a primer which was the first book I used at school. Some of the older girls taught me to read and taught the A B C’s because the teacher was too busy with all the other grades. We each had a slate and pencil. The teacher put all the work on the blackboard and then we copied it on our slates. Wily had a second reader and we had a speller between us. We had spelling matches which greatly increased our interest and made us study harder. There was not a word in the spelling book that we could not spell. We also copied our arithmetic from the blackboard and we learned to divide and subtract. That was as far as our mathematics went, but I won a fifth reader as a prize that was the prize of my life. I suppose I graduated, at least that was all the schooling I had.

Father then built us a new home of sawed logs, consisting of two rooms and a cellar. We had a well there and I thought it was great. I painted the doors and woodwork grey. Father bought butter, eggs, chicken, meat, vegetables and fruit and took it to Eureka to sell. Eureka was a mining town and he made a trip each week. I would look to see if his covered wagon was at home and if it wasn’t I would walk out to meet him, up to the divide north of Fountain Green. I would rummage into his grub box and tell him everything that had happened in his absence. Usually he would give me a dime. The other kids always envied me, but they never thought of going to meet him. I always went to father when I thought I was abused and he knew how to comfort and cheer me.

One time mother went with father to the mining camp of Tintic to get George Allred, Uncle Henry’s son, to care for. He was a rough fellow and used bad language–very different from what we were used to. He got the other boys in all sorts of trouble. It took much patience to get along with him. Later, father paid the fare for a Swedish girl to come to America and mother cared for her, all in our small house. The girl took epileptic fits and mother couldn’t understand her language, but she stayed with us until she was married, and finally learned our language.

Then my brother Sanford was born and, as usual, we were very happy for our new baby. After this came a time when the men who had plural wives had to forsake them to comply with the law. Father was always true to his three wives (my mother was the third) and he was hunted by the law. I learned later that a non-Mormon friend fixed a room in his granary with a stove and a bed where father could hide out. One night the U. S. Marshall called at our house, hunting for a plural wife. Mother fled to the corn patch and I sat by the window, with no light, watching all night. How I prayed for the safety of my father and mother!

During these troublesome times, my sister Loretta and my brother Warren were born. Hence, for mother’s safety, we moved to Castle Valley (Emery County) and all of us lived in the "bends" of the "Muddy" Creek. In all there were about ten families living here. One was grandfather Wily Allred who had a farm there. We built a log room to live in and took up some land with a water right. We lived in a school section. There was a dug-out there and father put a door and window in it. Ordinarily we used the dug-out only for a kitchen, but when a wind storm came up, mother would gather all of us and the bedding and go to the dug-out. How the wind blew! But we finally got more used to the wind.

Eventually, father was arrested and had to go on trial. Warren was two years old then. Mother was subpoenaed and the trial was held at Provo. My half brother Lewis got the officer drunk with the result that no one came to testify against father and he was acquitted. They did, however, make him pay the costs of the court, some $300.00.

We loved the good and generous people of Muddy Creek. We rode horses, danced, and made our own fun. Mother always went with us. I’m sure it was hard for her to adjust herself to this hard pioneer life. At first she cried every day but finally she came to love it more than any other place.

About three miles west of where we lived on the Muddy, the settlers began to build a town called Emery. At first there were three houses on the town site, plus a small general store where all of us bought out scanty supplies. Folks began to move into the town, however, and it built up rapidly. The boys who lived in Emery moved our log house to town. We all had to be self-supporting so I went to Nephi and worked for a family named Gad, picking and drying fruit. Father bought some of this fruit and took it to Eureka each week, but eventually he became very ill and mother came from Emery to take care of him.

Father died, however, and mother and the boys returned to Emery. There they bought a farm and my mother lived in Emery for 45 years. She died July 1, 1917. I continued to work in other towns and finally, while working in Nephi, I met and married Charles E. Worthington on August 13, 1896. Bishop Warner performed the ceremony. We were later endowed in the Manti Temple, June 19, 1913.

My first daughter Eudean was born on May 17, 1997. Life was now quite complete with a baby to care for and to cheer our lives. We lived neighbors to Henry and Alice Golden. They were like a father and mother to me. They are among the treasured memories of my life. During this period Eudean had pneumonia. I sent for an Elder to administer to her. It was a terrible night, a real blizzard. An old man came with a lantern and blessed my baby. The next morning she was better.

I joined Relief Society and in that way got acquainted with the fine people of Nephi. Here is where my girls started to Sunday School. Ruby was born July 8, 1900. She cried so much that a rupture came on her forehead. Brother Lunt blessed her and promised that she would get better if I would live the gospel teachings. I prayed for the Lord to help me live right and teach my girls to be wonderful women in Zion. Ruby was restored to health.

Another testimony that came to me through prayer was shortly after Charl bought us a home and Dessie was born April 30, 1903. She was such a pleasant, good-natured baby and I had three little girls to love. Those were the happy days, when Aunt Gean and Uncle George came and he played the guitar and he and Charl sang so well together. They knew so many songs! We were indeed brothers and sisters.

Then Dessie, the baby, got burned when her high chair was accidentally tipped over against the stove. The shock caused her to take spinal meningitis and it seemed that all the doctors could do was in vain. The Elders administered to her repeatedly. One night two women came to stay with me. I got the Elders again. I felt that I just could not part with my baby but as they saw her suffer, Bishop Pettigrew asked if they might not dedicate her to the Lord. I consented. Then he asked me to kneel in prayer, which we did. As they administered to her, I noticed that they gave her a wonderful blessing. They promised her life and health, that she should be a missionary of the gospel, and that she would live to be a mother in Israel. They said that she was a choice spirit to promote the cause of truth. After they were through, the Bishop shook my hand and said, "Just as your faith is, it shall be." Then the Bishop got his wife up and told her to go over to me, telling her that the two worst women in town were with me. When she came, my baby was resting, all pain was gone. (The Bishop felt that he had made a terrible mistake in promising her
life.)

When the doctor came, he said "Don’t give any more medicine, the baby is well." She never took another bad spell. That was another testimony that the Lord hears and answers prayer. Also, the women who were with me, and who were somewhat disaffected from the Church, gained a great testimony.

Charl was on the desert much of the time and I was usually alone with my children. Edna was born on January 6, 1908, and we now had four darling girls to bless our home. About this time Charl decided to quit herding sheep and went to Wyoming to cut timber. He quit smoking then, and never used tobacco again. He bought horses and hauled oil and grain.

We moved to Emery in October, 1911. Our son Theron was born on May 4, 1912 and we were so thrilled to have a little boy. He looked so much like Edna, with his brown eyes and dark hair. He was so affectionate and lovable but was not destined to be with us long. He contracted the influenza during the bad epidemic at the end of World War I and died on December 8, 1918.

