MARGARET ELLEN BLACK ROWLEY
This is Margaret's Story
Written/Compiled by Sammy Hawkins in 1956

The first Margaret Ellen Black remembers was living in a place called Hard Scrabble, close by Kanab. She remembers this because in the winter there was no water and the families depended solely upon the snow for water. Snow was gathered and melted in kettles and pans. A barrel stood in the kitchen and kettles and pans were on the stove continuously melting snow which was then stored into the barrel to be used on washday.
Margaret Ellen was born on the 10th day of January 1869 in Beaver, Utah. The family soon moved to Washington close by st. George. Margaret was a cross baby and her mother Amy Jane Washburn Black sat in front of the fireplace and fed this squally, wriggly, little mite soot tea because that was good for babies with colic. (This soot tea was made from the soot in the back of the fireplace and mixed with water and a little sweetening.)
Of course, her family later came to the conclusion that the reason she was cross was not because she had colic but because she had too much ambition to want to be still. Besides, her brother Billy said, she was a bossy little thing even when she was brand new into this world.
Margaret's father was a polygamist. He had five wives and this, to little Margaret, was the nicest thing about her childhood. She had five homes she could run to for a piece of bread or to get comfort when she had a skinned knee.
In her own words Margaret says of them,
Aunt Margaret was Father's first wife, and I don't believe a person could be better. She mothered all of us, even to washing our hands and faces and giving us something to eat when we children were playing around her place. I never heard her scold or complain. She used to say to me, 'Maggie, if you don't keep your bonnet on I'll have to nail it in place.' I loved her as did everyone else in the family especially Mother. (Amy Jane).
Mother (Amy Jane Washburn Black) was the next wife. She was not as patient as Aunt Margaret, but the children in Father's family all thought Mother was all right. She was not well. She suffered a stroke when she was in her early thirties. She had had five children. She had four more after that. She was able to do very light housework but couldn't depend on her left side to function properly. She was a very refined, dainty woman. She often said that polygamy did not try her, but poverty did.
Aunt Mariah was the next wife. She scolded more, but didn't scare us out any. We went to the bread can when we wanted to, just the same as we did in our own homes. She did a lot of sewing for us all. She was Miller's mother, and Miller and I were always together. She was one of the best hearted women that ever lived. If anyone needed help, she was the first one there.
Aunt Louisa was the next. She was Mother's (Amy Jane) half sister. We were a little afraid of her. She had quite a temper. When Aunt Louisa would get mad, us kids Myrtle, Eva, Miller, Hattie, Orson and I made tracks, but after we got away from her, we'd about kill ourselves laughing. She'd say such funny things. We never did get mad at her. We couldn't. She'd say such funny things like, If I ever catch you kids, I'll box your neck and ears.' Of course, she never caught us, we saw to that. She was a very ambitious woman.
Then Father married a widow with four children. She used to wash for Mother. I remember standing by her tub and playing in her hot, soapy water. We loved Aunt Mirinda. She was nice to us all, and we learned to love her children.

William Morley Black's first wife, Aunt Margaret was from a wealthy home and had brought with her, across the plains, a chest full of lovely linens and beautiful dresses. Her brother was a silversmith, and many of the gifts he had given her were in that chest. Often in the evening, Maggie and her half brother Miller were allowed to look through that chest. There was a pair of earrings that were particularly beautiful. They were black onyx with a silver heart on top and a tiny gold heart on top of that. These earrings later were given to Maggie, and she kept them until she was 60 years old, at which time she gave them to Martha Allen who is a granddaughter of Margaret Banks Black.
Maggie's father was a miller. Always, of course, the mill was in a canyon where water could be used for power. Aunt Margaret lived close to the mill, and the other wives lived in town. Maggie and Miller stayed up to the mill a lot of the time with Aunt Margaret, and it was there in the evenings that they were allowed to very carefully lift things out of the chest and look at them. Maggie used to wonder why Aunt Margaret didn't wear the lovely dresses that were in that chest. It was later that she knew: Aunt Margaret would not wear anything better than Amy Jane could wear!

Maggie remembers the time in Kanab when the mill broke down. They were awfully poor. John and Billy used to set snares to catch birds. The boys would clean them, and Maggie's mother cooked them. There was no flour, but they had wheat which they ground in a coffee mill. This happened in the winter, and Father Black took the team and wagon and went to Salt Lake City to get the part that was needed to repair the mill. It was shut down two or three months.
There was just six weeks difference in Maggie's and Miller's ages, she being the oldest, and they were always together. Maggie was tiny, as a child, and a tomboy. Miller thought she was a pretty good pal. Miller was born in Washington, Utah.
The only recollection Maggie has of Washington is that a girl stole a pretty glass marble from her. Her father had brought home, from Salt Lake City, a beautiful glass marble for each of his young children. They were very rare in those days. Maggie's was a clear marble with a pretty colored center. All the children treasured their marbles.
