Monday, July 14, 2014

Dallas Max Schneider Memories by Kristen Moh




Dallas Max Schneider
Memories of my Dad by Kristen Schneider Moh
Memorial Service 3-12-11
 
When I was growing up, I loved going to Jack in the Box with my dad. As we’d go thru the drive thru, he would delight in confusing the attendant by ordering outlandish foods like gofer loaf and avocado milkshakes. As he ordered these foods that were obviously not on the menu, our whole family tried to stifle uncontrolled giggles.
I don’t think my dad ever tired of this joke because he did it over and over again.    
 
Another memory I had was when I was 10. Our family went snowmobiling. My sister Paula and I, being inexperienced drivers, eventually crashed. The motor wouldn’t start. We tried pulling the snowmobile out of the bank of snow… but we were definitely stuck!  We called for help but no one answered..
 After an hour of waiting, it was obvious that no one was going to come to our aid. We decided to say a prayer. No sooner did we open our eyes, when off in the distance, we saw the answer to our prayer…..It was our dad! With one super heave he dislodged the snowmobile from the snow bank and got the motor to start. I couldn’t believe how strong my dad was!  To my child’s eye, he was like a super hero!
 
My dad continued to be a super dad his whole life.
About 10 years ago, I remember talking to my dad on the phone about some trouble I was having. I had hired a  technician to fix my piano, but after months of trying, he just couldn’t seem to get it right. I was beginning to lose all hope that my piano would ever get fixed.
           
To my surprise, a few hours after talking to my dad, he showed up on my doorstep all dressed up in a nice suit and tie.
I said, “Dad, I didn’t know you were coming today.”
He responded, “I’ve come to give you a father’s blessing”
I couldn’t believe he had traveled almost 2 hours to give me a blessing…… just .because I was upset about my piano. Most people would consider my worries over my piano a trivial matter, but my Dad knew this was important to me.
           
I don’t know how many times I heard him say to family or friends,
” Call me any time you need a priesthood blessing. I don’t care if it is 2AM,…..I will come.”
 My dad was the kind of man who was always there when needed.
           
I will always be grateful for a father who made me laugh and who was such an example of service.
 
I have faith that the resurrection is real and that I will see him again!

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Ditch Defenders by Dallas Max Schneider

Ditch Defenders by Dallas Max Schneider (Added to and edited by Bryonny Van Camp)

(Original info Provided by Dallas Max Schneider and added/edited by Bryonny Van Camp- I figured Grandpa Max wouldn't mind as he loved improving a good story).

There was a ditch from the mountain spring that Orval Dallas's Father, Frank William Schneider, has built to irrigate part of the farm on their 400 Acres in Burley Idaho.  This ditch was very important to the family, not only because it was their source of water and irrigation, but because their father had built it before he died.  Frank William dug this 30 ft cistern by hand because there were no utilities in the area at the time (an impressive feat for any man, and especially impressive while he suffered from tuberculosis).   He often would take Orval Dallas and Les, his sons, to the mouth of the spring and he would tell his boys to put their ears to the rock so they could hear the rushing water.  Side Note:  Dallas Max Schneider (son of Orval Dallas), at the age of 14, went to visit the old Idaho family farm and the ditch was still there, Max marveled at the strength of the grandfather, Frank William, he had never had the privilege of meeting in this life).
Life on a new farm was very hard, especially after their provider Frank William died and they were a long way from the help of their other relatives in Missouri, where they had moved from just a couple years before.  The little family was struggling and had 2 years of crop failure during this time.  Times were very tough and desperate for all the farmers in the area.

It soon came the the families attention that, someone up stream was diverting and siphoning off some of their water, however they didn't have any difinative proof.. yet.  Obviously this was extremely unacceptable and called for drastic measures to be undertaken as the family survival depended on this life giving water. 
Hattie Barnett Schneider, the widow of Frank William Schneider, was not to be messed with, she needed to be tough in this harsh frontier land and she was very concerned about protecting her water rights.   So one night Hattie, with her sons, Orval Dallas and Les, crept up to the ditch and lay there all night by the ditch with a loading 30-30 riffle waiting to see who the despicable person was that was taking their water.  At the dark of midnight under the pale moon, they saw outline of a figure approaching, and as he came closer they recognized their neighbor that had came with a shovel to steal the water. 
Fearless Hattie called the man by name and bellowed: "This is the widow Schneider.  Don't steal my water!" 
The neighbor, surely not afraid of a single women, said "Who's going to stop me?" 
She said "This gun and my boys" and to back up the claim, the sound of a riffle being cocked and then a single shot being fired rang out in the silent evening and it was all the proof that the neighbor needed that now was not the time to start a fight.
The neighbor said, "Now.. don't do anything rash!"  as he turned around and ran back to his house like a frightened coward.
They had to take him to court to make him stop permanently, but that incident showed that Hattie Barnett Schneider and her family was not one to be trifled with.