Leta was born on March 22, 1914. My mother took care of me when all my babies were born. I always felt so secure in her presence. How I love her memory! Leta has always done so much for us– always considerate and kind.

Now all of them are married and we feel quite alone. The girls worked so much on the farm. I am proud that they are all religious minded and love to work in the Church. What more can a mother ask for than to have her children live and love the restored gospel. We moved to Manti September 19, 1944, and bought a little home there.

Dr. Elsie Shipp gave an advanced course in Obstetrics to a class of 14 which included me about 1914. She gave us each a diploma and I took care of many childbirth cases after that. My service was not confined to maternity cases, however, but came to include almost a general practice. Bishop Brinkerhoff set me apart as a nurse and practitioner. I cared for all kinds of disease cases and never contracted any of them. I vaccinated, set broken bones, and sewed up cuts and wounds. My success in caring for the afflicted was due to prayer and faith. I always carried a prayer in my heart for those who came under my care. This, together with my training, resulted in a remarkably high percentage of success, both in childbirth cases and in general practice.

I have worked in the Relief Society, where I was set apart to lay out the dead. In this, I have taken care of many burials. All the clothes for the dead were made by the Relief Society. The coffins were made by local carpenters. The Priesthood Quorums to which the dead belonged took care of other matters. It was all a labor of love.I delivered many babies during the 26 years I went out nursing. I taught Sunday School classes for 24 years. I was a missionary in Relief Society for six years. I was a teacher in Relief Society for many years. I was a member of the Committee that laid out the dead for 26 years, before there were any undertakers in this county. I was a health clinic nurse for 24 years and a health officer for the Town of Emery for 20 years. I was the local registrar of vital statistics for 20 years.

Now, it is my great pleasure to go frequently to the Manti Temple and do work for the dead. Bishop Pettigrew told me many years ago that if I would take my children regularly to Sunday School, they would never depart from the Gospel.



By Cleon Olsen Killpack

Mary Eliza Anderson Worthington was born in Fountain Green, Utah, on January 29, 1874 at 12 p.m. She was the oldest daughter and the second child of a family of eight born to Andrew Anderson and Mary Eliza Allred Anderson. Her father, Andrew Anderson was born in Skogardshus, Gnarp, Sweden, on March 29, 1823.

In 1858, at the age of 35, he and his first wife, Anna Christena Olsen, heard the gospel from the first Elders who went to Sweden, John Van Cott and Erastus Snow. There was considerable opposition and persecution toward Mormonism and its followers at that time. One night it became necessary for Grandpa Anderson and his family to flee in haste to avoid trouble. They settled in Copenhagen, Denmark, waiting for the day that they could all go to America.

There was not enough money for all the family, so the father sailed first, leaving Anna and her four young boys in Copenhagen. The ship on which he sailed was burned and he was one of only fourteen lucky survivors to be rescued by another ship. He was on the ocean for ten long weeks. When he arrived in America grandfather found work in Iowa and for two years he saved his earnings carefully so that he could send for his wife and children. It was not until they met in Philadelphia that he learned of the death of his oldest son while they were separated.

They went from Philadelphia to Utah, crossing the plains with the help of an ox team. After a brief stay in a cabin on Cottonwood Creek near Salt Lake City they moved to Moroni in Sanpete Valley, central Utah. Later they moved to the town of Fountain Green.

In 1867 grandfather married Martha Olsen and on August 1, 1870, he married Mary Eliza Allred, his third wife, who became our ancestor. She was a native Utah girl of 18, and he a mature man of 47. The marriage took place in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. At that time the people believed that polygamy was a "higher law" to which they were expected to give obedience. Thus began the marriage that was to nurture Mary Eliza, her two sisters and five brothers.

Her first home was a log building of two large rooms with a roof of clay, a white pine floor, and a fireplace which served both for warmth and light. Mary Eliza was named after her mother, but the inconvenience of two of the same name in one household soon became apparent. Her mother was not willing to have a "big" Eliza and a "little" Eliza and there were already two Marys in the family. Hence, she came to be called "Lida" or more often plain "Lide."

"My first memories," she wrote, "were of my brother, Wiley, two years older than I and my half sisters Mary Ann and Josephine, who lived just next to us on the same block. My brother Parley was born next, but I do not remember that. I remember vividly, however, when my sister, Libby, was born. I was so thrilled to have a sister– I thought that about the finest thing that could have happened."

There was always a playmate available. Each of the three families lived on a corner of the block with the remaining area used as a joint playground. Eventually there were twenty-four children in all. They all learned to love and enjoy each other, especially the children of the last two families. Some of their favorite games were Danish Ball, Steal the Sticks, Hide and Go Seek, Run Sheep Run, and Drop the Handkerchief, etc. Birthdays were always celebrated. The half-brothers and half-sisters and friends played games together while molasses candy was made for refreshments. Part of the fun was for each to stretch his own candy.

The wives, too, were cooperative; each assisting with her special talent or interest. My great-grandmother’s speciality was sewing and nursing. All of the children helped with household duties and outdoor chores. One of Lide's regular duties at the age of six and beyond was to get breakfast. She had a little footstool which gave her the necessary height for table setting, dish washing, etc. Another regular duty she and her brother shared was to keep a supply of drinking water in the house. It had to be carried from Collard’s well, two and a half blocks away. They had a bright shiny brass bucket, a special container for drinking water. One of the duties she liked very much was milking the cows. They had one cow that was a challenge to everyone, but Lide was determined to learn to milk her and she did. In winter time the snow was melted for washing and this major project was excuse enough to keep the children home from school.

One day when Lide was quite small she was playing in the barn and fell from the hay loft. As a result, she broke off a precious front tooth. Another tragedy which happened in this same barn where her father kept his horses, she records as follows:

"One day while following my father I ran close behind the horses. One of them named "Yellow" kicked me in the stomach and knocked me out for a while. This taught me a lesson."

One of the fun customs of Christmas time was to race to the homes of the half-brothers and sisters and shout, "Christmas Gift" early in the morning. (This custom was continued by Aunt Leta to our home. She always managed to get there and help us share in the fun. Notation by Cleon) Treats were in order for the one who called first. But Lide and her full brothers and sisters were always worried as Aunt Martha was an early riser while their mother liked to sleep later in the mornings. Sometimes they won the contest, however. Her happiest childhood Christmas was the time her Grandmother Chappell made her a doll and dressed it beautifully. Also, Santa brought her a primer which was the first book she used at school. This was a treasure indeed for all the students.

