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AMY VILATE PORTER WHITE
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[Found in the blue book "Thomas Washington White Descendants," compiled in 1981.]
Amy Vilate Porter was born January 29, 1873, in Porterville, Morgan County, Utah. She was the sixth and last child of Alma Porter and Minerva Adaline Deuel. When she was eleven days old, her mother passed away of complications following child birth. She was taken into the home of her Uncle Lyman and Aunt Sarah Porter and was there raised as one of their own children. She loved all of them and they in turn loved her. At one time she said that Uncle Morry, David, and Lyman, her foster brothers, seemed more like her brothers than did her real brothers. Morry and David loved to hunt ducks and she picked and cleaned them. All her life she had a lovely duck feather bed made from these feathers. Later as she had her own family her children thought they were privileged indeed if they got a chance to sleep in "mother's feather bed." She said that when she was quite young she used to faint away at the first sight of blood, and when the boys brought the ducks home they'd go right up and show her the ducks and over she would topple in a faint. In later years she overcame this feeling completely .
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Her early childhood was spent in Porterville. She was a very happy child and had a naturally sunny disposition. Everyone, both old and young, were drawn to her and they all loved her. All of the families in Porterville were pioneering, and it was no easy task to get enough money to buy Christmas presents for each other. All the presents had to be homemade. The mothers would sit up long after the children had gone to bed each night sewing rag dolls for the girls and knitting stockings for the boys. All the dolls looked alike. The hair was made from yarn left from the stockings and the faces were painted on with pen and ink. All the girls got the same kind of doll and they were always happy on Christmas morning to have a new doll.
When mother was about nine years old she got a little china doll for her birthday. It was real china and very beautiful. It was her first 'store bought' doll and it was very precious to her. It had a painted face and clothes. Mother played with it every day and made clothes out of tiny scraps of cloth that her new mother gave her. She treasured the little doll all her life.
All of her daughters would say, "Mother, when you die can I have your little china doll?" Mother would al ways say, "Yes." There were four girls and only one doll, and mother could not bear to hurt any of their feelings by saying no to any of them. The doll was always kept in the middle dresser drawer in mother's bedroom. We were not allowed to play with it, but on rare occasions we could hold it for a few minutes. I used to go to the drawer and look at it and think how wonderful it would be to have it for my very own. The little china doll was in the dresser drawer when the house burned down in 1927.
As mother grew up she took part in all the ward activities and sang in the ward choir and glee club. She had a very lovely voice and was always willing to help with the music at church functions and funerals. In those days the entertainment was furnished by local talent and those who could help were much in demand. Many years after mother passed away her daughters, Mildred and Zelpha were in Porterville visiting with some of the older people and they were asked to sing. After the songs were over one of the ladies cam e to them with tears in her eyes and said, "I could almost hear Vilate singing, you are so much like your mother."
Times were hard among the pioneers in Porterville. There never seemed to be enough to go around. It was necessary for each one to "work out" as soon as they were old enough. When mother was about fifteen she went to work for a family in Ogden by the name of Ballentine. From that time on she worked "around" wherever a new baby was expected. She said that many of the women would save the laundry for two or three weeks for the "hired girl" to do when she came. We can imagine how the washing would pile up with as many as ten in the family. The washing had to be done on the wash board and many nights she was up past midnight for two or three days getting it done. Besides the washing she had to prepare the meals and look after the family needs. For this service she was paid fifty cents a week. By the time she was eighteen she had saved enough to buy a trunk and fill it with bedding, a down tick, pillow shams and cases with crochet on them. She was very happy because she had fallen in love with one of the local boys.
On October 20, 1891, Amy Vilate Porter and Thomas Washington White were married in East Porterville, Morgan County, Utah. Bishop Samuel Carter, bishop of the ward, performed the ceremony. To this union eleven children were born, seven boys and four girls: Thomas Irving born August 26, 1892, at Porterville, Morgan, Utah; Leon Alvin born September 2, 1893, at Porterville, Morgan, Utah; Gordon Myron born February 6, 1895, at Porterville, Morgan, Utah; Amy Leola born August 26, 1896, at Porterville, Morgan, Utah; Lucille born January 25, 1898, at Auburn, Lincoln (Uinta) , Wyoming; Leland born April 20, 1900, at Thayne (Glencoe), Lincoln (Uinta), Wyoming; Mildred Louise born July 17, 1902, at Thayne, Lincoln, Wyoming; Orlan Alma born July 5, 1905, at Thayne, Lincoln, Wyoming; Mondell Porter born September 22, 1908, at Thayne, Lincoln, Wyoming; Zelpha born April 22, 1911, at Thayne, Lincoln, Wyoming; and a stillborn son born March 1, 1915, at Thayne, Lincoln, Wyoming.
