Alfred Smurthwaite and Margaret Ellen Brown
By Margaret Smurthwaite Heywood
Dedicated to the Memory
of
Mary Smurthwaite Smith
Mary, for many years, extended her loving care and devotion to her parents. She, it was, who unfailingly recorded the bits of history they remembered. While visiting with them, she would take a few notes; then on her return home would promptly type up the random fragments and the interesting details.
Mary, it was, who responded to the insistent urge to write their stories “that Dad and Mother might never be forgotten.” She never seemed to tire of collecting their memoirs or recording their current deeds and actions.
Finally she sent the fruits of her ceaseless efforts—her whole, priceless conglomeration to her sister Margaret, saying, “See is you can make something out of this. I can’t. I simply cant!”
THANKS TO MARY, I now have the stories completed, January 1980.
Margaret S. Heywood.
The Little Piano of Cherry Wood
When I was but a little one,
In memory I now recall,
The piano—my star and sun,
Stood there against the parlor wall.
When being played by one with skill
I sheltered by its side.
As the music rang, my soul did thrill
Just to listen and dream with pride.
At length when the others had gone away,
The “piano chair” invited me.
Its slender beauty seemed to say
“Sit here and play and be free.”
Then in an artistic way
I fixed my hands upon each key
And melody now sad, now gay
Freely the music came to me.
St. Cecilia framed in gold and green
Above at the organ played.
A halo crowned this artist queen
In her royal robes arrayed.
Infant cherubim, Heaven sent,
Dropped roses from above
And sang to her music reverent.
St. Cecilia smiled her love.
In that joyous company
How the hours quickly flew.
Just how much I loved its melody
No one ever really knew.
My little piano of cherry wood,
With its bronze angels, carvings and art
Satisfied me as no other one could.
No other so tenderly touched my heart.
Mary S. Smith
July 1958
A TRIBUTE TO MY HUSBAND
ANDREW K. SMITH
Andrew was an exceptional man, endowed with power, influence and strong characteristics. He had a great spirit; he loved the Lord and knew how to cooperate with Him; and served Him all the days of his life.
He was a teacher and shared unselfishly his acquired knowledge with others. He had a burning testimony and was valiant in expressing it whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He was a student, particularly of the gospel, a lover of books, which he marked with red and blue, commentary notes on the borders of the pages. He always carried small note papers, yellow and white, which were found in all his pockets and stuffed in envelopes bearing the labels “humor, poetry, genealogy, accounts, miscellaneous, etc.”
His talents were many. He was a gifted writer and a poet in the true sense. He was “handy” in making and fixing things around the house. He was a gardner and believed in producing. He loved music and his soul vibrated to the rhythm of it. He was meticulous and orderly in everything he did.
No man could have suffered more courageously the ills of the flesh than he. His life was an example of integrity, loyalty, humility, devotion to home and family. He loved children and was a kindly and considerate father. Loyalty to his friends, to the State in which he was born a “native son,” to the Church which he loved, and to the Country that gave him freedom were among his marked characteristics.
I respect him, appreciate him, and love him.
Mary H. Smith
Charles Albert Smurthwaite was largely responsible for others of his family and friends eventually joining the church and emigrating to Utah. The following letter to his niece Grace Jefferson (his brother Alfred’s daughter) written in 1926 is an example of his continuous concern for the welfare of his people.
2720 Adams Ave,
June 1, 1926
Dear Grace:
June first!
The first of the month of brides.
The brides have visions
The would-be brides, dreams.
Day-dreaming is fine.
But we have to wake to the realities.
Sorry mother and dad didn’t give their consent,
But probably they know best.
Age looks at life differently than youth.
That’s natural.
So is the outlook of youth.
Your uncle Charlie Smurthwaite left home not yet 21, went away 6000 miles from his home, to live among a people despised, and worse.
The only member of the family to leave Britain’s shores within the memory of the family, Except soldiers!
And then such a going.
He had never been away from home.
He loved his family dearly.
No son ever loved mother, father, brothers,
Sisters more than he did.
He dreamed about them every night for months afterwards. He was always “knocking” at his old front door and being met there by his Mother, the most devoted mother ever.
It was hard
And things were so crude here then.
And the people were so crude, too.
That made it doubly hard.
But my parents had given me full consent.
It was harder on Mother, I’m sure.
Mother and I were very close friends.
And the “Mormons”!
It was dreadful in her eyes.
But whatever Charlie did was all right, in Mother’s eyes. What a blessing that was.
Parents are jealous more of their girls than of their boys. When my girls got married, I cried. I hated to lose them.
Your parents doubtless have such a strong affection for you, unmarried, that they want you home. All the
But it’s natural for youth to want to wander.
It is lovely in California.
It’s wonderfully lovely in Utah, too, just now.
The natural eyes, plus the romantic mind, makes any place lovely, especially in youth.
And the sea, with its heaving and billows is especially attractive to dreamy youth.
And so you’d like to sleep and sleep and sleep among the poppies. It is enchantment. Airy nothings.
“These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air……
We are such stuff
As dreams are made of; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.” (Shakespeare)
But youth must not sleep.
“Sleep is the shadow of the grave.”
“Death’s image.”
Youth’s joys, to be of value, must have some abiding. Paul tells us what abides. He says all things will pass away, except Faith and Hope and Love --- and the greatest of these is Love. That’s the most effectual and abiding. It overcomes every obstacle.
With all this, I can well understand your situation. You’ve been teaching all winter long. Now you’re thru with it for awhile, there is a natural reaction. Perhaps the poet expresses it well in the following verse.
“Just for one hour to slip the leash of Worry,
In eager haste, from Thought’s impatient neck,
And watch it coursing, in it’s heedless hurry,
Disdaining Wisdom’s call for Duty’s beck!
…….
Our souls require at times this full unsheathing—
All swords will rust if scabbard-kept too long;
And I am tired—so tired of rigid duty,
So tired of all my tired hands find to do!
I yearn, I faint, for some of life’s free beauty.”
Now, Grace come home soon. Mother, Father, are awaiting you. Perhaps they don’t quite understand your longing. They’ve forgotten their own youth’s desires, perhaps. But always remember. Mother-love, Father-love, is the best there is.