Of her schooling, Lide says: "There was but one teacher for all grades. Some of the older girls taught me to read and write. We each had a slate and pencil. The teacher put all the work on the blackboard and we had a speller between us. We had spelling matches which greatly increased our interest and made us study harder. There was not a word in the spelling book that we could not spell. We also copied our arithmetic from the blackboard. We learned to add, multiply, divide and subtract. That was as far as mathematics went. I won a fifth reader as a prize–that was the pride of my life. When I had mastered it, I suppose I graduated, at least that was all the schooling I had."

This lack of opportunity imprinted itself so much on her mind that she did everything possible in later years to help her own children get the best education possible. Of course, a good deal of her education was obtained outside of school. One lady took her and nine others and taught them to write with a pen and ink. Every bit of available wrapping paper was saved for this purpose. (Grandmother was a very good writer. Her writing had a special style all its own. It was very legible. Cleon)

Oh, if the old fireplace could but talk, how many interesting things it could reveal. Here the family read their books and studied their lessons. Here they chatted happily of the day’s experiences. Here her father and mother taught them the principles of the gospel and here they kneeled together in family prayer.

One of the evening duties in winter times was to sit around the big fireplace and remove shoes and stockings. The home-knit wool stockings were hung to dry and the heavy cobbler-made calf-skin shoes were greased, warmed and rubbed to make them softer and more moisture-proof for the following day. There were no overshoes or boots.

As Lide grew she watched her mother sew for others, making beautiful dresses. She yearned in her heart for such a dress. So, she says: "I gathered rags, washed them and sold them for paper making. With the money I bought some red cashmere. I wanted to make the dress myself, so mother let me do it. Then mother bought me a pair of nice shoes. How I loved that dress and those shoes." (Grandmother was a good sewer. How often I remember seeing her at the sewing machine making something nice. My mother was also an excellent seamstress. My ruffled dresses she made were works of art. Cleon)

The officers of the Primary Association asked the children to glean wheat at harvest time to help build the Manti Temple. This project meant a great deal to the children. Lide’s father’s threshing machine, run by Uncle San Holman threshed the wheat without charge for the local Primary children. Lide attended the dedication of the temple, rejoicing with the others at its completion. She was then twelve years old. Her love for that sacred building was passed on to her children. Many of the Anderson family have served there. Her half-brother, Lewis, and his son, Robert, both served long and faithfully as presidents of the Manti Temple. Whenever members of the family would go there it was like a family reunion, so manyrelatives as regular workers. (Cleon’s brother, Earl R Olsen was also President of the Manti Temple through the years, 1988-1991.)

Besides the eight children, three other persons shared the Anderson home. Of these Lide writes: "One time mother went with father to the mining camp of Tintic to get George Allred, Uncle Henry’s son, to care for. He was a rough fellow and used bad language–very different from what we were used to. He got the boys in all sorts of trouble. It took patience to get along with him. Later, father paid the fare for a Swedish girl to come to America. She was more care than help for she took epileptic fits and mother had to watch her always. Together with the handicap of a strange language this made her quite a burden also, but the girl remained until her marriage. Grandmother Chappel Allred was the third adopted member of the family. She always lived with our family. Our home was small, but there always seemed to be room for everyone. There were five beds in the bedroom; mother’s, grandmother’s, two trundle beds which were pushed under the big beds by day and pulled out at night, and a single bed at the far end of the room for the Swedish girl. We always had good beds–a straw mattress, feather beds, and plenty of home-made quilts."

My great-great grandmother Chappell (Lide’s grandmother) was a very efficient seamstress. She embroidered beautifully, making her own designs. She did all the fine handwork on clothes for her daughter’s babies. She knit the stockings and did the mending. Most of all, she managed the home and the children with a very strict hand. This was quite necessary since her daughter, Lide’s mother, helped out the family budget by sewing for others.

Great great grandmother Chappell Allred was a very energetic woman, particular to a fault, and she loved nice things, especially clothes. She had been a governess in Liverpool, England, and was an expert at needlework and dressmaking. Her husband, George David Chappell, died, perhaps in Iowa. On the plains, she met and married Wiley Payne Allred, my great-great grandfather. His wife had also died during the journey and had left five children. Grandmother Chappell Allred drowned her sorrow in service, taking care of this good man and his children. She had one daughter of her own after arriving in Utah, Mary Eliza Allred Anderson. She was sealed in the temple to George David Chappell, her first husband, instead of Wiley Payne Allred, father of Mary Eliza Allred, who is the mother of Mary Eliza Anderson Worthington.

The rigors of pioneer life must have been very hard for this refined lady. Her life had not been an easy one, so if she was sometimes impatient and over strict with the children, it is understandable. But children do not look far beyond the act in their eyes. Grandma was just plain strict. In the vernacular of their time they had to toe the mark. Because of all these complicated conditions at home, Lide turned her deepest affections to her father. He was a kind, patient man, with an understanding heart. She always said of him, that he was the best man that ever lived. Another remark of hers which shows her love and respect for her father would always come when the family spoke of their ancestry which was one-quarter Swedish and three-quarters English. She would say, "Your Swedish blood is the best blood in you."

Besides being a farmer himself, this good man peddled produce from the farming communities of Fountain Green and neighboring towns to the mining community of Eureka. "On Thursdays after school," Lide writes, "I would look to see if father’s covered wagon was at the corral. If not, I would go on foot out the road to meet him. Sometimes I would walk for miles up the divide north of Fountain Green before I would see his wagon appear. Then I would climb up in the wagon seat by his side and pour out my heart to him. I told him everything that had happened in his absence. The comfort and love I got from my father always sustained me. He smoothed the rough places of my life. I always took my troubles to him and he always seemed to understand and to know just how to handle me.

"After our little heart to heart visit I would descend on his grub box. My, how good that food tasted, even though it had been in the box for three days. Sometimes there would be a bright, shiny dime for me as a surprise, sometimes an orange, and sometimes even a pair of new shoes. The other kids envied me, but never thought of going out to meet him."

In the 1880’s came a dreadful period of persecution against the church and particularly against those who had entered into plural marriage. Men were forced to forsake their polygamous wives to comply with the law. Lide’s father was determined to take care of his families, so he became a "hunted" man. Lide writes of this period: "We seldom knew where father was. I later learned that a non-Mormon friend and neighbor fixed a room in his grainery with a stove and a bed where father could hide out. One night the U. S. Marshal called at our house, hunting for a plural wife. Mother fled to the corn patch. How I prayed for the safety of my father and mother.

