Born 11 January 1877 in Fish Haven, Idaho to Phineas Howland Cook and Elizabeth HillMarried Mary Ann Mackelprang 17 October 1900William Alonzo-Dixie
Died 14 December 1942 in Huntington
Buried in Huntington
1880 Census
1900 Census
1910 Census
1920 Census
1930 Census
This personal history was written in 1933 and originally transcribed by William's daughter, Pearl. She adds some more details at the end.
We, as genealogy workers, have been requested to write our life history that it might be of value to our children and our children’s children throughout time. To the best of my ability, I will write in my own words and language.
It is my belief that I was a spirit in the spirit world, and took part in the work of the Lord there. I merited the privilege of coming to this earth and taking a body of flesh and blood, that I might grow and develop. I have been born of good Latter-day Saint people. This has made it possible for me to know and learn of the Gospel.
I was born on January 11, 1877 at Fish Haven, near Bear Lake, Idaho. For miles around it is a meadow looking country, grass on three sides and the waters of the eight-mile long lake on the other. The winters were extremely cold. I am the fourth child in a family of four. My father, Phineas Howland Cook, was accidentally killed while riding on a load of hay three months before I was born. (The jolt of the wagon caused a loaded gun to discharge, piercing his lungs, he died at once.)
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| Visiting his birthplace at Bear Lake |
Our humble dwelling was constructed of logs forming a two-room home. My father’s brother William, was my mother’s housemaid and helper and for him I was named. This brother was only 11 years old.
Well do I remember when I was five years old, our old Browny cow had a little calf. I went with Mother to milk the cow. While she was milking, the cow spied me standing by. She made a lunge for me, I ran for the fence. As I started to climb she put her nose in the seat of my pants and helped me through in a hurry. I was sure scared. Another cow, old Roan, had a little calf. I was on the stable admiring the little calf when a big white boar hog came into the corral. The cow at once took up a fight with the hog. She put her horns under his belly and threw the pig clear over her back. Again they went at it until my step-father came along and separated them.
It was always my pleasure to play a trick on someone. I and Uncle Hyrum Hill were playing a long the sidewalk between our place and Grandmother’s, we saw Uncle Sam Hill coming on a wild colt. I said, “Let’s scare that horse.” We lay down under the bushes by the fence and waited and as the horse came near we jumped out and threw out hats. The horse let in bucking and Uncle Sam was thrown off. Uncle Sam got on his feet and started for us. We ran for Grandmother’s and got under her apron. She prevented us from getting a very hard licking.
Another time Hyrum and I got angry at John Nelson, a neighbor farmer, for spite we tore down some panels of his fence. When Mother found it out she made us go back and fix it up. It wasn’t so much fun after all.
Another time some older boys persuaded me to go swimming with them. On our way we passed Bishop Stoker’s apple orchard. Those boys got me to go in and swipe apples for them. Being a child, I had no better sense than to do as I was told.
When I was only four years old, I felt quite sure of myself on riding horses. Mother called to me to go and call the men who were working in the hay field to dinner. I asked Chris if I could ride little Frank back. He put me on and I started through the field for home. The men followed in a wagon. I kicked the horse with my legs. He first trotted, then loped, then ran. I was alright till I came to a turn in the road. The horse turned the corner but I went straight into a big pool of water. My step-father came along and pulled me out of the water and had a good laugh at my expense.
Bear Lake was a body of water 8 miles wide and 22 miles long, a beautiful sight in the summer time. I liked to sit on the bank and see the fish dance in the water. Winters were very cold. The snow would fall so deep, then the wind would blow and drift the snow. The people in sleighs could ride over the top of the fences. We could put a plank on one end of the house and the other end on the snow bank and walk straight across. The snow and wind was so bad we couldn’t get out to feed the cattle for three days when they did get out they found thirty-five head of cattle had frozen to death in the corral. I remember seeing the larger boys and girls skating on the lake and playing pussy wants a corner. One man fell and cracked the ice.
At school we would wrestle and fight for sport with the teacher being the referee. One noon I took Ernest Stoke’s hat and dared him to get it back. We fought until we were given out and then the teacher called it a tie. We lived six miles from the school room. In mid-winter I had to stay home from school because of the extreme cold weather.