Affectionately
Uncle Charlie
ALFRED SMURTHWAITE – HIS ROOTS
Alfred Smith Smurthwaite was born at Salford, Lancashire, England, on May 4, 1867. Since the village of Salford is little known, Manchester has always been claimed as his official home. He was the eighth child of a family of nine. The family group sheet supplies all of the vital records of each member as we now have it. Alfred was born to John Gradon and Ellenor Smith Smurthwaite, both of whom were born in Durham and were always proud of the fact that the Smurthwaites dressed the stones used in the construction of the Durham Cathedral. John Smurthwaite was a newspaper man and as Alfred often proudly said, “He held the same job for twenty-three years without being late or absent one time.” He was a skilled violinist and performed often with a string ensemble. He gave private violin lessons.
Ellenor Smith was a milliner, a creator of hats, and was running her own business at the time she and John were married. Her home was orderly and run on methodical standards. They were a proud couple, and although they were not of wealthy station, they adopted the living standards, on a humble scale, that marked the well-situated society of the upper-middle class. Ellenor maintained her own business professionally until just before her second child was born.
The brothers and sisters in the main, were skilled in specialized fields such as music, design, dramatics, and journalism. John, the third son, worked as a newspaper man, later becoming an editor for the Times, published in Cardiff, Wales, a position he held for many years. Ellenor (nicknamed Nellie) was a creative milliner, gifted also in music and dramatics. It is said of her that her soprano voice was melodious and sweet, having a perfect tone for the singing of ballads. Lillie was a musician of unusual versatality. The four oldest children, Mary Ann (Polly), James, Thomas, and John remained all their lives in England.
Alfred’s brother, Charles Albert, was gifted in Music and public speaking. He had a fine baritone voice and a delightful speaking voice. For a number of years he was a very popular speaker. Henry Gradon, the youngest son, became a professional musician, specializing in piano and pipe organ. One might say that Harry (Henry’s nickname) was a prodigy. At eleven years of age he was an organist at Manchester Cathedral. After coming to America, he studied piano in Boston. He was the pipe organist at the Logan Tabernacle in August 1908, a position he held for many years.
Alfred had many gifts which were not developed to prominence. His schooling was little and that little was obtained under pressure from his parents. Often he would simply stay away from school. Frequently his mother would see him leaning against a tree across the street from his home with the “I am not going to school” attitude. When his mother called to him, he would pout and shake himself with determination not to go.
His father slept days and worked nights, so his mother would call to him saying, “Alfred has the sturdies again.” His father would hurry after him, cane in hand. Alfred would run for the school.
On one occasion the truant officers came after him. They chased him between long rows of houses. As they did so the boy opened every ash barrel he passed. The officials had to close them before they could go on. As Alfred dashed up the marble steps of the Queen Victoria School, he threw his cap at the officer and fortunately ran into his class room.
No, Alfred did not specialize; but his experiences were varied and interesting: he contacted and learned to know people. Freedom of expression and speech had strong outlets in his character and as a boy the school room, with its confining disciplinary atmosphere, were distasteful and unattractive to his nature. The fact that he attended any academic training was due to the combined efforts of his parents and the school authorities. He received early in his youth an intelligent knowledge of the fundamental education, namely: reading, writing, arithmetic. He cultivated in his life a deep appreciation for the fine arts, music, literature and for well thought-out and masterfully presented sermons and orations.
In spite of his unhappy, restless school days, he acquired a fine foundation in the fundamental subjects. He received a certificate of merit for his beautiful penmanship. Besides that, his spoken English was fluent, his grammar excellent, and his written composition good. As the years went by, he became popular as a public speaker. During his adult life he collected a sizeable library and enjoyed good reading. He became well informed through reading state and local newspapers. Besides these, he subscribed to Church magazines; the Literary Digest, Saturday Evening Post, and the Mentor. Of his own choosing, his was a practical education, learned in the proverbial “school of hard knocks.”
Unlike Alfred, his brother Charles Albert was delighted with school. He it was who brought home the honors and the citations from the Queen. He decided to become a secretary. One of his honors marked his perfection in the use of Pitman shorthand. Charlie was a cripple, being bow-legged. So severly were his legs bent that he appeared to be very short in stature. Modern doctors, after examination of his limbs, said that rickets had been the cause of the trouble.
Charles was greatly loved by all the Smurthwaites. According to the scriptures, “greater love hath no man than this that he lay down his life for his friends.” This was said of the love Hyrum Smith showed in behalf of his brother Joseph Smith, the latter-day prophet. Alfred Smurthwaite had that type of love for his brother Charles, to whom he was sympathetic and devoted. “Charlie,” he said, “was in a true sense a cultured gentleman, proud, sensitive and mentally keen. He was the most Christ-like man I ever knew.”
During his adolescence Alfred became acquainted with the Latter-day Saint Church, largely through the influence of his brother Charles Albert and a very close family friend, Mary Jane Proudfoot, both of whom were enthusiastic members of the “Young Peoples’ Good Christian Temperance Society.” The principal requirement of its members was abstaining from liquor and tobacco.
Mary Jane met the Mormon Elders and became interested in Mormonism, and it was through her influence that the Smurthwaite family first heard the Gospel.
Charlie was first to join the Church. He served as secretary to the Branch President and recorded the minutes of many important gatherings and meetings. His signature might be seen throughout the early copies of the Millennial Star edited in England.
After Charlie emigrated to Utah in 1882, other members of the family eventually joined the Church and migrated to America. Grandmother’s attitude is interesting as it is related in the following incident. About the time of the Chicago fire a group of printers was coming to America, and Grandfather Smurthwaite was asked to make the trip. He urged Grandmother to sail with him, but her reply was, “No, not until they build a bridge that I can walk across.” Charlie’s being in Utah made all the difference. Eventually his parents and some of the younger members of the family followed.
Although Alfred had a dislike for school, he always had a profound respect for spiritual things. To attend church was, to him, --even when young—uppermost in his heart. Regularly he attended the Church of England with his family. At an early age (as soon as the law allowed) he was permitted to leave school and go to work. He was first employed in a factory where the manufacture of corduroy velvet was carried on.
In England, at the time, when a man went into the world of work, he achieved a new status in his family. He was accorded a respect he had not enjoyed before. Alfred’s mother always made the home ready for the workers’ return. The fireplace logs were lighted and each one’s chair was drawn up close with his house shoes placed in front of it for warming. Ster all, they were the “bread winners!” The house was tidy; dinner was on cooking. Grandmother herself was “freshened up” and her work cap and apron exchanged for beribboned pretty, lacy things for dinner. Alfred basked under the new deference paid to the erstwhile naughty boy boy of the family. At this time he began to have a better image of himself. He was baptized May 12, 1883, when 16 years old, full of faith and eager to take part. Almost at once he was called as a home missionary, from which office he was released to emigrate to America.