"During those troubled times," Lide continues, "my sister Loretta and my brother, Warren, were born. Hence, for mother’s safety, we moved to Castle Valley (Emery County) where we could live a more normal life. Eventually father was arrested and had to go on trial. Warren, the baby, was two years old then. Mother was subpoenaed and the trial was held in Provo. My half-brother Lewis got the officer drunk, with the result that no one came to testify against father and he was acquitted. They did, however, make him pay the costs of the court, some $300.

"Our new home in Castle Valley was in the bend of the ‘Muddy Creek’. We were truly pioneers. There were but ten families there then. Among them was grandfather, Wiley Allred, who owned a farm. I was 14, a grown young lady, almost. Our first house was a little sloped shed of Grandfather Allred’s with straw and dirt roof and rough lumber sides. Then we moved into a tent which was destroyed during a heavy wind and rain storm. It was a happy day when we moved into a dugout on the bank of Muddy Creek. This old dugout had been used as a store by a man named Lisonbee. It was well built, with a leakproof roof, smooth yellow painted walls, and a floor of smooth fitted stones which we mopped clean every morning. In the north end of the room was a huge fireplace which gave both light and warmth during the cold winter.
Grandfather put a door and window in our dugout home. This would have been a very comfortable home had it not been for the rats and snakes that had taken up 'homesteading' in the ceiling."

On one of Lide’s father’s visits to bring them flour, meat, and a little money, he stayed long enough to build a log room. This was indeed putting the family in the "luxury" class. Then they used the dugout only as a kitchen. When the wind came up, however, and it used to blow hard in Emery, the mother and children would gather up the bedding and flee to the dugout for safety. My, how the wind did blow, but they finally got used to it. As they grew up, the boys took up homestead farms with water rights and became farmers. Several of them spent their lives in Emery.

Lide recalls, "We loved the good and generous people of Muddy Creek. We were all united and loved and lived the gospel. We made our own recreation, rode horseback (the girls sideways), played games such as "smut" (a card game where the loser was blacked with soot), and we danced almost every night. We sang songs and played jokes on each other. Mother always went with us in our fun. We were so carefree and happy, we little knew how hard it was for her to adjust herself to the hard pioneer life. At first mother (Grandma Lide’s mother) cried almost every day, but finally she came to love the little home on the Muddy more than any other place.

"The church organized a ward known as the Muddy Ward, meeting in a large log room which served also as school and recreation hall. She was a Relief Society visiting teacher. She rode horseback many miles to make her teaching round. In addition she went about nursing by the same means of transportation, which was the best then available."

The mail came by horse-back from Price, the nearest town on a railroad, some sixty miles away, three times a week. About three miles west of the settlement on the Muddy some of the settlers began to build up the community which became Emery. When first laid out, the townsite had but three houses, plus a small general store where the people bought their scanty supplies. Lide’s mother bought a full block in the town and the boys moved the log cabin there and rebuilt it. Water had to be hauled from the creek to the new townsite for drinking and cooking. This was done in large barrels. Snow and rainwater were collected and saved for other purposes. The horses and cows were driven over to the creek daily for water.

Plans were made to build a canal to bring water into town, but it was not completed until 1888. The canal building had grown into a very major operation, including a 1200 foot tunnel through solid rock–quite a feat for a few poor, hard-working men to accomplish with the inadequate tools they had. The canal and tunnel, however, made it possible for them to expand their farms and homes over many hundreds of acres of fertile land.

These were the days when Lide was a popular young lady. In fact, she was quite the "belle of the ball." Dessie recalls that once when she was in her prime, one of grandmother Lide’s girlhood friends, Lettie Petty, said to her: "You Worthington girls (there were five of them) are all nice looking, but there isn’t one of you as nice looking as your mother was when she was young."

Others of her girl friends were: Mary Christiansen, Maria and Hanna Anderson, Annie Anderson (Cove) and Annie Aagard. Wallace Petty, Hans Christensen, Carl Albertson and Chris Larsen were some of her admirers at this time. Of Chris Larsen, grandmother says, "He was the truest friend I had. He looked after me in a brotherly fashion. He came to our house every night." Wallace Petty practically lived at the Anderson home. He was an ardent suiter. He played the fiddle for dances, which added to his popularity. Some of the other boys played theirharmonicas too. Girls in gingham and calico gowns and boys in overalls and boots–my what good times they had. Grandmother writes, "We were all like one big happy family."

Everyone had to be self-supporting at a rather early age. There was not much chance for girls to earn money in the new town of Emery, so Lide went with her father to Nephi. There she worked for a family by the name of Gad, picking and drying fruit. Her father stopped each time on his way to Eureka to pick up fruit and visited with her and again on his way home so that she was quite contented. However, her brief trips back to Emery were such happy times and she longed to return to stay. Finally, her father became very ill and her mother moved back to Fountain Green temporarily to care for him until his death on May 10, 1898.

In the meantime, Lide was getting acquainted with the young people in Nephi. She met a dashing young man with bright brown eyes and dark curly hair, tall and well built. He was out of town a great deal of the time working, but for three years he was her "special" suitor. On August 13, 1896, they were married: Charles Edward Worthington and Mary Eliza (Lide) Anderson. The wedding was at the home of his parents, the ceremony performed by Bishop William Warner.

Charles was the son of Thomas Worthington and Suzannah (Susie) Pass Worthington. They were both converts to the church in England, but met and were married in Nephi. Charles was one of eleven children. They were a family of song birds. He and his brothers, with their friends used to serenade the town. Charles had a very fine voice. He knew hundreds of songs and was in demand to sing for many occasions. Like most sons of the early Utah pioneers, his educations was limited. He, therefore, had to take such jobs as were available. Many of the first years of his marriage he spent as a sheep herder and he got home only periodically. This was hard on both of them. As the children came along she had to bear the worry of their illnesses and problems alone.

The first winter was long and lonely for her, but on May 17, 1897, a baby girl, Eudean, was born. This made life quite complete. When Eudean was nine months old she got pneumonia. She writes, "I was so worried and so alone. I got Will Foster to get someone to come and administer to her. There was a terrible blizzard, but old Brother Hanes came, drenched by the storm. He carried a lantern so that he could see where he was going. He administered to my baby and she got well from that very time. We were so dependent upon the Lord. It was a great testimony to me. I often wonder how mothers not of our faith can raise a family without the power of the priesthood to bless them. I am grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ and its beautiful principles."

Lide went to Relief Society and met many fine women there. She joined the society herself. This helped her to get acquainted. She always loved the work of the organization.

Ruby the second daughter was born July 8, 1900. She was such a care. She cried so much that a rupture came in her forehead. Brother Lunt blessed her and promised that she would get better if her mother would live the gospel teachings. She prayed that the Lord would help her live right and teach her girls to do the same. Ruby was restored to health and grew to be a happy little girl, always singing.

