1.) ISAAC N. WHITE AUTOBIOGRAPHY (part 1)
I was born on a farm in Lawrence County, Ohio, Saturday, December 27, 1841. My parents sold their farm when I was five or six years old, and left Ohio for the State of Iowa.
When a few miles above Saint Louis, the steamboat in which we were journeying broke her main shaft and returned to Saint Louis for repairs. It being late in the fall the boat would not attempt the trip before spring. Father, having a large family, thought it not prudent to return to Saint Louis, and hence asked the captain to put the family with household effects on the shore. We found ourselves on what was called the Missouri Point.
Father soon secured a "log hut" in which to move the family. Being poor as to this world's goods, father secured work. A Mr. Overholser gave us a job cutting wood for the steamboats. I contented myself in working up the tops of the trees and piled one-fourth cord of limbs and brush.
I generally worked with the "hands," and when getting home, father would tell mother how faithful "little Isaac" worked. That was pay
enough for me and it did not fail to bring out all the energy I had.
Many incidents of interest to me occurred during that winter. The overflow of the river had left quite a lake, and during the winter father took us boys to kill fish in this lake by striking the ice with the pole of the ax just over the fish.
Alfred and I ventured to the lake alone one day in the spring. We
slid along on the ice with ax in hand, watching for fish, when suddenly, the ice began to crack, and the water rushed over the ice so rapidly that the ice commenced to sink. We both rushed for the shore. I brought up the rear with the ice disappearing just behind me. When we reached the shore, to our astonishment the whole body of ice disappeared.
When the river cleared of ice, father concluded to make a visit to mother's uncle, Sam Burk, who lived on a big plantation about twenty-two miles from Boonville. We remained here long enough to
raise one crop, during which time I was introduced to the fruits
of slavery, uncle having scores of slaves of all ages.
From my observations, I concluded that slavery was absolutely wrong. This opinion cropped out so often that long before I was out
of my teens, I was denominated an Abolitionist.
Father disposed of his crop, bade "good-bye" to "Uncle Sam," his ranch and colored ranchers, and left on steamboat for Dubuque, Iowa. A day's waiting at Dubuque, then a team came and took us to grandfather's, on Bowen's Prairie, where occurred an incident of note to me.
Alfred and I prowled around the river wharf, anxious to do what we saw the town boys do. We ventured into a small yawl with one of these boys, who jumped out and shoved us out into the river. Alfred,
seeing the difficulty jumped, too. The boat drifted out further into the current. It looked to me as though my life was in danger. I ran to the end of the boat and made a leap towards the shore. I did not get drowned, but I got a soaking. I have thought since that the hand of Providence must have been over me for some future good.
After a few weeks, father bought Grandfather White's farm, grandfather going to Oregon, where he soon died, in his seventy-sixth year. I helped on the farm mostly during the summer months,
attending school during the winter, often going three miles.
During part of the winter of 1855, father took me as a driver with his threshing machine, which I enjoyed when not too cold. On January 18 at about ten o'dock in the morning, I attempted to get off from the horsepower to loosen my whip when my foot slipped, and in an instant, the larger portion of my foot was mashed into a pulp.
I was carried to the house and physicians were sent for. After much parleying of the doctors, there being five of them, about whether to amputate, and whether an anesthetic should be administered, I was asked whether I was willing to take anything before amputation. I answered, "No." They proceeded to amputate my foot, while I gritted my teeth and clinched my hands in order to better stand the pain. They were engaged in amputation for about forty five minutes. Two long years I suffered from that malpractice, ere my leg healed up.
During the winter of 1854, the United Brethren held a revival meeting at the Haden schoolhouse, in Jones County, Iowa. My parents belonged to that church. During the time of the meeting many of the young people of the neighborhood "went forward" and experienced religion. One, whom I knew to be a very tough fellow, would hunt me up in the crowd, and pull and haul at me to go forward to the mourner's hench. This disgusted me, as I thought I discerned a spirit of hypocrisy in this young man. Great excitement prevailed, shouting, clapping of hands with loud amens, some praying and others singing, all at the same time.
All this puzzled me, and I said, "Is this of God?" I wanted religion, but was forced to believe much of this excitement was put on. I thought I knew some who were acting the hypocrite. This caused me great distress of mind, and the meeting closed without my conversion, although others of the family joined the church.
I note one of the "freaks" of the times among the ministers. During a lull in the revival meeting, or while the people were waiting its opening service, one minister would hollo at the top of his powerful voice, "Salvation," or "Hallelujah," all of a sudden. Some of the most timid or nervous ones would spring almost to their feet. I asked the cause of this sudden outburst, and the preacher said the Holy Ghost would come on him so powerfully that he had to give vent to it in that way.
I pondered his explanation with many serious doubts as to whether God had anything to do with it or not. I now believe it was the man, and not the Holy Spirit. The revival closed and father, mother, Alfred, Sarah and Mary Ann were very earnest in their devotions to the church. I wanted to be saved.
I was called a model young boy, but that, I was told by the preachers, was more dangerous than to be an outspoken sinner, since I simply stood in the way of sinners with my morality. I had heard so much about the sinner going to hell, and being tormented with the devils and the angels of the infernal regions with fire and brimstone, that it made my life almost miserable. However, I picked up courage and asked God for a way of escape from these infernal regions, if there was really such a place.
One night I dreamed the end of the world had come. God sent his angels to gather his people. The Devil was on hand with his imps to gather his. I felt from that day a desire to win eternal life, though it might have to be bought dearly by wading through many severe trials.
Early in 1856, my father sold his farm, and we left for the State of Kansas. We got as far as Groomer's Mill, in the northwestern part of Daviess County, Missouri, when Samuel, one of my brothers, took the measles. Here we stopped and secured a house near Victoria. Others of the family came down with the measles. I kept my bed only one day.
During the summer father purchased a farm three miles southwest of Gallatin, the county seat of Daviess County. Here I attended district school till I was in my sixteenth year, when my parents arranged for me to attend the Gallatin Academy. I stuck close to my academic books for one year, boarding at home, going to and fro on horseback.
During this time father purchased a saw and gristmill in Harrison County, some thirty miles away from our home. I went to the mill
and spent the winter of 1858. During this winter I became very intimate with the Methodist minister, and we frequently talked religion. I became very much interested in my soul's salvation, yet I could not see my way clear to join the church, as I could not make myself believe I had "religion." The minister contended I had it, but did not know how to recognize it, hence he contended that my name should appear upon the church record, and thus I became a member of the Methodist Church.