In the year of 1884 in June my parents moved to Huntington. We started out with a herd of cattle. I was then seven years of age. I rode a horse and helped my Uncle drive the cattle. We drove them as far as Evanston, Wyoming. There we sold all but one old favorite cow named “Lucy” that Mother was determined to bring to Huntington. But when we got as far as Heber City they were so tired of loading her that they sold her for $50. The herd of 73 head was sold to a man by the name of Carlyle.
While we were camped in a meadow, an Indian came to camp. My step-father bought a gun from him. Though only a boy of 7 ½ years I rode a horse most of the way and helped my brother and Uncle Joe Hill drive horses from there to Huntington.
I well remember the first railroad train we came to. The horses became frightened and ran. Before we could get them turned my mother became so frightened that they stopped the team and my Uncle Joe got on a work horse and followed me to help me get the horses back to camp. The next day as they were crossing Weber river one of the horses got her foot caught in the bridge. The poles began to roll and her leg went through. They cut the tug and breast strap and let her fall through, into the stream. She swam back on the side they had gone in on and started back to Bear Lake on the run. Uncle Joe got on the other horse and had to run three or four miles before he could catch her.
In Heber City I saw a yellow horse, I guess it was a broncho. It would buck and then rare over backwards. While traveling up Heber canyon, we saw the beautiful water falls pouring over the ledges 50 to 100 feet high. The water was surrounded with green moss and beautiful scenery. We traveled up to the head of the canyon and over the mountain.
I don’t remember the name of the country from there until we came through Provo City. This is the first time in my life I had seen nice brick buildings. From there we left the valley and went into the canyon and over the top of the mountain into what was called the Park. We camped by a stream of water and some trees. It rained a little and the wind blew very hard. That morning, Mother kept me in the wagon. I lost my hat and had to go bare-headed until we got to Price.
From Price we came on to Huntington. The roads were not much more than a trail. From Sage brush bounce we had to roof lock down the hills. Finally we arrived on the north side of Huntington and moved into a house that belonged to William Howard. This was the 23rd of July 1884. The next day being the 24th, my step-father hitched a team onto a wagon and fetched us kids over to the first celebration we spent in Huntington. The water was so high in crossing the river that the water came into the wagon box and we all got wet.
The Jens Neilson family were our first neighbors. We lived there three weeks, then we bought a house and lot off Bill Woodward three blocks west of the meeting house. We also bought a farm from Enoch Woodward in Huntington Canyon, later known as the Heber Brockbank farm. In the fall we bought a lot from Hank Leonard, dug a cellar and built two log rooms and moved into it before winter.
We had no feed for our cows. I had to stay home from school and herd them until the snow got too deep. I took then down below town on what is known as the Roper wash. I herded in the fields wherever I could get a chance. The next spring we moved to the canyon farm and lived there for the summer. I herded cows in the hills with my step-father’s brother Bill. He couldn’t talk the American language so I learned to talk the Danish language from him. My Mother would laugh to hear me talk to him.
We had to walk to town whenever we went to Sunday School. There was only a trail and the prickly pears were so thick. Mother had a black two-year- old mare, we called her Puss. She told John Jensen he could ride Puss if he wanted to. He waited until us children were on our way to Sunday School then caught the black colt and rode down to where we were in the flat above town. My sister Ann wanted to ride the colt so John helped her on. She rode a little way when the wind blew her shawl, the mare became frightened and threw her off. Then I wanted to ride, something went wrong and she threw me off. I lit flat on my back in the cow trail between two big beds of prickly pears. John laughed at us and said he could ride her. He rode her for about 50 yards and then she threw him off in the dirty road. He tried it again, this time she didn’t buck. He then left us and went on into town. We went to Sunday School, then all walked home – four miles.
That summer we raised a lot of sugar cane. We got a molasses mill and made several hundred gallons of Molasses. Then next summer we bought a farm just above town where we have farmed ever since.
The farms at that time were not fenced. I was then nine years of age. My responsibility was doing chores night and morning and herding cows and pigs during the day. I had to keep the animals from the growing crops. As soon as one piece would be cleared, they were then allowed on that piece. Other boys of my age were herding with me. We would get to play and at times the cows would get the best of us. About the third time this happened I had to herd alone.
One fall I was herding six cows and a dozen pigs on a three-acre piece, with a patch of corn on one side and a patch of cane on the other. In order to keep them out of mischief I would have to run ‘til my legs would ache most of the night. It was, get up in the morning, and start on the same job each day. We had one old cow named Pink. If she would see me on one side of the patch she would throw her head in the air and start for the other side. By the time I got her turned back the pigs were gone.
