Change is Painful

In less than a week my ward will go through a boundry change. That in and of itself is nothing odd in the Mormon experience. Boundry changes are common place in areas where the church is growing (or shrinking). What is odd is that neither is the case for my ward. Yes, we have had a handfull of baptisms. But between births, deaths, move-ins, move-outs, conversions and a few drifting into inactivity, our size has remained pretty constant.

Our ward is made up of the greater part of two counties. The county I live in had its own branch about 10 years ago, but economic changes meant that people were moving out and soon we had too few people for a branch. At one point there were less than half a dozen members in the town and no priesthood holders. That has turned around in the last two years and we almost have enough for a branch again. And it is an active group. Almost a third of the ward leadership was from our county. You know the same group of people who do most of the work? I guess it takes a certain dedication to drive 30 miles one way to go to church.

Rumors started flying when the presidencies of the Relief Society, the Primary, and the Young Women were all reorganized on the same Sunday. None of the newly called sisters were from our county. So people began speculating what that meant. Maybe we might finally get our branch back.

At this point I have to point out that several people, some close friends of mine, already knew what was going on. But Mormon culture dictates that we not talk about it, if we know, to those who don't know. So I did what we all would do. I started fishing for answers. I pretended like I knew and sooner or later peices start to slip out. What's the expression about any two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead? In this case it wasn't just two people. (Our tendency to non-transparent decision making would be another post altogether).

In my adventures in Mormon history, I meet lots of members outside my local circle. My first hint of what was going on came from someone outside my stake. Several of the stakes in Tennessee have grown large. They often have 12 or more units. The stake next to ours was no exception. They wanted to split, but several units were branches, not wards. The answer was to change the stake boundries to include my county, then the it could be combined with the branch in the county just east of us to create a ward. That with a few other similar changes will allow the stake to split late in April.

Now, I'm not one to begrudge the church opportunities for growth, but this must be inspired because the benefits are not obvious. Our new ward building (it has already been built) will be further away - and smaller - than our old one, and the only route to get there is on narrow curvy roads. Our new stake center will be even further way, almost twice as far, as our current one. Sigh.

The growth is necessary. The changes will allow for growth. Change, however, is painful.

William Allen Aden: Artist and Adventurer

William was born near Paris, in Henry County, Tennessee in 1838 to Sidney Bennett Aden (1806-1879) and Delilah H. Brown (1809-1889). He was handsome, six feet tall with blue eyes and dark hair. When he was a young man, a Mormon missionary came through town by the name of William Laney (1815-1891). While Elder Laney was preaching in front of the court house, William Aden and a few of his friends, secured a small canon and set it up on the other side of the building. Without warning they set off the canon, with the intent of surprising the missionary. It was more successful than they had hoped, Laney was so sure that an armed mob was upon him that he immediately fled the scene. On his rush out of town, he ran into William's father Dr. Sidney B. Aden who assured the Elder that he would protect him. Only after taking the missionary to his home was the truth of the prank fully revealed, including William's participation.

William was an artist. In addition to painting, he wrote poetry and played the banjo "tolerably". Letters from his father and brother, however, both describe him as an artist, and from their descriptions and the jobs he took, he was quite good. To earn a living he painted signs, but he was interested in so much more. So when the opportunity arose, he set off for California in search of adventure.

While in Wyoming, he met a member of the Provo Theatre Company who recognized William's talent and offered him work painting scenes for the theatre. William seemed to like the idea. He wrote his father telling him he was going to spend the winter in Provo painting for the theatre and continue on to California in the spring.

When he arrived in Provo, however, something changed his mind. Perhaps he heard rumors of the coming war. So instead of staying to work he joined a group of Mormons heading south. He hoped he would catch up with a wagon train heading to California.

At Parowan he caught up with the wagon train while they were camped outside the town walls. The town was under orders not to trade with any wagon train, except for small amounts of grain. While they were making their trade, William recognized a man from his past, Elder Laney, who his father had sheltered in Paris, Tennessee a few years earlier. William identified himself. Laney, who remembered it all, invited William to his home inside the fort. Laney was polygamist and at the time had two wives and they both lived in the same home. During the visit, William noticed some onions growing in the garden and asked about purchasing them. Laney, eager to repay the kindness William's father had shown him, immediately had them harvested and presented them to William as a gift. Laney later said he was beaten by town authorities for trading with the wagon train against specific orders. His life was saved by his two wives who dragged hin into the house away from the thugs.

The details of what happened to William after he left Parowan starts to diverge based on who is telling the story. From the various versions William appears to have been accepted into the wagon train, led by Alexander Fancher. Yes, the Fancher Party. The full story of what happened to the Fancher Party is beyond the scope of this post, but a day or so after the initial "Indian" attack, William was shot and killed by William C. Stewart. William Aden's murder and that fact that a witness made it back to the rest of the wagon train, was one of the pivotal events of the Massacre at Mountain Meadows.