Horsing Around by Dallas Max Schneider

Orval Dallas Horsing Around by Dallas Max Schneider and added to by Bryonny Van Camp

(Original info Provided by Dallas Max Schneider and added/edited by Bryonny Van Camp- I figured Grandpa Max wouldn't mind as he loved improving a good story).

Orval Dallas Schneider was always on the look out for a good deal.  During one child/teenhood summer in Burley Idaho he made an agreement with a farmer to plow the farmers fields all summer long in return for a horse.  This would have been ideal situation for young Dallas, as he always had a dream in his heart that he would someday be a cowboy with his own ranch, and you can't very well be a cowboy with out a trusty horse.  Dallas really liked this particular horse because it was great jumper-because really what other qualifications would you be concerned with as a young boy.

After many long, hard, bistering hot days under the scorching Idaho sun, the work of the summer finally came to a conclusion and Dallas excitedly came to collect his well earned payment. 

However fate was not on his side that day when he asked for his payment, the farmer flattly refused to give him the horse as they had previously agreed.  Perhaps he underestimated the hard work ethic of the boy when the original deal was made and thought he would quit before the job was finished or it was just very rough in the the frontiers of Idaho and people went back on their word frequently and thought Dallas had no way of forcing a collection.  Whatever the case may be, the shear injustice must have been a absolutely crushing blow to Dallas; that had worked his hardesst all summer with now nothing to show for it.

He quickly ran home and told his mother, Hattie Barnett Schneider Austin, and stepfather, Hirum Austin, what had happened.  Hirum was a good man and took very seriously his fatherly duties.  He stepped in and went to the farmer and "made him give up the horse".  How he made him give up the horse will remain a mystery, but it would have been interesting to be a fly on that barn wall to hear that battle of words and wit.

Dallas was thrilled to have this horse as his own and he went everywhere in town by horseback.  Although he did not realized the dream of being a cowboy with his own ranch (instead he became an owner of a drycleaning business in Los Angeles), he turned out to be an excellent horseman and never forgot his first horse.

Orval Dallas Champion of the Weak by Dallas Max Schneider

Orval Dallas Champion of the Weak by Dallas Max Schneider
 
Orval Dallas had friends in Burley, both girls and boys. They associated as a group rather than dating one another. Among that group was a shy girl who had terribly bucked teeth and one of the boys liked to make fun of her. He was a bully type of boy who ridiculed anyone who had abnormalities about themselves. 

One evening this heartless boy was so derisive and jeering of this poor girls teeth that she started to cry. Most of the boys were embarrassed but said nothing. Then from the crowd, up stepped, bold, brave, Orval Dallas to confront this calloused boy. The boy was large and ugly himself. Orval said, "You make fun of everyone, don't you?"

"What if! do? Who is going to stop me?"

"I guess you would make jokes about my sister?"

"If she had funny teeth, you bet I would," and he gave Orval a shove.  The gauntlet had been thrown down and a challenge made. Orval Dallas had a mercurial temper that was well backed up with a fighting courage that was nothing short of heroic. He never looked for a fight but when pushed-there he was-pugnacious, like a lion-unafraid and equal to the task.

The taller, bigger boy rushed at him and young Orval stepped to one side and hit him hard in the stomach-just below the solar plexus. It doubled his attacker up so he could not defend himself and Orval hit him at his pleasure until he knocked him down. The mocking boy laid on the floor with a hand over his bloody mouth and said, "I quit," and that was

Orval Dallas's baptism of fighting with someone other than his bigger brother Les.

Frank William "Willy" Schneider



Frank William Schneider

Frank William Schneider was the son for Frank Xavier (or Zavier) Schneider and Anna Josephina Noerthmann, and was Born on the July 21, 1876 in West Plains Howell County Missouri and died on October 6th 1913 in Burley, Cassia County, Idaho.  Frank married in West Plans on September 24th 1898 to Hattie Barnett, the daughter of James Dallas Barnett and Tennessee Gunter.  Hattie Barnett was born January 28, 1881 in West Plains and died June 16, 1955 in Santa Ana, Orange California.  After the death of Frank, Hattie remarried and had one child by a second husband Hyrum Clarence Austin.--By Brock Guernsey

Memories of Frank William by Dallas Max Schneider

He (Frank William, also known to friends and family as Willy) came from a large family and was in the middle.  His father (Frank Xaiver Schneider) was a civil war veteran.  We know Willy could add and subtract, since he ran a little store later, but not much else about his childhood.  In the winter he also worked as a traveling salesman.  He was tall about 6'4".  He picked up tuberculosis or "consumption", so the doctor told him to move to a dryer climate. 
He went to Burley Idaho and bought 400 aces for farmland, then built a house on it.  There were no utilities, so he dug a trench from a spring in the mountains for irrigation.  Orval Dallas, his son, was 6 years old when they moved from Missouri.
He would take his sons,Orval Dallas and Les, to the mouth of the spring and he would tell the boys to put their ears to the rock so they could hear the rushing water.  He told them that some day he would harness electricity to take care of all of Burley.
He felt better in Idaho, but slowly failed from the tuberculosis.  He died at age 37.  The family was so badly frighten that they all ran outside-except Dallas.
Max (Dallas Max Schneider-son of Orval Dallas and grandson of Frank William) never saw this grandfather but always felt close to him.  He had a dream at one time that Dallas and Willy came to Grande Cleaners (Dallas Max's Dry Cleaning Business) and the looked just alike.
Relatives told Max that Willy was the kindest man that ever lived.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