Alfred was eighteen years old when he and his mother stood at the dock ready to sail for America. When the brothers and sisters bid them farewell, little did they realize that they would never see their mother again. When Grandma Smurthwaite died, her son John (Uncle Jack) wrote to Alfred with sorrow and bitterness that he had allowed her to be taken away from England. Incidentally, Uncle Jack and Alfred over the years corresponded with each other and often exchanged photographs of their families. On that day when “Goodbyes” were said, Alfred recalled that his brother Jack, the successful businessman who later would become editor of the Cardiff Times already carried with him an air of success. He was dressed in the finest-cut suit made by English tailors. He looked Alfred over and asked, “Are these the best clothes you have?” The boy felt rather shy and sensitive in his brother’s presence. He was well aware that his appearance did not match that of his elder brother!
ELEANOR MCTINTYRE PARKER
Cousin Nellie Parker emigrated from England somewhat later. She came to live with Grandma Smurthwaite because she did not fit into the new family after her father passed away and her mother remarried Thomas Hancock. Nellie was twelve years old at that time. And came from England to Utah with missionaries who were returning home. At the time Uncle Jack felt that she was taken away under fraudulent circumstances—that the Mormons were responsible. The fact is that Grandma Smurthwaite made all arrangements and paid for her traveling expenses to Utah. Incidentally, she didn’t travel first class! “Little Nellie” had all her possessions in a straw case, upon which she sat during that long boat trip to the United States.
She did have a good home with Grandma, who made for her a strict schedule of chores. She taught her to sew and to make hats. Nellie practiced penmanship and faithfully brushed her hair. When “Little Sweetheart” (pet name given her by her uncles) was “properly dressed” she wore hat and gloves, and she carried a nice handkerchief just as she had at home in England.
Nellie eventually married George Parker of Hooper, Utah, where they and their family lived for many years. We all loved her; Alfred certainly did. In a letter to Mary, Cousin Nellie Parker wrote:
When I married, your father wrote me a letter in which he told me I should always have a home to come to if needed, and that he was ready and willing to do a father’s part for me. He was the only one who gave me the consolation that in time of need I had a real friend and that he would share his last crust with his children and me.
MARY JANE PROUDFOOT—A CLOSE FAMILY FRIEND
Mary Jane Proudfoot eventually emigrated to America, coming to live near her beloved Smurthwaites. She, like them, had loved busy, crowded Manchester, where they had found the Gospel; but along with her friends, she felt called to join the body of the Church in Utah. None of them had known country life or had ever seen a cow! The new, raw life in Ogden must have been quite a traumatic experience for them all.
One day Mary Jane was out on the dusty road in front of the Smurthwaite’s home. Along the street facing her came an angry bull, bellowing and pawing the ground. She, knowing no fear, kept walking toward the frenzied animal. Suddenly one of the children screamed out, “Sister Proudfoot, Sister Proudfoot, come back! Come inside the fence! Don’t you know that’s a bull?” Mary Jane, shocked and disgusted at the “brazenness” of American children, stood as tall as her four feet, ten inches would reach and scornfully retorted, “How (with a silent H) were I to know it were a bull?”
DISAPPOINTMENT UPON ARRIVAL IN AMERICA
Upon arrival in New York harbor Alfred, had but five cents in his possession. As he walked about looking over his new surroundings, he noticed a fruit stand displaying many fruits. One stand idplayed only tomatoes. Since he had never seen them before, he spent his last coin to obtain one. He experienced bitter disappointment as the taste was far different from what he had anticipated, considering the lushness of its appearance.
Another disappointment awaited him as he stepped off the train in Ogden, Utah: No sidewalks, well, a few board ones! There were weeds, tumbled-down fences, unkempt out-buildings and neglected-looking fields. His first impulse was to return upon the next train to his beloved England. “Why, the English countryside was a beautiful garden! There were hedges, green grass, birds and flowers in England.” England was a mother of nations, a ruler of nations! Such thoughts weighed heavily upon him and his homesickness was indeed great.
Nevertheless, he found adventure and plenty to do in this new, raw America. In the Church he found companionship. New experiences crowded his time: The first position of mention he had here was that of a traveling salesman for the Schocroft and Sons Wholesale Grocery Firm. This work helped to enlarge his acquaintances and to build friendships wherever he traveled. During this time Alfred actually laid the foundation for his future employment. He was a natural for this type of work. He was an excellent conversationalist and could carry on intelligently upon almost any subject. Besides being well dressed, he was pleasant, optimistic and knowledgeable. He won the confidence of prospective buyers and for a young man did very well financially. Over the years he tried other types of work, but eventually he would go back “on the road” as he called it.
SMOKING, NO, NO!!
Like many young men, Alfred had his problems: He decided to smoke cigarettes. Some of his popular friends were smoking. He knew better than to take up the habit, but he wanted to be liked and felt that if he got on with the popular, prosperous fellows he would have it made.
One evening his mother, while walking along a street in Ogden, noticed that Alfred and two friends were walking ahead of her. They were dressed for an evening “out on the town.” She noticed also that they were all smoking. Coming up to him she said, “Ye think you’re a dandy? But you’re not but a coward, too weak to live up to your own principles. Stamp it out, lad.” So full of the same rebellion and resentment that so often marked his boyhood, he stamped it out in the irrigation ditch where he had thrown it.
Christmas Eve, years later when his daughter Margaret came home from Smithfield, Utah, where she worked as an English teacher at the junior high school, she found her father sitting close to heater in the dining room. He had just come home through a heavy snow storm from doing some last minute shopping. A few days previously he had bruised his right arm when he had slipped on some ice. He was cold and tense, so Margaret rubbed liniment on his arm and gently massaged it to ease his pain. Gradually he warmed up and began to talk more than in monosyllables.
“You know,” he observed, “I have found that the closer one lives up to the teachings of the Gospel, the easier it becomes to obey all the commandments. Once I thought that I just had to smoke. I told myself that my smoking helped me in my business—you know, so many contacts smoked. Then I found out that my mother didn’t like my smoking. Full of resentment, I gave it up, thinking that when I got married I’d smoke all I wanted to. Well I got married and your mother didn’t like my smoking, either. So to please her, I gave it up. Since then I have not cared about it! Giving it up was easier. Living the Gospel gets easier and easier as time goes on.”