She remembers how one day Billy, George, Henry, and some of the other boys in the family went swimming in the mill race in their birthday suits. They thought no one would be coming that way, and they were diving off the side of the banks when a good sister (from town) happened by. The boys jumped into the mill race laughing their heads off. It was not funny to this lady. She thought they were laughing at her. She went down the road spluttering, I'll tell your father on ye! Laughin' at a body goin' down the street peaceably, start naked! Sixty years later, Eva, Billy and Margaret sill laughed at this incident until they cried.
Father Black was a good miller, and he became part owner of a nice, new mill built in Kanab. Maggie lived in Kanab until she was about six years old. It was hot in Kanab. Water had to be carried from the ditch tow blocks away. The children were sent to carry water from the ditch. Little Maggie carried hers in a little tin bucket. The sand was so hot on their bare feet that the children would run a little way, and then stop and throw their bonnets or hats down and stand on them. On the way back, they would spill a little water and stand in it. Maggie never got back with much water.
There was an old lady who lived near them who lived near them who was a Southerner. She smoked a pipe. The kids just loved her for she was very good to them. One time Charlie, Maggie's brother five years older than she had ringworm. None of the known remedies helped, so Amy Jane took him to this old lady, who got some oil from the stem of her pipe, and rubbed it on the ringworm. Charlie nearly died from that nicotine poison, but it cured the ringworm.
Maggie remembers Kanab because it was there she started to school. Her teacher told her if she didn't learn her ABC's so she could say them right off, she would put her in the cellar with the mice and rates. This terrified her.
As I (Sammy) wrote this down, I did a little remembering too. Mother is not afraid of them now. There was a time our family had a reunion in 1949. We went up into Joe's Valley to Lila and Warren's cabin. Mother said, upon arrival, Me and the babies will all sleep here in the cabin in this bed. The rest of you can sleep where you please. We didn't argue for we knew Mother could sleep well when surrounded by the babies of the family, even when there were five of them. We went in to help her get the bed made, and when we unrolled the mattress, there was a mouse's nest with tiny mice in it. Of course, the mama mouse had scurried away before we could catch her, but we disposed of her family. We knew by doing that the mama mouse would be returning later for her babies, later that night. Mother said, Yes, she'll be back, but she won't bother me. She was a cute little brown thing. The mouse came back that night, but Mother was so crowded in with the five little ones, that she couldn't do anything more than just kick her away when she walked over her feet.
Orderville became Maggie's next home. Father Black joined the United Order. He had cattle and his interest in the mill, and so he was the second largest shareholder in Orderville. He didn't join the Order until after it had been established for a time, so that by the time they moved there, the buildings were all up. They were in a circle. In the center of the circle stood the dining room and kitchen where everyone who could, took their meals.
Brother Clairage was the chief cook, the young men took turns helping. He baked the bread and cooked the vegetables. The kids of Orderville loved this man. Maggie says, He was a good, kind man. Us kids were always stickin' around under foot, but Brother Clairage was good to us, always.
One of the women took charge of the dining room. She had the young women to help her. They took turns helping. They all liked this task. It was not work to them, but fun. Each person in the United Order had his own, definite work to do. Brother Fackrell made all the soap for the community. He made his own lye, too. Some looked after the cattle, others looked after the sheep. Each task that makes for this business of living was taken care of by someone who was appointed to do just that.
Maggie says of this episode in her life.
Everyone was taught to work. When I was a tiny little bit of a thing, I picked wool and got it ready for the carding machine. This was then spun into yarn. I sat inside the loom and handed the warp, one thread at a time, to go into the hames and reed. It took most of the day to get the warp ready for weaving. I soon learned to spin, and when I was still just a child, I spun and wove my grandmother and myself a dress. My mother made both dresses, sewing by hand. There were sewing machines, but they were very scarce and not many people could afford them.
Maggie enjoyed this work and naturally took to it. She could spin much faster than the other children her age. She could spin the fine yarn that took skill, and she did a woman's work while yet a child.
The children all loved Orderville. Any time Maggie and her brothers and sisters got together when they were older, they talked over the pleasant experiences they had while in Orderville.
It was not so pleasant and happy for Maggie's mother, who could not enjoy food cooked en mass. She was allowed to have her meals at her home. She had a quart tin cup with a pretty handle on it. This she made her tea in. She was English, and this was a habit she never broke. When not in use, this cup was hung high on the wall to keep Maggie from getting it. She loved to smell it, and water tasted much better out of that cup than the others.
The bugle played an important part in the lives of the Orderville people. It was blown by Brother Robinson. It called the people to meals three times a day and family prayer in the evening. The kids all knew just how long the prayers would be by the person who was chosen. When the children were going to prayers they would say, I hope Borther Stallworthy doesn't pray tonight. If he did, the children didn't try to kneel down, they sat down and made themselves comfortable for they knew it would be lengthy.