A little about Maren Larsen


Excerpt from A Sketch of the Life of Hansine Larsen Anderson
by her daughter, Lillie Anderson Zilles

Niels mother, Maren Larsen lived in Hyrum. She had married again, to a man by the name of Jensen, who was several years older than she. He was her third husband. Maren was an immaculate housekeeper. She kept her stove and old brass and iron kettles polished until you could see them shine from the road if the door happened to be open.

Hans and Maren Larsen


Excerpt from A Sketch of the Life of Hansine Larsen Anderson
by her daughter, Lillie Anderson Zilles
(These excerpts tell us a little about the early life of Hans and Maren Larsen and the process of their immigration from Denmark to America in 1876.  Our direct ancestor Niels Larsen (brother of Hansine Larsen) was 8 years old at the time of their immigration.
Hansine Larsen Anderson was born the 23rd of August 1866, in Aesentrop, Holsbeck County Denmark; the seventh child of eight children. The two oldest children, Jacob and Anna were from a former marriage. The six children of this marriage were Christian, Christena, Hanna, Jens, Hansine, and Niels.
At the age of eleven she immigrated to America. Her father and oldest full brother died in Denmark. Christina was 17 years old at the time of his death.

The oldest half-brother, Jacob, was serving in the army of his native land when the rest of the family left. He came to the United States later, but not to Utah.
Hansine’s father was a butcher by trade. His home was one long building which housed the family on one end. The meat shop and slaughtering part were in the center and the livestock quarters on the other end. Everything was kept clean and spotless. After landing in the United States of America, her mother and six children came to Utah. They made their home in Hyrum, Utah.

Larsen Family Travels from Denmark by Christena A. Larsen


Larsen Family travels from Demark to America
Excerpts from the personal history of Christena A. Larsen Larsen found on Family Search.org
(These excerpts tell us how the Larsen's were introduced to the Latter Day Saint Church and the process of their immigration from Denmark to America in 1876.  Our direct ancestor Niels Larsen (brother of Christena Larsen) was 8 years old at the time of their conversion and immigation.
I was born on March 11, 1857, at Skalberg Odense, Denmark. I lived there until I was seven years old at which time my parents moved to Shallen, where I lived until I was fourteen years old. At the age of fourteen, as was the custom, I found employment in the home of a well to do farmer.
When I was sixteen years old my father died, leaving my mother a widow with seven children.
My mother was a great Bible student, but did not belong to any church. She visited around from one church to another but felt very dissatisfied. About this time the Mormon missionaries came into our vicinity and started to spread Mormonism. All of my friends and acquaintances seemed very opposed to the teachings of the missionaries. However, my mother, being very interested in anything pertaining to the Bible and always searching for something which would better satisfy her in a religious line, was interested in their message.
Disregarding the taunts and laughs of my friends, I went with my mother to one of the Mormon Meetings. As we entered the saints were singing and their song seemed to penetrate my very soul, and I felt that I belonged with these people. I couldn’t see why it was that people were saying they were wicked.
A few days after we had heard the message my mother had a dream in which she saw one of the missionaries and heard him say, “You have heard the truth, now accept it.”
My mother and I were baptized on the 19th day of April, 1876. We had to be very quiet about accepting the gospel. When I was baptized I had to wait until everyone had gone to bed and everything was quiet, then I threw the clothes that I was going to be baptized in out of the window and crept very quietly down the stairs and out of the court. I walked to my mother’s home where the missionaries were waiting to baptize us.
After we were baptized mother walked about halfway back home with me. After she left me, I had about a mile to go. All the way back I could hear something flying around me, making a terrible hissing sound. When I got to the gates of the court, they rattled and shook, making a terrible noise; this frightened me because I thought the dog would hear the noise and wake up the people in the house. However, I opened up the gates and the dog was lying peacefully in his kennel and did not even hear me enter. I was greatly amazed to think that I could hear all this noise and confusion and yet the dog, who was always a very good watch, dog, could be sleeping so peacefully, and a great fear entered my heart, but I seemed to hear a voice say to keep right on going, that this spirit had no power over me. I entered my room without any further trouble.
The next morning while I was in the garden, my mother came to see me. I told her of my experience. She sad to be very careful not to speak of it to anyone else, but that she had also heard the noise and had seen the evil spirits flying around us. She said that immediately after we had left the missionaries, she could see a form of different shapes and colors flying around us, hissing and spitting angrily. My mother said that she felt sure that it was the evil spirits and that they were angry because we had joined the church.
As soon as possible after this my mother sold all of her things and we made preparations to leave for Zion. My employer was so angry when he heard that I was leaving that he kept my wages for three months.
We left Denmark in June, 1876. We stopped in Liverpool, England to rest for a few days before starting on our voyage across the ocean. We traveled second class with the other immigrants. When we arrived in New York, I was so bewildered; I can scarcely remember what happened. However, I know that as soon as we were allowed to, we came on to Utah with other converts.
In Ogden we were met by elders of the church, who took us in their wagons to Mantua, where we took up our new life among converts who were mostly of our own nationality. Among the elders who met us at Ogden was Lars A. Larsen and we travelled in his wagon, arriving at Mantua July 23, 1876.