Early in the spring of 1859, I went back to our farm home, where soon a radical change took pIace in my life's work. I was assisting my brothers one day remodeling a fence. We did not make a very respectable showing to mother by way of speed, as we played our time away too much. On coming home for dinner, mother gave us a scolding that counted, as I put it. I knew mother was in the right, but I did not like to be lampooned around on an old farm this way, and, "I will simply leave the diggings," says I.
Seemingly we were all in good humor, no one mad as I could recognize, but I simply meant business. Alfred, my senior by four years, said, "Go." He did this in a twitting manner, believing I was only bluffing, but father, being a Yankee, and mother of Irish descent, planted a certain amount of grit in me, that it was hard for me to take a dare without doing something. In less than an hour I had my few effects in hand and was bidding the family "good-by." Mother could hardly realize that I was going till after I was gone.
I had but three dollars in money, and was ten miles from the nearest station, Hamilton. I had never rode on a railroad train, nor had I ever been from under parental care for even one day. I was a cripple, wearing a wooden leg, and not large and robust for a boy of my age.
As I trudged along the road that evening, resolutions flashed into my mind thick and, fast. My motive was pure, and I resolved to do that which was right, and place myself in the care of God and meet life bravely as it came. By dark I found myself eight miles from home, tired and hungry.
I stopped at Mr. Lenhart's, one of my father's old friends and asked to stay all night. Of course, this was granted and presently I found myself in bed without supper, as I had come in too late to lunch with the family. They were silent upon that subject, and I was too modest to name it.
The old farmer was up bright and early next morning, and this pedestrian relished a square meal. The "old folks" made special inquiry about the health of my father and mother, but never once asked me where I was going. This was very satisfactory to me, as I did not care to divulge my mission, although I had fully made up my mind the day before where I would locate during the summer.
I decided to go to Bowen's Prairie where we once lived, and where I had some relatives. I started early one morning to go toward Hamilton from my lodging place, Mr. Lenhart's. Father followed but did not find me, because I had gone to the next station. I stopped when dark overtook me at a farmhouse, and for the first time in my life, I asked for lodging of a stranger. I had walked twenty-two miles that day and was tired and very hungry, not having eaten anything since morning.
My grit enabled me to tell the man and his good wife a true story of my journey and where I was going. I was treated nicely by these people and there was no charge.
I walked to Utica, about six miles, and was permitted through the kindness of railroad employees to ride, lodge in the caboose, and was given my supper by a kind-hearted brakeman.
I finally arrived at Hannibal the next day, late in the evening, going to bed supperless to save expense. I was put into a room where there were three or four beds occupied by foreigners, and with their gabbling and the buzz and bite of mosquitoes I could not sleep, so I went out on the kitchen roof and slept a little.
In the morning, I made a square meal out of beefsteak, potatoes and gravy. Early in the day, I went by boat to Keokuk, Iowa, waiting till
late in the evening for a train to Dubuque. The conductor on the first train took me as far as Mendota for one dollar. I missed my train for Dubuque, the next train not arriving till in the night. I bought five cents worth of buns and walked to the next station, about eight miles, reaching there just before dark, and although this train only stopped on signal, and I had not enough money to buy a ticket, yet the agent was kind enough to signal the train when I had told him my predicament, I being the only one to get on at this station at this time.
When the conductor came around for tickets, he came to where
I was sitting and I told him my situation, where he only paused
a minute and passed on, and carried me to the little station
opposite Dubuque, where I crossed the Mississippi on a ferryboat.
I had offered up many a silent prayer, asking God to open
up the way so that I could reach my journey's end. So far my
prayers had been certainly answered.
I called at the Dubuque depot to inquire the time of the train to Sand Springs, when I met my Uncle George White. Reaching Sand Springs about dark, with a few cents in my pocket we walked three miles through the mud to my uncle's. Though crippled and very tired, I managed to not complain. Was received by my relatives with open arms, and I tried to be as happy as they seemed to be. I answered many questions about myself and home, and then sat down to the first square meal since leaving Lenhart's.
At Keokuk I dropped my father a line, informing him that I was all right and not to fret about me, and telling him where I was going. After spending a few days pleasantly in meeting relatives and old friends of my younger days, I began to look for something I could do so as to be independent of relatives.
Through the suggestion of my cousin, Nancy, I sought for and obtained a certificate to teach, and though late in the school year secured a school. I had grave forebodings about being qualified to
secure a certificate, but I carried my case to God, asking him to assist me, and my petition was granted. My prayerfulness was the result of my early training by a pious and devoted mother. When I received my certificate I could hardly realize but what I was dreaming.
When I made inquiry for a school I learned there was but one vacancy in the country. This one, I was informed was the "toughest school in the county," and I was advised to not attempt to teach it. I conc1uded to see the director, who thought I could not manage the school, but I said, "Give me the school, and I will try it." He tried to discourage me, but I repeated, "Let me try the school; I'll teach it." I was eulogized by my relatives for attempting to teach such a school.
I boarded with the director, Mr. William Tibbetts, who thought I should begin the school by getting a club, knocking down and
dragging out.
On my way to school the first morning I found a new leather strap, which I thought better than a club. I got along quite well till about Thursday of the first week, when I had to severely punish one of the large boys who had been prominent in disturbing former schools.
I was informed that the father of this boy was a large man and would possibly take the boy's part and give me a severe thrashing. I had occasion to go past the house of this man on my way to fulfill a previous engagement, and this man met me at the gate as I was passing, and as he came out of the gate I was fearful that he might be coming out to give me a severe beating, but when he opened the gate I saw a smile on his countenance, and he congratulated me in doing that which no other teacher had done, saying, "You have conquered my boy; you have done it completely; you have my explicit confidence and endorsement."
I had sought the Lord to help me out of this troublesome affair, and after it turned out as it did, I did not fail in telling him how thankful I was for the aid he had rendered me. From this time on I had an orderly school. The young man I had punished became a fast friend, and I do not know that I had an enemy there. The request was made that I teach the winter term, but I felt it wiser for me to attend school rather than to teach.
(This was to be continued in a future edition, but it couldn't be located at this time.)
SOURCE: Journal of History - Volume 9 (1916), pgs 87-96
[The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints]
2.) FURTHER INFORMATION:
1. Death Certificate #36222:
Born: Lawrence Co. O...
Residence: 906 W Maple, Independence, MO
Minister
Married: Emily White
Father: Wm A White Born in Vermont
Mother: Mary Burke
Informant: Ammon White, 3095 S Fuller, Independence, MO
Lot Owner: Ammon White
I was born on a farm in Lawrence County, Ohio, Saturday, December 27, 1841. My parents sold their farm when I was five or six years old, and left Ohio for the State of Iowa.