During his younger years, he was learning and growing. As he was now feeling financial independence, his clothes began to show new fabrics and the latest styles and fit. He liked good clothing and was soon considered one of the best dressed young men in the community. Look at his pictures taken during this period. Notice the detail and finish of his attire. Note the walking stick, the fancy vest, the fine shoes and the flower on his lapel. In one of them, notice the cigarette between his fingers. Oh, yes, he still went to Church, but he wanted to be popular. He was “feeling his oats!” as we would say today.
Besides his taste for fine clothing, he was becoming a true connoisseur of foods. He knew what was good to eat and how it should be prepared and served. He cultivated a taste for good eating habits and a curiosity for foods of different nations. English foods remained his favorite. He knew what to serve as a complement: For roast lamb, mint sauce; for roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and Worcestershire sauce; for roast pork, apple sauce. Those who knew him best delighted to please his appetite and tried to make dishes to his liking. He would say to anyone, usually his daughters who chanced to complain about his fussiness, “I’m the easiest man in the world to care for: Just give me what I like!”
Alfred did not demand fancy, elaborate salads or deserts. He learned to enjoy all fruits and vegetables (even tomatoes) and demanded thin sliced bread or hot biscuits. Seasonal foods like Christmas cookies and candies, strawberry shortcake, pumpkin pie, were relished as if they were made especially for him. Often he’d say when his satisfaction was complete, “God bless the queen and all the royal family!” All who heard him knew that the queen and royal family referred to was his beloved wife and children.
He best enjoyed plain, undecorated desserts: Fruit cake or suet puddings filled with a variety of fruits and nuts; or more simply with a few currants served always with lemon dip flavored with nutmeg. He enjoyed equally well pound cake, citron loaf or or most any cake without icing. He thoroughly enjoyed his snack before retiring: Usually a glass of milk, a piece of his favorite cake or thin-sliced bread with blue-damson plum jam or orange marmalade. He liked the relaxing grace in England of the four o’clock tea hour; but America was too young, too bustling and too busy for such a time-out custom as that.
There is little wonder that Alfred’s children were not food faddists. They were taught to eat all good food and enjoy it. Besides this he had all his children become acquainted with the unusual: Blood pudding, mushrooms, frog legs, trype, brains, sweet breads, and chicken feet. He sometimes teased Mother by saying such things as, “I taught your mother all that she knows about cooking. All that she could cook when we were married was Mormon gravy.” He did teach her much, “No doubt about it,” he would often reiterate; but he taught a sharp and willing student whose love and labor wrought the miracle!
ALFRED’S MOTHER—GRANDMA SMURTHWAITE
One Sunday while Grandma Smurthwaite was paying her annual visit to the Alfred Smurthwaite family, our mother asked her to make the Yorkshire pudding that was to complement the roast beef, saying, “Alfred always complains that my puddings are never as good as the ones you make.” Grandma made the pudding, and after Alfred had carved the roast and had served the pudding and exclaimed, “Mother, I wish you would teach Maggie how to make Yorkshire pudding. Hers is never so good as the ones you make.” Grandma replied with emphasis, “Come off it, Lad! I made this pudding myself!”
At the Christmas dinner Alfred was always excited as he saw Mother enter from the kitchen with the flaming plum pudding decorated with holly. He was enthusiastic about the big turkey or the baked suckling pig with a red apple in its mouth.
Grandma Smurthwaite seemed always to us a little old lady. Her hair was iron gray; she was very slender and taller than our mother. On her visits to our home Grandma made herself a part of the family. Bedroom furniture was set up for her in the parlor. Mary slept there with her so “she wouldn’t be alone.” She helped with dusting the furniture, drying the dishes, paring the vegetables for supper, and setting the table. She always wore a black dress with a pretty narrow, white collar and cameo brooch. On her head she wore a little cap, always pretty.
ALFRED’S RELIGIOUS ACTIVITIES
Alfred’s religious zeal seemed to be inborn and Sunday was a sacred day for him. Always he wore his very best, accented with a spotless white or pin-striped vest. He took an active part in the “Restored Gospel” but maintained an appreciation and respect for the educated clergy and the righteous endeavor of the church of his youth. He had a warm-hearted sympathy for all religious faiths and for the good they endeavored to do. He was interested in the international program of the Salvation Army and held great regard and respect for their leader, General John Boothe. Some of his personal friends were among clergyman with whom he enjoyed visiting. He always went to Church on Sunday. If he was out of reach of his own church, he went to the church available.
He also felt it his obligation to be a good citizen of the United States. Alfred consistently obeyed the laws and was eager to defend the rights of all men. He worked for worthy causes in and out of the church. While yet a young man living at home in Ogden with his mother, he joined the Ogden Cricket Team and became a proficient player. In these days the game was very popular. The Ogden team played with many out-lying teams in the states.
COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE
One time in May, 1889, the Ogden team played a game at Wellsville, a town about forty miles from Ogden, on the occasion of one of the town’s popular May-Day celebrations. That evening Alfred saw lovely Margaret Ellen Brown on her way home from school. He fell in love with her at first sight, and determined to marry her, saying to his companion, Doctor Cook, “I’m going to marry that girl.” Had he known the opposition he was going to meet from the Wellsville town’s people, he might have hesitated in even considering the marriage. The people felt that this young “Foreigner” was not good enough for “Maggie.” Her mother bitterly opposed the wedding.
Our mother said that after the marriage, “Dad purposely and consistently cultivated Ma’s friendship, extending courtesies and tenderness: for instance; handing her in or even lifting her out of the carriage. He won her heart! The same way, he won mine.”
Alfred and his bride married in the Logan Temple, June 25, 1890. Their son, Alfred Tennyson, was born December 13, 1891, at the Brown family home. Less than two years later Alfred was called on a mission to England. Gladly he accepted the call to carry the message of the restored Gospel to his homeland. Naturally his first desire upon his arrival to his field of labor was to contact his family. He visited his brothers James, Thomas, and John, and his sister Mary Ann (known as Polly), none of whom were interested in the Church. He greatly enjoyed his varied and interesting experiences. He was an excellent missionary, filled with sincerity and enthusiasim for the truthfulness of the restoration of the Church and its teachings.