The temple in Salt Lake had not been dedicated when mother and father were married. It was dedicated on April 6, 1893. That was a time of "great rejoicing" for the saints. Now they could go to the temple and be sealed for time and eternity. Mother was expecting her second child in three months and she wanted it to be born in the covenant. Father did not have enough money for both of them to ride the train to Salt Lake so he rode a horse and mother rode the train. They went to Salt Lake to the temple and were sealed on June 28, 1893, for time and eternity. Mother often said that was the happiest day of her life. Now her children would be hers for time and eternity
When their first child was born there were no doctors or hospitals in the vicinity and the only help mother had was the neighbor women. It was one of those hard births. For three days and nights she suffered the pains of childbirth and it was feared that she would lose her life. Then the pains stopped and the baby could not be born. Death was very close at hand. Mother realized the seriousness of the situation and prayed fervently to our Heavenly Father to spare her life. She promised her Heavenly Father, if he would let her live, she would always do anything she was asked to do in his service as long as she lived. This promise she kept throughout her life. Before the neighbors left that night, two good men, one of which was her father, laid their hands on her head and with the priesthood administered to her. Before the blessing was finished, her prayers were answered and the baby came into the world. She never forgot that blessing or the promise she had made. All present at the incident bore testimony to the miracle that had been witnessed and all were shedding tears of joy at her deliverance.
The little spirit only stayed a short time on this earth but he brought a great deal of happiness to his parents. When little Irving was two months old he contracted pneumonia and died on October 4, 1892. This was a great sorrow to them. Mother clung to the little life with all her might and prayed fervently to our Heavenly Father to spare his life. Finally when his suffering became too great for her to bear she went to the woodshed and prayed alone. She told the Lord that if it was His will that her baby should go, to take him. When she reached the house he was just breathing his last. It was always her teaching to her family to accept the will of the Lord and never exert our own desires above His will.
One night when then-second child, Alvin, was only a few weeks old, father had gone to Morgan to militia practice. He belonged to the Morgan reserves. Mother was alone when a severe electrical storm came up. Mother was always nervous when the lightning and thunder were bad, and that was quite often in Porterville. This night it seemed particularly close. She went to bed and took her small baby in her arms and snuggled him close to her. She lay in bed thoroughly frightened. The thunder grew louder and louder, the lightning flashes were closer and closer. The storm raged on and on. Finally a big crash came. The lightning had struck a tree in front of the house and a big limb had come through the window of her room. One of the good neighbors came to see if she was alright. He had heard the crash and wondered if she had been hurt. She was very thankful to see him. They were living in the back part of the home owned by Joseph R. Porter.
Their third child, Myron, was born on a cold wintry day, February 6, 1895, in the same house where the lightning had struck. He was a robust baby right from the start. He grew fast and before long he was as big as his older brother. He always seemed to be Alvin's protector and guide.
The fourth child, Leola, came along on August 26, 1896, just as the fruit and tomatoes were coming on. Mother had just got a bushel of tomatoes picked when she felt the first signs of the impending birth. She had to get the tomatoes in the bottles for winter, baby or no baby. She worked frantically between pains, and when they got so bad she could not work she sat down for a few minutes and then went on again. She finally finished the last tomato and went to bed. The neighbor came and a few minutes later, Leola, their first girl was born. Mother said, "Well, I can rest now that all the tomatoes are in the bottles." She often laughed about the race Leola had with that bushel of tomatoes.
In the fall of 1897 (the Porterville records show the date as January 7, 1898), mother and father with their three small children, moved to Auburn, Wyoming. Father had a job feeding cattle for John Tolman that winter and their fifth child was expected in a few weeks. They settled in a one room dirt-roofed log cabin. It was a bitter cold winter and the family could not keep warm. The wind blew through the cracks in the walls and made little snow drifts on the floor and bedding. The extreme cold made the cattle's noses bleed. It was here on January 25, 1898, that Lucille was born. They all thought that she would freeze to death when she came into the world, but mother put the baby's little body next to her own warm body and gave her the warmth she needed to survive. It was some time before the cabin could be made warm enough to dress her. The only heat they had was an old wood-fired kitchen range. They held her in front of the oven door to get what heat they could while dressing her.