When a few miles above Saint Louis, the steamboat in which we were journeying broke her main shaft and returned to Saint Louis for repairs. It being late in the fall the boat would not attempt the trip before spring. Father, having a large family, thought it not prudent to return to Saint Louis, and hence asked the captain to put the family with household effects on the shore. We found ourselves on what was called the Missouri Point.
Father soon secured a "log hut" in which to move the family. Being poor as to this world's goods, father secured work. A Mr. Overholser gave us a job cutting wood for the steamboats. I contented myself in working up the tops of the trees and piled one-fourth cord of limbs and brush.
I generally worked with the "hands," and when getting home, father would tell mother how faithful "little Isaac" worked. That was pay
enough for me and it did not fail to bring out all the energy I had.
Many incidents of interest to me occurred during that winter. The overflow of the river had left quite a lake, and during the winter father took us boys to kill fish in this lake by striking the ice with the pole of the ax just over the fish.
Alfred and I ventured to the lake alone one day in the spring. We
slid along on the ice with ax in hand, watching for fish, when suddenly, the ice began to crack, and the water rushed over the ice so rapidly that the ice commenced to sink. We both rushed for the shore. I brought up the rear with the ice disappearing just behind me. When we reached the shore, to our astonishment the whole body of ice disappeared.
When the river cleared of ice, father concluded to make a visit to mother's uncle, Sam Burk, who lived on a big plantation about twenty-two miles from Boonville. We remained here long enough to
raise one crop, during which time I was introduced to the fruits
of slavery, uncle having scores of slaves of all ages.
From my observations, I concluded that slavery was absolutely wrong. This opinion cropped out so often that long before I was out
of my teens, I was denominated an Abolitionist.
Father disposed of his crop, bade "good-bye" to "Uncle Sam," his ranch and colored ranchers, and left on steamboat for Dubuque, Iowa. A day's waiting at Dubuque, then a team came and took us to grandfather's, on Bowen's Prairie, where occurred an incident of note to me.
Alfred and I prowled around the river wharf, anxious to do what we saw the town boys do. We ventured into a small yawl with one of these boys, who jumped out and shoved us out into the river. Alfred,
seeing the difficulty jumped, too. The boat drifted out further into the current. It looked to me as though my life was in danger. I ran to the end of the boat and made a leap towards the shore. I did not get drowned, but I got a soaking. I have thought since that the hand of Providence must have been over me for some future good.
After a few weeks, father bought Grandfather White's farm, grandfather going to Oregon, where he soon died, in his seventy-sixth year. I helped on the farm mostly during the summer months,
attending school during the winter, often going three miles.
During part of the winter of 1855, father took me as a driver with his threshing machine, which I enjoyed when not too cold. On January 18 at about ten o'dock in the morning, I attempted to get off from the horsepower to loosen my whip when my foot slipped, and in an instant, the larger portion of my foot was mashed into a pulp.
I was carried to the house and physicians were sent for. After much parleying of the doctors, there being five of them, about whether to amputate, and whether an anesthetic should be administered, I was asked whether I was willing to take anything before amputation. I answered, "No." They proceeded to amputate my foot, while I gritted my teeth and clinched my hands in order to better stand the pain. They were engaged in amputation for about forty five minutes. Two long years I suffered from that malpractice, ere my leg healed up.
During the winter of 1854, the United Brethren held a revival meeting at the Haden schoolhouse, in Jones County, Iowa. My parents belonged to that church. During the time of the meeting many of the young people of the neighborhood "went forward" and experienced religion. One, whom I knew to be a very tough fellow, would hunt me up in the crowd, and pull and haul at me to go forward to the mourner's hench. This disgusted me, as I thought I discerned a spirit of hypocrisy in this young man. Great excitement prevailed, shouting, clapping of hands with loud amens, some praying and others singing, all at the same time.
All this puzzled me, and I said, "Is this of God?" I wanted religion, but was forced to believe much of this excitement was put on. I thought I knew some who were acting the hypocrite. This caused me great distress of mind, and the meeting closed without my conversion, although others of the family joined the church.
I note one of the "freaks" of the times among the ministers. During a lull in the revival meeting, or while the people were waiting its opening service, one minister would hollo at the top of his powerful voice, "Salvation," or "Hallelujah," all of a sudden. Some of the most timid or nervous ones would spring almost to their feet. I asked the cause of this sudden outburst, and the preacher said the Holy Ghost would come on him so powerfully that he had to give vent to it in that way.
I pondered his explanation with many serious doubts as to whether God had anything to do with it or not. I now believe it was the man, and not the Holy Spirit. The revival closed and father, mother, Alfred, Sarah and Mary Ann were very earnest in their devotions to the church. I wanted to be saved.
I was called a model young boy, but that, I was told by the preachers, was more dangerous than to be an outspoken sinner, since I simply stood in the way of sinners with my morality. I had heard so much about the sinner going to hell, and being tormented with the devils and the angels of the infernal regions with fire and brimstone, that it made my life almost miserable. However, I picked up courage and asked God for a way of escape from these infernal regions, if there was really such a place.
One night I dreamed the end of the world had come. God sent his angels to gather his people. The Devil was on hand with his imps to gather his. I felt from that day a desire to win eternal life, though it might have to be bought dearly by wading through many severe trials.
Early in 1856, my father sold his farm, and we left for the State of Kansas. We got as far as Groomer's Mill, in the northwestern part of Daviess County, Missouri, when Samuel, one of my brothers, took the measles. Here we stopped and secured a house near Victoria. Others of the family came down with the measles. I kept my bed only one day.
During the summer father purchased a farm three miles southwest of Gallatin, the county seat of Daviess County. Here I attended district school till I was in my sixteenth year, when my parents arranged for me to attend the Gallatin Academy. I stuck close to my academic books for one year, boarding at home, going to and fro on horseback.
During this time father purchased a saw and gristmill in Harrison County, some thirty miles away from our home. I went to the mill
and spent the winter of 1858. During this winter I became very intimate with the Methodist minister, and we frequently talked religion. I became very much interested in my soul's salvation, yet I could not see my way clear to join the church, as I could not make myself believe I had "religion." The minister contended I had it, but did not know how to recognize it, hence he contended that my name should appear upon the church record, and thus I became a member of the Methodist Church.