He managed to contact his relatives. He held in high esteem Uncle Henry Todd, Aunt Mary Salter, and Aunt Charlotte Stonehouse, his mother’s sisters. Many people, converts and contacts, kept in touch with him after his return home. While in England he had occasion to contrast his homeland with the challenging, growing, progressing America. He still enjoyed the beauty he saw in many well-ordered British homes and hoped that some day the way of English living could be incorporated in his own home in Utah. He especially enjoyed Aunt Charlotte’s warmth and love and her meticulous house keeping. He was impressed with the snowy-white widths of covering that centered the walking areas of the beautiful deep-red plush carpets on the stairway leading down into the spacious room below. He, being lovable and affectionate himself, naturally responded to Aunt Charlotte’s attention: the morning paper and breakfast in bed, his shoes polished outside his bedroom door!
News from home was eagerly looked forward to. Maggie was a faithful correspondent even though she was kept busy with her baby and her school teaching. During Alfred’s two years away, she was finishing her ten-year career as the teacher in the old rock school-house. After he had been gone for four months, her second son, John Armand, was born. This boy proved to be a joy and a comfort to them until his untimely death at the age of fourteen years.
While in the mission field Alfred’s father passed away. He learned of his passing before the news arrived from home telling of his death and burial. One evening while studying at his desk he had a spiritual visitation from his father, an experience that comforted him and strengthened his testimony. From then on, he became a still more ardent advocate of the Gospel, filled with sincerity and enthusiasm for the Church and its teachings.
ALFRED THE ENGLISHMAN
Alfred’s nationalistic feelings and sentiments ran high, and naturally so, for had he not grown up with his generation under the reign and strong influence of Queen Victoria and the long line of predecessors? He was reared to believe that to be born an Englishman was the greatest privilege that could come to any man. England was the mother of nations, heroes and rulers of the seven seas, the home of poets, statesmen, conquerors, and of many battles. England, where the people were probably the most law-abiding on earth. He loved to arouse his children into argumentation, stimulating in them a love for England as well as loyalty and undying patriotism for their own country.
When Queen Victoria died her beautifully hand-woven picture was hanging in its place by the staircase next to the frame of the double door that led to our parlor. On that day and for days following Alfred wore a band of black crepe on his arm. When asked why he wore the crepe, he would reply, “My Queen is dead. Long live the King!”
Alfred was very critical of Fourth of July orations that down-graded England, his homeland and the home of his ancestors. On July 4, 1889, he was in Wellsville for the celebration. Mother was gowned in flowing white robes and a striking headpiece; she was the majestic goddess of liberty. On this day she rode in a float handsomely decorated in the national colors, and with her characteristic style, sincerity, and dignity Alfred heard her deliver the oration “Ode to the Nation” written by Moroni Duncan. Some of the tones in the speech were critical of the mother country. Later that day Alfred let her know that her mention not favorable to England was objectionable to him.
Just the same, Alfred learned to love America. He became a loyal citizen, gladly obeying the laws and seriously studying the state and national issues. He constantly supported the Democratic Party, unfailingly voting in elections. He even sang “America the Beautiful” and loved it!
GRAIN AND SEED BUSINESS
Alfred continued his desire for church service after he returned from his mission. He moved his family to Ogden, employed as a traveling salesman for the Schocorft Company. Here his daughters Margaret and Sarah were born. Maggie’s attending physician was Doctor Hyde, a long-time friend of the Smurthwaites. Alfred finally left Schocorft’s employ and became the partner as a branch manager and buyer in the newly formed enterprise of “C. A. Smurthwaite Grain and Seed Company.” His brother Charlie was manager. Eventually he transferred to Salt Lake City. After one year he moved to Wellsville and operated a branch seed and grain store in Logan.
During the same year Alfred purchased the old Brown home-stead from Grandpa Brown. Maggie, elated, said, “This is my last move. I’ve counted; I’ve moved twenty-three times in my married life!”
This actually was a fine old home, built by Uncle Sam Mitton. Alf and Maggie remodeled the old house into a very livable, lovely, comfortable home with new furniture throughout. Paradoxical as it seems, most of the furnishings were of Alfred’s choosing! Maggie was content with that. Her job, she knew, lay in the heart of the home. She trusted his judgment and he tried to please her. There it stands today, located on several acres of land on the eastern side of the townsite, four blocks from the public square—the center of town. To Alfred Smurthwaite, the dreamer, the idealist, it must have been a place to love, cherish and cultivate. So it became; but not without labor, love and heartaches.
The pictures that Alf brought home, he chose with great care for particular places. They were professionally framed. On the stairway, just before the turn that lead into the upstairs hall, hung the gold-framed picture of Durham Cathedral. All of us loved that picture, with river water lapping the foundation of the great building towering above it.
Our cousins were also interested in this picture. One night Melba Gunnell wanted Sarah to go and stay overnight at Aunt Sarah Ann’s. After considerable coaxing she said to Mother, “Aunt Maggie, if you’ll let Sarah go, I’ll never ask you again until this water comes to Wellsville.”
Most of the pictures Alf chose were of interest to all of us. One pair was entitles “Queen Alexandria, Her Grandchildren and Dogs,” another “The prince of Wales and His Horses.” “The Charge of the Light Brigade” fascinated the boys, while the girls liked “The Little Princess At Work.” A pair of striking pictures was in magnificent oak frames. One pictured Christ on a donkey, making his triumphant entry into Jerusalem , the other one was Christ before Pilot.
Probably our most loved picture was that of Saint Cecilia with her hands on the keyboard of the organ, presumably playing music so beautifully that the angels above her were showering down roses in her honor. This picture hung above the handsome little cherry-wood piano where the Smurthwaite children could hopefully practice and become musicians.
Mary was the one who loved to practice. Saint Cecilia inspired her. She practiced before going to school. She loved that piano and thought of the “piano chair” as her own. This instrument Alfred bought from Aunt Nellie Nickson and it is thought to have been the first one in Wellsville. As a result the piano was moved to the town hall, to the Church, or to individual homes to help with the entertainments. Alfred and Mary were our musicians at heart, he with his whistling and humming of tunes and his singing of solos and duets with Maggie; she with her piano and voice.
This estate furnished an ideal place for children. The hills sloped down to the lower level pasture and the “Little Creek.” Here and there were springs where watercress grew and where great willow trees grew to be climbed and “tamed” for swinging. The calf pasture was behind the house and was perfect for playing active games—“London Bridge,” “Work Up,” “Pomp, Pomp, Pull Away.” The chicken coop, near the house, was perfect for playing “Anti Eye Over,” and “Hide and Seek.”
Because he envisioned a gigantic chicken business, he built with the aid of Walter Aylett, a trestle connecting the first hill (where the out-buildings were located) and the second hill. On the north side he planned chicken coops and runs. The venture prospered. He shipped in the finest day-old chicks from Peteluma California. Alf became a showman; he took many a blue ribbon with his poultry.