The meals were never served to families as a unit. The children and the grown ups were served separately, children first. The dining room was a great, long one with three long tables. Sister Harmon was the matron over the children, and as each child finished the meal, he was not allowed to leave the table until he had said, Please, Auntie Harmon, I'm through. Then, and only then, could he be excused.
After the wheat was harvested, the children were allowed to glean what they could, and this wheat they could keep for themselves to spend. Of course, the children were anxious to glean all they could for they could spend it at a little store near Father Black's mill, about four miles from town. One time Maggie and her little brother Orson had gleaned what seemed to them such a large amount. They talked and talked about what they were going to buy. Orson didn't say what he wanted, for sure, but Maggie had her heart set on a pretty blue ribbon. The two of them then got a ride to the store, but Maggie was too bashful to go in. She made the mistake of staying outside while Orson went in to do the bargaining. When he returned after a time, he had spent all of their wheat for some caps to pop between rocks. Maggie was sick with disappointment, but not too sick to give Orson a tongue lasing. Orson said, Oh, quit your bawling. You can help pop some of the caps.
Baptisms were conducted only in the summer because the font was the local creek. Maggie was a tiny, timid little tings, and the thought of being baptized frightened her. When the day came, Maggie took her clothes and went down to the creek with the other children. But the more children that were baptized, the more frightened Maggie became. Finally, to her oldest brother Billy's disgust, she refused flatly to have anything at all to do with anyone who looked like they wanted to coax her into it. She took off for home without becoming a member of the Church. When she arrived home, her mother, who had not been to the services because she was much too frail to go anywhere, was told and she said, Oh Maggie, why are you such a coward? Now you will have to go next month.
But the next month Maggie didn't go prepared. She said to her mother, Just let me watch this time,then next time maybe I will. She stood on the side of the creek and looked on with interest and no fear at all. She felt awfully safe. When Brother Robinson looked around and asked, Is there anyone else? Bill, who was 14 years older than Maggie, said, Yes, here is one. And before Maggie knew what was happening, Billy had removed her hat and handed her over to Brother Robinson who baptize her before she could put up much of a fight. She was confirmed there on the bank in her wet Sunday clothes. But she was glad Billy had taken care of her hat with the pretty blue streamers on it.
Maggie grew up in Orderville. She graduated into the grownup division at the meals and could help with the tables. She was no longer tiny, but tall and slender, and many man with only one or two wives had their eyes on her. Maggie, however, had a steady beau who was not married, and there were lots of dances ad stage plays to go to.
Her mother Amy Jane was very tiny. Grandpa had to make her shoes, because her feet were so small. Maggie could easily carry her. But she was a spicy little affair. She would get aggravated and set her toothless jaws together and say, Damn it all, Mag!
Father Black came to the house one day and told Amy Jane that he was going to St. George to the temple and wanted her to go with him. He was also going to bring her father and mother back with him. (Grandma and Grandpa Washburn lived with them quite a lot.) Amy Jane wanted to go but had been there recently with Billy and his wife and two children. She had received her Second Anointing while there. It had been a wonderful trip, but tiring for one so frail, and she felt she could not stand the trip again so soon.
After he left the house, Maggie said, Mother, why can't I go? Her mother said, Well, if your father doesn't care, I don't. When Father Black was asked he said, You can go Maggie, if you can stay away from your mother that long, but you know what a baby you are for her, and you can't come back until the teams come back. The fact that she was only 14 years old was not even discussed. She was plenty old enough for her endowments.
Maggie enjoyed the trip...well, the days, that is. When night would come, she missed her mother so terribly that she was miserable. She would crawl into bed with her father and one of his other wives, Aunt Mariah.
They were there two weeks, and Maggie did a lot of temple work in that length of time. She was glad when the trip ended, and she could get back home with her mother.
The United Order began to break up. People were becoming jealous. The younger married people wanted to strike out for themselves. About a year before the United Order broke up, the big tables and dining room was discontinued, and the families ate in their own homes. Maggie was 15 years old when she and her family left Orderville and moved to Huntington, Utah.
Aunt Margaret had left Orderville several months ahead of the others to go to Salina to visit her daughter. Father Black had to travel through Salina to get to Huntington, and it was planned to pick Aunt Margaret up there. Father Black moved two of his wives out first-- Amy Jane and Mariah and families. They left in two wagons. Father Black drove Amy Jane's wagon. She just had Maggie and Orson. All her other children were married with the exception of Charlie, who went to Arizona with Billy. This wagon was drawn by two span of horses. Aunt Mariah, with her five children, was in the other wagon which was driven by Miller. It was drawn by a yoke of oxen. They had four milk cows along, and a horse that was ridden by Maggie and Orson to keep the cows on the right path. They were two weeks on the road.
