Pillar of Light

by Gerald N. Lund

  Joseph turned now, coughing and holding his chest. Hyrum stood quickly and retrieved a pitcher and a glass from beneath his chair. He poured Joseph some water and handed him the glass. Mary Ann watched in concern as Joseph took three deep swallows, then smiled at his brother and handed the glass back to him. That alone attested to the cost Liberty Jail had wrought upon the Prophet’s strength and health. Joseph rarely had to pause while giving a sermon. She had seen him speak for up to two hours without any signs of tiring.

  Joseph’s face softened. “Thank God we have been delivered. And as for some of our beloved brethren and sisters who have sealed their testimony with their blood, and have died martyrs to the cause of truth—” He stopped and quoted softly from the lines of a hymn. “‘Short though bitter was their pain, Everlasting is their joy.’

  “Let us not sorrow as ‘those without hope.’” Tears had welled up and now began to trickle down his cheeks. This time he made no effort to stop them. All across the congregation men and women were weeping now too. The words he spoke brought the memories back, keenly, poignantly, powerfully. “The time is coming when the hearts of the widows and fatherless shall be comforted, and every tear shall be wiped from their faces. The trials they have had to pass through shall work together for their good. These trials shall prepare them for the society of those who have come up out of great tribulation and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”

  Benjamin suddenly started. He could hear the weeping all around him. His own wife and children had tear-stained cheeks. But in a flash of insight, he understood something. This was not the weeping of the desolate. There was sorrow for the loss, sorrow for the emptiness, but they were equally tears of joy. Joseph was reminding them of their faith—a faith purged in the fire, a faith which, like steel, came only by way of the forge and the hammer and anvil.

  Joseph paused now for a long time, almost a full minute. He seemed not to want the tenderness of the moment to pass too quickly. Weary, he finally went on. “Marvel not, then, that we are persecuted. Remember the words of the Savior: ‘The servant is not above his Lord. If they have persecuted me, they will persecute you also.’ All the afflictions through which the Saints have to pass are fulfillment of the words of the prophets spoken since the world began.” Now his shoulders lifted and his head came up. “My dear brothers and sisters, we have been through much. We have lost much. We have suffered much. But let us never forget that it is the Savior, Jesus Christ, whom we serve. And there is nothing that has come upon us which he himself does not personally know, that he himself has not personally endured. This is why he alone can ask us to forgive our enemies. The Lord does not expect us to completely ignore what happened to us in Missouri. He has commanded us to seek redress from the government. But let not hate fill your hearts for those who have treated us thus. We have been commanded to forgive and leave vengeance in the hands of God. Let us pray for them who despitefully use us, as he said while he was among the children of men. And if we endure our trials well, as he did in every way, he shall lift us up and exalt us on high. And that, my dear friends, is worth the riches of the earth and whatever ridicule the world may heap upon us.”

  And then in one single burst of clarity, Benjamin Steed saw it. He took a deep breath, and felt the fire down deep in his lungs. He was getting better—slowly—but the pain, the shortness of breath, the maddening lack of strength and energy were still part of his legacy from a sixty-mile forced march in a blizzard and nights without heat in the Richmond jail. Now he and his family were here in Quincy, living in a borrowed house paid for by money borrowed from one of his children. In Kirtland, Benjamin Steed had been comfortably wealthy. He lost it all. Turned his back on it and walked away. In Far West, he and Mary Ann started out with virtually nothing, but within a year, through diligence and hard work, they had a farm and a small but comfortable house. They lost it all! But there was no sadness, no regrets. Instead, he found his spirit soaring with the realization of what it all meant. When his life was over he would be called to stand and be judged before the Master. Is this what it took to keep company with the likes of Abraham and Peter and Lehi and John the Beloved? Then so be it! The Saints of ancient times faced no less—ridicule, mockery, oppression, exile. Martyrdom! It was worthy company to seek.