One time after bathing a grooming a pen of white Plymouth Rock Chickens (it being January) he spread papers on the kitchen floor and left them inside for fear of having their combs frost-bitten. The next morning early he had made a roaring fire in the cook range and the rooster, a beautiful bird, singed its flowing tail as it brushed the stove. The Logan Journal made quite a story out of it, which caused much gossip and fun by the natives of Cache Valley. On one occasion, he had a pen of beautiful white hens and a handsome rooster, fully qualified as to breeding and pedigree, to enter the County Fair for judging. The night before the chickens had been brought to the spacious kitchen to be bathed and groomed for the next day’s showing. After each had been given the final touch of Vaseline rubbed into its comb, which brought out the color and made them glisten, papers were spread for their convenience. The next morning the usual fire was built in the kitchen range and not anticipating the movements of the stately rooster, Alfred found his attention occupied by other duties of the morning. Later when he came to place the chickens in the shipping crate, to his disappointment and amazement his prize rooster had scorched his billowing white tail feathers. Needless to mention the feelings of the proud owner, the Country Press not willing to let this incident go by without a story, featured a humorous article in the Logan Journal which brought fun and laughter to his competitors. Here Alfred realized the value of a sense of humor.
ALFRED’S LOVE OF HIS WORK
The chicken venture was just a side issue. Alf lived in Wellsville and operated a branch seed and grain store in Logan, branch of the C. A. Smurthwaite Grain and Seed Produce Company located in Ogden. He traveled all over beautiful Cache Valley, made friends with the farmers, many of them his lasting and devoted friends. He traveled by team and buggy to his place of business in Logan and it was always a source of delight to the children when Billy and Molly came galloping down the dugway, the screams accompanied with the ring of, “Here comes papa, here comes papa,” was a thrilling welcome that any father would love to have. In winter time he wore a full-length fur coat, having deep pockets usually heavy with treats for everybody. These years of business activity and service proved to be the most carefree and the happiest of his life.
How he enjoyed his little Ford car! He did not like driving alone. He was never a loner. He enjoyed the company of Charlie B. and the boy enjoyed his ever-spirited and cheerful father, who, always fair and square with people, earned their confidence. His business flourished. He increased his business territory to include adjoining counties.
Many of this Englishman’s dreams were materializing. No wonder he hummed or whistled as he worked! After remodeling and refurnishing the old house in 1906 and 1907, he made it into a lovely home which was always shared with many friends and relatives that chose to come there.
Alfred was house proud! Often he’d say, “A man’s home is his castle.” He felt that way and was never through working at his. He frequently bought new things or had them delivered from Logan. When Harry C., our youngest brother, was born, he brought home for Maggie a beautiful rocking chair, upholstered in green velvet. He purchased the library table that centered the west end of the big parlor, and the handsome table lamp to go on it. He was the one who brought home the wicker baby carriage for our new baby, Mildred—that gorgeous carriage with its impractical white parasol with white net and its still more impractical upholstery in pale blue silk with tiny pink flowers. When he told our practical mother the cost of the carriage, she answered with her oft-used cutting remark, “They saw you coming!”
The house lay within walking distance of the church, schools, stores, blacksmith shop, and eventually the theatre; and even Aunt Sarah Ann’s house was only six blocks away. Old Bill was a favorite horse. He knew when he was near home and would quicken his pace from the easy lope to a gallop! The little girls, not able to prevent his increase in speed, hung on to his mane for dear life to avoid falling off as he made his left turn and sped into the driveway.
CHRISTMAS
ALFRED WAS THE PERFECT SANTA CLAUSE! His was always the biggest Christmas tree. There was fire in the fireplace, stockings filled to the brim, toys of the finest for both the boys and the girls. All of the holidays throughout the year, even from St. Patrick’s to the 4th of July, were made important to his family; but much more preparation and celebrating took place with greater ferver and enthusiasm for the coming of the bells of Christmas.
Well in advance of the festive day, Alf carefully selected cards for his many friends. The following excerpt from his “Missionary Journal” show his concern: “Dec. 4, 1893 Christmas cards to Ethel Watkins, Priscilla Brown, Rosella, Pollie and Veda Gunnel, Mary’s baby and our baby, one to Maggie, Nellie Nixon, and Grandma Brown.”
It was Christmas eve in Wellsville, December 24, 1903. A few days previously we had decorated the huge Christmas tree. Alf, as usual, had done most of the decorating after struggling with the wooden base that supported it and held it firmly in place. He always had trouble with the boards and nails and hammer! Of course all the children helped by handing him the long strings of popcorn and of tinsel, telling him just where to place the favorite ornaments—the beautiful angel “on the very top.” Finally they handed him the candle holders and then the candles of the “right color” to go in each one.
Grace was only two years old and Mary four, but they were helping too. Sarah, six years old, was really useful in handing things for the right place, and Margaret, all of eight, was rejoicing as the chief director! Tennie and Armand were outside feeding the chickens and throwing hay down from the loft to feed the cows. All this happened three nights before. The candles had not yet been lighted. The tree still looked good, except just a bit less than perfect on the lower branches!
After Alf had bathed each one of us one by one in the round galvanized wash tub in front of the kitchen range, had put “Camphor Ice” on our faces and had brushed our hair to shining straightness, we trooped up to bed, Grace in Alf’s arms, Mary on his back, and the other two following behind. From the kitchen Mother called, “Remember to say your prayers.” After Dad turned out the light he admonished us to “Get to sleep now!” And, “Old Santa will not come until you are sound asleep, every one of you.”
Guess what? When we trooped down the stairs before sun-up on Christmas morning, the tree was gone! The chatter and noise we made brought Alf in a minute. The house was warm; the flames shinig through the windows in the big heater were cheerful to see. Alf must have been up very early—something he hated on a cold winter morning! “Be quiet now,” he said very quietly. “Come in here and see your new baby brother!” (Charles B. was born on December 24).
Guess what? We didn’t even see the baby brother!! All we saw was the tree in front of the south window—the tree alight with gleaming candles, surrounded by doll carriages and doll beds and dishes, a wind-up train and balls and a bat and a sled and, oh, everything we had been dreaming about!