While on their way, just this side of Panguitch on the Sevier River, a messenger met them and told them that Aunt Margaret was dead! When the wagons pulled into Salina to Aunt Margaret's daughter's home, Martha Gale came out to meet them, and she said, as she took Amy Jane into her arms, Aunt Jane, Mother left everything she has to you.
Losing Aunt Margaret was a blow to Father Black's whole family, but to Amy Jane, it was especially hard. She and Margaret had been so very close. Margaret shared everything with Amy Jane, and made her invalid existence so much more worth living. They, the first and second wives of William Morley Black were closer than sisters.
The town of Huntington was just getting started when they arrived. There were very few homes. Father Black's family lived in wagon boxes and a shed made of green boughs. By the time winter came, they were snug and warm in a one room log house. Father Black was given the mill in the settlement of Orderville, and he brought enough flour to last his family a year.
Maggie soon got a job washing for Sister Luce, who lived across the creek. Most of the time, she walked to her work, and it was a long way. Then she did the washing for a big family, on the board, then walked home again. Charlie, Maggie's brother, was in Arizona working, and he sent some cloth home for Orson a suit. In return for Maggie's work, Sister Luce made the suit for Orson. One of Father Black's wives became extremely angry over this, for she thought that Father Black had given it to him. It didn't take Maggie long to straighten this out. She was always a spitfire, and she felt the injustice of this so keenly that she wasn't very gentle about it, but she didn't say the bad things that were reported to her father. He must have known she didn't, for although he told Amy Jane about it, he didn't say anything at all to Maggie about it.
They had been in Huntington just two years when Amy Jane had a second stroke. Maggie wasn't even home. She had gone down to help her oldest sister Sarah, who had sick children. One of Sarah's girls had stayed with her grandma. Amy Jane didn't suffer with this stroke as she had with her first one. She awakened cold and tried to cover Persis up, but couldn't for her left side was completely paralyzed. She never regained the use of it. On Sunday when some of the other wives would invite her over for dinner, Maggie and the other young people would make a chair of their hands and carry her that way.
The old Bowery in Huntington played an important part in the lives of all the young people, yes, and old people too. It was the center for all social activity, and of course it played a major part in the love life of the young people. One evening Maggie and her beau (Ulysses Grange) slipped into the Bowery to be alone and hold hands. They just got settled when someone made a light. The flickering flame revealed 10 couples in there! Maggie's brother Charlie was there too.
There was no fruit in Huntington, in those first few years-none at all. How Amy Jane was puzzled one day when she could smell fruit cooking. She called to Maggie, Where on earth is that smell coming from? Maggie didn't answer her, but went in and carried her to the table and put before her a bowl of stewed raisins. Maggie's beau had bought them for her. How starved they were for fruit and how good it tasted!
Father Black was having to keep his whereabouts unknown because of the fear of the U.S. Marshall. He stayed close to Amy Jane, and in the mornings he would build a fire, get her taken care of, and put her into a chair so that Maggie could care for her the rest of the day. Maggie never knew where he slept, until finally she discovered his bed in a tall patch of Lucerne.
Amy Jane lived to see her family raised. They were all married but Maggie and Orson. Orson was away herding sheep. Maggie, one day, put her mother in a chair, made her as comfortable as she possibly could, then she left her, and she had numerous times, to go to do people's washings. This day, she was going to help George Henry's wife. She got back just a little before noon, and when she opened the door and looked in, she screamed. Her mother was still sitting where she had left her, but Maggie knew she had another stroke. When Maggie screamed, tears rolled down Amy Jane's cheeks. She could not talk. Her throat and tongue were paralyzed. She literally starved to death. She lived two weeks. She died August 1886.
Maggie grieved terribly over the loss of her mother. She felt so alone, and many, many times when the nights were unbearable, she would get up and go over to Aunt Mariah's for comfort.

Ash wanted some pictures. The last one is Samuel's writing in 9 mile Canyon with axle grease. He was a hauling goods from Price RR to Vernal area. Childhood home is where Sam and Maggie lived in Huntington. The rest should be self explanatory.

Continuing the Story about Aunt Livy:


The doctor lived 10 miles away but came as soon as he got the call. It took all the doctor's skill, and Maggie's good nursing to pull Aunt Livy through that one. The baby was brought by instruments, and Livy was critically ill for four weeks. During this time Maggie, who was three months pregnant had a showing blood, and she knew she was in for trouble. She told he doctor, and he said, "Maggie, we will lose this woman if we change nurses." So Maggie lost her baby, but she didn't lose an hour's work tending Aunt Livy, who lived to raise her family. She later told how opposed she and the rest of her father's family were to Maggie studying to be a nurse, and then she added, "But how we all have used her!"