Early in the spring of 1859, I went back to our farm home, where soon a radical change took pIace in my life's work. I was assisting my brothers one day remodeling a fence. We did not make a very respectable showing to mother by way of speed, as we played our time away too much. On coming home for dinner, mother gave us a scolding that counted, as I put it. I knew mother was in the right, but I did not like to be lampooned around on an old farm this way, and, "I will simply leave the diggings," says I.
Seemingly we were all in good humor, no one mad as I could recognize, but I simply meant business. Alfred, my senior by four years, said, "Go." He did this in a twitting manner, believing I was only bluffing, but father, being a Yankee, and mother of Irish descent, planted a certain amount of grit in me, that it was hard for me to take a dare without doing something. In less than an hour I had my few effects in hand and was bidding the family "good-by." Mother could hardly realize that I was going till after I was gone.
I had but three dollars in money, and was ten miles from the nearest station, Hamilton. I had never rode on a railroad train, nor had I ever been from under parental care for even one day. I was a cripple, wearing a wooden leg, and not large and robust for a boy of my age.
As I trudged along the road that evening, resolutions flashed into my mind thick and, fast. My motive was pure, and I resolved to do that which was right, and place myself in the care of God and meet life bravely as it came. By dark I found myself eight miles from home, tired and hungry.
I stopped at Mr. Lenhart's, one of my father's old friends and asked to stay all night. Of course, this was granted and presently I found myself in bed without supper, as I had come in too late to lunch with the family. They were silent upon that subject, and I was too modest to name it.
The old farmer was up bright and early next morning, and this pedestrian relished a square meal. The "old folks" made special inquiry about the health of my father and mother, but never once asked me where I was going. This was very satisfactory to me, as I did not care to divulge my mission, although I had fully made up my mind the day before where I would locate during the summer.
I decided to go to Bowen's Prairie where we once lived, and where I had some relatives. I started early one morning to go toward Hamilton from my lodging place, Mr. Lenhart's. Father followed but did not find me, because I had gone to the next station. I stopped when dark overtook me at a farmhouse, and for the first time in my life, I asked for lodging of a stranger. I had walked twenty-two miles that day and was tired and very hungry, not having eaten anything since morning.
My grit enabled me to tell the man and his good wife a true story of my journey and where I was going. I was treated nicely by these people and there was no charge.
I walked to Utica, about six miles, and was permitted through the kindness of railroad employees to ride, lodge in the caboose, and was given my supper by a kind-hearted brakeman.
I finally arrived at Hannibal the next day, late in the evening, going to bed supperless to save expense. I was put into a room where there were three or four beds occupied by foreigners, and with their gabbling and the buzz and bite of mosquitoes I could not sleep, so I went out on the kitchen roof and slept a little.
In the morning, I made a square meal out of beefsteak, potatoes and gravy. Early in the day, I went by boat to Keokuk, Iowa, waiting till
late in the evening for a train to Dubuque. The conductor on the first train took me as far as Mendota for one dollar. I missed my train for Dubuque, the next train not arriving till in the night. I bought five cents worth of buns and walked to the next station, about eight miles, reaching there just before dark, and although this train only stopped on signal, and I had not enough money to buy a ticket, yet the agent was kind enough to signal the train when I had told him my predicament, I being the only one to get on at this station at this time.
When the conductor came around for tickets, he came to where
I was sitting and I told him my situation, where he only paused
a minute and passed on, and carried me to the little station
opposite Dubuque, where I crossed the Mississippi on a ferryboat.
I had offered up many a silent prayer, asking God to open
up the way so that I could reach my journey's end. So far my
prayers had been certainly answered.
I called at the Dubuque depot to inquire the time of the train to Sand Springs, when I met my Uncle George White. Reaching Sand Springs about dark, with a few cents in my pocket we walked three miles through the mud to my uncle's. Though crippled and very tired, I managed to not complain. Was received by my relatives with open arms, and I tried to be as happy as they seemed to be. I answered many questions about myself and home, and then sat down to the first square meal since leaving Lenhart's.
At Keokuk I dropped my father a line, informing him that I was all right and not to fret about me, and telling him where I was going. After spending a few days pleasantly in meeting relatives and old friends of my younger days, I began to look for something I could do so as to be independent of relatives.
Through the suggestion of my cousin, Nancy, I sought for and obtained a certificate to teach, and though late in the school year secured a school. I had grave forebodings about being qualified to
secure a certificate, but I carried my case to God, asking him to assist me, and my petition was granted. My prayerfulness was the result of my early training by a pious and devoted mother. When I received my certificate I could hardly realize but what I was dreaming.
When I made inquiry for a school I learned there was but one vacancy in the country. This one, I was informed was the "toughest school in the county," and I was advised to not attempt to teach it. I conc1uded to see the director, who thought I could not manage the school, but I said, "Give me the school, and I will try it." He tried to discourage me, but I repeated, "Let me try the school; I'll teach it." I was eulogized by my relatives for attempting to teach such a school.
I boarded with the director, Mr. William Tibbetts, who thought I should begin the school by getting a club, knocking down and
dragging out.
On my way to school the first morning I found a new leather strap, which I thought better than a club. I got along quite well till about Thursday of the first week, when I had to severely punish one of the large boys who had been prominent in disturbing former schools.
I was informed that the father of this boy was a large man and would possibly take the boy's part and give me a severe thrashing. I had occasion to go past the house of this man on my way to fulfill a previous engagement, and this man met me at the gate as I was passing, and as he came out of the gate I was fearful that he might be coming out to give me a severe beating, but when he opened the gate I saw a smile on his countenance, and he congratulated me in doing that which no other teacher had done, saying, "You have conquered my boy; you have done it completely; you have my explicit confidence and endorsement."
I had sought the Lord to help me out of this troublesome affair, and after it turned out as it did, I did not fail in telling him how thankful I was for the aid he had rendered me. From this time on I had an orderly school. The young man I had punished became a fast friend, and I do not know that I had an enemy there. The request was made that I teach the winter term, but I felt it wiser for me to attend school rather than to teach.
(This was to be continued in a future edition, but it couldn't be located at this time.)
SOURCE: Journal of History - Volume 9 (1916), pgs 87-96
[The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints]
2.) FURTHER INFORMATION:
1. Death Certificate #36222:
Born: Lawrence Co. O...
Residence: 906 W Maple, Independence, MO
Minister
Married: Emily White
Father: Wm A White Born in Vermont
Mother: Mary Burke
Informant: Ammon White, 3095 S Fuller, Independence, MO
Lot Owner: Ammon White
1.) ISAAC N. WHITE AUTOBIOGRAPHY (part 1)
I was born on a farm in Lawrence County, Ohio, Saturday, December 27, 1841. My parents sold their farm when I was five or six years old, and left Ohio for the State of Iowa.