Niels J Larsen by Delores Larsen Allen

Niels J. Larsen
Excerpts from the Personal History of Delores Larsen Allen
(This was all hand written by Delores L. Allen in a red notebook in the late 1970's or 1980)

 
I, Delores Larsen Allen, like Nephi of old, was born of goodly parents Oct. 13, 1903 in Hyrum, Utah, the sixth child in a family of nine children.

My father Niels J. Larsen was born May 6, 1868 in Skuerup Holbark, Denmark, son of Hans Larsen and Maren Johansen. He came to America when eight years old, with his widowed mother and six brothers and sisters.
 
Father was a tall thin man with the bluest, sparkling, bright eyes I ever saw. He was a hard working man. On an eighty acre dry farm he walked behind a plow in the spring and a harrow in the fall, which amounted to several miles a day, with sore feet and corns on his toes.

He lived by the Golden Rule and Ten Commandments. He believed in giving an honest day's work for an honest day's pay, and that our word should be as good as our bond. I never knew him to be unkind or do an unjust act.

He was kind to his animals. Always before retiring he visited the barn and threw down a few forks full of hay to the horses and cows and made sure they were alright for the night.

He taught us the value of work, said it was better to wear out than rust out.

He said we should always be yourself and never try to be someone else.

He had a dry sense of wit and liked to tease grandma (his wife).

Sometimes he would call, "Ma,ma," so excited like something really important had happened. When mother came running to see what was wrong he'd grin and slowly and quietly say, "I love you." She would shake her head and say, "You old fool" Then he'd laugh and get a big kick out of it.

We didn't have much of this world's goods, but we had a roof over our head, never went hungry and had enough clothes to keep us warm in the winter. Best of all we had parents who cared and gave us the help and security we needed. They were truly an anchor in our home.

Matilda "Tilde" Larsen by Delores Larsen Allen


 
 
Matilda Frederiksen Larsen
Excerpts from the Personal History of Delores Larsen Allen (her Daughter)

(This was all hand written by Delores L. Allen in a red notebook in the late 1970's or 1980)

My mother Pauline Emilia Matilda Fredericksen was born April 23, 1872, Sindal Denmark, daughter of Christain Fredricksen and Flora Spaanheden. Mother at the age of thirteen, and her sister May, age eleven, left their mother and home in Denmark June 13, 1885 and came to America with the Mormon missionaries after being baptized May 18, 1885. They arrived in Ogden, Utah July 8, 1885. She and my father Niels were married in the Logan temple, Oct. 1, 1890.

I shall write briefly of my parents -- grandma and grandpa Larsen as they were called, or Tildie and Nelse to the neighbors. 

Mother was a shy little lady, short and stocky in build. She didn't have much to say while in church but if you we talking to her alone she could really preach you a sermon. And she had many favorite scriptures/sayings she liked to quote -- such as:

"Stay close to the Lord so he will be there when you need Him."

"Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing."

"The Lord loves a cheerful giver."

"I the Lord am bound when you do what I say, but when you do not what I say you have no promise."

"Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven."

"Endure to the end."

"A chapter of scriptures a day keeps Satan away."

After father died and she was alone she made her home here with us for seven years when she quietly passed away after being ill for only two days. She left me the most prized possession, her testimony of the gospel.  She said she knew the gospel was true the first time she heard the missionaries preach in the building near their home in Denmark. And that our Heavenly Father was her dearest friend, especially when she and he younger sister came to this country at the age of eleven and thirteen. They couldn't speak English, had no friends nor relatives and were strangers to everyone.

That was why she was kind and friendly, all the rest of her life, to new people when they moved to our neighborhood. She took food, quilts and clothing to the needy and never let anyone know about it. She was indeed an angel of mercy, always helping someone when they needed help most.

We didn't have much of this world's goods, but we had a roof over our head, never went hungry and had enough clothes to keep us warm in the winter. Best of all we had parents who cared and gave us the help and security we needed. They were truly an anchor in our home.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

The Schneider Boys move to California-by Dallas Max Schneider

Schneider Boys move to California
Excerpt from Remembrances of Orval Dallas Schneider, My Father

By His Son Dallas Max Schneider 

Time passed and Uncle Les had moved to California and had gone into the restaurant business. He did very well in his chosen location. It was what was called a street car dinner-just an old streetcar parked on his acre lot and turned into a dinner-restaurant. The location was in Hollywood, right across the street from MGM movie studios. He knew the restaurant business very well and he flourished in it.