Sister Eliza R. Snow and Zina D. H. Young came to Huntington on Church business. Maggie had seen these two sisters when she was in Orderville. (They organized the Primary there.) In the afternoon meeting Sister Young spoke in tongues. What a wonderful manifestation that was! Maggie, since she had been big enough to know anything at all about the Church had a desire to hear someone speak in tongues, and that day, as she and Sam sat in Church, an overwhelming desire filled her soul. She silently prayed for that manifestation. In just a moment Sister Young arose to her feet and without an introduction of any kind began speaking in tongues. She later asked if anyone could interpret what she had said. No one could, so she acted as her own interpretor.
Maggie had another wonderful manifestation – earlier in her life--when she was a little child of seven. Aunt Nancy had a her baby, but the placenta didn't come, and two days later everyone knew she wouldn't live. Amy Jane had been there doing what little she could for her sister-in-law, and when she came home in the afternoon she was crying. Little Maggie wanted to know what was the trouble, and her mother said, "It seems such a shame for Nancy to have to die now." Maggie went into another room by herself, knelt down and prayed. It was a sincere, humble little prayer, and so full of faith. When she arose, she was filled with the knowledge that Aunt Nancy would live! She returned to the kitchen to her mother and said, "Don't cry any more, Mother. Aunt Nancy will get well." Amy Jane said, "Oh, Maggie, you don't understand the trouble. You don't know." Maggie said, "I prayed and the Lord heard me, and Aunt Nancy will get well." She did get well, too. And as nearly as they could tell later, when they checked into it, the placenta had come at the exact time Maggie had received her assurance.
There are other times that stand out in Margaret's memory as having direct answers to her prayers. Once was when Clara was a baby, just seven months old. Maggie, Sam and Miller's wife Julia decided to go to New Mexico to visit Maggie and Miller's father (William Morley Black) and their sister, Eva. Father Black had gone into Mexico to escape the law that was after him for being a polygamist. When it was safe to return to the States, he came back and bought a home in Fruitland, New Mexico. Maggie and Miller had not seen Eva for years, not since she had married in Orderville. She had gone first to Arizona and then to Mexico, then to New Mexico to live. Maggie thinks it was about 25 years since they had seen each other. The trip took three weeks, eight days going, five days there, and eight days back.
Sam took three horses because Miller had a young mare that couldn't stand much hard work, so before going up Clay Hill, just before reaching Moab, Miller traded horses and turned the little mare loose with just a halter and rope which was dragging. They were caught in a bad sand storm. The wind was blowing so hard that it was difficult to see for the red sand that blew into their faces and seemed to even scratch their eyes. Maggie's boy, Orson, who never could stay still for any length of time, ran up to the mare and took hold of the rope. The mare kicked him, striking his head must above his right ear. Blood spurted out of his ear, nose, mouth and even his eyes. There was no oil for anointing, but there certainly was prayer. Maggie held him and comforted him and prayed, prayed, prayed. The men and horses struggled against the wind up that steep hill until the top was finally reached; there they could see Cain Springs and the little ranch house that was located there. They drove to it, and asked for shelter, explaining their plight. The owners said they had no room. Sam said, "We are coming in anyway. You can't deny us shelter. We are desperate." And they moved in, unrolled the bedding in a corner, and Julia, Maggie and the children curled up there. Sam and Miller stayed out with the horses in a clump of willows. The wind was so bad it was nearly impossible to keep hay before the horses, and the men knew that without care, the horses would be unable to make the trip the next day. Maggie bathes Orson's swollen head and listened to his fretful cry and prayed all night long. The prayers were heard and answered, and dawn found Orson sleeping naturally. The wind had quieted, the sun came up and when the travelers made ready to continue on their way, Orson was well and ready to play with the other children.
A few years later, when Lila was small and they were moving out to the farm, Sam told Orson to drive the team up a ways which he did. They heard screams and looked. There lay Lila under the wagon, the wheel on her head. They got the wagon off, and as they picked her up, Andrew Anderson came along to get Sam to go ward teaching with him, and they administered to her. She suffered no ill effects at all.
The faith Maggie had sustained her through all her trials. Many, many times her prayers were not answered as she had wanted them to be, but she could bow to God's will and be comforted. There was the time when Amelia and Fonso had Scarlet Fever. Maggie was in bed with a baby (Orson). The doctor said, "The boy I can save, but the girl will die." How hard it was to let her go. Maggie screamed when she heard the child go into the spasms the doctor had described as being the final stages. (He had been talking to Sam and had not meant for Maggie to hear.)
There were the times when three of her children had died with pneumonia. One was just ten days old, the other six weeks and another two years. There was the time when their two and a half year old Cyril had chased a rooster on his stick horse across the canal and drowned, and the useless, frantic efforts to revive him.