William's family, and most particularly his father, spent years trying to track down William, even offering a reward of $1,000. They hoped that perhaps he was merely captured by Indians. It would be 1874 before William's family was convinced he had joined the Fancher party and was certainly dead.

Fast forward to the spring of 1884. While Elders John H. Gibbs and William H. Jones were traveling somewhere in west Tennessee, the two missionaries were accosted by two men with clubs who said they were angry about the death of a relative at Mountain Meadows. Jones, who spoke about the event with a newspaper reporter, had no idea who that relative might be. But in this case I believe it was William Aden they were angry about.

There were several people among those killed at Mountain Meadows who were born in Tennessee. In most cases, their parents had settled in Tennessee briefly before continuing on west to Arkansas. Plus nearly all of them were from counties east or south of Nashville. But William's  family still lived Tennessee. In addition, Aden's home in Henry County, Tennessee was very close to where Gibbs and Jones spent the first couple of weeks of their west Tennessee tour. 

The full extent of the attrocity at Mountain Meadows wasn't widely known at first, and even today more is being discovered. But certainly after John D. Lee published his book in 1877, most Tennesseans who knew about it at all would have correctly believed that it was perpetrated by the local Mormon residents in southern Utah. That a couple of relatives of William Aden's would have made a connection between two Mormon missionaries and William's death does not seem far fetched.

Others of the Fancher Party born in Tennessee:
Captain Alexander Fancher was born in Overton Co., Tenn., but left when he was a young man. He still had relatives there but many of them joined him when he settled in Arkansas.
Milum Lafayette Rush was born in Rhea Co., and lived in Meigs Co., Tenn. before he moved to Arkansas
Three of the Huff Children were born in Meigs Co., Tenn., before their parents moved to Arkansas
Mary M. Wharton & Nancy Jane Wharton were from Lawrence Co., Tenn., before they moved to Arkansas
Jesse Dunlap, Jr. was born in Warren Co., Tenn., before he moved to Arkansas
Cynthia Tackitt was born somewhere in Tennessee before she moved to Arkansas
Armilda S. Miller Tackitt was born somewhere in Tennessee before she moved to Arkansas
Silas Edwards born in Hickman Co., Tenn., before he moved to Arkansas
Charles Roark Mitchell was born somewhere in Tennessee before he moved to Arkansas
Allen P. Deshazo born in Hickman Co., Tenn., before he moved to Arkansas

Most of what I really need to know about Mormon History I learned at Keepapitchinin

Most of what I really need to know about Mormon history, I learned at Keepapitchinin. Wisdom was not at the bottom of a stack of esoteric theology books, but there on the internet in a faith friendly environment.


These are the things I learned: Provenance is everything. Anything that happened before 1847 is prehistoric. Mormons knew nothing about Marijuana in the 20th century. Sugar is good for you and patriotic too. Funny bones and Latter Day Saint Images, enough said. There are some ads you are not going to see again anytime soon. And no pioneer no matter how lost doesn’t stay lost forever.

Lab rats are an essential bridge between modern eating and historic recipes. Codes and ciphers have a long and glorious tradition. It is always important to be honest with yourself. Some beards are good, some are better and some are the best. Remember the bandelos. There is nothing wrong with a graphic art version of the scriptures. Cats of all sizes were known in the Lion house, though not always welcome. If you have a question, ask it. Catherine Hurst has an answer for everything, even if you don’t know the question. Usually it’s “ask your mother.”

Brigham Young, George Q. Cannon, and everyone else received and sent letters. So do we.

And then remember about John M. Bernhisel and the first territorial library? Yes, everything you need to know is in there somewhere. Conference wordles, and detective stories, and serial fiction and magazine covers and the lives of little known saints.

Think of what a better world this would be if we all – the whole world – had green jello casserole every day. Or if the basic policy of all churches was that history, no matter how uncomfortable it makes us feel, should be cherished and preserved because it is the one thing that is truly ours.

An Easter Message

[What follows is a talk my eight year old son gave in primary. The words are his. I typed as he spoke and checked the spelling.  And changed the order a few sentences. But the words are his.]

Jesus is my savior and redeemer because he died for me and he is the son of God.

He lived his life so I would know how to do the right things. He got baptized so that I would know I should get baptized. He healed some people so that we would know we should help people who need help. He teaches people so that we all can learn about him. He tells us to love our enemies, even if we don’t like them.

Jesus will forgive us when we do something wrong. But first we must repent. When you repent you ask someone to forgive you for doing something wrong. You say you are sorry and promise not to do it again. If you don’t do it again Jesus will know you are really sorry.

