Flippin, Kentucky

Last week I was contemplating using my Great Grandfather's (Jacob F. Miller) journal as the basis of some posts, so I pulled out my copy and started re-reading it. In the process I noticed that for a short time he and his companion traveled across the state line into Kentucky. As luck would have it, I was just given a client (from my day job) that is in the very same area of Kentucky. So when it was time to pay them a visit, I thought why not drive along the route he took on the way home, maybe take some pictures, see what it was like. Later on I will share some of what he wrote about his side trip, but for now I'll just share what I found.

My first stop was a small town named Flippin. I kid you not. When I shared with my client where I was going she just said "That's not much more than a stop sign." (imagine it with a really smooth Kentucky drawl). She under estimated it a little, but not by much.

I did find the post office. But I'm not sure it was being used.

As you can see, I did pick the best day, weather-wise, for a road trip. It was cold, overcast, and windy, but at least it wasn't raining - yet.

At Flippin, my ancestor scheduled a sermon for 11:00 am Sunday morning at a local school called the Boyd School House. Fortunately for me it was still standing, or so the internet said. There was even a photo, from 2008, but I wanted one of my own. Poor directions forced me to do some digging. And a good thing I did. This far away from, well, ANYTHING, meant that my mobile phone based GPS did not work. (Note to self. Bring the Satellite based GPS next time) And it was so cold no one was outside, and try as they might cows do not give good directions. I was entirely dependent on the paper maps I printed.

Eventually the Boyd School gave up its secrets. It was in much worse shape than the photo I had seen from only 6 years earlier. But clearly the same building.

The rain started falling each and every time I got out of the car, and stopped while I was driving. I eventually gave up and just rolled down my window when I wanted a photo. Dressed as I was (a suit and tie from my last client meeting) I didn't want to do much walking around anyway. The country side was mostly rolling hills, which made for short horizons. There were several barns, placed in green and brown fields. Cattle was the most common agricultural use, as well as goats, hay, and what appeared to be the remnants of rows of corn.

Below is the "bridge" over Peter Creek. It consisted of poured concrete over 6 inch culvert pipes. I hadn't seen a bridge like that since I moved east, and I visit a lot of out of the way places.

Into this beautiful, yet stark environment I placed my great grandfather. I was there in March at the end of winter. He was there in early December, just before winter started. He and his companion spent a couple days wandering around meeting people, trying to drum up attendees for Sunday's meeting. I imagined Elders Miller and Wilson's visit was as lonely as mine. He wrote...

It rained some during the night and we found poor prospects for a meeting. We went the schoolhouse, kindled a fire and awaited results. A small audience gathered expressing themselves as being desirous of hearing us and we concluded to hold a short meeting.

They left immediately after lunch, heading south to Tennessee, never to return. I, however, will be back.

Wilford Woodruff and Benjamin Clapp

One of the interesting stories Wilford relates of his mission while serving alone in Tennesse is of his ride through a storm. Except that he was riding between two branches in Kentucky, and so was not likely in Tennessee. Though not really happening in Tennessee, I include it because it gives us a good idea of how Wilford operated on his mission.

From his Autobiography we read this.

November 15.--While traveling in the night, with Brother Benjamin L. Clapp and others, a tremendous storm of wind and rain overtook us. We came to a creek which had swollen to such an extent by the rain, that we could not cross without swimming our horses; several of the company were females. We undertook to head the stream, to ford it; but in the attempt, in the midst of the darkness and the raging of the wind and rain, we were lost in the thick woods, amidst the rain, wind, creeks and fallen treetops. We crossed streams nearly twenty times. I was reminded of Paul's perils by water; but the Lord was merciful unto us in the midst of our troubles, for while we were groping in the dark, running the risk of killing both ourselves and animals, by riding off precipitous bluffs, a bright light suddenly shone round about us, and revealed our perilous situation, as were upon the edge of a deep gulf. The light continued with us until we found a house, and learned the right road; then the light disappeared, and we were enabled to reach the house of Brother Henry Thomas, at nine o'clock, all safe, having rode twenty miles, five hours in the storm; and we felt to thank the Lord for our preservation.

In "Wilford Woodruff: History of his life and labors as recorded in his daily journals" edited by Matthias F. Cowley, we read a slightly different version of the events.

At the close of the meeting I mounted my horse to ride to Clark's River, in company with Seth Utley, four other brethren, and two sisters. The distance was twenty miles. We came to a stream which was so swollen by rains that we could not cross without swimming our horses. To swim would not be safe for the women, so we went up the stream to find a ford. In the attempt we were overtaken by a severe storm of wind and rain, lost our way in the darkness, and wandered through creeks and mud. But the Lord does not forsake His Saints in any of their troubles. While we were in the woods suffering under the blast of the storm, groping like the blind for the wall, a bright light suddenly shone around us and revealed to us our dangerous situation on the edge of a gulf. The light continued with us until we found the road; we then went on our way rejoicing though the darkness returned and the rain continued. We reached Brother Henry Thomas' in safety about nine o clock at night having been five hours in the storm and forded streams many times. None of us felt to complain but were thankful to God for His preserving care. On the following day I preached at Damon Creek and organized a branch called Damon Creek Branch and ordained Daniel Thomas a teacher.

I like reading who was there. I start to think, did one of these people with him write their version of the events? Unfortunately, neither Seth Utley nor Benjamin Clapp wrote anything about the events.

Set Utley you can find here.

Benjamin Clapp was born in West Huntsville, Alabama and was baptized in Kentucky probably by Elders Patten and Parrish sometime before February 26th, 1836 when he was ordained a priest by Wilford Woodruff. Brother Clapp emigrated to Far West, Missouri and fought in the Battle of Crooked River at which Elder Patten was killed. He escaped to Illinois with the rest of the saints and was called on a mission to Alabama. After his return he was ordained as one of the Seven Presidents of the Seventy. After the move to Utah, he had a disagreement with Bishop Warren S Snow. As a result he was excommunicated and he left for California where he died a year later.