But when Sam was taken from her, it was almost more than she could bear. He had a bad hernia and finally he made arrangements to have it taken care of. The doctors were to operate there at their house on the 3rd of February 1910. The night before the surgery, Maggie dreamed that she saw Sam on the operating table, and that something went wrong. She saw him die. All of the next day she begged him not to have the operation, but the hernia was very painful, and Sam said, "Maggie, that was just a dream. I'll be all right." But he wasn't. He lived just one week. Maggie tried to get a little rest. Sam called her name and she was immediately at his side. He said, "Maggie, I am going to die." Maggie screamed. Brother Woodward said, "Maggie, I don't think he knows what he is saying." But Sam answered, "I do know what I'm saying. I am going to die, but it is all right. The Lord has told me He would take care of you and the children." He died a few minutes later.
Sam's people blamed Maggie for his death. They all said it was because of her study of medicine and hob-knobbing with the doctors that she had talked Sam into surgery.


Dottie's note: This is a copy of the newspaper article about Sam's funeral, not the mention of unthoughtful persons


In February of 1910, the Emery County Progress ran an article that read,
HUNTINGTON
On Saturday last, Mr. S.J. Rowley, who was operated upon for rupture by Drs. Merrill, Ferguson, and Hill, died from the effects of the ailment. Everything was done to relieve his suffering but to no purpose, he passed away at 3:30 oclock p.m. The funeral was held in the meeting house which was beautifully decorated for the occasion.
The program follows:
Song, Nearer My God to Thee, Choir
Invocation, J. W. Nixon
Song, Rest Choir
Experience and kind words W.A. Guymon
Solo, Face to Face Carlos Woodward
Words of comfort and the assurance that no one was to blame, as some unthoughtful persons had said, D.C. Woodward
Quartette, By Siloams Shady Rill A.P. Johnson and Company
A talk by J. F. Wakefield of his long acquaintance and his intimacy during his last hours. The Bishop gave a few closing remarks and all had kind and comforting words for the bereaved. I Need Thee Every Hour was nicely sung by the choir and Elder J. H. Kilpack offered the benediction. Thirty well loaded vehicles followed the remains to the cemetery.

Dottie's Note: When Sammy was born in September, the Emery County Progress newspaper notice read,

On Wednesday last a 12 lb baby girl came to Mrs. Maggie Rowleys with full intention of making its home there, the people welcomed the little stranger and are going to keep it until it gets big. Aunt Maggie is doing fine.

Following her birth, Maggie nearly died of gall stone attack.
The following spring Maggie and the two boys, who were 18 and 14 when their father died, ran the farm. Maggie still remembers how hard it was. The farm was mortgaged and payments had to be met. She remembers harvesting the potatoes. Fonso, the oldest, had gone to Elsinore to work in the sugar factory, and Maggie and Orson were alone to do the harvesting. The plow wouldn't go deep enough, and so Maggie rode the double trees. She was crying as she worked. Sam's brother Walter, who was threshing at a farm near by came over to see how Maggie was getting along. He helped Orson finish.
Maggie later married Frank Sherman who was Miller's brother in law. He was a bachelor and probably the laziest man that ever lived. He has his good points, I guess, but it is hard to think what they are. He was a good nurse when there was sickness, and when he was on a good streak he was so very, very good. But I remember him, and I remember that when he was bad, which was most of the time, he was very, very horrid. Many times when Maggie would call him to come to dinner, he would doge around the house to keep out of her sight, then when the family had started to eat, he would come in surprising under his breath. When food was put on his plate, he would step to the door and throw it out to the dog. He was pouty, ornery, and cantankerous most of the time. Mother thought a lot of him, but he made life miserable for her, and she divorced him. I was scared of him most of the time.
Maggie was a good cook and a good seamstress and an excellent nurse, and she did all three to make a living for her children.
I remember at night I'd snuggle up close to her and put my arm around her and wonder if she would still be there in the morning when I awoke. I'd think, If I hold her tight, she can't get away without me knowing about it. But morning nearly always found her gone.
She always kept her children dressed well. Because of her ability to make old clothes look like new, we always had nice clothes. This was a constant source of talk in the Rowley family. Maggie's sisters in law and father in law were sure Maggie was spending too much money on her children's clothes. Putting it on their backs instead of in their bellies, they said. It was not true. We always had food, too.
Maggie always did her father in law's washing, for by now he was a widower, and it seemed that was the only thing she did that he approved of. Certainly, he spent so much time criticizing her that one night his son Sam appeared to him in a dream and told him that he was pleased with Maggie and the things she was doing to earn a living, and he wanted his father and sisters to stop being critical, and to take that message to the other members of the family. He told Maggie about it, and told his daughters too. This helped a little, but it wasn't until Hannah and Alice were widows themselves that they were really nice to her.