When a few miles above Saint Louis, the steamboat in which we were journeying broke her main shaft and returned to Saint Louis for repairs. It being late in the fall the boat would not attempt the trip before spring. Father, having a large family, thought it not prudent to return to Saint Louis, and hence asked the captain to put the family with household effects on the shore. We found ourselves on what was called the Missouri Point.
Father soon secured a "log hut" in which to move the family. Being poor as to this world's goods, father secured work. A Mr. Overholser gave us a job cutting wood for the steamboats. I contented myself in working up the tops of the trees and piled one-fourth cord of limbs and brush.
I generally worked with the "hands," and when getting home, father would tell mother how faithful "little Isaac" worked. That was pay
enough for me and it did not fail to bring out all the energy I had.
Many incidents of interest to me occurred during that winter. The overflow of the river had left quite a lake, and during the winter father took us boys to kill fish in this lake by striking the ice with the pole of the ax just over the fish.
Alfred and I ventured to the lake alone one day in the spring. We
slid along on the ice with ax in hand, watching for fish, when suddenly, the ice began to crack, and the water rushed over the ice so rapidly that the ice commenced to sink. We both rushed for the shore. I brought up the rear with the ice disappearing just behind me. When we reached the shore, to our astonishment the whole body of ice disappeared.
When the river cleared of ice, father concluded to make a visit to mother's uncle, Sam Burk, who lived on a big plantation about twenty-two miles from Boonville. We remained here long enough to
raise one crop, during which time I was introduced to the fruits
of slavery, uncle having scores of slaves of all ages.
From my observations, I concluded that slavery was absolutely wrong. This opinion cropped out so often that long before I was out
of my teens, I was denominated an Abolitionist.
Father disposed of his crop, bade "good-bye" to "Uncle Sam," his ranch and colored ranchers, and left on steamboat for Dubuque, Iowa. A day's waiting at Dubuque, then a team came and took us to grandfather's, on Bowen's Prairie, where occurred an incident of note to me.
Alfred and I prowled around the river wharf, anxious to do what we saw the town boys do. We ventured into a small yawl with one of these boys, who jumped out and shoved us out into the river. Alfred,
seeing the difficulty jumped, too. The boat drifted out further into the current. It looked to me as though my life was in danger. I ran to the end of the boat and made a leap towards the shore. I did not get drowned, but I got a soaking. I have thought since that the hand of Providence must have been over me for some future good.
After a few weeks, father bought Grandfather White's farm, grandfather going to Oregon, where he soon died, in his seventy-sixth year. I helped on the farm mostly during the summer months,
attending school during the winter, often going three miles.
During part of the winter of 1855, father took me as a driver with his threshing machine, which I enjoyed when not too cold. On January 18 at about ten o'dock in the morning, I attempted to get off from the horsepower to loosen my whip when my foot slipped, and in an instant, the larger portion of my foot was mashed into a pulp.
I was carried to the house and physicians were sent for. After much parleying of the doctors, there being five of them, about whether to amputate, and whether an anesthetic should be administered, I was asked whether I was willing to take anything before amputation. I answered, "No." They proceeded to amputate my foot, while I gritted my teeth and clinched my hands in order to better stand the pain. They were engaged in amputation for about forty five minutes. Two long years I suffered from that malpractice, ere my leg healed up.
During the winter of 1854, the United Brethren held a revival meeting at the Haden schoolhouse, in Jones County, Iowa. My parents belonged to that church. During the time of the meeting many of the young people of the neighborhood "went forward" and experienced religion. One, whom I knew to be a very tough fellow, would hunt me up in the crowd, and pull and haul at me to go forward to the mourner's hench. This disgusted me, as I thought I discerned a spirit of hypocrisy in this young man. Great excitement prevailed, shouting, clapping of hands with loud amens, some praying and others singing, all at the same time.
All this puzzled me, and I said, "Is this of God?" I wanted religion, but was forced to believe much of this excitement was put on. I thought I knew some who were acting the hypocrite. This caused me great distress of mind, and the meeting closed without my conversion, although others of the family joined the church.
I note one of the "freaks" of the times among the ministers. During a lull in the revival meeting, or while the people were waiting its opening service, one minister would hollo at the top of his powerful voice, "Salvation," or "Hallelujah," all of a sudden. Some of the most timid or nervous ones would spring almost to their feet. I asked the cause of this sudden outburst, and the preacher said the Holy Ghost would come on him so powerfully that he had to give vent to it in that way.
I pondered his explanation with many serious doubts as to whether God had anything to do with it or not. I now believe it was the man, and not the Holy Spirit. The revival closed and father, mother, Alfred, Sarah and Mary Ann were very earnest in their devotions to the church. I wanted to be saved.
I was called a model young boy, but that, I was told by the preachers, was more dangerous than to be an outspoken sinner, since I simply stood in the way of sinners with my morality. I had heard so much about the sinner going to hell, and being tormented with the devils and the angels of the infernal regions with fire and brimstone, that it made my life almost miserable. However, I picked up courage and asked God for a way of escape from these infernal regions, if there was really such a place.
One night I dreamed the end of the world had come. God sent his angels to gather his people. The Devil was on hand with his imps to gather his. I felt from that day a desire to win eternal life, though it might have to be bought dearly by wading through many severe trials.
Early in 1856, my father sold his farm, and we left for the State of Kansas. We got as far as Groomer's Mill, in the northwestern part of Daviess County, Missouri, when Samuel, one of my brothers, took the measles. Here we stopped and secured a house near Victoria. Others of the family came down with the measles. I kept my bed only one day.
During the summer father purchased a farm three miles southwest of Gallatin, the county seat of Daviess County. Here I attended district school till I was in my sixteenth year, when my parents arranged for me to attend the Gallatin Academy. I stuck close to my academic books for one year, boarding at home, going to and fro on horseback.
During this time father purchased a saw and gristmill in Harrison County, some thirty miles away from our home. I went to the mill
and spent the winter of 1858. During this winter I became very intimate with the Methodist minister, and we frequently talked religion. I became very much interested in my soul's salvation, yet I could not see my way clear to join the church, as I could not make myself believe I had "religion." The minister contended I had it, but did not know how to recognize it, hence he contended that my name should appear upon the church record, and thus I became a member of the Methodist Church.