If anyone thinks it’s fun to herd pigs and cows with a patch of corn on one side and cane on the other they should try it. When the folks learned I was crying part of the night with my aching legs they let my sister Cad help me at times. By the time I was twelve years old they had some pastures fenced and that ended my herding days at home. However the last summer I had a dog to help me whose name was Watch.
One day my brother Melvin’s horse strayed away. He couldn’t find him so he begged me to find the horses and he would herd the cows if I would leave him the dog. I went into the hills to hunt the horse. As soon as the dog missed me he ran way to find me. He missed my tracks and wandered to the canyon farm. The renter, O. R. Rasmusson had been mission mutton that he had been hanging out at nights. When he saw old Watch coming, he decided he was the thief. He at once got his gun and shot my dog. When he found out is was my dog and learned the particulars, he came and offered my parents the best cow he owned for making the mistake.
Times were hard and we had no shoes for every day wear. Prickly pears were every where. Each night my feet would be full of nasty slivers. When the slivers were pulled out it left our feet sore and bleeding. One day they let me ride old brown Nell on an errand. She stumbled and I fell off on my back. She came down with one foot on either side of me. It was a narrow escape of being busted wide open.
When I was fifteen I was going down to John Brasher’s wedding dance. The old mare stumbled and keeled over with me again. The horn of the saddle struck the calf of my leg. It broke the horn and cracked the bone in my leg which caused me pain ever after.
One night as I was going to the river to water the horses with some other boys, the horse I was riding ran away. He went onto the pond of ice and fell and hurt me very badly. Henry Oviatt and Ira Whitney were there with their mules and sleigh. They put me on their sleigh and started for home. They were nearly to my home before they could see signs of life in my body. For four days I was only semiconscious. My whole left side was badly bruised. Those men thought it was a miracle when I got well.
It was in 1886, that the people were building a new school house. We boys would go and get the men to let us carry bricks and adobes. I was passing through a door with a wheel barrow of bricks, when one of the masons above accidentally dropped a brick. It hit me on the head and hurt me very bad.
In 1887 the men and boys of the town went back into the hills and dug big flat rocks out of the ledges and hauled down to make a foundation for the old Meeting House. The logs were brought out from what is known as Meeting House canyon. This was all donation work. I remember well, I helped out the willows that were used for a lath so they could plaster inside the building. This house was used for Meeting, dances and all gatherings of the ward. At last it was accidentally burned down.
The
new Meeting house was built by donation about the same time. The people
made the bricks and the adobes. My step-father gave a horse and $150 in
labor and produce.I started riding the range in 1891 when I was 14 years of age, that, farming and stock raising, has been my life’s work. Many is the wild horse I have tamed down for saddle horse. I rode bronchos for other people.
In 1898, when I was 22 years of age it was one Sunday at my Mother’s home on the farm that Walter Rowley, Dell Brown, and myself were talking about our girl friends and looking into the future. We dared each other to build a home before we were married. The next morning I started to level the ground and lay the foundation for my house. The other two boys went back on it. I went right ahead and during the summer I built a two-room brick home. When the walls were partly up old Lee Lemmon and George Collard were riding on horses down the lane, looking over where the building was going on. George said, "What kind of a box will Billy be in if his girl quits him." George was so sure that Billy’s girl was going to change her mind and take him instead. Lee in his gruff way said, "Huh. He would be in a damn good way to get another."
The two rooms were finished in the fall of 1898 and my sister Zora lived in it that winter. Her daughter Gladys was born there. The following spring she moved out. The house was painted and the lawns were put in. On 17 October, 1900 in the Manti Temple I married Mary Ann McElprang, a girl of noble character who has made me what I am today.
In 1906, I was made a member of the Cattle Board Association. I served for six years and then became Vice-President for two years. In 1914 I became President. I served for three years. In 1917 my name came up again. Having been in so many years, I declined to act. M. S. Black was put in as President and I was put in as Vice-President. The next election in 1919, I was again put in as President and remained in this office until this year, 1933 when I was re-elected again. (He continued as President until his death 14 December 1942.)
In 1908 I was elected as board member in the Huntington canal, served two years, and re-elected again in 1912 serving four years. In 1916 I was made Vice President of the General Company. I served for four years and in 1920 I was made chairman of the company. In January 1920 I was defeated over some trouble that took place between the canal board and the city counsel, over the water rights between city and the canal; but I proved that I was in the right. I was then out for two years and then in 1922 I was put back in the board again. I served as a board member from then through all the law-suits with the Lawrence canal people and the Huntington canal. Also the Huntington Canal company and the Cleveland Canal, and helped to consolidate all the canals into one company. I then served on the board until January 1932 until I was defeated because I would not buy an office from anyone.