By this time Charles had acquired enough money to buy a home. Soon after, the third daughter, Dessie Verene, was born, April 30, 1903. "Dessie was such a pleasant, good-natured baby. Now I had three little girls to love."

When Dessie was six months old, some of the children at play accidentally knocked her highchair against the large black flat-topped stove. The one side of her face was badly burned. It was from her mother’s arm that three pieces of skin had to be grafted. The shock from the burn caused Dessie to get spinal meningitis, as the doctor diagnosed it then.

She writes, "It seemed that all the doctors did was in vain. The Elders administered to her repeatedly. One night she was so very bad and the doctor could not come. Two women came to be with me– women who somehow had to be there that night to witness a miracle. I got the Elders again. I felt that I just could not part with my baby, but as they saw her suffer, Bishop Pettigrew asked if they might not dedicate her to the Lord. I consented. We knelt in prayer and as they administered to her, I heard a wonderful blessing. They promised her life and health, that she would be a missionary of the Gospel, and that she should live to be a mother in Israel. They said she was a choice spirit to promote the cause of truth. After they were through, Bishop shook my hand said, 'Just as your faith is, it shall be.'

"The Bishop went home and got his wife up and told her to go to me, that the two worst women in town were with me. The Bishop paced the floor in anxiety–he felt that he had made a terrible mistake in promising my baby life. His personal feelings were that she was dying. Sister Pettigrew returned home and told him the baby was sleeping peacefully. When the doctor came in the morning he said, 'Don’t give any more medicine, the baby is well.' She never took another bad spell. That was another testimony that the Lord hears and answers prayer. The women who were there that night were somewhat disaffected from the church. They gained a great testimony."

Grandma writes further: "Charl was on the desert much of the time and I was usually alone with my children. Edna was born on January 6, 1908, and we now had four darling girls to bless our home. She was such a pretty brown-eyed baby.

"About this time Charl decided to quit the desert and his sheep herding and went to Wyoming to cut timber. A little later he bought horses and hauled oil and grain locally. He also worked at a plaster mill in Nephi for several years. In October of 1911 the family made preparations to move to Emery."

This decision caused them to load up their goods and form a caravan–two heavily loaded covered wagons, each pulled by four horses, old Curly, the cow tied to the back of the second wagon. Then followed the old white-top buggy, our pleasure riding vehicle, and a black one-seated buggy. It was quite an adventurous trip and gave us an insight into the hardships the pioneers endured in crossing the Plains. (My mother, Eudean, walked most of the way. She was in charge of the cow and had to lead it through the tunnel in Salina Canyon. Cleon)

The same log room that had been Lide’s home as a girl, but now with two rooms and a summer kitchen added, was their first Emery home. Charl at once began to farm. This was the work he had always wanted to do. He worked with Andrew Anderson’s, Peter Nielson’s and Nephi Williams' farms until he was able to buy one of his own.

(From now on in the history Lide will be referred to as Grandmother and Charl will be Grandfather)

The long hoped for day finally arrived on May 4, 1912, when a son was added to the family. Theron C. was his name. He looked like Edna, with his brown eyes and dark brown hair. He was an affectionate and loveable little boy, the apple of his father’s eye and the pride of his mother, never wanted anything killed on the farm. He woke everyone up in the morning singing, always loved the chickens, etc.

Two years later, March 22, 1914, another brown-eyed baby girl, Leta J., joined the family. She was the last. Great Grandmother Anderson delivered all of the children. Grandmother felt secure with her help. She was truly blessed in this work.

My grandparents had many friends in Emery and had many good times. They loved to party and play cards. Some of their friends were: Peter and Emma Jensen, Niels and Carrie Hansen, Al and Lydia Hansen, Dave and Annie Williams, and others. (The cards they liked was Rook.)

Although the family was poor, grandmother always managed to give the girls pretty clothes. She loved to sew. Her Singer sewing machine was always busy. She made sure they always had a new dress for Christmas and the Fourth of July, as well as in between. Dessie tells: "I remember the rather extreme styles she sewed for Eudean when she was in a very fashionable mood at 17 or 18. Mother was not too happy about the styles, but she tried to satisfy the whims of youth, knowing they were but temporary."

On June 19, 1913, one of her dreams was realized. She and her husband and children made a trip to the Manti Temple to be sealed to each other for time and eternity.

In 1918 the influenza epidemic struck very hard. Thirty-two persons died in the town of Emery within three months. In spite of their great fear and efforts to prevent coming in contact with it, everyone in the family was down at once, except for grandmother. She was blessed to care for the rest of the family.

Three of the four members of the family were very near death’s door. She nursed them all without any help. People did not dare come in– they were panic stricken. They could get a doctor only when they were near death. Their only boy, Theron, was very ill with pneumonia. On December 8, 1918, he passed away. He was six years old. The grief of that moment, coupled with worry for the rest of her family, was almost unbearable. Grandmother washed and laid him out and dressed him for burial. There was no funeral. Members of the family were permitted to get out of bed to see their little brother before they took him to the cemetery for burial. After the epidemic was over a memorial service was held for all in the town who had died with the "flu."

Grandmother wrote: "We look forward to seeing our dear little boy again and rearing him in eternity. I hope and pray that we may always live well for that privilege." Two remarkable things happened in connection with his death– both warnings of the approaching end. While she laid down for a brief rest as he was very ill, she saw while awake a bright transparent form of a little naked boy, on a base or stand. She quickly jumped up feeling that it was a warning of his death. On the day of his death as he lay looking out of the window he saw a funeral procession passing. A woman who died of the flu was being taken to Mayfield for burial. That morning, unknown to him, two of his friends, the Broderick boys, had died, and he remarked, "There are three little boys too." Mother gently said, "No–two little boys." But he insisted that there were three. It was but a matter of hours until he joined his little friends.

Grandmother was a woman of great faith. She was greatly blessed by warnings in dreams. She always seemed to know in advance of death or troubles. Two examples follow: One night she dreamed she was white-washing a small enclosure like a tomb, and mopping the floor. When on the last square she awoke suddenly with the feeling that it meant death. That morning early, Aunt Angie came for her, saying, "Your mother is very sick." For three days she was extremely ill. Nowadays we feel sure that the doctor would have diagnosed it as ruptured appendix, but at that time the doctor and his nurse did not seem too concerned. Grandmother and Aunt Susie were with Great Grandmother Anderson when she quietly passed away at the age of 65. The shock was somewhat tempered by her dream of warning.