One day father had just come from feeding the cattle. The two small boys, Alvin and Myron, wanted to go out to meet him. Mother put their coats on and started them down the path they had dug through the deep snow. You could hardly see their little heads above the snowbank. Father had not seen them coming and he turned the horses loose to go into the barn. Instead of going to the barn they started down the path where the little boys were coming. The horses threw their tans in the air and galloped off on the run. They ran full speed until they came to the boys and then they pranced along behind them so close that their heads almost touched the horses' breasts. As soon as the trail widened the horses kicked their hind feet in the air and darted past the boys at full speed. Mother had been watching through the window in terror at what was happening--praying and pleading with the lord to spare her children.
The next winter the family moved to Cottonwood Canyon, northeast of Smoot, Wyoming, to another dirt-roofed log cabin. This one had two rooms. Father had a job working in a sawmill. Mother was expecting her sixth child in April. While doing some shopping in the store she was exposed to the red measles. When she came down with them she almost lost her life. The cough was so bad that she was ruptured. There were no doctors in Star Valley. The Priesthood was called and through their blessings and her faith her life was spared. One of the good neighbors, Hyrum Rich, said he took buttermilk to her every few days and each time he thought she could not live another day.
On April 1, 1900, the family moved to Thayne (called Glencoe at that time). They lived in another log cabin which father had built just before they moved. There were very few houses of any kind at that time so they were lucky to have shelter. . On April 20, Leland was born. Later Mildred and Orlan were born in this same cabin, but by then two more rooms had been added, built by the slabs father had from his sawmill operation. The cabin had a stove in one end with a bed on each side of it, an outside door and one window. To make it look more like home mother covered the walls and ceiling with factory (unbleached muslin) and then whitewashed it with slack lime every spring and fall she sewed rags together and had a carpet woven for the floor. It was made in long strips which had to be sewn together. At threshing time mother filled all the bed ticks with fresh straw and washed the carpet and put fresh straw under it to make it warmer. Then the long strips had to be sewn together again by hand.
In 1901, when she was the mother of five living children and expecting another one, she was chosen as Second Counselor in the Thayne Relief Society to Lydia Titensor. She served in this position until 1905 and then she was sustained as president. She gave birth that year to another baby, Orlan, making seven living children. She was thirty-two years old, three miles from the church house, and no transportation except the one team which father used to do all the farm work, and haul the logs for the sawmill. Many times she walked to meeting when father was using the team and could not spare them. Sometimes her counselor, Ethel Humphreys would furnish one horse and mother the other, and they would hook them together to make the trip. Mother often laughed about how funny they looked together with one so big and the other so small -- but they got to meeting. Mother held this position for eight years, and was released only when her health broke and she had to be released. She was sustained as president again when her health returned. She held the position the second time for nine more years, making a total of twenty-one years of service in the Thayne Ward Relief Society. She had been released only a short time when she passed a way in 1927.
In those days there were no doctors or morticians. The President of the Relief Society served as both. Mother delivered babies, cared for the sick, laid out the dead, trimmed the caskets for the burial, made the burial clothes and sat up with the corpse. It was necessary to keep formaldehyde cloths on the face of the dead to keep them from discoloring until funeral arrangements could be made. These cloths had to be changed every hour, day and night, and fresh ones put on. The friends and neighbors always helped, taking turns until time for the burial. Many nights mother sat up until nearly morning sewing for the dead or trimming the casket to have it ready in time for the funeral.
Before Bill Hebdon's mother died she lay in a coma for days. They could hardly tell whether she was breathing or not. Mother stayed by her side for almost a week, leaving her family and home to give what aid she could. Father cooked most of the meals and the older girls, Leola and Lucille did the rest of the house work. We were very glad when mother was able to come home. They were all pioneers together and each one was willing to be of any service that was needed. One neighbor was expecting a new baby and did not have the money to buy the necessary clothes for the new arrival. Mother made a complete set of clothes and took them to the mother. No one ever knew where they came from.
Whenever a new baby was born the neighbors always helped, especially the Relief Society Presidency. Every morning and night the mother and baby had to be cared for. One night as mother went to bed she sighed wearily, "I hope Ethel (Ethel Humpherys) does not need me tonight." Mother had been in bed about two or three hours when Brother Humpherys came to the door. "Ethel is in labor and needs you, can you come?" Of course she could come. She went and stayed two days. There was a family of little children and they needed help. Father, Leola and Lucille took care of the necessities at home until mother could come back. The girls were getting old enough to do most of the things that needed doing while mother was away. All the ladies in the community took their turns helping in time of sickness and need. It was the only way they could survive. No one knew when they might need help so they gave freely of their time and energy.
