“Why do you say that? He’s a member of the Church.”
Abby shot her a scornful look. “And you think that makes everyone perfect? You know as well as I do that there are Mormons who are members in name only.”
“And you think David’s like that?” Molly said hotly.
“I . . . no, I’m not sure I’d credit him with that much of a commitment.”
“Well, you’re wrong, Abby. He goes to church with us every time he’s in town.”
Suddenly Abby knew this was futile. Molly was so high in the clouds that she couldn’t even guess where solid earth was. “I’m just saying that you need to see if there are differences,” Abby concluded.
“Fine, I’ll do that.”
Abby sighed and stood up. “You asked, and I told you. Now it’s up to you.”
“What would I ever do without my big sister to keep me out of danger?”
Abby bit back a sarcastic retort. She started back toward the bed, then whirled around again. “If you didn’t really want to know, why didn’t you say so, and save us both the time?”
“That’s it. I’m done.” Molly shot to her feet. “You just can’t let me be happy, can you? Thank you very much for your wise and sage advice, Abigail McKenna. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
She went out the door, slamming it behind her, leaving Abby to stare morosely at the wall. Then a slow smile softened the corners of Abby’s mouth, and she whispered, “I wonder how long it will take you to remember that you are sleeping in this room with me.”
Chapter 27
Thursday, January 2, 1879
David arrived at the Cedar City Social Hall a little after seven that evening, fully expecting that this would be another packed meeting. But he was wrong. There were a few horses tied up at the hitching posts, and a couple of carriages, but that was all. As he stood on the sidewalk waiting for the McKennas, a few older men and others who looked like their sons walked past him, nodding and smiling.
At the door, President Henry Lunt, president of the Parowan Stake, and C. J. Arthur, bishop of the Cedar City Ward, greeted the incoming brethren with warm handshakes and hearty words of welcome. David had hung back, not wanting to run that gauntlet without Patrick and Carl.
He had not deliberately avoided Molly and the rest of the family since they had returned home Monday night, but he had kept himself busy, still trying to decide when the best time would be to talk to Patrick.
Yesterday, Abby had come into the livery stable while he was settling Tillie, and she had completely caught him by surprise by her brief comments. She had thanked him, and when he asked her for what, she said, “For going slow with Molly. It’s totally contrary to Molly’s impetuous nature and it’s driving her crazy, but it’s the wise thing to do.” When he just nodded, a tiny smile played around her mouth. “To be honest, I expected less of you. Thank you for surprising me once again.” He took that as an encouraging sign.
Someone called his name, and he saw Patrick and Carl Bradford coming from the direction of the hotel and post office. He waved and moved forward to greet them. “Hello.”
They shook hands, then went inside, pausing to shake hands with President Lunt and Bishop Arthur. Patrick introduced David to President Lunt, stating only that he was one of Patrick’s employees and that Patrick wanted him to know what was happening with the calls. The president shook his hand firmly and welcomed him there.
Inside, as they waited for others to come, David looked around. There were still a lot of men that he didn’t recognize, probably because this meeting included some from outlying settlements, but he did see several he knew. One of those was a few rows ahead of them, an older, bearded man sitting between two younger men. It was the Danish gentleman with the twisted feet that Molly had pointed out to him up in Parowan. David remembered that his son had been one of those called. He nudged Patrick and pointed. “Brother Nielson, right?”
“That’s right. Bishop Jens Nielson. That’s his son, Hans Joseph—everyone calls him Joe—sitting on his left. He’s nineteen and single. I’ll bet his call gave the Nielsons pause.”
“Why’s that?” David wondered.
“The Nielsons lost their only child—a little boy about Billy Joe’s age—on the handcart trek, the same night when Jens’s feet were so badly frozen. They also lost a young girl they were bringing to America for another family. Joe was their first child born after that. So, in a way, he’s their firstborn. He and his father are very close.”
David was studying the two of them. They looked much alike—tall with broad shoulders, broad faced and square jawed, though Joe was clean shaven.
Patrick went on. “The man on Brother Nielson’s right is Kumen Jones, a son-in-law.”
“Oh, yeah,” David said, recognizing him too. “The one who married the Nielsons’ daughter.”
“Right.”
“I don’t remember Brother Nielson being called, right?” David said. “Probably a good thing, him being older and with his handicap and all.”
“Yes,” Patrick answered. “But Joe and Kumen are both good men. Kumen is one of the best men with a team of horses I know of. He’ll be invaluable on the trek.” He looked around. “Actually, there are several who were in the Willie or Martin handcart companies. Those two men down front, the white-haired man just to the left of the pulpit and his son. That’s Francis Webster and Francis Jr. Young Francis was also called to go with us. They’re from England too. Came across in fifty-six in the Martin company. Francis Sr. endured terrible suffering as well. And there’s George Rowley. He came with the Willie Company. He was fourteen at the time.”
David found himself smiling. This was one of the things he loved about a small town. Everybody knew everybody, and everybody knew everybody else’s business. “And now they’re being asked to leave again,” David murmured. “Seems like if they survived that experience, they’d be left alone now.”