  Without thinking, Benjamin began to nod. It was a terrible cost, but if one could stand before the Master when it was all over, if one could stand tall and erect and without shame and hear those wonderful words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant; you have been faithful in a few things, now I make you ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord”—if one could do that, Joseph was right: the cost was worth it.

  Now Joseph’s face was positively radiant. “The Lord God has seen fit to deliver us and bring us safely out of the hand of the oppressor. We shall make our petitions for redress as commanded, but shall we not then go on with the work we have to do?”

  Young Joshua, so caught up in what Joseph was saying, not remembering that Joseph was not speaking to him personally, responded instantly. “Yes!” he called out. Lydia, Mary Ann, and the rest of the family looked at him in surprise. Emily giggled. Several people around them turned, smiling. The boy’s face flamed instantly red.

  Joseph swung around too, but he was not amused. He was deeply touched. His eyes caught Joshua’s and held them. “That’s right, young Joshua Steed,” he cried proudly. “That is the answer the Lord wants to hear.” He turned back to the congregation, his eyes blazing with determination. Now his voice was like the roar of a lion. “What say ye, my brothers and sisters? You have heard it from the mouth of a child. Is not this what the Lord expects of us?”

  “Yes!” several called out.

  “Then shall we not do it?”

  Benjamin reached across and laid a hand on young Joshua’s shoulder. “Yes!” he cried. “Yes!”

  Now it rolled across the congregation. Heads were up, eyes were on fire with determination, hearts were aflame with faith. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  Chapter Notes

  As is recorded in Joseph’s history, on 24 April, two days following his return to Quincy, he “met the Church in council” (HC 3:335), but it was not until the first week of May that a formal conference was held. The minutes indicate that land purchases recently made to the north were sanctioned by the conference and that the next conference was to be held in Commerce in October. As for Joseph’s speech on the first day of the conference, the minutes record only this: “A hymn was then sung, when President Smith made a few observations on the state of his peculiar feelings, after having been separated from the brethren so long, etc.” (See HC 3:345.) However, under date of 22 April, the day of his return from imprisonment, the Prophet’s history contains his thoughts about what had happened in Missouri, and in the novel many of those thoughts are presented as part of his conference address. Thus, while the author has taken some liberties to create the introductory and concluding portions of Joseph’s speech to the Saints, the great majority of the speech as given here is based on Joseph’s words as recorded in the 22 April journal entry. (See HC 3:327–32.)

  An interesting postscript to the Missouri persecutions is a 1976 executive order issued by Christopher Bond, then governor of the state of Missouri. The statement officially rescinds the extermination order issued by Governor Lilburn W. Boggs 138 years earlier. The 1976 order reads:

  “WHEREAS, on October 27, 1838, the Governor of the State of Missouri, Lilburn W. Boggs, signed an order calling for the extermination or expulsion of Mormons from the State of Missouri; and

  “WHEREAS, Governor Boggs’ order clearly contravened the rights to life, liberty, property and religious freedom as guaranteed by the Constitution of the United States, as well as the Constitution of the State of Missouri; and

  “WHEREAS, in this bicentennial year as we reflect on our nation’s heritage, the exercise of religious freedom is without question one of the basic tenets of our free democratic
republic;

  “Now, THEREFORE, I, CHRISTOPHER S. BOND, Governor of the State of Missouri, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the State of Missouri, do hereby order as follows:

  “Expressing on behalf of all Missourians our deep regret for the injustice and undue suffering which was caused by the 1838 order, I hereby rescind Executive Order Number 44 dated October 27, 1838, issued by Governor W. Boggs.

  “In witness I have hereunto set my hand and caused to be affixed the great seal of the State of Missouri, in the city of Jefferson, on this 25 day of June, 1976. (Signed) Christopher S. Bond, Governor.” (Quoted in Richard Neitzel Holzapfel and T. Jeffery Cottle, Old Mormon Kirtland and Missouri: Historic Photographs and Guide [Santa Ana, Calif.: Fieldbrook Productions, 1991], p. 285.)