On October. 27, 1903, mother's father, Alma Porter, died in Porterville, Utah. Mother was very sad. She knew she could not go to the funeral. There just was not any money for anything except the barest necessities. She had not been home to see her family since she had left there five years earlier when they left to pioneer into Wyoming. She was very homesick. It was many years later that she made her first trip back to Porterville, and how she did enjoy it. She was able to see all her dear friends she had left so many years before.
Mother did all the sewing for the family, sometimes sitting up past midnight in order to have clothes for the children when they were needed. She used an old treadle sewing machine she had bought with her meager savings before she was married. She saved every scrap of cloth and cut them into quilt blocks to be sewed together for the quilts that were always needed. Father put hooks up in the ceiling and tied strings onto them so mother could hang the quilt frames on them and then roll the quilt up at night to have it out of the way until she was ready to quilt again. There always seemed to be a quilt on the frames.
Father operated a sawmill and people brought their logs for him to saw. . Sometimes he took Myron and Alvin with him and floated logs down Salt River to Thayne, and then they would pull the logs out of the river with a horse and load them on sleighs to haul them to the mill. This was hard and hazardous work for boys so young, but father needed the help and they were all he had. Each night when father and the boys came home they were wet and ice was frozen to their leggings. They wrapped burlap sacks around their feet and legs to keep the wet and cold out. Mother washed out their heavy socks each night by hand and dried them by the stove so they would be ready for the next day. They only had one pair for each one of them. Most of the people who brought their logs to be sawed were not able to pay for the work, but they would bring a piece of meat, or some eggs, or potatoes or anything they had. Some did not have anything to bring, but father did the work anyway. Everyone was in the same circumstance. They were all trying to survive. Many nights father stayed up past midnight to get the lumber for someone to build a shelter for his family. Mother always stayed up until father came in from his work. She was always worried that something would happen to him, and she could not sleep with the whir of the saw slashing into the logs.
In the fall the whole family would go into the hills and gather wild berries for winter fruit. The men would shake the bushes until the service berries dropped on the canvas below and the women and children would fill the buckets and cans. Then there would be days of sorting and canning. Mother would go along the ditch banks and gather gooseberries and currants to add to the service berries for variety and flavor. There were pickled, preserved, fresh and jellied berries. Each one tasted good to the hungry children.
Mother always tried to have a vegetable garden, but in the dry years the water was scarce and hard to get onto the garden, so it was not a very successful venture. She also tried to have a few chickens for eggs for the family. The coop was not much more than a shelter with a few slabs nailed together and some straw to nest in. The winters were cold and one night the creek froze over and flooded the coop. Many of the chickens were drowned. Mother took them into the house to try to revive them but to no avail. Things like this were a real tragedy with so many mouths to feed.
In 1907, just before her ninth child was born, we moved into the new house that father had built about a mile east of the log cabin on some of the land he had homesteaded. My, what a mansion it was after the log cabin we had lived in. It had four big rooms, an upstairs, and a bathroom and pantry. There were no fixtures in the bathroom, of course, but it was a bathroom nonetheless. We also had a cellar where we could store the fruit and vegetables. The house had high ceilings and a transom above every door and real glass windows. The furniture was all homemade and the floors were bare until mother could get enough rag rugs to cover them. But it was al ways neat and clean and we all loved it in spite of the poverty. Father had sawed all the lumber and did most of the carpentry work. Mother covered the walls and ceiling with factory (unbleached muslin) and papered each room. To us it was beautiful.
Some years later father gave up the sawmill and started to "prove up" on the land he had homesteaded. Mother helped clear the land of sagebrush and plant the grain. When the grain was cut she helped shock it in the fields from the small sheaves so it would dry and be ready for the threshers. When the threshers came it was a big celebration for the children to watch the horses go around and around to turn the machine and see the grain come out into the sacks. It would then be taken to the flour mill so we could have flour for the winter.
Father was never meant to be a farmer, but times improved and there was nearly always plenty of beef or pork to be put down into the salt brine to keep for the winter use. Then we had potatoes and always plenty of bread and milk and some fruit in the bottles. Occasionally there was also fruit drying in the attic for the winter. The Lord al ways blessed us with the necessities of life.