Early in the spring of 1859, I went back to our farm home, where soon a radical change took pIace in my life's work. I was assisting my brothers one day remodeling a fence. We did not make a very respectable showing to mother by way of speed, as we played our time away too much. On coming home for dinner, mother gave us a scolding that counted, as I put it. I knew mother was in the right, but I did not like to be lampooned around on an old farm this way, and, "I will simply leave the diggings," says I.
Seemingly we were all in good humor, no one mad as I could recognize, but I simply meant business. Alfred, my senior by four years, said, "Go." He did this in a twitting manner, believing I was only bluffing, but father, being a Yankee, and mother of Irish descent, planted a certain amount of grit in me, that it was hard for me to take a dare without doing something. In less than an hour I had my few effects in hand and was bidding the family "good-by." Mother could hardly realize that I was going till after I was gone.
I had but three dollars in money, and was ten miles from the nearest station, Hamilton. I had never rode on a railroad train, nor had I ever been from under parental care for even one day. I was a cripple, wearing a wooden leg, and not large and robust for a boy of my age.
As I trudged along the road that evening, resolutions flashed into my mind thick and, fast. My motive was pure, and I resolved to do that which was right, and place myself in the care of God and meet life bravely as it came. By dark I found myself eight miles from home, tired and hungry.
I stopped at Mr. Lenhart's, one of my father's old friends and asked to stay all night. Of course, this was granted and presently I found myself in bed without supper, as I had come in too late to lunch with the family. They were silent upon that subject, and I was too modest to name it.
The old farmer was up bright and early next morning, and this pedestrian relished a square meal. The "old folks" made special inquiry about the health of my father and mother, but never once asked me where I was going. This was very satisfactory to me, as I did not care to divulge my mission, although I had fully made up my mind the day before where I would locate during the summer.
I decided to go to Bowen's Prairie where we once lived, and where I had some relatives. I started early one morning to go toward Hamilton from my lodging place, Mr. Lenhart's. Father followed but did not find me, because I had gone to the next station. I stopped when dark overtook me at a farmhouse, and for the first time in my life, I asked for lodging of a stranger. I had walked twenty-two miles that day and was tired and very hungry, not having eaten anything since morning.
My grit enabled me to tell the man and his good wife a true story of my journey and where I was going. I was treated nicely by these people and there was no charge.
I walked to Utica, about six miles, and was permitted through the kindness of railroad employees to ride, lodge in the caboose, and was given my supper by a kind-hearted brakeman.
I finally arrived at Hannibal the next day, late in the evening, going to bed supperless to save expense. I was put into a room where there were three or four beds occupied by foreigners, and with their gabbling and the buzz and bite of mosquitoes I could not sleep, so I went out on the kitchen roof and slept a little.
In the morning, I made a square meal out of beefsteak, potatoes and gravy. Early in the day, I went by boat to Keokuk, Iowa, waiting till
late in the evening for a train to Dubuque. The conductor on the first train took me as far as Mendota for one dollar. I missed my train for Dubuque, the next train not arriving till in the night. I bought five cents worth of buns and walked to the next station, about eight miles, reaching there just before dark, and although this train only stopped on signal, and I had not enough money to buy a ticket, yet the agent was kind enough to signal the train when I had told him my predicament, I being the only one to get on at this station at this time.
When the conductor came around for tickets, he came to where
I was sitting and I told him my situation, where he only paused
a minute and passed on, and carried me to the little station
opposite Dubuque, where I crossed the Mississippi on a ferryboat.
I had offered up many a silent prayer, asking God to open
up the way so that I could reach my journey's end. So far my
prayers had been certainly answered.
I called at the Dubuque depot to inquire the time of the train to Sand Springs, when I met my Uncle George White. Reaching Sand Springs about dark, with a few cents in my pocket we walked three miles through the mud to my uncle's. Though crippled and very tired, I managed to not complain. Was received by my relatives with open arms, and I tried to be as happy as they seemed to be. I answered many questions about myself and home, and then sat down to the first square meal since leaving Lenhart's.
At Keokuk I dropped my father a line, informing him that I was all right and not to fret about me, and telling him where I was going. After spending a few days pleasantly in meeting relatives and old friends of my younger days, I began to look for something I could do so as to be independent of relatives.
Through the suggestion of my cousin, Nancy, I sought for and obtained a certificate to teach, and though late in the school year secured a school. I had grave forebodings about being qualified to
secure a certificate, but I carried my case to God, asking him to assist me, and my petition was granted. My prayerfulness was the result of my early training by a pious and devoted mother. When I received my certificate I could hardly realize but what I was dreaming.
When I made inquiry for a school I learned there was but one vacancy in the country. This one, I was informed was the "toughest school in the county," and I was advised to not attempt to teach it. I conc1uded to see the director, who thought I could not manage the school, but I said, "Give me the school, and I will try it." He tried to discourage me, but I repeated, "Let me try the school; I'll teach it." I was eulogized by my relatives for attempting to teach such a school.
I boarded with the director, Mr. William Tibbetts, who thought I should begin the school by getting a club, knocking down and
dragging out.
On my way to school the first morning I found a new leather strap, which I thought better than a club. I got along quite well till about Thursday of the first week, when I had to severely punish one of the large boys who had been prominent in disturbing former schools.
I was informed that the father of this boy was a large man and would possibly take the boy's part and give me a severe thrashing. I had occasion to go past the house of this man on my way to fulfill a previous engagement, and this man met me at the gate as I was passing, and as he came out of the gate I was fearful that he might be coming out to give me a severe beating, but when he opened the gate I saw a smile on his countenance, and he congratulated me in doing that which no other teacher had done, saying, "You have conquered my boy; you have done it completely; you have my explicit confidence and endorsement."
I had sought the Lord to help me out of this troublesome affair, and after it turned out as it did, I did not fail in telling him how thankful I was for the aid he had rendered me. From this time on I had an orderly school. The young man I had punished became a fast friend, and I do not know that I had an enemy there. The request was made that I teach the winter term, but I felt it wiser for me to attend school rather than to teach.
(This was to be continued in a future edition, but it couldn't be located at this time.)
SOURCE: Journal of History - Volume 9 (1916), pgs 87-96
[The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints]
2.) FURTHER INFORMATION:
1. Death Certificate #36222:
Born: Lawrence Co. O...
Residence: 906 W Maple, Independence, MO
Minister
Married: Emily White
Father: Wm A White Born in Vermont
Mother: Mary Burke
Informant: Ammon White, 3095 S Fuller, Independence, MO
Lot Owner: Ammon White
I was born on a farm in Lawrence County, Ohio, Saturday, December 27, 1841. My parents sold their farm when I was five or six years old, and left Ohio for the State of Iowa.