He was put on a cross and got nails put in him. It was painful. But it was God’s plan for him. He was perfect. Everybody else isn’t perfect. He never did anything wrong, but we do. Jesus took the punishment for all the bad things we do. So if Jesus forgives you, you won’t be punished.

He died for us and was resurrected so that we may get resurrected too. That means we will live again when he comes back to the earth.

I know Jesus loves me, and will forgive me, and help me live again. That is why he is my savior and redeemer. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Christmas in Nauvoo

It is December 1843. In the Nauvoo the saints have gathered in the homes of friends and family to celebrate the birth of the savior. At the Prophet's home there was feasting, dancing, and an unexpected guest in the person of Orrin Porter Rockwell.

In December 2010. In the Tennessee countryside a ward Christmas party was held where there was also feasting (OK, the fare was pretty simple to be honest, but still tasty. Some beef stew and corn bread. I think the youth could have spent one activity making home made butter and then served it that night), music (Christmas carrols, of course. Sadly no dancing), and a story about how Rockwell crashed the 1843 Christmas party. There were booths where you could make pioneer style christmas ornaments, make donations of canned food (isn't canned food a little anachronistic?), select a name from the angel tree, tour the "museum" to see maps, biographies, and artifacts from Nauvoo. After dinner the Scovil Bakery opened up with lots of goodies for those who want early onset diabetes (sugar really is the Mormon heroin). Along the halls was a timeline describing the six years the saints were in Illinois. And at each booth were descriptions of places in Nauvoo, from the Red Brick Store to the Mansion House. I wanted to put together a scenery of the martyrdom, just like the one set up in the Masonic hall in the real Nauvoo in 1845 by Philo Dibble, but I wasn't on the committee so maybe next time.

My part was to post short biographies and journal quotes of people living in Nauvoo with some kind of connection to Tennessee. Some had descendants now living in the ward, like the sons of Abraham Church, William Draper Jr., and Pattie Sessions. Others served missions in Tennessee like Esaias Edwards or Alexander Williams. And some were from Tennessee, like Moses Sanders and Jonathon Browning. It was fun and people liked reading them. I was surprized how many people called me over to the wall and pointed to one of the photos saying "I'm related to this person!" Then we'd talk about how and share stories about people I should have met but who passed away too soon.

A few got in the spirit of the event and dressed the part. OK, so maybe just a handfull. Too bad though. I picked up my entire outfit from a local thrift store for $6.50. All I had to add was a pair of brown shoes. My children followed suit.

Pioneering Article

[For background on why I wrote this click here]

The Mormon pioneering movement began in 1847 and lasted through 1868. Throughout those 22 years, over 250 companies and 60,000 people answered the call to “come to Zion”. The most commonly held images are of people riding and walking beside Conestoga style covered wagons or pushing and pulling handcarts filled with all their belongings. But companies were also organized to bring food, supplies, and equipment. A few pioneers even came west by ship to California, the Brooklyn being the most famous, and then onward to the Great Basin.

The first pioneer companies arrived in the spring of 1847. These companies were made of hand-picked individuals that were given specific tasks to ensure the success of later pioneers. This included planting crops, building roads, ferries and shelter to prepare the way for the thousands who were expected to follow. Brigham Young arrived in the Great Basin on July 24, 1847, an event now commemorated as Pioneer Day in Utah.

Proven leaders were selected to captain each company. Companies were organized into groups of 100, and subdivided into groups of 50 and 10. Some companies were created as early as the fall of 1845 in Nauvoo, Illinois, to prepare for the expected move west. These companies combined resources to purchase food, supplies, livestock and raw materials like iron. They cooperated to build wagons and much needed equipment. In subsequent years, companies were organized in other cities in the mid west, such as Iowa City, Iowa.

Gathering to “Zion” was considered as much a communal responsibility as an individual one. Those who were able to get their own families to the Great Basin were sent back to bring others who were without the means to come on their own. In 1849, a “perpetual emigration fund” was set up to assist the poorer Mormons who could not afford to leave their temporary homes in Iowa. Started with donations and Church support, the fund was to be replenished over time by those who benefited. While never a financial success, it succeeded in gathering many who would not have been able to do so otherwise. It was later expanded to bring converts from Europe as well.

As the fund ran low on money, more efficient means were devised to bring Saints to Zion. One such effort was the use of handcarts instead of wagons. Ten handcart companies were organized between 1858 and 1860. Only two of them, the Martin and Willie Companies, ran into severe problems. Trapped by early snows, many perished before rescue parties arrived from Utah.

Regardless of how the pioneers traveled, most of them came along the same trail. Even if not in the same company, this created a shared, unifying, faith-building experience. Pioneers were driven by persecution, experienced hunger, thirst, and fatigue, and yet found time to sing, dance and pray together. Many died, though not in greater numbers than those travelling to Oregon or California.