I remember the flu epidemic of 1918. Maggie was one of the few people who did not get it, and she nursed many people during the epidemic. She was set by Dr. Heinzie to Lawrence, a little town a few miles from Huntington to help a family. All of the members of the family were sick. Maggie had told the doctor, Heavens Doctor, I can't go. I don't dare leave my girls. I think two of them are getting sick. (Leona and Lila and I were home.) Dr. Henzie said, You must go. I'll watch your family and take care of them, but I can't leave town, and that whole family will die if they don't have care. So Maggie went to Lawrence and Lila and I stayed home with the flu with Leona to look after us. She would get frightened at night, when we were always worse, but with the daylight, she would find courage, and she put off sending for Mother. The doctor kept his promise and took good care of us, and Maggie knew nothing about it until she had her patients back on their feet and could come home. She never got paid a cent for that. Perhaps, she said, they never did have enough to spare any for me.

It seems to me, looking back on it, that there were an awful lot of people who lived with us at one time or another. A family who was out of work; another family who was having a run of bad luck; a woman who was critically ill, the Manchesters, the Gails, the Johnsons. Maggie always said that it was no task to have people come. She always enjoyed it. I remember getting awfully tired of company, but I guess Mother never did. One morning Maggie found, on her front porch, a bundle neatly wrapped. She opened it and found two pieces of cloth, enough to make two dresses. She later learned it was from someone whom she had befriended.
When all of her children were married, except me, Sammy--, Maggie gave up housekeeping and her life in Huntington and lived with her children. When fire destroyed her home, she sold all of the property there.
For years she nursed, cooked for bridge men and sheep shearers, and earned a living as best she could. She helped her children with their babies and actually attended the birth of most of her grandchildren.
In her effort to find companionship, Maggie married twice after she divorced Frank. They lasted only briefly. She was too attached to her children to make a success of a marriage with anyone but Sam. She deeply regretted these two episodes and even felt that she had sinned. If that is the case, she certainly repented. Perhaps all of her children do not know what she suffered through this. I do; I was with her.


APRIL 26, 1959 6 years later
This history has been lost, and I recently found it. The pages were scattered all over our store room upstairs in our old rock house. They were put there by our renters, when we moved to Salt Lake City. I am grateful that they did not destroy them. I want to add another chapter.
Mother recently celebrated her 90th birthday. She is living in Hillside Manor Rest Home, Which I manage. We have a little cottage out in the back, and it was here that an open house was held. We did not advertise it in the newspaper for we were afraid a large crowd would upset her. I guess we didn't need to advertise, for we had 75 people there. She received many beautiful gifts and cards. The guests were served punch and salad and open faced sandwiches. She had a beautiful cake which was cut and served.
Her picture was taken that day, and she tried to tell the photographer how far away he should be. She didn't want a close-up; it made her look horrible, she said. Clara finally persuaded her to let the man do it his way, but when it was published the following Tuesday, she declared it didn't look a bit like her, and she had planned to send it to Fonso, but she wouldn't send that thing!
Just the same, after that paper came out, there were more telephone calls, more cards and more people came to visit her. This kept on for two weeks. They said they recognized her the moment they saw her picture. They reminded her of some kindness she had done them or some service she had rendered. For instance:
Maggie Wood Smith sent a card. They used to live in Huntington. She played with Aunt Livy and Aunt Ida.
Lizzie Cox called. She was Uncle Dan's granddaughter. She said she used to stay with the children while Mother went out on nursing calls. She said Mother was so good to her that she will never forget her.
Mrs. Ed Bailey came. She lived in Mohrland. She remembered Mother the minute she saw her picture. Mother was the nurse when she had a baby. Shortly after she was up and around the baby got pneumonia. Dr. Railey told Mother to take over, that she could do more for the baby than he could, Mrs. Bailey said. But there was not much anyone could do in those days. The baby died on Mother's lap. Mrs. Bailey said how she appreciated Mother and all her goodness. Because Mother had lost loved ones herself, she could comfort those in sorrow. But I have heard Mother say many times that one never gets over it; one just gets used to it.
Louella Washburn called on the telephone. They had shared many happy experiences, and Mother took care of Louella when her last baby boy was born.
Mr. And Mrs. Melvin Harmon came to see her. They used to live in Huntington. Mrs. Harmon told about the time she was first married and was pregnant. Mother fixed nice food for her to eat because she was so nauseated. They were neighbors. Mother and Father rented two rooms where a store used to be. It was owned by this Mr. Harmon's grandmother.
Mother's kids recalled incidents too, but we were having a good time so the ones we remembered that day were old family jokes on Mother. We recalled the time Mother walked up to Cora Johnson's place with her. When they turned on the light they saw a beautiful dripper cake. Cora supposed that he sister Kate Nielson had brought it to her. They cut it, and since Mother likes the center of the cake instead of the sides, Cora cut her a center piece. They had just finished it, when Emily Lemon knocked on the door. She told Cora they were having a surprise party next door, so she had left her cake at Cora's house so as not to arouse suspicion. Could she please get it?