When a few miles above Saint Louis, the steamboat in which we were journeying broke her main shaft and returned to Saint Louis for repairs. It being late in the fall the boat would not attempt the trip before spring. Father, having a large family, thought it not prudent to return to Saint Louis, and hence asked the captain to put the family with household effects on the shore. We found ourselves on what was called the Missouri Point.
Father soon secured a "log hut" in which to move the family. Being poor as to this world's goods, father secured work. A Mr. Overholser gave us a job cutting wood for the steamboats. I contented myself in working up the tops of the trees and piled one-fourth cord of limbs and brush.
I generally worked with the "hands," and when getting home, father would tell mother how faithful "little Isaac" worked. That was pay
enough for me and it did not fail to bring out all the energy I had.
Many incidents of interest to me occurred during that winter. The overflow of the river had left quite a lake, and during the winter father took us boys to kill fish in this lake by striking the ice with the pole of the ax just over the fish.
Alfred and I ventured to the lake alone one day in the spring. We
slid along on the ice with ax in hand, watching for fish, when suddenly, the ice began to crack, and the water rushed over the ice so rapidly that the ice commenced to sink. We both rushed for the shore. I brought up the rear with the ice disappearing just behind me. When we reached the shore, to our astonishment the whole body of ice disappeared.
When the river cleared of ice, father concluded to make a visit to mother's uncle, Sam Burk, who lived on a big plantation about twenty-two miles from Boonville. We remained here long enough to
raise one crop, during which time I was introduced to the fruits
of slavery, uncle having scores of slaves of all ages.
From my observations, I concluded that slavery was absolutely wrong. This opinion cropped out so often that long before I was out
of my teens, I was denominated an Abolitionist.
Father disposed of his crop, bade "good-bye" to "Uncle Sam," his ranch and colored ranchers, and left on steamboat for Dubuque, Iowa. A day's waiting at Dubuque, then a team came and took us to grandfather's, on Bowen's Prairie, where occurred an incident of note to me.
Alfred and I prowled around the river wharf, anxious to do what we saw the town boys do. We ventured into a small yawl with one of these boys, who jumped out and shoved us out into the river. Alfred,
seeing the difficulty jumped, too. The boat drifted out further into the current. It looked to me as though my life was in danger. I ran to the end of the boat and made a leap towards the shore. I did not get drowned, but I got a soaking. I have thought since that the hand of Providence must have been over me for some future good.
After a few weeks, father bought Grandfather White's farm, grandfather going to Oregon, where he soon died, in his seventy-sixth year. I helped on the farm mostly during the summer months,
attending school during the winter, often going three miles.
During part of the winter of 1855, father took me as a driver with his threshing machine, which I enjoyed when not too cold. On January 18 at about ten o'dock in the morning, I attempted to get off from the horsepower to loosen my whip when my foot slipped, and in an instant, the larger portion of my foot was mashed into a pulp.
I was carried to the house and physicians were sent for. After much parleying of the doctors, there being five of them, about whether to amputate, and whether an anesthetic should be administered, I was asked whether I was willing to take anything before amputation. I answered, "No." They proceeded to amputate my foot, while I gritted my teeth and clinched my hands in order to better stand the pain. They were engaged in amputation for about forty five minutes. Two long years I suffered from that malpractice, ere my leg healed up.
During the winter of 1854, the United Brethren held a revival meeting at the Haden schoolhouse, in Jones County, Iowa. My parents belonged to that church. During the time of the meeting many of the young people of the neighborhood "went forward" and experienced religion. One, whom I knew to be a very tough fellow, would hunt me up in the crowd, and pull and haul at me to go forward to the mourner's hench. This disgusted me, as I thought I discerned a spirit of hypocrisy in this young man. Great excitement prevailed, shouting, clapping of hands with loud amens, some praying and others singing, all at the same time.
All this puzzled me, and I said, "Is this of God?" I wanted religion, but was forced to believe much of this excitement was put on. I thought I knew some who were acting the hypocrite. This caused me great distress of mind, and the meeting closed without my conversion, although others of the family joined the church.
I note one of the "freaks" of the times among the ministers. During a lull in the revival meeting, or while the people were waiting its opening service, one minister would hollo at the top of his powerful voice, "Salvation," or "Hallelujah," all of a sudden. Some of the most timid or nervous ones would spring almost to their feet. I asked the cause of this sudden outburst, and the preacher said the Holy Ghost would come on him so powerfully that he had to give vent to it in that way.
I pondered his explanation with many serious doubts as to whether God had anything to do with it or not. I now believe it was the man, and not the Holy Spirit. The revival closed and father, mother, Alfred, Sarah and Mary Ann were very earnest in their devotions to the church. I wanted to be saved.
I was called a model young boy, but that, I was told by the preachers, was more dangerous than to be an outspoken sinner, since I simply stood in the way of sinners with my morality. I had heard so much about the sinner going to hell, and being tormented with the devils and the angels of the infernal regions with fire and brimstone, that it made my life almost miserable. However, I picked up courage and asked God for a way of escape from these infernal regions, if there was really such a place.
One night I dreamed the end of the world had come. God sent his angels to gather his people. The Devil was on hand with his imps to gather his. I felt from that day a desire to win eternal life, though it might have to be bought dearly by wading through many severe trials.
Early in 1856, my father sold his farm, and we left for the State of Kansas. We got as far as Groomer's Mill, in the northwestern part of Daviess County, Missouri, when Samuel, one of my brothers, took the measles. Here we stopped and secured a house near Victoria. Others of the family came down with the measles. I kept my bed only one day.
During the summer father purchased a farm three miles southwest of Gallatin, the county seat of Daviess County. Here I attended district school till I was in my sixteenth year, when my parents arranged for me to attend the Gallatin Academy. I stuck close to my academic books for one year, boarding at home, going to and fro on horseback.
During this time father purchased a saw and gristmill in Harrison County, some thirty miles away from our home. I went to the mill
and spent the winter of 1858. During this winter I became very intimate with the Methodist minister, and we frequently talked religion. I became very much interested in my soul's salvation, yet I could not see my way clear to join the church, as I could not make myself believe I had "religion." The minister contended I had it, but did not know how to recognize it, hence he contended that my name should appear upon the church record, and thus I became a member of the Methodist Church.