The pioneering period came to a close with the completion of the transcontinental railroad on May 10, 1869.

Mormon Battalion Article

[For background on why I wrote this click here]

The Mormon Battalion was a volunteer Army unit of around 500 men. This unit, commanded by U. S. Army officers, and otherwise consisting exclusively of Mormons, served from July 1846 to July 1847. During their enlistment, the Battalion marched about 1,900 miles from Council Bluffs, Iowa to San Diego, California.


Earlier in 1846, Brigham Young had written a letter to Elder Jesse C. Little, a Mormon missionary in New England, instructing him to secure a contract to provide men for the creation of an Army to protect U.S. interests in the west. Young wished to demonstrate the Mormons’ loyalty to the U. S. government and earn some much needed cash to pay for their migration to the Rocky Mountains. Before Elder Little arrived in Washington DC, however, war broke out with Mexico. After meeting with Elder Little, President James Polk agreed to enlist 500 men.

Accordingly, Captain James Allen arrived at Mount Pisgah, Iowa on July 1st 1846, to enlist 500 volunteers to aid in the Mexican American War. But it took Brigham Young’s influence to persuade men to join. After three weeks, they left for Leavenworth, Kansas for outfitting and training. The muster included over 30 women - 20 to work as laundresses - and over 50 children.

Those who enlisted were given a uniform allowance and wages eventually totaling to more than $71,000. Under the direction of Church officials much of this money was used to buy wagon loads of food and supplies to support the rest of the Mormon pioneers.

The Battalion’s first commander, the recently promoted Lieutenant Colonel James Allen, died shortly after they left Leavenworth. He was replaced temporarily by Lieutenant Andrew Jackson Smith. The Mormons, however, resented his strict adherence to military discipline. Once they reached Santa Fe, Lieutenant Colonel, Philip St. George Cooke arrived to take permanent command. Cooke proved to be well suited to the task of leading the Mormons. Cooke sent the remaining sick men, the women, and all of the children, to Pueblo, Colorado where they would spend the winter. Four of the women, wives of the officers, were allowed to stay.

On the journey from Santa Fe to San Diego, the Battalion fought only one battle, with wild bulls, near the San Pedro River in what would become Arizona. But they came close to fighting with Mexican troops outside Tucson on December 16, 1846. Inexplicably, the Mexican detachment temporarily left Tucson without firing a shot. Later that month they also happened upon the aftermath of the Temecula Massacre. Their presence allowed the surviving Luiseno Indians to bury their dead unmolested.

After arriving in San Diego, California on January 29th 1847, the Mormon Battalion occupied southern California. When their service ended on July 16th 1847, about 80 men re-enlisted for an additional six months. Only 22 Mormons in the Battalion died, all from natural causes. Battalion members built roads, dug wells, and a few were part of the discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill, before they made their way to Utah or back to Iowa.

Mormonism: A Historical Encyclopedia

A while back I was asked to contribute some articles for a historical encyclopedia. As compensation I was to receive a copy of the completed book. This doesn't void my amateur status does it? Well, a couple of weeks ago my copy arrived in the mail. Ardis and Paul did a wonderful job and I am proud to have played a small part in it. You can buy a copy, if you wish, but I think it is more for libraries and such. 

My articles are on the Mormon Battalion and on Pioneering.

Moving on Pioneer Day

For the last month I have been living between two homes. That means attending two different wards, and alternating homes from which I commute to work. I would take a few things from the old house to the new one every time I made the trip. In the process I had to select those items I thought we would need most. Inevitably there would be something we needed that we had not yet moved. So I’d make a note to retrieve that item on our next trip. I started to think about the saints leaving Nauvoo. Progress was slow and some saints found the time and opportunity to send someone back to their old home to retrieve something they forgot or decided they would need after all. The practice became so wide spread that Brigham Young even took the time to discourage it.

But on Saturday - Pioneer day – that came to an end. On Saturday we officially moved. I rented a truck and a few of my friends from each ward gathered to move the largest of the remaining items. Friends from the old ward gathered in the morning. It short order we loaded the beds, couches, and appliances I couldn’t move by myself over the last several weeks. We ate lunch, and reminisced about the last few years together. We shared parting gifts and experienced that rite of passage that helps us all deal with friends moving far away.

After our friends left, I drove the loaded truck south to the new home with my 12-year-old son riding in the cab with me. I was looking forward to this part. I moved a great deal when I was younger. My father was in the U. S. Navy. I don’t think I ever lived in a home more than three years. But family driving trips, including the moves, were always an opportunity to get one-on-one time with Dad. We each took our turns sitting at “shotgun”. Our job was to talk with Dad so he didn’t fall asleep at the wheel. If you were lucky he would share his stash of lemon drops from the glove compartment. I was always lucky. This time, however, my son fell asleep. It had been a long day already. Maybe I should have offered him some lemon drops.