Orval did not stay long in Burley. With 5 friends they started for California to seek their fortunes. The car they drove kept breaking down and it drained them of all cash. An exasperated Orval Dallas finally made the break from this endless expense and he and another man named Dane, started hitchhiking.

 They made it as far as Las Vegas and beyond to a place in the desert called the corduroy road. The corduroy road was nothing more than two by fours, placed on edge over this sandy stretch of road to Los Angeles. No car would stop to offer them a ride so Orval put his suitcase in the middle of the road and waited until the next car came and had to stop. It was a new 1919 model T sedan with a canvas top. When the car stopped, Orval went to the driver and said, "Where are you going?"

It was an innocent enough question and when he answered, "To Los Angeles."

Orval said, "So are we," and Dane and Orval climbed into the back seat of the car as if they had been cordially invited.   The driver was a nice man who accepted them and that is how Orval and Dane made it to California.

Orval Dallas Schneider The Early Years-by Dallas Max Schneider


Orval Dallas Schneider-The Early Years
Excerpt from Remembrances of Orval Dallas Schneider, My Father

By His Son Dallas Max Schneider 

He was my father and l owe him reverence for that. I also honor him, not only for my life but the quality of life that he wanted for his children. Everything he did not have as a child and young adult was given to his children, as he labored mightily to provide.

Orval Dallas was born in a small town of southwest Missouri, called, West Plains, The date of his birth was May 24, 1902. His father, my grandfather was also born there. Grandfather, Frank William Schneider died when he was 38 years old and I never saw or knew him.

Orval Dallas grew up without the wisdom and guidance of his father. Orval Dallas was 9 years old when grandfather Schneider passed away leaving his wife (Hattie Barnett Schneider) with 5 small children to raise on a failing dry farm in Burley, Idaho.

The family had moved to Idaho because Frank William felt better physically, there in the dry, arid west. In Missouri, it was humid and hot in the summer and he had a hard time breathing that wet, heated, heavy air. He probably had tuberculosis but they called it consumption in those days.

My father had a scant memory of his childhood days but he told me that he started smoking cigars at age 7 because everyone else did. I asked him, "didn't your parents object?"

 "Yes they did but we all snuck around them and smoked in secret. All of the men smoked, except my dad. He did not smoke. We had plenty of bad examples around us."

Heavenly Education by Dallas Max Schneider

 
 
Heavenly Education

Excerpt from Remembrances of Orval Dallas Schneider, My Father

By His Son Dallas Max Schneider 
 

My mother, Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, use to say to me, "Oh I wish your dad had some education. He is plenty smart enough."

After Orval Dallas had passed from this life, I had the most wonderful dream about him. He came walking into the dry-cleaning plant with his father, my grandfather, Frank William Schneider. They looked like twins but I knew that it was my grandfather. He said nothing but smiled at me.

I spoke to my father, who had a large roll of individual sheets of paper rolled up under his arm, "Where have you been dad?" He replied, "I have been going to school at BYU and I have come to show you some of my work." Then he proceeded to lay the sheets out on the counter. The work he was showing me looked like some sort of mechanical drawing and on the first page, written in blue pencil was the numbers 78%.

I asked, "What is that?"

"That is my grade," and we turned a few more pages and there was some writing in the same blue pencil.

"What is that?"

"It is the teachers remarks and it say's, thanks for improving 20%."

At that point they both faded away and the pleasant dream was over. I lay in bed musing over this scene I had experienced and luxuriated in its deliciousness for some time. That's what heaven must be like, perfect teaching conditions and endless energy. I would speculate that he can read real well now.

Oravl Dallas had his faults but his virtues shined in gleaming display, far above his flaws.  I hope these stories put flesh and bones on your grandfather and you can enjoy the memory of him as I do.--His son Dallas Max Schneider

Have you ever been Hungry?-by Dallas Max Schneider


Have you ever been hungry?

Excerpt from Remembrances of Orval Dallas Schneider, My Father

By His Son Dallas Max Schneider 


(My Father) did not go to Church regularly but saw to it that his children did. His lack of spirituality did not dim the Christ like generosity that flowed from him so naturally.

It was almost a daily affair that some derelict would come into his business and ask for money so he could eat. Dallas would drop everything and take desolate stranger to the restaurant next door and see that destitute man was fed anything he wanted and then he told the restaurant owner to fix him a sandwich to take with him and paid for it all with a 20 dollar bill and told the owner that when the beggar was done eating to give him the change and Orval Dallas would leave. 

This happened many times and one day, young Dallas Max, who had never missed a meal in his life, chided his father for this gullible generosity. "Why do you do that? The tramp will only take the change and go buy liquor with it."

Orval Dallas replied, "Have you ever been hungry? I have and it hurts!"