Early in the spring of 1859, I went back to our farm home, where soon a radical change took pIace in my life's work. I was assisting my brothers one day remodeling a fence. We did not make a very respectable showing to mother by way of speed, as we played our time away too much. On coming home for dinner, mother gave us a scolding that counted, as I put it. I knew mother was in the right, but I did not like to be lampooned around on an old farm this way, and, "I will simply leave the diggings," says I.
Seemingly we were all in good humor, no one mad as I could recognize, but I simply meant business. Alfred, my senior by four years, said, "Go." He did this in a twitting manner, believing I was only bluffing, but father, being a Yankee, and mother of Irish descent, planted a certain amount of grit in me, that it was hard for me to take a dare without doing something. In less than an hour I had my few effects in hand and was bidding the family "good-by." Mother could hardly realize that I was going till after I was gone.
I had but three dollars in money, and was ten miles from the nearest station, Hamilton. I had never rode on a railroad train, nor had I ever been from under parental care for even one day. I was a cripple, wearing a wooden leg, and not large and robust for a boy of my age.
As I trudged along the road that evening, resolutions flashed into my mind thick and, fast. My motive was pure, and I resolved to do that which was right, and place myself in the care of God and meet life bravely as it came. By dark I found myself eight miles from home, tired and hungry.
I stopped at Mr. Lenhart's, one of my father's old friends and asked to stay all night. Of course, this was granted and presently I found myself in bed without supper, as I had come in too late to lunch with the family. They were silent upon that subject, and I was too modest to name it.
The old farmer was up bright and early next morning, and this pedestrian relished a square meal. The "old folks" made special inquiry about the health of my father and mother, but never once asked me where I was going. This was very satisfactory to me, as I did not care to divulge my mission, although I had fully made up my mind the day before where I would locate during the summer.
I decided to go to Bowen's Prairie where we once lived, and where I had some relatives. I started early one morning to go toward Hamilton from my lodging place, Mr. Lenhart's. Father followed but did not find me, because I had gone to the next station. I stopped when dark overtook me at a farmhouse, and for the first time in my life, I asked for lodging of a stranger. I had walked twenty-two miles that day and was tired and very hungry, not having eaten anything since morning.
My grit enabled me to tell the man and his good wife a true story of my journey and where I was going. I was treated nicely by these people and there was no charge.
I walked to Utica, about six miles, and was permitted through the kindness of railroad employees to ride, lodge in the caboose, and was given my supper by a kind-hearted brakeman.
I finally arrived at Hannibal the next day, late in the evening, going to bed supperless to save expense. I was put into a room where there were three or four beds occupied by foreigners, and with their gabbling and the buzz and bite of mosquitoes I could not sleep, so I went out on the kitchen roof and slept a little.
In the morning, I made a square meal out of beefsteak, potatoes and gravy. Early in the day, I went by boat to Keokuk, Iowa, waiting till
late in the evening for a train to Dubuque. The conductor on the first train took me as far as Mendota for one dollar. I missed my train for Dubuque, the next train not arriving till in the night. I bought five cents worth of buns and walked to the next station, about eight miles, reaching there just before dark, and although this train only stopped on signal, and I had not enough money to buy a ticket, yet the agent was kind enough to signal the train when I had told him my predicament, I being the only one to get on at this station at this time.
When the conductor came around for tickets, he came to where
I was sitting and I told him my situation, where he only paused
a minute and passed on, and carried me to the little station
opposite Dubuque, where I crossed the Mississippi on a ferryboat.
I had offered up many a silent prayer, asking God to open
up the way so that I could reach my journey's end. So far my
prayers had been certainly answered.
I called at the Dubuque depot to inquire the time of the train to Sand Springs, when I met my Uncle George White. Reaching Sand Springs about dark, with a few cents in my pocket we walked three miles through the mud to my uncle's. Though crippled and very tired, I managed to not complain. Was received by my relatives with open arms, and I tried to be as happy as they seemed to be. I answered many questions about myself and home, and then sat down to the first square meal since leaving Lenhart's.
At Keokuk I dropped my father a line, informing him that I was all right and not to fret about me, and telling him where I was going. After spending a few days pleasantly in meeting relatives and old friends of my younger days, I began to look for something I could do so as to be independent of relatives.
Through the suggestion of my cousin, Nancy, I sought for and obtained a certificate to teach, and though late in the school year secured a school. I had grave forebodings about being qualified to
secure a certificate, but I carried my case to God, asking him to assist me, and my petition was granted. My prayerfulness was the result of my early training by a pious and devoted mother. When I received my certificate I could hardly realize but what I was dreaming.
When I made inquiry for a school I learned there was but one vacancy in the country. This one, I was informed was the "toughest school in the county," and I was advised to not attempt to teach it. I conc1uded to see the director, who thought I could not manage the school, but I said, "Give me the school, and I will try it." He tried to discourage me, but I repeated, "Let me try the school; I'll teach it." I was eulogized by my relatives for attempting to teach such a school.
I boarded with the director, Mr. William Tibbetts, who thought I should begin the school by getting a club, knocking down and
dragging out.
On my way to school the first morning I found a new leather strap, which I thought better than a club. I got along quite well till about Thursday of the first week, when I had to severely punish one of the large boys who had been prominent in disturbing former schools.
I was informed that the father of this boy was a large man and would possibly take the boy's part and give me a severe thrashing. I had occasion to go past the house of this man on my way to fulfill a previous engagement, and this man met me at the gate as I was passing, and as he came out of the gate I was fearful that he might be coming out to give me a severe beating, but when he opened the gate I saw a smile on his countenance, and he congratulated me in doing that which no other teacher had done, saying, "You have conquered my boy; you have done it completely; you have my explicit confidence and endorsement."
I had sought the Lord to help me out of this troublesome affair, and after it turned out as it did, I did not fail in telling him how thankful I was for the aid he had rendered me. From this time on I had an orderly school. The young man I had punished became a fast friend, and I do not know that I had an enemy there. The request was made that I teach the winter term, but I felt it wiser for me to attend school rather than to teach.
(This was to be continued in a future edition, but it couldn't be located at this time.)
SOURCE: Journal of History - Volume 9 (1916), pgs 87-96
[The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints]
2.) FURTHER INFORMATION:
1. Death Certificate #36222:
Born: Lawrence Co. O...
Residence: 906 W Maple, Independence, MO
Minister
Married: Emily White
Father: Wm A White Born in Vermont
Mother: Mary Burke
Informant: Ammon White, 3095 S Fuller, Independence, MO
Lot Owner: Ammon White
Inscription
White
Isaac N White
1840 - 1926
Emily His Wife
1848 - 1939
Family Members
Sponsored by Ancestry
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