Later that evening, after the heat of the day was over, friends from the new ward gathered to unload at the new home. The beds, couches, and appliances unloaded quickly. But it was more than just the task on which we worked. We ate dinner and got to know each other better. I learned about the house I was moving into: who built it and why he eventually moved out. Even the electrician we called on Monday asked “is that so-and-so’s house?” when I gave him the address. Of course, it was. Even though he hadn’t lived there in over 10 years, it would always be his house.

I have been part of many Elders Quorum moving service projects. Some have gone well, others turned out a little less organized than ideal. But the ones I have enjoyed the most have not been about how much was boxed up before we arrived. It was about working with friends, both old and new.

In my sanitized and idealized view of history that is what the pioneers had. They moved with friends and family, helping each other out. Some were more organized than others; more prepared than others. But it was together. There were opportunities to help those who needed it. Pioneer day, in one sense, was the ultimate Elders Quorum moving service project.

Changing Wards

I'm moving into a new Ward. In many ways the change is hard. We are leaving friends we have developed over years. The relationships are comfortable, even predictable. The reason for moving is not important. Most people move at least once or twice in their life. But in many cases the effect is the same. You have to change wards too.

Our new home is still in Tennessee. Our new ward is also in a new stake. You can count the stakes in Nashville on one hand, and you have to go pretty far out of town, counting as you go, before you need a seeond hand. When we have a five stake youth conference, it includes a stake in Kentucky. The Church in this area started in the area along the Tennessee river where it flows from Tennessee into Kentucky. So our area has history going back to 1834.

But that brings me back to my new ward. The area covers several counties. And the its roots go way back. Members of the ward can trace their ancestors to baptisms back in 1840. Rumors got around that I was some kind of historian and now people want to talk history. It is really nice. I'.m looking forward to learning about the local area from those who know it best. Along the way, I'll meet people who I would never have had the chance to know, no reason to to stop in the hallway between Sacrament meeting and Sunday School and say "I'd like to get to know you."

After just a week here, my wife said when we got home "It is really nice to have friends in the new ward already." Yes, we are moving into a new ward. But somehow I think it will be OK.

A layover in Salt Lake City

Business travel took me through Salt Lake City this week. It was an unexpected last minute change. It had been twenty years since I had been in that airport, so a few things had changed. The walk between concourses was pleasant. The designers of the airport thoughtfully included large windows everywhere so I could see the snow covered mountains in nearly every direction. I could also see downtown in the distance and I was reminded that my parents were born there, grew up there, even went to college there. My wife and I have family scattered all over this part of Utah.

I boarded my next plane and as we took off I looked at downtown Salt Lake one last time. I love Tennessee, but my roots aren't deep enough there yet. More than any place, the Salt Lake valley feels like where I am from. I’ve never lived there, nor is it likely I will ever live there. But a part of me claims it as my own.

My children are putting down roots in Tennessee and maybe they will feel like that is where they are from someday. But I hope they too will know that their ancestors came from the Wasatch Front. With parks and places named after their ancestors, there are roots for them to claim.

This is part of what history does for us. Through learning it we can connect to people and places we don't experience firsthand. And perhaps that is one reason I am searching Tennessee Mormon history the way I am.

For I am not embarrassed...

I have said before that we Mormons love our history. And we do. But the other day I wondered are we also embarrassed by our history. Intentionally or not, we ignore the parts that we don't like. I've done it too. Even some of our leaders tell us not all history is useful, even if it is true. Of course, they are right. Not every piece of history is edifying and uplifting. I don't study the various ways innocent people were killed in the horrific events of September 11th, 1857. I'm sure if I did I might not be able to sleep at night. (I don't sleep well at night anyway, but that is another story). I know the basics, but I'm not as interested in the details. It didn't happen in Tennessee. (wink)

We pick only the parts of our history that fulfill a specific purpose. We tell just those stories over and over again. We all know how the boy Joseph Smith bravely refused whiskey to deaden the pain of surgery on his leg. Or how Brigham Young saw a funeral procession after being told about plural marriage and how he wished he were in the casket instead of having to obey the principle he had just been taught. We re-tell them because they convey a view of the world with which we agree.

But cherry picking the good parts is not a bad thing. We do it in our personal lives. When I tell about my last vacation to Cades Cove, I don't go on about how the public restrooms were under construction. I tell the good stuff. And even years later I will filter through all my memories and tell just the best parts of the good stuff. What I don't tell are the memories about which I am embarrassed. That time at the school play in Angels Camp? (no, I am not telling you about it).