  Chapter Seven

  Joshua Steed slowed his step as he approached the hardware store. He leaned heavily on his cane, limping with exaggerated care. His leg—paralyzed when the bullet entered his back and passed through his body—was definitely improving. He had started with nothing, no feeling, no ability to make it respond, total dependence on a crutch. Then gradually it began to improve. Now around the house sometimes he even set his cane aside and still managed.

  But he didn’t want the man behind him to know that. Stopping completely, Joshua turned his head, as though his attention was caught by the tools in the window. He stepped over to examine them more closely, but in actuality, only did that so he could see down the boardwalk behind him in the reflection of the store’s glass front.

  He stiffened a little. The man was still there, coming very slowly now, obviously surprised by Joshua’s sudden change of pace. Swearing softly under his breath, Joshua turned and moved away in long, awkward strides. He had first spotted the man as he came out of his office at the textile warehouse. The man had been some distance away and Joshua couldn’t get a good look at him, but he fell in behind Joshua, moving more quickly when Joshua sped up, slowing when he lagged a little. If Joshua turned away, he would spin around, hiding his face. Joshua didn’t like it in the least.

  He walked steadily but not hurriedly up the street, then turned a corner into a narrow alley. The moment he was out of sight, he broke into a hobbling run. The alley went through, then opened onto the next street, but about halfway down there was a small open area behind one of the buildings. He ducked into that and flattened himself against the wall.

  There was a startled cry as the man turned the corner and saw that Joshua was gone, and Joshua heard him break into a jogging run. As the figure flashed by him, Joshua launched himself, dropping the cane to free his hands. He hit him hard, driving him to the ground. In an instant, he had a hammerlock on the man and pressed his face into the dirt.

  “Who are you!” Joshua hissed into his ear. “Why are you following me?”

  To Joshua’s amazement, the man began to laugh. He turned his head as far as possible and looked up at Joshua.

  Joshua rolled off him and came up to his knees, stunned. “Nathan?”

  Nathan sat up, brushing the dirt off his face. He grinned. “I expected you to be glad to see me, but I must say, this is really more than was necessary.”

  Nathan was shaking his head by the time Caroline finished talking. “I’m very sorry,” he said. “I was sure that you would have at least heard from Will by now.”

  She looked away, fighting to keep her composure. “The only thing I can figure is that he thinks I’m going to be angry with him for stealing that money and running off. But if we only knew where he was . . .” She looked away, biting her lip. “He still thinks Joshua is dead.”

  Joshua, sitting next to his wife on the sofa, took her hand. “Caroline, he’ll come to his senses. We’ve just got to give it some time.”

  “He’s not dead,” she said fiercely, looking at Nathan. “I know that he’s not dead.”

  Nathan nodded soberly. The thought had crossed his mind and it must have shown on his face. “Maybe he did write and it’s just gotten lost. You know how mail service can be.”

  She nodded wearily. “I know. I’ve tried to think of every possible reason.”

  Savannah was sitting on Nathan’s lap. Now she had had enough of this adult conversation. She reached up and tugged on her uncle’s jacket. “Where’s Gampa?”

  Nathan laughed, looking down into those large, deep blue eyes which were now very grave. “Grandpa is in a place called Illinois, Savannah.”

  “Where’s Gamma?”

  “Grandma is there too. They miss you.”

  “Wanna see Gampa.”

  Hugging her to him, Nathan looked at Joshua. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  “Me too,” Caroline said. She was not smiling as she looked at Joshua.

  “Me too,” Olivia blurted. “Can we go see them, Papa? Can we? Please?”

  “Whoa!” Joshua cried, holding up his hands. “Uncle Nathan just got here. Let’s get him settled in his room first, and get him fed. He looks pretty hungry to me.”

  “What are you thinking?” Joshua finally asked. “When you talk about a family enterprise, what have you got in mind?”

  Nathan leaned back in his chair, lifting one knee and holding it with his hands. “A store.”

  “A store?”