One morning she arose troubled by a dream she had had. She said to her husband, “I’m going to be with someone who is going to die. He laughed and said, "You’ll be a prophet yet." He was going to the mountain that morning and she begged him not to take a wild horse he was wanting to break because of the fear she felt from her dream. This was on Sunday morning. On her way to Sunday School she met Lizzie Thomas Torgersen, wife of Alvin Torgersen. "Aren’t you going to Sunday School?" she asked Lizzie. "No," she replied. "I have such a terrible pain in my head." That afternoon two women called to her from Lizzie’s to come quick. Grandmother found her cold and blue and hemorrhaging badly. She brought back some circulation, but could see the woman was near death. Grandmother sent the women for the Elders and Dr. Easley from
Ferron, the nearest doctor, but before they arrived the sick woman had passed away. The doctor said it was ulcers.

Sometimes through her warnings grandmother was able to prevent trouble. Other times she was able to prepare for the shock. In her nursing work, which I will tell about later, it was a great blessing to her.

Grandmother served well in the church throughout her life. She was a Sunday School teacher for nearly 30 years and a very good and popular one. Because of her great ability to remember and tell stories she was able to hold the children’s attention. Whenever they had a class of disinterested boys, who discouraged other teachers, she seemed to be able to interest them. Her "Roll Scroll" of Bible pictures was a great help to her in her teaching. The children loved it. (I remember the Bible stories she told. She seemed to make the characters come to life. I especially remember her telling the story of Joseph sold intoEgypt and his coat of many colors. In my mind she made me see the coat with its brilliant colors and its loving beauty made by his mother. Cleon)

She gave remarkable service as Religion Class Superintendent, One of the most difficult assignments because of lack of cooperation. Following is the story of her call:

Bishop Brinkerhoff was a man of courage, strength and progress, a real leader. He did much for the Emery people in his 27 years as Bishop. One day he rode to their house and said: "Sister Worthington, you have been chosen to be Superintendent of the Religion Class." Grandmother replied, "I can’t do that–I don’t have a good enough education for such a responsibility." He rode away on his horse without another word. In a few days he sent his son, Curtis, with a note. It read, "Meet me at the school house at recess and notify all the school teachers to be present also."

The teachers came but all informed grandmother that they would not do anything with the Religion class. Bishop Brinkerhoff entered the office and without any formality at all began, "If there is anyone here that is dead, we will bury them. We won’t have anyone in this town walking around dead.” The teachers lived near the cemetery at Frank Petty’s so he thought it would be convenient. Then he introduced the subject of Religion class and asked each teacher individually, "Will you teach your group in Religion class?" Each one answered a positive, "Yes." Then he asked grandmother if she would be the Superintendent and she said, "Yes" also. Without hesitation he left the room, but at the door he said, "I will not take less than 100%."

From that unwilling beginning the Religion class grew and was enjoyed by the group for three years. She always loved this work and was grateful that the Bishop had insisted on her taking it. She was a Relief Society missionary for six years. That meant she had to travel throughout the extensive Emery Stake by team and buggy in her teaching. She also served as a faithful Relief Society Visiting Teacher for many years.

Because of her interest and training in the field of health and welfare, she served as Town Health Officer for twenty years, Registrar of Vital Statistics for 20 years, Health Clinic Worker 24 years, and a member of the committee who laid out the dead for 24 years. In her capacity as these officers, she was the person who went around when someone had a communicable disease and put up a red flag on the gate. This was what was known as quarantine. This meant that no one could go out or come into that home until all the members of the family had had the disease or the exposure time was over. This meant that many times they would be isolated for months at a time if each family member went the full exposure time of two or three weeks and then there was the same amount of time for the disease to run its course.

In those days there was not the services of morticians. The dead were washed, dressed and laid out. I remember the women meeting at our home and sewing the clothes for the dead. There was always someone to sit up with the dead also. They put ice on them and tried to keep the corpse looking well.

Grandmother loved to see the wonders of the world outside the small community where she lived. She made a trip to California and saw a painting of the "Last Supper." She commented on the fact that Judas was painted in robes of purple. This color she did not like and she was sure that she was right in her dislike of the color. She also visited Dessie in Washington, D.C. She visited the hospitals and institutions and was thankful for her health and the health of those she loved. I remember hearing her tell about the terrible health conditions she saw.

Aside from her family, her greatest contribution was in the field of nursing. She inherited an interest and natural ability in this field. Her grandfather, Wiley Payne Allred, at the age of 18 was set apart by the Prophet Joseph Smith to be a doctor among the Saints. He had great success with herb medicines, some of which were used by their own family. He was a surgeon with crude pioneer instruments, delivered hundreds of babies. (I don’t know that he had any formal medical training, but he had a huge doctor book and the blessings of the Lord to help him. I have since learned that this book was given to him by the Prophet Joseph Smith. (Dessie)

He cared for the Saints as they crossed the plains. Then he practiced extensively in the counties of Sanpete, Sevier and Emery. He taught his daughter, Mary Eliza all he knew and she in turn became the "Community Doctor." This was passed on to her daughter, Grandmother Worthington, who became Aunt Lide to one and all. (His portrait, Wiley Payne Allred, and history are in the Daughters of Pioneers Museum in Salt Lake City, Utah.)

Grandmother Worthington was often called to the homes of the sick. I remember her telling that when she was called, she in turn called on Brother Pete Olsen, my Grandfather Olsen, if he was not already there. He usually was because people wanted him to administer to them and their families in times of sickness and trouble. The Lord accomplished many miraculous healings in their presence.

In 1914 grandmother was given the opportunity for some training. Dr. Ellis Shipp was sent to many of the outlying communities in Utah to give a course in advanced obstetrics. In Emery she had a class of 14 women, one of whom was grandmother. This is just what she wanted. They all received diplomas, dressed in their white nurse uniforms at the completion of the course. Bishop Brinkerhoff set grandmother apart as nurse and practitioner, with a great promise of blessings. The other women used their knowledge in their homes but did not go out nursing at the time. (I know Sister Mainie Maxfield did midwife duties in Emery, but I do not know if she was trained by Dr. Shipp).

She wrote: "I took care of many childbirth cases after that. My services were not confined to maternity cases; however, but came to include almost a general practice." She delivered hundreds of babies, administered anesthetics, vaccinated, set bones, sewed up wounds, and cared for all kinds of injuries. She came to be relied on very much. She went in all kinds of weather, generally on foot, and at all hours. Sometimes she would be away from her home for days at a time–sometimes missing her sleep for many nights. Sometimes she would just get home for a much-needed rest and someone else would come for her. She responded to every call, forgetting herself entirely. Sometimes grandfather and his girls would rebel at the injustice of some of the calls and the great demands made on her time and health. But true to the ethics of her profession, she never refused a call. She went into homes where there was spinal meningitis, typhoid fever, scarlet fever, and other serious diseases but she never contracted any of these diseases herself. She was also a counselor to many people. They leaned on her and told her their personal troubles and she tried to help them.