At the last Stake Conference the visiting General Authority (we get those once in a while out here in Tennessee) opened up the time for questions. He fielded the questions and then decided which stake, mission, or temple leader would answer it. When the obligatory question about polygamy came up, he answered it himself. "That was 100 years ago. Next question." I know that was not the time or place to discuss this issue. That was the time for practical, spiritual questions. No, that is not an oxymoron. He wanted questions that were important to our salvation. "How do we prepare our youth to operate in the world and not get lost in it?"  Questions about what happened 100 years ago are best discussed one on one. History is not a pressing issue in most people's lives. And when your job is to help people to deal with the pressing issues of their life, how can you spend time on something that happened 100 years ago.

I, however, live in history all the time. I am frequently confronted with plural marriage, Joseph's superstitious upbringing, and the pre-Talmage speculation on the nature of God. Because of that I am sometimes not satisfied with the "That was a hundred years ago" answer. But I needn't be. You see, I am not embarrassed with LDS church history. Just a little proccupied with one little part of it.

Ward Conference

I was sitting our ward conference last Sunday and I began to contemplate how this modern conference would fit into the context of the dozens of historic conferences about which I had read. It started with the sustaining of the Officers of the Church. The High Councilor was reading from a list of names, as he should, and the list included not only church-wide officers, but also stake and ward leaders. As he read, I thought to myself, that list is probably going into a history archive of some sort, or at least it should. I’d love to see a collection of such lists for any of the branches I have been studying. That and maybe the minutes.

Conference minutes are one of my chief sources about what happened at the various conferences in Tennessee. But they included not only who held what positions but what songs were sung, who said the prayers, who spoke and about what did they speak. Sometimes the list even included a list of attendees. I suppose that some of this is collected today, though certainly not all of it.

There are other sources too. Journals, letters, newspaper articles, and more recorded the events where branches were formed, leaders were called, released, or whatever. Ordinary people kept records too.

At the 1787 constitutional convention one delegate kept personal notes on each of the attendees. His notes are a rare window into the men who were there.

Our minutes are not as meticulous today as they were 125 years ago when the Southern States mission was just getting started. But there were about 200 people at our ward conference this year. I wonder how many might write something about today's conference.

Will historians 125 years from now lament the lack of records kept by ordinary people today? Are there missionary journals kept today that compare to the journals stored in the church archives? Do we save, or even write letters the way we used to? Do we record our life experiences as if we were documenting history? Maybe we, as historians, should remember to take some time create the type of documents we wish someone had created for the subject we are studying.

Did that really happpen? or Should I repeat a faith promoting lie?

I was talking with my wife last week about King Herod. Apparently she had recently read that Herod died in 4 B.C. and this indicates that there is something wrong with our calendar. Well, that wasn't much of a surprise to me. If the calendar was right, that would be a surprise. But it got me thinking, what if the whole King Herod killing the newborns because of the wise men story is not true? Would it shake my testimony of the divinity of Jesus? What about the universal flood? In fact, the real question is ... does the historicity of the scriptures make a difference?

As believers of "Mormonism" we accept that here are errors of translation in the Bible. But do we believe there are some thing that are just plain wrong? The people who put it together were not prophets, after all. They could not have known what to include and what not to include. I'm sure they made their best judgment. But their best judgment got us the Nicene Creed, after all. Can we really trust them?

The Book of Mormon is another issue altogether. Being put together under clearly divine direction, most Mormons accept the historicity of the Book of Mormon account, even without clear evidentiary proof. Yes, there are a handful of issues presented by the Book of Mormon not completely explained by scientists, yet. Over the years, however, that list is getting smaller. Scores of articles at what was once called FARMS describe and discuss these issues. I enjoy reading these articles from time to time. I particularly enjoy reading about the recently resolved ones. But I digress.

In the end I will base my answer to historicity question on the testimony I have. The spiritual experiences which form the basis of my testimony are not reliant upon whether every event in the scriptures happened as described. But perhaps for some people it would be an issue. So it gives me pause when I think about the history we are creating. Will the stories we tell about early Mormon history be better if they are accurate? Or do I not let the truth get in the way of a good story? I recently read this idea at JI; the Spirit can't testify of the truthfulness of an important event in church history if the story we tell is in fact not true. I can live with someone deciding they can't accept Mormonism because of polygamy or Mountain Meadows or the priesthood ban. But I don't want someone to decide that their testimony was false because something I said turned out not to be true after all.

Pioneers who came too late to count

The Mormon Pioneer Overland Travel Database covers a period that ends with the arrival of the railroad to Utah in 1869. It is a reasonable cut off. I would never suggest that cut off be changed. But pioneers continued to come for many years (and still do today, but that is the subject for some other blog). I'll admit pioneer may not be the right word. Perhaps pilgrim is more appropriate.