And young Dallas Max learned a great lesson. It changed and humbled him as he realized he had been taught something of tremendous value that could not be learned in the great universities of the land-kindness and non-judgmental generosity.

Sticking Plaster Plastic Surgery-By Dallas Max Schneider

Sticking Plaster Plastic Surgery
Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider 
All of the Larsen family helped milk the cows. Rose and her sisters washed the milk buckets and cans clean every day. One day she slipped and fell on the protruding socket that held the pails handle. It cut like a knife through her lower lip and slashed it open from the upper lip to the chin. It hung in two separate pieces, bleeding profusely.

Grandfather hurriedly hitched up his horses and drove as fast as he could to Logan, the only place there was a doctor. Grandmother held Rose in her arms with a towel place on her torn lip. The doctor was not in his office and unavailable, so they went to Grandfather's sister's home, known to us as, "Aunt Steeny." Aunt Steeny, (her real name was Hansine Larsen Anderson) was skilled in many medical things and when she had stopped the bleeding of Rosabelle's terrible wound she had Grandfather go to the store and buy some sticking plaster.

She mixed the plaster together to the thickness she desired and then carefully pulled the severed lip together and placed the sticking plaster over the wound and held it there until it became solid and unyielding. They left this mold on Rose's lip for some time and when it was removed it had healed beautifully, leaving only a thin red line that eventually went away leaving no scar. Had the doctor been available and had attended Rose, he would have put several stitches in her lip and the disfigurement of this beautiful child would have been everlasting ugliness.

When she would tell us about her cut lip, she would have to show us children the almost invisible white line that was hard to see. It went from the top of her lip to her chin. It was a vicious severing. I have no idea what sticking plaster was but it was Aunt Steeny's primitive form of plastic surgery and it worked a miracle upon our Mother.

Snakes near the Spring-by Dallas Max Schneider

Snakes near the Spring
Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider 

The job she hated and feared the most was to be with her father when he was plowing. There was a little spring with a few willow trees, bushes and a limited amount of grass growing around the life giving water and Grandpa would send my mother (about age 10) down to that spring to fill his water can that he drank from. Little Rose would hesitate to go down there because there were water snakes lurking in those bushes and trees. They were harmless but still dreadful snakes to a child.

Her father would call out as he made his plowing rounds, "Are you going to let your poor old father choke to death on dust because he can't have a drink of water?"  She would gird up her courage and hurriedly fill his water can and bring it back to him and he would give her high praise for her daring fortitude but the words of praise did not work and she was always frightened.

One day after her father pleaded for his water, she went and as she dipped the can into the cool water a snake slithered out of the sparse grass and made a hissing sound at her. The harmless snake so frightened her that she fainted and when Grandfather came around he wondered where his little girl had gone and he got off of his plow and rushed to the spring to find his Rosabelle lying on the ground unconscious. He gently cradled her in his arms she soon opened her eyes and clung to her father, shivering with fright. He never made her go for water again. 

Rose's Farm Life by Dallas Max Schneider



Rose's Farm Life
Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider
 
Rose was raised on a farm and hated that kind of a life because she had to wear bib overalls like a boy and work like a man. It was degrading to a sensitive young girl but a necessity. One of her jobs was to tromp hay in the summer. What that meant was that as the men pitched the semi dry clumps of hay onto the wagon she had to walk over every foot of that fluffy fodder and compact it with her weight.
 
It was tiresome, endless work of lifting her legs high out of the yielding long stemmed alfalfa to make each step count in crushing it down. It allowed more hay to be put on the wagon and made it easier to unload into the barn or a haystack outside. A well-tromped wagon would sometimes be 10 feet high from the base of the wagon to the top of the load. The wagon was always moving so she had to be careful and not lose her balance as the wagon lurched over the hayfield. The men would pitch the hay as high as they could reach and that determined the size of the burden that could be hauled into the barnyard and stored for the winter-feeding of the cattle. It was a hot, dusty, and dirty job for a young girl but everyone worked hard on the Larsen farm, men women and children. It was expected of them.

The Grandest Grandparents-By Dallas Max Schneider


 
 
The Grandest Granparents
Excerpt from Remembrances of Rosabelle Larsen Schneider, My Mother

By Her Son Dallas Max Schneider



Grandpa and Grandma Larsen's (Niels and Matilda Larsen) home was a cozy place surrounded with happiness and plenty of the necessities of life. No money, mind you, just the things that were necessary. Never a want for food. Grandfather Larsen's mother lived in Logan. Her first husband had died and she had remarried and went by the name of Maren Jensen.

Sometimes on a summery Saturday afternoon Grandpa Larsen would hitch up his horses to the buggy and load his family into that wonderful conveyance and drive to see his mother. It took about 90 minutes to make that trip one way. The children thought it was just about the greatest adventure of their lives to make this trip and Grandpa saw to it that there was excitement. Whenever he came to a stream or river he never used the bridge but would fearlessly plunge the horses, buggy and all into the swirling flood to the delightful screams of joy of the children and emerge to the opposite bank, dripping wet. They were dry but the buggy drenched.