  “Like a dry goods store?” Caroline asked, also clearly surprised. Dinner was over now. Savannah was in bed, and they were talking in the parlor. Olivia sat quietly, knowing that if she wanted to be part of this, she had better act like an adult and not interrupt.

  “Yes,” Nathan answered. “Only a dry goods store with a full line of products. Cookery, fabrics, spices, tools, sewing things for women, maybe even hats and a basic line of ready-made clothing for men and women. Dresses, shawls, boots, pants, jackets.”

  Joshua’s one eyebrow had risen slightly, so Nathan hurried on. “You’ve got to remember that there are almost twelve thousand Latter-day Saints in Illinois right now, and more coming. They need a lot of goods.”

  “Doesn’t Quincy have stores?” Joshua asked.

  “We’re not staying in Quincy. We’ve got to have a place of our own.”

  Joshua started a retort, then closed his mouth again, remembering his amazement the first time he went to Far West. What had been open prairie just months before was a full city humming with activity. Telling the Mormons that such things were impossible was a little fruitless. “A store,” he said instead. “It is an interesting idea.”

  “A store is just the beginning,” Nathan said eagerly. “That will be good for Lydia and me.” He looked at Caroline. “You know that Lydia’s parents had a store in Palmyra. She grew up with it.”

  “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “She was good at it, too,” Joshua supplied.

  “We plan to have Mama and Papa help,” Nathan said. “Pa can’t farm anymore. It would kill him.”

  “So he’s not getting any better?” Joshua asked with concern.

  Nathan frowned. “Oh, yes, he’s improving still, but . . .” He shook his head, rushing on now as the ideas came tumbling out. “Anyway, there’s the others to consider. Matthew and Brigham Young are talking about getting a cabinet shop going again. We could sell through the store the furniture and other products they make. Take special orders. Jessica will probably want to go back to teaching school again. I’ve been thinking that once we find a place, we are all going to have to have houses. Maybe we could add an extra room to hers that she could use for a school.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Caroline said. “Lydia told me she is a wonderful teacher.”

  “Yes. And that’s the point,” Nathan went on eagerly. “We go with our strengths. Each person doing what they do best. Derek wants to farm. He loves that. Maybe we could decide what crop is best, then market that too.”

  “You really have been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Joshua said with a laugh, but also with admiration.

  Nathan leaned forward. “Yes, I have. For many nights now. It makes g
ood sense economically, but it brings the family together too. That’s what I like best about the idea.”

  “That’s what I like best about the idea too,” Caroline said softly, looking directly at Joshua.

  The room went quiet. Joshua was frowning deeply. Then he laughed, brushing it aside. “You know there’s thinking, and then there’s dreaming. Wild dreaming.”

  Caroline was not about to be put off. “Is it dreaming to want to be close to your family, Joshua? And . . .” Now her voice became filled with concern. “And it would also be out of the state of Missouri.”

  He threw up his hands. “Let’s not start on that again, Caroline. We’re fine here. No one from Jackson County is going to learn that I’m still alive. And if they do, who cares anymore?”

  “Right,” she shot right back at him. “That’s why you attacked a complete stranger when he tried to follow you home.”

  “Now, it wasn’t like that, and you know it,” Joshua said testily.

  Nathan grunted. “It wasn’t? That’s exactly how I recall it.”

  Joshua swung on his brother. “Well, what were you doing sneaking around following me anyway? Why didn’t you just come right up and say hello?”

  “I was going to your office when I saw you come out. Then I thought it might be fun to follow you home and surprise you and Caroline at the same time.”

  Caroline bored in now, with a quiet anger of her own. “Joshua, you’ve always been honest. That’s one of the things I love about you. So you look me in the eye and you tell me you have not been worried about us being here in St. Louis. You tell me that the reason you now call your business Samuelson and Associates rather than Samuelson and Steed has nothing to do with your concerns about being found.”

  “It’s not that. I just . . .” But she had him, and he knew it.

  Her eyes were suddenly shining. “You thought Nathan was someone from Jackson County, didn’t you?”