After the organization of the Southern States Mission in 1875, some mission presidents organized companies of saints to go to Zion. For as long as the mission was based in Chattanooga, sometimes once or even twice a year, a company left for the west. John Morgan was probably the first to really bring order to these companies. He negotiated purchase agreements with the rail companies. He assigned missionaries to accompany the emigrants, sometimes even going himself.

Andrew Jenson noted a particularly large company of eighty left on November 13, 1884 bound for Colorado and Utah. But no where have I been able to find lists of any of the these pioneers. That surprises me considering how meticulous we are about keeping records. Perhaps someday ......

But from Cane Creek I know a few names and approximate dates. It isn't a complete list, but it is a start.

Spring 1881 - Colorado

Blanton, Burwell
Blanton (nee Tatum), Emily
Whitwell, Susan Palthena
Whitwell, John Marshall
Whitwell, Osce Jackson

Autumn 1883 - Colorado
Lancaster, Rachel
Depriest, James Houston
Depriest (nee Talley), Margaret Eisabel
Depriest, Thomas Walker
Depriest (nee Talley), Margaret Ellen
Depriest, Pleasant W.
Depriest (nee Fuller), Martha E.
Depriest, Mary Jane
Depriest, Sarah A. L.
Depriest, William Jason

May 1884 - Utah
Westbrook, John Douglas
Shaw, Lavina
Turner, Nancy "Josie"

November 13, 1884 - Colorado
Talley, Elisha Freeland
Talley (nee Hudson), Barbara Ellen
Talley, Leona Evelyn
Talley, Andrew Jackson
Talley, Ulysses Britt
Talley, Lewis Scott
Lancaster, John M.
Lancaster (nee Talley), Sarah Elizabeth
Lancaster, Margaret
Lancaster, Mary Maude
Lancaster, Martha M.
Lancaster, John William
Lancaster, Elizabeth
Lancaster, Jesse Witfield
Sealy, William
Sealy (nee Talley), Mary Ann

We need to own the Truth

During a recent professional training class, we talked about the importance of owning the truth. In my field "owning the truth" means being proactive in dealing with problems. Yes, our software has issues. No software is perfect. But we must identify them first, before the client does. When we identify them we point them out to the client honestly and openly. Then we work on the solution. We keep the client updated on our progress. But the point is that we own the truth. We define it the way we want it defined. We don't want the defects in our product being whispered around because then our reputation is subject to rumor and misinformation. If we don't boldly tell the truth then the only story that gets told might be the lie.

So where am I going with this? What has it to do with Church history?

Last year a book was released about a shameful episode in Mormon History.I won't name it here, since I don't really want to discuss the specifics of that case. What I was impressed with was the effort to own the truth. Employees of the Church Historical Department made the effort to define the conversation, and to define it using verifiable facts. To control how people talk about you, you must do both.

Simply defining the conversation is not enough. We call that propaganda or spin. That would be easily debunked and actually harms our reputation in many cases.

Just stating the facts is not enough either. Facts are in and of themselves pretty boring (to most people). We can open the Church History Library to all the scholars in the world (and to troops of gum chewing, flip flop shod, Beehives if we want). But if we are not answering the question "so what?", then others will write our history and tell us what it means

I started writing about the Cane Creek Massacre because the primary source on the Web was not "ours." The most commonly accessed version of the Massacre was written by a man who really believed that the missionaries were guilty of vile misconduct, even though the evidence did not support that conclusion. So I did the research and wrote about what I found. At the time I didn't have a name for what I was doing. Now I know.

Confessions of a Mormon History Geek

Hi, my name is Bruce and I am a Mormon history geek. [Hi Bruce] I got excited when I heard the Joseph Smith Papers were going to be published. My favorite Christmas present was a copy of Making Sense of the Doctrine and Covenants by Steven C. Harper. I have willingly spent many lunch hours at the Tennessee State Archives in front of a microfilm reader looking at newspapers printed over a hundred years ago, in the hope of finding a previously unknown reference to Mormons. The last daytrip I took my family on was to the site of the Cane Creek Massacre where four Mormons were killed while attending church in 1884. If you think I should get a life, my wife would heartily agree. [OK, that’s not really true. My wife is very supportive. But let’s not allow the truth to get in the way of a good story.]

Mormons love their history. Maybe it has something to do with identifying our ancestors for temple work. Maybe it’s because historical events define us as being different from other churches. The apostasy and the restoration are historical event s. The truth of the Book of Mormon rests on its being a genuine (if incomplete) history. And it doesn’t stop there. We believe in the literal resurrection of Christ. That Adam, Noah and Abraham were real people. Our religion is joined at the hip to the real world. Everything is spiritual, even our history.