Both Patrick and Carl gave him a strange look, and David realized that he was letting his thoughts run out of his mouth without any censorship. But the look passed as Patrick saw someone else. He pointed to a short, burly man with a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, just coming into the hall with some other men. “That’s Ben Perkins and his brother, Hyrum. They’re coal miners too, from Wales. Like you, he started in the mines at age six, carrying water for the miners. We’ll have to get you two together sometime, let you compare notes.”1
After a prayer, Bishop Arthur, who was conducting the meeting, stood. “Brethren, I should like to briefly state our purpose here this evening, then turn some time to President Lunt for any remarks he may have. After that, we shall invite responses from those present.”
He let his eyes sweep across the assembled group. “The primary object in calling this meeting is to ascertain if those whose names were read and sustained in conference last Sunday are willing to go, and if their parents . . .” He stopped. “You may have noticed that many of the names read out on Sunday are of young men who are not yet married. The reason for that should be obvious to all. But we are anxious to ascertain if the parents of these young men are willing to have their sons go and to assist them in doing so.
“We also wish you to understand clearly that there is no compulsion in this matter. Whether you choose to answer the call issued is a matter of personal agency, as only you can decide what is best for you and your family.”
David glanced at Patrick to see how he reacted to that comment. Would it change his mind? But his face was expressionless, and he was actually nodding as Bishop Arthur spoke.
“However, for those who choose to go forward, may we ask that you do so with cheerful hearts and a glad countenance.” He waited while a few heads bobbed in agreement. No one spoke, so he went on. “Also, I remind you that Elder Snow invited others who were not called to volunteer themselves if they have a mind to.”
David felt a nudge and turned to see Patrick smiling at him. “Why don’t you do that?” he whispered. “If you voluntee
red, I wouldn’t have to pay you.”
“Pay me?” David whispered back. Was he joking? Then he understood. David would stay on as a mail rider after the family left. If he went with them, his salary would end.
“And you, Carl,” Patrick added. “There you go. You don’t have to wait for a call.”
Carl seemed pleased, and nodded his assent. No surprise there. If Abby was going, Carl would be interested in going too.
Now the bishop thumped the pulpit for emphasis. “Brethren, we know that this call brings with it much upheaval to your lives. We know that it affects far more than just you who are here tonight. Your wives and children will become as much a part of this as you will. I hope you will sit down with them and discuss the reasons behind this call, as Elder Snow so carefully explained them to us. Help them to understand that this decision was not made lightly or without consideration for your feelings and the feelings of your family. I commend you for your faith. I commend you for your willingness to brave the unknown so that others throughout the territory may have peace and may live in safety and security.”2
He drew in a deep breath as he once again let his eyes go from face to face. “We shall now hear from President Lunt.” He stepped back. “President.”
“Thank you, Bishop Arthur. And thank you, brethren, for making time to be with us tonight. I say amen to what your good bishop has said, and I too look forward to hearing your expressions concerning these calls. I strongly advise you to put your full trust in God, and all will go well with you.”
David’s head lifted slowly. Thank you, President, but if it’s all the same to you, I would suggest putting your trust in wise planning, careful preparation, the best teams and wagons.
“Let me add two or three things of a more practical nature. First, we know that at this point the exact location of your settlement has not been determined. We know you are anxious to know that, but it will have to wait for now. I shall say more of that in a moment.
“Second, we know that many are asking how soon you will be expected to depart. That is easier to answer, though not completely settled. Elder Snow told us as a presidency that he hoped the expedition could be ready to leave by around the first part of April.”
A low murmur broke out. Obviously most had not heard that.
“So we have that as a target,” he continued. “But, as you know, there are no roads into the area. There are no other settlements there, only isolated homesteads and Indian villages. We cannot simply strike out into the wilderness blindly with two or three hundred people, including women and children. So what we have under consideration right now is a proposal to send out an exploratory party in advance of the main company.”
Again he had to stop and let the reaction run its course. “We not only need to know where we are going, but which route is the best to get us there. The exploring party will seek out a southern route so that we cannot be locked in by the snow over the high mountain passes. How long will this exploration take? We cannot say for sure. But for those who will stay behind, I think we can say with some confidence that it is not likely that we will have word back from the exploring party in much less than six months. So those of us going with the main company will have until late summer or possibly even early fall to get ready.”
David wanted to stand up and whoop. Six months. That gave him and Molly plenty of time to work things out. He looked at Patrick, who also looked greatly relieved. That would allow time for him to dispose of his businesses.
President Lunt acknowledged the reaction with a smile. “Now, to my third point. As Bishop Arthur has already noted, many of you here tonight, and those being called from other areas, are young single brethren. We strongly recommend that, as part of your preparation, you find a young woman to court, and that you do so with some dispatch so that you can marry before we leave.”
This brought much laughter and backslapping, to the embarrassment of the young men.
“We assume that the young men will not find this assignment too burdensome,” President Lunt added with a droll smile.
As the congregation roared at that, David kept his eyes forward. He didn’t dare look at Patrick. What was going through his head right now? There sat Carl, already semi-courting Abby. And here he was, clearly interested in Patrick’s other daughter. Theoretically, at least, it was possible that Patrick might end up with both of his daughters going as married women. He shook his head. That was a little much to digest right now.