Grandma Larsen was a frightened fearful little person and it would always terrify her when Grandpa would say, "It's time to dust the buggy off and cool the horses down."  One time she could not stand the strain he was inflicting upon her and with a baby under each arm she jumped out of the buggy at the rivers edge. Grandfather's fun came to an end after that display of fear and to the disappointment of the children he used the bridges from that moment on. 

My Mother remembers the very last time they went to see their grandmother. They had been there for the afternoon and the day was growing short. All were seated in the buggy and about to depart for home. Grandmother Jensen followed them out to the buggy and said to her son Niels, "Come again soon but don't bring the children."  My grand parents were wounded by that rather callused, insensitive remark and never went again to visit his mother.

Grandparents in that day had a different feeling for their grand children than now. We were blessed to have had loving grandparents who were unlike the normal ones that would ignore their grandchildren. Every birthday I received a book and a silver dollar and I never appreciated it until the book and the silver dollar stopped coming when I was 18. Then I began to treasure the sacrifice they had made to show their love for me. They emerged in my child like mind as great heroes and heroines that were truly worthy of our respect and awe. In my mind there were no one like my grandparents in every virtue of human kind.

 

Annie Hicks Free
For THEY HAD FAITH LESSON BOOKLET (December)
by Lenore M. Ruesch (a great granddaughter)
As an example of great faith, "Grandma Free" has always appealed to me as a very special, worthy person.  She was a handcart pioneer, and she met many tests of faith throughout her life.  To her dying day, at the age of 89, she was strong in faith, never wavering, "enduring to the end."
Her life has always been an inspiration to me.  I have cherished the memory of who was so strong in her convictions; and I am proud that I knew her well when I was young.  Her strength has been a guide to me especially when my own faith has not been as strong as it is now.  I have told my children so many stories about Grandma Free that they too revere her memory.
My daughter a talented artist, has made a pencil portrait of her from the only snapshot  I have of Grandma Free, and guests in our home are introduced to "grandma" via this framed artistic reproduction.  Of all my pioneer ancestors, she stands out above all the rest for her faithfulness.
My mother Gertrude Tan Rock McFarlane. wrote the following comments about her grandmother: "When I was a small child, I remember Grandma Free sewing a great deal and ladies coming to her home to be fitted.  At that time I didn't realize she was doing it to make her living, but later I did.  I knew that while she sewed I could sit beside her and she would tell me stories,, recite poetry, or tell me her own life's story.  She told me much about the Gospel and how she knew for herself that it was true, and then instructed me how I could find out for myself.  As I look back now I realize that she was very sorry for me when Winnie (Gertrude's older sister by 2 years) died, because she told me many times that Winnie was our 'binding link' to Heaven and that I would see her again.  I dearly loved to visit with Grandma and to her dying day I never missed going over there each time I went down home.
In the Old Farmers Ward Relief Society Grandma was secretary for many years and on those meeting days I waited at school and walked home with her.  She had a beautiful voice and she would sing familiar songs.  She was tall and slim and had a dignified walk.  As we came home one afternoon I was embarrassed when the Newel boys called out after her, 'There goes Mrs. Free--Walking on her dignity!' When I told her to go to their mother and tell her to punish them, she said, 'Let's rise above it.'
At her knee I learned much about the Gospel and I am thankful to her for her wonderful teaching.   Many times when she was having Sunday morning sacred hour I went to join her.  She played the organ very well and sang many songs.
Mother (Gertrude Rock McFarlane) tells in a written message which is addressed "To All my Children" the influence of her grandmother's faith on her own life.  She says:
"I was born of honorable and upright parents and through them was born under the true and everlasting covenant.  Form them and Grandma Free I was first taught 'that the Gospel was true', that it was the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that our Prophet Joseph had restored to the earth'.  When I was just a tiny tot I can remember Grandma telling me to get 'the stool' that I always sat on and she would tell me about her life  I seems that I can almost hear her now was she would say, and I quote, 'My father was a sea Captain and he would go away for a very long time.  I never saw him until I was four years old and then when I did see him I was afraid of him, because I thought he was a black man.' (Her mother had told her that he was a black man when she kept asking if her father was like different men she saw on the street.)  He was of very dark complexion and had a heavy beard and mustache which he always wore.
When we ate our dinner mother asked him how he enjoyed it, and this is what he said "Thank the Lord for this meal although it was but small, I could east some more if I had some more, but thank the Lord for all.' And mother said 'damn the man'.
My mother was a Wenlock; her uncle was the Earl of Wenlock.  Father went away again and Mother took me with her to the 'work house' where she earned her living.  It was there I learned to knit as I sat on a stool by Mother's side.  My life was uneventful until I heard two missionaries preaching the gospel in the streets of London.  I loved it the first time I hear it; it seemed so quiet and peaceful.  I embraced the Gospel and was baptized on January 17th, 1855 in the White chapel Branch in London, England...Shortly after my baptism and before I was confirmed my relatives sent me a terrible book against the Mormons, marking it in many places for me to read....
When I heard Grandma's testimony I knew she told the truth and I had faith in her.  She taught me that the Lord hears and answered prayers.  She always said 'the Lord is close by and will protect  you in time of danger.'
She always held a sacred hour in her home on Sunday and we Grandchildren were always welcome.  She dressed up in her best dress and then put on a white apron, then would go to her organ and play and sign religious songs.  Then she read the scriptures.  Those were wonderful experiences to us as a child and it was then I learned to love and read the Bible."
 