But I’m not a real historian. I’m more like the football fan that plays in the Elders’ Quorum Thanksgiving morning mudbowl game. I’m an amateur. To make up for what I don’t know I troll Mormon History Blogs. My personal favorite is Keepapitchinin. It is well written but not over-my-head academic like [an unspecified blog I try to read and understand]. Plus it doesn’t have the drama going on at [a different unspecified blog I read only sometimes anymore]. I’d be embarrassed if someone tried to compare me to Juanita Brooks or Leonard Arrington. In fact, I have two secret fears when it comes to Mormon history.

My first fear is that the next time I ask for some rarely used manuscript kept locked up in the climate controlled vault the archivist is going to look me in the eye and “know” that I’m not a real historian. In that moment I will be judged “not worthy” to gaze upon the secret knowledge and I’ll hear the words “no book for you” just like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. Of course it has never happened. But it might.

My second fear is that people will find out I don’t really know that much about church history. Oh sure, I know a few things. Mostly stuff I found out when someone tried to shake my testimony by revealing some deep dark secret from church history. I could almost feel their disappointment as I would say “Really? That’s so cool!” Of course, the details I would dig up would never match the story I was just told. Well, almost never matched. Presentation is everything. If you’ve heard that I tell my kids about an elf named “Claws” that sneaks into our house at night once a year to hide black rocks in the clothes of my naughty children, you might not want to visit my home next Christmas.

So what is your fascination with Mormon History? Does it consume your life? Do you lose sleep at night worrying that Marlin K. Jensen will be released as Church Historian and we will go back to the days of ”some things that are true are not very useful”? Do you fret over having missed the in-person crossfire between Will Bagley, Forrest Cuch, and Richard Turley about the Mountain Meadows Massacre? [They were actually very polite] You know who you are. Stand up, tell us you first name, and say “I am a Mormon History Geek.”

[Bruce has been playing at historian since before high school. He prefers the word “amateur” to geek.]

NPS and the Historic Mormon Trail

On a recent trip through Nebraska, my family and I stopped at the Great Platte River Road Archway. It had, as tourist traps go, a surprising amount of historical interest. While there we picked up materials on the various NPS (National Park Service) maintained historic trails that converged on that spot in Nebraska.

There are four of them; The Oregon Trail, The California Trail, The Mormon Trail, and the Pony Express. While reading the material I noticed the symbols the NPS used. The Pony Express used a rider on a horse (no surprise there), the Oregon Trail used a covered wagon (OK, that works for me), the California Trail used a ox yoke (I guess that works), and the Mormon Trail used a bison skull (really?).

Now I get the whole leave-a-message-on-the-skull thing. But is that the best they could come up with to represent the Mormon Trail? Real quick I thought what could work better...

Perhaps an image of Brigham Young, with his hand out saying this is the place. Or even a beehive or a seagull. But these are probably more symbolic of settling Utah than the trip to get there.

A Book of Mormon, Golden Plates. or the Angel Moroni are probably too religious for a government organization. Still they would be more symbolic for why they were going.

A handcart may be too specific. Only a fraction of the pioneers came by handcart. Perhaps an Ensign? It would only be remotely religious, but perhaps as obscure as the note on bison skulls. And a Roadometer is perhaps even more obscure.

So what do you think would be a better symbol of the Mormon Trail?

Pioneer Day Outside the Mormon Curtain

As I write this the Mormon world is preparing the celebrate Pioneer Day. OK, maybe just the Mormons in the west. Here in Tennessee our ward is not even acknowledging the date. No activity. Maybe just some pioneer themed talks in Sunday School (I gave one such talk last year). Elements in our ward have decided to take things into their own hands. The Relief Society is hosting an pioneer themed enrichment meeting... next week. OK, it is close enough, I guess.

When I was a child my father moved us around every couple of years. We spent some of it in Tennessee, but we spent more of it in Massachusetts, Virginia, California, Wisconsin and Connecticut. We always celebrated Pioneer day. In Knoxville, I had a wagon we made a little cover for and the Primary had a parade around the chapel. We dressed up in our best western costumes and played cowboys and, well, pioneers. [I don't recall any Indians.] I don't see that anymore.

Are there other areas outside the inter mountain west where Pioneer Day is largely ignored?

Mormons Love History

Mormons love their history. And they love to share it too. Since I started this blog, I have had several people I know personally hand me something with Mormon history.

Last Sunday, I was given a a photo copy of the last few pages of a book belonging to an older Mormon resident of Tennessee: Myrtle Bigham who passed away in 2000. Hand written on those pages were the names of the missionaries who passed through her doors 1887 to 1907. Since Myrtle was baptised in 1918, the book probably belonged to her grandparents who joined the Church in 1887.

This was not the first thing I was given of historical value, nor do I expect it will be the last. I treasure them not because they are original (it is only a copy) but because it shows that those who give them to me understand me and my love for history. I'm like a kid getting candy for his birthday.