Of this work she says: "My success in caring for the afflicted was due to prayer and faith. I always had a prayer in my heart for those who came under my care. This, together with my training, resulted in a remarkable high percentage of successes in childbirth cases and in general practice."

She always preferred that the patients have a doctor and that she assist in her rightful position as nurse. But often the doctors were unable to come and sometimes the people did not want them either because they trusted her more or because they could not afford a doctor. For 26 years she walked through mud and snow day and night responding to the calls of the sick and the dying.

The yearly birth rate varied from 28 to 30. Grandmother delivered about two-thirds of them and nursed all the others. Alton Jensen, the son of her dear friend, Emma, was the first baby she delivered. She went back each morning to bathe and care for both mother and baby. Those were the days when a mother stayed in bed a full ten days after the birth of a baby.

Their home became both doctor’s office and hospital. It seemed there was always an odor of lysol throughout the house. Farmers, hunters, coal miners, etc., were brought to the house with injuries, frost bite, broken bones, and so on. Periodically, Doctor Nixon, County Physician from Castle Dale, came to town to do all the tonsillectomies and other minor operations. One full day of patients were booked up and grandmother made all preparations for the big day. Their house was literally turned upside down. The living room became the operating room, the kitchen the sterilizing room, and beds were made all over the rest of the house. These were to take care of patients until they got over the effect of the ether. Grandmother administered the anesthetic and did practically everything except the actual removing of the tonsils.

Grandmother had a high regard for Dr. Nixon and he for her. They worked well together. (I remember this time. They used the ironing board for an operating table and it seemed to me there were literally buckets of blood from the operations. Cleon)

Typical of the injuries she cared for are the following: Alvin Bunderson got kicked on the shinbone by a mule. It was a dirty, ragged gash. Roy, his older brother, acted as grandmother’s assistant in administering the chloroform. The operating table was the floor. She cleaned up the wound as best she could and sewed it with what was available, common thread and needle. She worried about infection, but it turned out fine.

One day this same Roy Bunderson came in haste from his ranch on the Muddy Creek. His young son, Mack, had been kicked by a colt in the mouth. It was a bad injury. The roof of his mouth had fallen. This really required skill to work inside of his mouth. Roy administered the chloroform and she sewed up the wound. This, she thinks, was her hardest sewing job. The boy could not eat for two weeks so he had to get the necessary nourishment by sucking Ovaltine through a straw. (Mack Bunderson grew up to be a World War II hero and County Attorney.)

The only case of sewing up a wound without chloroform was on Bert Maxfield. His forehead wascut badly while working in the mine. He did not want an anesthetic, so he gripped the sides of the chair while she cleaned and sewed up his wound.

The young son of Wilford Jorgensen was hurt at a rodeo on the Fourth of July. The steer he was riding threw him, then hooked its horn in his mouth, tearing it all the way through from corner of mouth to jawbone. They were unable to get a doctor, as he was on another case, so she sewed it up with regular needle and thread. Wilford gave the chloroform. When Dr. Nixon came he said, "It’s just fine–I couldn’t have done better work." It healed beautifully without a scar.

There was the case of Leonard Williams, brother to Aaron Williams. Leonard was 14 or 15 years old at the time when he and three other boys found some dynamite and set it off. Leonard was burned badly on two-thirds of his body, mostly third-degree burns. In panic he jumped into the creek. Their neighbor, good old Uncle Pete Christensen, said on seeing him, "There is no chance for him."

Grandmother was called and used a good old standby for burns, a lard and rhubarb mixture. Here was a case that needed the best help possible. So, when some visiting relatives insisted on calling a doctor from Huntington, 40 miles away, she was quite relieved and glad to retire from the case. However, the expensive salve prescribed by the doctor was used too sparingly by the family, and he got proud flesh in his wounds. He got very bad and when grandmother called to see him as a friend and neighbor, she found him writhing in pain. His screams could be heard half a block away. By this time the family was using vaseline. In their helplessness they pleaded with her to take over again.

Courageously she began an old pioneer treatment which would truly be frowned on today. Its value must have been seriously questioned then. A man was sent to the barnyard to get fresh warm cow manure. Poultices were prepared between two layers of old sheets. These were changed every two or three hours for several days. When the infection was cleared up grandmother’s wonderful home-made healing slave for burns was used very generously. In this way a slow but sure recovery was made. The ingredients for the burn salve are: Mutton tallow, beeswax, lard–boiled together and add sulphur, sugar, alum, and carbolic acid. She made six quarts at a time for Leonard’s burns.

In the summer and fall she would gather special plants for her medicines. Many of them were dried for winter use. She always seemed to have a concoction brewing on the stove. One of the most popular of these was a tonic which the family called "Bitters." This was used by the family under protest. But, it seemed to do the trick.

The "Bitters" recipe was: Clean tree bark, either poplar or quaking asp (the clean white bark next to the wood), dandelion roots, stone slack parsley, peach leaves and raspberry leaves. Boil together, strain, and drink the liquid. Many, many patients claim that this saved their lives. The bark is a blood tonic, dandelion root is for the liver, the parsley flushes the kidneys, and the raspberry leaves are good for the stomach. She also had recipes for cough medicine, dysentery, bleeding, etc. They are all a part of her heritage from her Grandpa Allred and his big doctor book.

One day when she was at the Price Hospital to have a lump removed from her face, Dr. Hubbard who knew of her experiences, introduced her to the nurses as Emery’s doctor. He said, "Sister Worthington, tell us about some of the things you do." Among the experiences recounted is this one:

"Bill Miller was the 12 year-old son of a poor widow woman. One day as he was riding his horse down Miller's Canyon. His gun, which he was carrying beside him, went off accidentally. The bullet went through his foot at close range. The boy was brought to town and I and my assistant, that day it was Uncle Isaac Allred, took care of the wound. We sterilized a sack needle, cut off the point and threaded it with four strands of silk (Cordicello), with a good knot in the end. Then we dipped the needle and thread in iodine. We pulled needle, thread and iodine through the bullet hole to clean it out, and dressed the wound. Every day I cleaned it out with lysol solution and dressed it. In two weeks it was healed." The nurses were aghast. She said, "You nurses do only what the doctors tell you to do– we have to use our own ingenuity."

(Dr. Hubbard was a great and good man–a wonderful doctor who served Eastern Utah for many years. He was very much loved and trusted. The story is told of one of his patients with cancer who wanted to have the best doctors take care of him. He went to Mayo Clinic. When he told them where he was from, they told him to return to Dr. Hubbard who was the best in his field.)