Grandma Free influenced my faith too.  When I was a child I remember visiting Grandma Free often.  She always greeted us with a smile and often would tell us pioneer stories and sign with us as she played her little "foot pedal" organ.  Especially do I remember her singing the old pioneer song, whose words still echo in my memory:
"For some must push and some must pull
As we go marching up the hill,
And merrily on the way we go
Until we reach the Valley- O"
Grandma Free truly was a person of much faith even as a child she believed strongly that God would protect her.  Then she first came in the  contact with the Gospel she "loved it", and was promptly called upon to prove her faith.  Her relatives all tried to talk her out of joining the Church.  Her own story tells of this.  A marvelous manifestation came to her because of her faith in God.  She received a direct answer to prayer and she never doubted after that.  In later life when others pointed the failings of even some of those high in the Church, she didn't let that affect her faith.  She said, "People and principles!  People sometimes change, but principles never do."
Once she had joined the Church, she gave it a full lifetime devotion.  She proved her faith when she set out alone, without a relative or friend, to come to Utah from her beloved England.  She broke up with a young man she had planned to marry because he didn't approve of her joining the Church.  She was among those sturdy folks, who lacking funds for wagons, pushed handcarts all across the plains.  She belonged to the ill-fated Edward Martin Company which was the last to reach Utah in 1856.  After a rescue group  to those who still survived (out of 575 persons who started out 135 died en-route) she and the other survivors arrived in Salt Lake City on November 30th 1856.
She tells in her brief writings how she, along with others, almost froze to death on the journey. She claimed her life was saved only because a women chided her into getting some water, asking her if she was going to shirk her responsibility and let "an old women get it".  Even that experience didn't diminish her faith.
When she reached Deseret, alone and friendless, she was given a job at 75 cents a week.  She worked at that until she married my great-grandfather, Absalom Pennington Free, a patriarch of the Church and a member of Brigham Young's second company, which arrived in Utah in 1848.  He had children older than she was.  One daughter, Emeline, was the wife of Brigham Young; and two daughters married Daniel H Wells (Louisa and Hannah).  Grandfather Free was almost 61 years and Grandma Free was just 20 when they were married.
Once again her faith was tested when he had been married only a short time.  The young man who had been her sweetheart in England came across the ocean and over the plains to tell her that now he too, had joined the Church and they could be married.  When she told him she was married, both were sad.  Grandma would not even consider a divorce.  She had given her vow.  She told him to go away.  She still loved him; so the decision was hard; but once again her faith in the Church guided her in her actions.  Her vow, to her, meant what it said and could not be broken.  She had faith that all principles of the Gospel with right and she had made a decision when she was baptized to follow all of them.
Grandma Free had a hard life.  As a child, she worked at the London Work Shop at the side of her mother.  She was poor all her life, suffering  privation such as all pioneers suffered, and the extra suffering that was typical of hand-cart pioneers.  She was a polygamist wife (one of three living at the time), and was left a widow at the age of 40 with 7 children to provide for and only a small farm as her share of her husband's property.  She had to sew for a living.  Yet when wealth and power and social prestige were offered her, she proved her faith once again and rejected all those things in order that she could live in Zion, be amongst the Saints, free to practice her religion as she believed it, and to raise her children in the church.
Her mother was a Wenlock and her uncle was the earl of Wenlock.  Her mother had been disinherited by the family because she married a sea captain.  Proudly and defiantly she went to work in a work shop rather than ask her family for help when her husband was away to sea for years at a time and their money was gone.
However her brother, Earl of Wenlock, died without issue and Grandma Free received official word that she had inherited  the family estates, title and wealth, but she must come to England to claim them.  According to English la, it was also necessary that she live in England.  She would have the title of Lady, English equaivalent of European Countess.  Had she been a male, she would have been an Earl.
Grandma Free surely must have been tempted to accept this wonderful offer of wealth  and power, but she made her decision to stay in Utah and leave her estate unclaimed.  Even after she became a widow and had to sew for a living, she still did not claim her inheritance.  She was proud of her family connections in a way.  She named one of her sons Wenlock.  I have heard my mother say that Grandma Free often said, "When, oh when, will I ever  be the great lady I'm supposed to be?"
To me she was a great lady, one of the greatest I have ever been privileged to know.  Her faith made her great.