Then came the questions at once. “Did Santa move the tree?” “Did he light the candles?” “Did any ornaments fall and break?” (that from Margaret). “No,” Alf had answered to every question. “I brought the tree here so that Mam Pam (his pet name for Mother) could see the tree and all your pretty things.” Our mother looked beautiful in her light blue bed jacket, leaning back on the pillows with the “hand-knitted lace.” Not until then did we see the baby brother—the first boy born after four girls in a row—cradled in her arms so that we could see him and examine his hands and feet, his hair and eye lashes.
After the two proud brothers had come in and set up their train, they proposed that they go out on the hill and try the new sled on the hill. Alfred, however, proposed breakfast first. “Laura (Leishman) says it is ready in the kitchen.” Alf dreaded the Christmas season to be over. He’d say to us at bedtime on New Year’s Eve, “Old Santa will be around here tonight on his return to the North Pole. If you are asleep he’ll leave a little bit of something—his New Year’s greeting to you. Next morning we girls would always find small gifts on the dresser in our room—maybe a bottle of heliotrope perfume.
On Sunday after church and on many different special occasions our Dad would take us driving in the “surry with fringe on top.” Mother sat in the front seat with the two little ones. On the back seat remained his “back-seat drivers,” energetically, persistently telling him where to go: “Go to the big creek! Go through the water. It’s not too deep.” No matter what his planned destination was, we always got to go through the water first! How we loved Mollie and Bill, that team of spirited bays—the carriage horses.
COMPASSION
Alfred Smurthwaite was diligent in magnifying his priesthood. He was a member of the ward choir and cheerfully served whereever he was called.
As Sunday School Superintendent of the Hyrum Stake, he served faithfully and well. His good influence he left wherever his visits were made. When called to speak, he often sang a favorite hymn to put over a point. He was gifted with a sweet high baritone voice. Some of his favorite songs were, “Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel,” “Scatter Seeds of Kindness,” “Count Your Blessings,” “Let Us Oft Speak Kind Words,” “There Is Sunshine in My Heart Today,” and “I Know My Heavenly Father Knows,” which he loved to sing.
During the number of years he served on the board, he was constantly striving to improve the ward Sunday Schools. His excellent and efficient board members loved him and responded eagerly to his youthful spirit and encouragement.
FRIENDS
His friends came from all walks of life. He was considerate and generous to a fault, would offer money, hospitality and assistance to those who came for it, many times assisting them when it was a supreme sacrifice to himself and family.
One early autumn day, a lone man riding in a light buggy drawn by a tired gray horse, rode to the Smurthwaite residence. He was past middle age, wearing a wide striped coat, shabby trousers, and a well-worn hat. He alighted and tied his horse to the hitching post and, coming through the gate, asked the curious children, “Does Alf Smurthwaite live here?” This Englishman became a member of the household, willing to share any inconvenience if he might be housed. Tome Kirkup was crippled in one of his legs because of a wound received while serving in the British Army. He got about with the use of a cane which made his usefulness of little value to this household of many duties. His stay was many months and, notwithstanding the inconvenience his stay brought this family, he was treated with respect, and Alfred’s sympathy for his was such that he couldn’t tell him to leave.
Sister Wilson and her son, Willie, were two of Alfred’s English converts. They stayed with us a full year in Wellsville. Willie went to school with us, and Sister Wilson helped Maggie about the house. Before the cold winter set, she knit beautiful woolen scarves and mittens for the boys, and handsome “fascinators” for the girls.
Among Alf’s many friends and acquaintances Tom Rowley remained the most loved. Where they met or how long ago we may not know, but Tommy had also emigrated from England and found himself in Cache Valley. He and his wife lived in our house in Wellsville for one season while Alf and his family lived in Logan, where Alfred was there establishing his business. They were caretakers, but at the same time appreciated the housing. Tommy was a man of small stature , and had a rather positive step. His hair was thick, dark auburn and very wavy-rather wirey in texture. He had a manner of blinking his eyes much the same as does a chicken. Also the tilt of his head resembled that of a chicken when it listens for insects. He had a keen mind, unspoiled wit, and genuineness of purpose. Tommy was not well to do, nor was he schooled in the school training of the day; nevertheless, his knowledge and understanding in the field of horticulture was an inspiration to college professors and scholars alike. They came to him with their problems and sought his advice and respected his counsel.
Tommy lived on Canyon Road in Logan Canyon, surrounded by many fruit trees, honey bees, and poultry. His six sons and daughters were a constant pride and joy to him. He gave them nicknames such as “Buff,” and “Tiger Lilly.” “Tiger Lilly” looked like her name, with her thick hair and freckles to match.
Tommy had a rare gift for originality of expression. For example, he would refer to college professors as “white-collared artists.” Of certain men who pretended, he might say, “Why he doesn’t have money enough to buy a mosquito belt!” When explaining a decision, he would often say, “I’ll tell you for why.” In describing Margaret’s tall fiancé, he quipped, “She looks like a period after a long sentence.
Dad never wearied of Tommy; they would sit far into the night, discussing and exchanging thoughts and idea.
Always at Christmas and Thanksgiving there came to our house dressed poultry, or a box of shining Jonathans from Tommy’s “plantation.” This true friend was at Alf’s bedside a few days before he passed away. His presence was thoughtful, quiet and comforting. He spoke of the time when Alf would be well. He would put a tent in his orchard for him to regain his strength. There would be pure canyon breezes and warm sunlight that would strengthen and invigorate him. Tommy’s feelings were deep and sincere as he sat quietly at the bedside of his friend, the two of them still bragging about the accomplishments of their children.
No children could have had a more wonderful daddy than ours, or a happier childhood. Alf was not so good as the father of teenagers. He found it difficult to reconcile himself to the fact that these teenagers just naturally are meant to mature into independent freethinkers if ever they are to be able to assume adult responsibilities. Intellectually he accepted this; emotionally he could not. Very often his reactions to their disagreements were explosive. As his stresses in life became more severe and his financial problems more acute, his temper would flair more quickly. If someone crossed him, he reacted without thinking. Naturally teenagers could not understand his anxieties.
For example, at times he would yell out, “Well, I’ll be jumped up!” and then enter into a flow of harsh cutting accusations. The children would fly back at him and would soon be in tears. Alfred, quick to flair up, was just as quick to calm down and become gentle and lovable.
Taking a bath was a major production to Alf, and actually t the whole family. He would never take into the bathroom everything he needed. Any or all of us who happened to be home would be enlisted in the job, “Bring me the soap.” “Throw me a wash rag.” “Go up stairs and get my white shirt from the dresser drawer.” “Toss me the cuticura soap, I don’t like this kind.” “Thanks, doll, now hand me those suspenders from my clothes closet.”