Here he leaves off. The balance of this history is taken from his every day diary book and other town records.
He was a member of the Public Domain Advisory Board of District no. 7 from its beginning in 1935 with the exception of one year up until his death. He headed and supervised the following projects:
Trimbel Canyon Reservoir Round Knole Reservoir
Cow Flat Pond Red Point Pond
Church Flat Pond Humbug Reservoir, No. 1
Joe Nielson Reservoir Stove Gulch Reservoir, No. 2
Cattle Fences:
Mahrland fence
Otteson Holl fence
State road to Otteson’s on North side of river
Wilberg fence
He was one of the founders of Emery County Herford Day beginning September 1938. Arranged and installed the big scales in the public corral for weighing cattle, and supervised the improvements on the Public Corral.
In the Public Domain meetings in Price, he was called the Huntington Bishop because he did not join the fellows in smoking and drinking. But they all respected him as Senior Head.
In the winter of 1935 he punched dams in the head of Huntington Canal nearly every day to keep the water coming.
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| With siblings at Bear Lake |
He was agent for the Improvement Era beginning in 1933, for eight years. He was a member of the Genealogical Committee in 1924 with Presidency U. W. Grange, L. W. Johnson, and F. M. Guymon, Jennie Howard and Anna B. Sandberg. After U. W. Grange was released, Father was sustained as Chairman. He served as Chairman for several years. L. W. Johnson and F. M. Guymon were Counselors with Mary Ann Cook as Secretary; Jennie Howard, Anna B. Sandberg, Lilly Engle, class leader, and later William Guy Cook as class leader (1928-31).
In 1929 he did 29 endowments for the dead and many from then on after. He and Hyrum Rasmussen of Castle Dale, filled a three-month Stake Mission beginning 22 January 1920 (Rochester & Emery).
He and his wife were members of the Old Folks Committee in 1920-1924.
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| William as Brigham Young in 1936 |
Five years or more prior to his death, he and Heber C. Brockbank served as a special committee for the Bishopric and Priesthood helping to solve dissatisfied problems of the ward among the members. This calling was not made public.
Priesthood Ordinations:
He was ordained a Deacon
He was ordained an Elder in the Spring of 1900
He was ordained a Seventy 28 October 1907
He was ordained a High Priesthood, by J. Frank Killian 4 February 1928
High Priesthood ordination lineage:
William Alonzo Cook ordained a High Priest, 4 February 1928, by J. Frank Killian, who was ordained a High Priest, 29 July 1902, by Roger Clawson, who was ordained an Apostle 10 October 1898, by Lorenzo Snow, who was ordained an Apostle 12 February 1849, by Heber C. Kimball, who was ordained an Apostle, 14 February 1835, by Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery were ordained to the Melchizedek Priesthood 16 June 1829, by Peter James and John.
In July 1942 while irrigating in the field, he slipped and fell onto a bunch of dry willows. A broken willow ½ inch in diameter punchered his face. He refused to go to a doctor. Little did he realize there was anything wrong with his face other than a sore spot. Time passed. After nineteen days I insisted on him going to the Doctor. He said, “If there is anything there you can get it out.” After disinfecting a sharp pocket knife and tweezers; and, after five attempts of pulling with the tweezers, I pulled a plug from his face. It measured ½ inch wide and 1 1/4 inches long.
In October 1942 the team ran away with him. The wagon struck the corner of the stack-yard fence and tipped over and pinned him under the wagon. He kept a hold of the lines all this time. By the time help could get to him, he had succeeded in getting out from under the wagon. The hurt he received in his left side, he never recovered from.
Father was 5 feet 7 inches tall, average weight of 155 pounds, and medium complexion. His skin was very fair. He was a commanding figure in the community. He was plain spoken and fierceless in his expression; slow in making decisions and firm in his convictions; unselfish and loyal to his associates, and truly hones to all men. A more affectionate person never lived, always jolly and wished to make everyone around him happy with such characteristics his comrades cherish his memory.
After an illness of pneumonia of thirteen days, he passed away 14 December 1942. His last words were: “If I can live and be of service, I would like to live, and if not I am ready to do. I want to be put to work as soon as I get there.
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