Another time was when LaVar knocked Mother over. We die laughing every time we tell this. Our house was always open to the young people, and when a group got together, it was natural for them to drift towards our house. The older girls had oyster suppers, candy pulls, and pop corn parties. When Mother married Frank, however, the young people were afraid of him, so the parties were planned when he and Mother were away. This night they had gone to a show, and a party was going on full tilt. When they heard Frank's step on our board walk, some of the boys who like Frank the least, took off out the back door, and LaVar Black, our cousin, ran around the side of the house. What he didn't know was that Mother didn't want to go clear out to the back-house (a two holer), so she squatted down a little way from the house. It was pitch dark, and LaVar, in his haste, ran into her and knocked her flat!
We laughed at the time the butcher saw her across the street one windy March day and called to her, Good Morning, Mrs. Rowley. Would you like a beef roast this morning? She had replied back in the wind, Well, we will all be froze if this weather keeps up. It was not unusual for him to call across the street to her and ask this question, for at that time, she was matron of the Indian Dormitory at Blanding, Utah, and the butcher shop only had fresh meat when someone in the town killed a beef, and sold it to the butcher. (Mother was the matron of the dormitory for 1 year during 1931-32. I helped her that year, and the next year I took it over. Twenty little Indian children were too much for her to cope with, but the next year she helped me. She had gotten married briefly to David Johnson, and so she had quit her job, and I was hired to take her place. She left David and came back and helped me at the dormitory.)
Mother, at 90, still makes beautiful crocheted pieces. She recently made some large doilies or center pieces and is, at this writing, just finishing a large afghan for Lila. She still enjoys reading and is mentally clear. She is a better traveler than any kid she has. Orson, his wife Emmy, and their daughter Lois, Leona, Mother and I went to Huntington in December to Aunt Myrtle's funeral. (Father's brother's wife). We went down and back the same day, and we were all tired out. All but Mother. She was feeling fine! It took me two days to recuperate.
At the time of her open house, Leona had pneumonia, Lila was ill from the effects of hepatitis, Clara had laryngitis, and I was worn to a frazzle. Mother got along fine! We said then that she was in better health than any of her kids.
I took her to the doctor not long ago. He was a specialist and we were referred to him by Mother's doctor. I told him she had diabetes and gall stones. He asked her about her diet for these, and I told him we watched it as best we could, but she had a will of her own. She ate as she pleased, when she could help herself. I told him that just a few days before I asked her what was in her mouth, and she replied, Candy, but I'm sure there's not a bit of sugar in it. Mother asked the doctor about drinking milk. She wondered if it caused gas. He said not if it was skimmed milk. Mother said, Oh, Poo! I'm not drinking that Blue John. And she meant it. I was checking up in the kitchen of the nursing home I run, and asked the Dutch girls where so much cream was being used. It wasn't being served whipped, not enough to justify the expense on the receipts, and the girls said, Well, some of the guests like it on their cereal. I said, Straight? and they replied, Yes. Then I asked Who, for Heaven's sake? They replied in a quiet voice that it was my mother! Here she had been complaining about the pain in the gall bladder area, and was very faithfully taking her medicine after each meal, and was eating straight cream for breakfast! The cooks hadn't questioned it because she was my mother.

3 Years Later -- 1961
Margaret Ellen Black Rowley passed away January 18, 1961 at the age of 92. Orson, Leona, and Sammy were at her bedside, and the hour was a sacred one. She had been ailing since October when she lost a beloved granddaughter. She caught cold during this ordeal and never did get her strength back; however, she was actually sick only two weeks.
Her birthday was January 10, and the family decided she wasn't up to having a lot of company. We decided on a quiet luncheon. I brought her to my house in a wheel chair, and when she was settled she said, I want a big birthday dinner. I want chicken, mashed potatoes, creamed peas and pie, and I want company. We were stunned! She hadn't been eating much, and the past five days sometimes she didn't seem to know what was going on around her. But we really flew to it. We called the members of the family who were living near. We got chicken and pie from Harmon's Kentucky Fried Chicken, and a centerpiece from Brown Floral, and we had her birthday dinner in an hour. She ate well, and enjoyed every bite. But that was the last time she was able to leave the nursing home.
The next week, she was critically ill not in pain, but semi conscious. I asked her when I was feeding her if she wanted to try some Jello again. She said, Good Laws, no! She was spicy to the end. I had her moved into my office so I could be with her as much as possible, and it was here at 5:00 a.m. that she passed away. I had stayed with her all night, and at 4:00 am. Orson came, and five minutes later Leona came. (Neither had been called.) The last two days we had seen her wrinkles smooth out, her hair was dark with only a touch of gray, and when dressed in her temple clothes, she looked very young and beautiful. She was buried in Huntington cemetery by her beloved Sam and their five children.