He looked up, realizing the president was through and had turned the time back to the bishop.
“All right, brethren. We don’t wish to prolong the meeting, but we would now invite you—including you fathers—to express your feelings.” He immediately returned and sat down again. For a long moment, there was not a sound, then an older man got to his feet slowly.
“That’s Jim Nealson,” Patrick whispered.
“Thank you, Bishop. Thank you, President, for your stirring words. I would like to say that I hereby signify my willingness to do all in my power to assist my son so that he can go and fulfill this mission.” He sat down again as others around him smiled their approval.
“Francis Webster,” Patrick whispered as the white-haired man Patrick had earlier pointed out to him stood. He laid a hand on the shoulder of the young man sitting beside him. The younger Webster was looking up at his father, and David could see the strong resemblance between them.
“President Lunt. Bishop Arthur. I hereby pledge to do all in my power to assist my son, Francis Jr., to fulfill his duty.” And he sat down again.
Next came George Urie. He was brief, blunt, and quite different from the others. David found it quite refreshing. “President Lunt,” he began, “I am sorry, but I am not prepared at this time to say whether I will be going or not. However, I do promise that it shall have my most careful consideration.” And he sat down.
One after another they rose and gave brief expression to their feelings. One said that he felt like he could live about anywhere anyone else did, so he thought he’d be on hand when it was time to go. One of the Welshmen stood and, in halting English, said he would be ready to go and hoped all could go together.
Then a man stood who was close to thirty, maybe a little older. He didn’t have anyone with him. Patrick’s soft commentary continued. “James Davis. Owns a prosperous store here in town. Married. Four children. Wife expecting another.”
David jerked around. He’s taking a pregnant wife?
“Due in July or August, I believe,” Patrick said. “Here’s another one of those soft, pampered businessmen who shouldn’t be going, right?” he whispered.
“Those are your words, not mine,” David countered. Then he turned to watch the man.
Davis didn’t look at those in the congregation, only at his two leaders. “I just wanted to say this. The other night I was warned in a dream that I would be required to go and live in the Arizona country.”
David instantly noted his British accent—southern England, he guessed. Maybe around London. He sounded quite a bit like David’s mother when he spoke.
Brother Davis started to sit down, then changed his mind and straightened again. “As many of you know, my wife is with child, expecting sometime in July. Sister Davis has also been in poor health for some time.” He stopped, Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought to control his feelings. “So when we heard my name read out on Sunday, we were much surprised.” He shook his head. “Much surprised. We feel bad about having to leave our store and our home, and considerable other property we own. We expect we shall sell it at a loss. We are particularly worried about my wife’s health, but as we talked about it, we decided that we had been called by servants of the Lord, and so we determined we would try to magnify our call.”
David was shaking his head in disbelief. Dreams? A pregnant and sick wife. What was going on here? Seeing that Patrick was watching him, David kept his face impassive.
James Davis stood there for several long seconds, trying to gain his compo
sure. Then his chin came up and he held his head high. “So I say to you, I shall do all in my power to be ready with my family when the company prepares to depart.”3
And what about your wife? Does she know you’re down here tonight committing her to go with four children and another on the way? David wanted to stand up and shout that at him. But of course, he didn’t. He just sat there fuming.
It was no surprise to David at all when Patrick stood next. Every eye turned to him, and David could see the respect they had for him. He glanced quickly down at Carl, then looked at David, his eyes holding him for a moment longer before he turned back to the two leaders. “When my wife and I were baptized into this Church, we made a covenant with the Lord that we would take His name upon us so that we could be called His people. We made a covenant that we would bear one another’s burdens, that we would mourn with those who mourn, and stand as witnesses of God in all things, at all times, and in all places.” There was a quick smile. “And I assume that includes San Juan country. So, with the full blessing of my wife, and with the full agreement of my children, I pledge to you this day that the McKennas have every intention of living first by covenant and then, and only then, by comfort and convenience.”
Notes
^1. All of the people mentioned here are either listed in the minutes or were likely there because we know that they, or a family member, were among those called. The personal information about individuals shared here is accurate (see Jenson, LDS Biographical Encyclopedia, 3:441; Miller, Hole, 186; Carpenter, Jens Nielson, 35, 38; Jessie M. Sherwood, Life Sketch of Mary Jane Wilson [daughter of Benjamin Perkins], 2, 5).
^2. The first of Bishop Arthur’s remarks reflect the summary made by the clerk who kept the minutes of the meeting. The second part of his address was summarized by the clerk in this brief sentence: “The Bp. gave timely and fatherly instructions” (Cedar Ward minutes, 332).
^3. The expressions of actual individuals given here come from the minutes of the Cedar City Ward or Miller’s summary of that meeting (see Miller, Hole, 12–13). As it turned out, James Davis and his family did not end up going on the main Hole-in-the-Rock expedition. They joined the exploring party, which left Cedar City on April 13, then stayed on the San Juan River to await the arrival of the main company. More will be said of them in future chapters.
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