One day daughter Margaret, who had now just about “had it,” what with running up and down stairs, said to her mother, “I don’t see how you can stand Dad! How on earth did you ever come to marry him?” Maggie came out of the pantry angry, assumed her customary fighting stance and replied, “Now I’ll tell you something. When you marry, if you do half as well as I did, I’ll be satisfied.”
Maggie, Alf and all the family suffered when he was overwhelmed by financial reverses. He invested one thousand dollars in a furniture business in Logan. The next day the owner declared bankruptcy. He recovered from that in time; but when the C. A. Smurthwaite Grain and Feed Company failed and Dad’s partnership was dissolved, he never did again recover. The farmers who sincerely loved and respected him lost faith in the company when C. A. Smurthwaite was excommunicated from the Church. This happened when the children of both families were more demanding for school expenses and for cultural opportunities.
Truly it could be said of him as Stephen Vincent Benet said about Miles Standish, “He was a little cannon soon fired.” On the other hand, the children found it hard to get over their hurts and Alf, noticing their eyes red with crying, would ask, “What’s the matter around here? What’s all this crying about?”
Away from home he was always pleasant and cheerful. He liked approval. So characteristic was his good humor that the older town kids called him, “Uncle Happy.” Cyrus Bailey said of him, “If Alf had only two cents and a few screws in his pocket, he’d jingle them and be singing and smiling.
One day Sarah said to him, “Dad, how is it that when you’re away from home you are so happy and when you are home you get so mad?” Rapping his knuckles on the table he shouted, “If a man can’t get mad in his own house, where can he get mad?” Yes, he was naturally warm hearted and affectionate and happy in spirit. He needed approval, especially from his family. Mary, who stayed at home with Maggie and Alfred after the rest of us were married, said, “I quarreled a lot with Dad. I often said mean, cutting things to him. That has been hard for me to bear.”
Maggie and Alf often “battled it out.” She would assume her dramatic stance with no uncertain terms. It is said that she didn’t often remember the words of her patriarchal blessing: “You will marry a man who will greatly appreciate your love and affection.” She said one day shortly after his death, “If I had shown my love and spoken the love that I always felt for your father, I could have twisted him around my little finger.”
It was sad that Alf was forced to move his family to Salt Lake City, this move being motivated by the accident suffered by his youngest daughter, Mildred. This was a very trying experience for all the family, that the family home was sold to others outside the family heritage. This move was accomplished with much heartache. How strange it was that Alf Smurthwaite was never again to know the freedom of soul and the peace of mind that the years in Chache Valley had brought him. Cache Valley, where he was know and respected, and loved. From then on always accident, or destruction, of one kind or another threatened his peace of mind and his rest. But with it all, he retained his youthful spirit. He never lost his faith in God, and his testimony of the Gospel was made strong. One of the last things he did was to visit his sister Lilly who had been away from family contact for many years. He felt impressed to make this visit and so , though ill, he trangeled alone in his small car to Oakland, California, where he endeavored to renew her faith in the Gospel message.
She was not in mind or heart to receive his counsel and message kindly. Her two daughters, Eva and Ellen, scoffed at the idea of their mother’s renewing her affiliation with the Church. However, while he lay very ill, she wrote him a letter, revealing a humility of soul and expressing appreciation for his visit and his interest in her welfare.
Never again was Alf free from debt and anxiety. Time after time he mortgaged his home or sold it and replaced it for one of less value. Finally he was forced to lapse insurance policies. He took any kind of a selling job he could find. This constant stress and heartbreak finally turned his former dreams of grandeur into a barren waste. During his final lingering illness he continually fretted about leaving Mother “penniless.” Her having to live in the Gordon Place home was a final blow to his pride. Maggie, on the other hand, accepted graciously this, their last home which she described in a letter to a dear friend, Ella Kvist:
After a long and arduous search for a desirable place to live in, having searched among the inviting and uninviting, in Logan and it seemed from end to end of this city, trying chiefly to fit our pocketbook and have a little cleanliness and desirability thrown in, we at last hit upon our present location, between Main and State and half a block north of North Temple, five rooms, and small in comparison to other seven and eight-roomed houses we have always lived in. We could not get all of our furniture in, but enough to make us cozy and comfortable, and handy to town and to the temple and library, also to the 17th ward chapel Mary, too, is pleased, as to her walk to and from work is short. Harry will have to take the streetcar to school. He will, however, walk one way.
During his final lingering illness Alf continually fretted. Cousin Nellie said that a few days before he died that, at occasional lucid moments he would glance at the picture, “Christ before Pilot,” and would speak as if addressing the central figure. His mind seemed always to be upon Maggie.
While looking intently at the picture, he would ask, “What would you do? I must provide for Maggie. Give me just ten years more. I know I can do it in that time.”
And so it was that on March 31, 1932, he passed away in Slat Lake City, Utah. Members of his family have received beautiful manifestations that he is happy in the spirit world. They have received much comfort from this knowledge. He has left to each of his children a heritage of honesty, generosity, faith and devotion to the good, the true and beautiful of life.
Alfred, when describing people often quoted Sam Walter Foss:
“They are good, they are bad
They are weak, they are strong
Wise, foolish, so am I.”
Alfred was one of such people. His children revere his memory.
EPILOGUE
DEAR NAMES
Our mother and our brother Tennyson arranged for our father’s funeral service in Wellsville, that town that had come to love him, Alf Smurthwaite.
As one would expect, many of these loved people named below are members of the Brown and Baily families. Others were Church leaders with whom he had labored in the wards and stake.
FUNERAL SERVICE
Hymn -------------------Though Deepening Trials
By choir
Prayer-------------------Bishop Charles B. Gunnell
Duet---------------------Laurence Bailey and wife
Address-----------------S. B. Mitton
Address-----------------Bishop E. R. Owen
Solo---------------------Scatter Seeds of Kindness
By Laurence Bailey
Remarks----------------Bishop John J. Hendry
Hymn--------------------I Know That My Redeemer Lives
By choir
Benediction------------President James Quinney
Dedication of grave---Peter M. Maughan
Choir Director---------Lamont Allen
Organist----------------Gilbert Thorpe
Just before the service began our sister Mary requested that she be given the privilege of singing a tribute to her father. None of us remember just where in the service her number came, but we shall never forget our thrill as she accompanied herself at the grand piano and in perfect voice and emotional control sand “Beautiful Dreamer.” It expressed a perfect tribute from his entire family.