Her strength was spent after many years and with the advent of better transportation and more medical help, she retired from the work she loved so much. She and her husband had farmed and made a good living. They had a farm on the bench and one near their home. Edna’s husband, Maurice, was a great favorite of grandfather’s and together they went into the turkey business. The turkeys were right by their home. The turkey business did not succeed and finally they decided to sell out. They sold their bench farm to Dermus Jensen and their other farm to Lloyd Jensen.

They left their lovely home and yard and moved to Manti to a little renovated house which had once been a garage. It was at the bottom of the temple hill. This was in 1944. It was very hard for her to leave the home and friends she loved and who loved her. It not only meant giving up the home and farm they had worked to get, but the furniture and belongings of a lifetime. More difficult to leave than possessions were the many dear relatives and friends. She had brought most of the young generation into the world; she had mended cuts and bruises, nursed them through the measles and other childhood diseases, and soothedtheir aches and pains. She had comforted their heartaches and sorrows and rejoiced with them in their joys and good fortune. They were hers, and she was theirs.

(There was only one new improvement which came to Emery that I can remember of which she was not in favor. This was the chlorination of the water. She did not believe in it. She was sure it would send us all to our death. She loved to visit with my parents. She loved to discuss the scriptures and talk with my father. We indeed enjoyed her as a family. She loved us and I am sure had she had her way the move to Manti would not have been made. This move was made the same year Marvell died and was very hard on my mother. Cleon)

In August of 1946 they celebrated their golden wedding anniversary at Manti. All of their immediate family members were present except for Dessie and family. In Emery how grandmother used to look forward to the visits Dessie and her family made. We all enjoyed them. Opal and I pushed Grant and Clark around in buggies. Gordon got so sunburned on his first trip that his face was a bright red. Everyone did everything they could to make the visits special.

In Manti she went to the temple whenever she could. Edd Von was a worker and Ruby was a cook. My parents visited her often and helped her. Finances were a problem for them.

One day she fell down several steps and hurt her hip. (I wonder if her hip didn’t break and then she fell down.) From that time her health deteriorated. She went to several doctors, but the trouble continued. One honest doctor told her she was wasting her money–that nothing could be done for her. He suggested that she face the facts and get some crutches to help her get around. This was a blow indeed. She had always been so active and independent, and now to lean on a crutch. The adjustment was difficult but in time she came to rely on the crutch as upon an old friend. Her eyesight gradually failed too. She had to give up many of the hobbies she had enjoyed such as reading and sewing, crocheting, etc. In spite of her poor eyesight, however, she never failed to write frequent letters to her loved ones.

In January 1953, when she was 79, she became extremely ill. The pain she bore was terrible. After exploratory examinations by two or three doctors she was operated on by Dr. Steel in the Nephi Hospital. A large 5 pound tumor was removed as well as several ovarian cysts. The tumor, though not malignant, had been causing extreme pressure, hence the pain. Everyone was grateful it was not cancerous and that she recovered rapidly.

Many relatives and friends visited them and their love and concern were appreciated. How she missed the Emery people. Uncle Ed and Aunt Georgia lived in Manti and they along with Ruby and family helped them a great deal. Edna and her husband were divorced and she moved to Logan. She was grateful that the children were active in the church.

In the latter part of January 1954 she had her heart's desire. She returned to Emery for her eightieth birthday celebration, marred only by the fact that her husband did not come with her. This party was held at the home of Eudean and Ray. A big dinner was served to all family members and then there was an open house on Sunday where well over 100 people came to visit and say "Hello." Home-made ice cream and all the trimmings were served to the guests.

In June 1957 they moved from Manti to Provo. Leta had always lived there and provided the help they so desperately needed. Again they lived in a small renovated house–a far cry from their lovely home in Emery. The services of the Blind Organization provided her with materials to help spend the long lonely hours. Her husband never gave up his dancing and singing. There was a dance every week and he spryly attended them.

Grandmother died March 2, 1960, in the Utah Valley Hospital at Provo of complications following a broken hip. She was allowed to go home to Emery for burial. How I remember playing in her flower garden. She didn’t scold or fuss. Her cookies and bread and jam were "OH So good!" My mother and I loved to get the work done and go to grandma's where Opal and other cousins, and Aunt Leta and AuntRuby would be, and sometimes the others when they came for visits. The high-heeled shoes we wore and the fun we had. Christmas Day with Santa in a sleigh and turkey dinner with all the trimmings–one of their own home-grown turkeys. I loved my Grandmother.

She always encouraged her children in their Church work. She used to remind them always, "Do whatever you are asked to do in the Church. If you are asked to pray and say no more than ‘Amen’, do it and the Lord will be pleased with you."

She was always diligent about Church attendance. When her children were small she always went with them to Sunday School. Bishop Pettigrew gave her a promise: Sister Worthington, I promise you in the Name of the Lord, if you continue to take your children to church with you while they are small, you will never have to ask them to go when they are grown.” That promise meant much to her and her great desire was that her children should love the church and its teachings.

Written in answer to request of Earl and Dixie Olsen

Dear Dixie and Earl and darling children,

I don’t know how to write a history but tried to put down some facts that you might use since you asked for it. Your work will be different, but will take just as much courage. To rear a family is a great responsibility in this day when so many adversities are prevalent. It takes work, faith, and prayers to safeguard the loved ones. I have been told if you always have family prayer that it is the key to success. I hope you will both be well and able to train the dear children to love and to live the gospel. How I long to see you. I always enjoy being with you all and see the love you have for you and the children. It’s really a pleasure.

I have met many nice people here and they are very considerate of me, but I love the people of Emery who I have labored with most of all. We send much love to all and hope you will be successful in all your doings.

Grandma Worthington

She gave to them in her own handwriting the previously written history which she herself wrote.


Brief sketch by Earl Olsen

She was a mid wife for the whole town. During the flu epidemic she went for two weeks and never once was home, but constantly was helping those who had the flu. At this same time her son, Theron, died from the flu.

Her skills were passed down to her from her mother and her grandfather, Wiley Payne Allred. Wiley Payne Allred was set apart by the prophet Joseph Smith to be a Doctor of Herbs. At the setting apart Joseph Smith also gave him a large book which taught him about herbs and then told him to rely upon the spirit. Grandma Worthington has this handed down knowledge and also relied upon the spirit as to what to do. She delivered a lot of babies–hundreds of them including me.

She was a good cook. She was giving to people all the time. People would come to her with tears in their eyes beckoning her to help them. She went while relying upon the Lord. She was called “Aunt Lide." She was very deeply committed to the gospel.