In about 1908-9, the Relief Society sisters decided to make a small building of their own so they could have a warm place to meet and have space for their storage. After consulting with the bishop, and much thought and prayer, and with the support of their husbands, the project was undertaken. The lumber had to be hauled from Turnerville, about 20 miles. The sisters drove the teams to the mill and the men helped them load the lumber for the trip to Thayne, the site of the new building. The officers and building committee were: President - Vilate White, counselors: Emma Hemmert and Nettie Miller, committee - Camilla Hemmert, Lydia Titensor, Annie Wright, Ann Hokanson and Sister Haderlie. They all worked tirelessly and well until the building was completed and dedicated. It was a happy day for the men, too. They had spent many hours working on it and the sisters made many sandwiches and soup to feed them when they were hungry. The men of the ward were just as proud of the new building as were the sisters. It made a lovely warm place for them to meet. The Relief Society sisters also made a storage building for wheat in obedience to the advice of President Brigham Young -- to have grain on hand to feed the poor and hungry. They gave grain to help with the United States aid to the Europeans after World War. For many years they received what they called the "Wheat Fund." It was interest from the government for the wheat they had given.
From the time mother was quite young she had a large wart on the crown of her head. In her later years it began to grow. Finally it started to pain and father took her to Doctor Kackley in Soda Springs, Idaho. He told her it would "eat your head off, but don't worry." He operated and removed the growth. When she came home her head was swathed in bandages which she had to wear for several weeks. The hair had been cut and her head scraped to the skull. She rode home from Montpelier, Idaho in a sleigh after the operation.
In her early thirties mother started having severe headaches, they called them bilious spells, now we call them migraine headaches. She would be so ill that the least sound or movement was pain to her. The children would go into the bedroom and lean against the bed and try to talk to her. She was too gentle to send them a way. She knew how lonely a child is when the mother is ill.
After we moved into the new house father made a flume and brought the water down to the washhouse so we could have a power washer. All these years we had been doing the washing on the board. It was a great day the first time we used the power washer. The whole family took part in the celebration. We all helped until the last piece was hung on the line. Then father fixed a place where we could churn the butter with the same power. The children had been doing the churning by hand to the tune of "Churn butter come, the old cows horn." I never knew what butter was 'till after I was born". The butter was always hard and cold and the buttermilk was so delicious.
Mother used to get wool and card it into batts for the quilts. It was raw wool and had to be washed very carefully so the natural oil would not be lost, then it had to be picked over to get all the burrs and seeds out. Then mother would spread it on the cards and make batts. It was a long slow process and lots of work. Her hands would get very tired after a long day's work getting enough batts ready for a quilt. They had to be spread evenly on the lining of the quilt so there would be no bumpy or empty places and the quilt would be soft and even. Then would start the long evenings of quilting.
One summer John Hemmert took his family on a long vacation. He was gone a month and he asked father to move to his place and take care of his dairy. He milked lots of cows and sent his milk to the creamery every day. Father and mother took us to John's place to do the chores. It was during this time that a real bad thunder storm came up. Father had sent Alvin down to our house to get some things we needed. It was not a great distance but Alvin had to go in the wagon and the roads were very rough so travel was slow. The storm struck a little before dark. Alvin had not come home yet and as the lightning got closer and closer mother and father began to get worried. Finally it started to rain. Great sheets of water came with the wind. Darkness came and Alvin had not arrived. Mother went to her bedroom and prayed to our Heavenly Father to send him home safely. It was very dark by now and the streaks of lightning flashed across the sky lighting up the whole valley. Mother and father walked the floor. They tried to comfort one another but the time dragged on. Finally they heard the crunch of wheels on the gravel outside. Father rushed out and took Alvin in his arms. Mother was right behind him. The team had instinctively followed the road and brought him home safely. Mother al ways said it was the hand of the Lord that saved him.
We did all our work in the evening by the light of kerosene lights. Electric lights were not even heard of. Mother tried to have the globes cleaned every day so the light would be bright in the evening. After many years we had gas lights put in. They were gasoline flames. The tank was set in the attic and copper wire was used to bring the gasoline to the lights in the middle of the ceiling. That was a great improvement over the kerosene lamp.
Lydia Titensor was one of mother's best friends and advisors. They worked in Relief Society together and formed a great friendship. Lydia and her husband, King, came to the Valley before mother and father did and when anyone new came to Thayne, King and Lydia were the first to welcome them. King always had plenty of hay for his stock and when a neighbor was short he would lend him some "to tie him over to spring." They were some of the finest people in the world. Everyone loved them.
On April 20, 1913, mother had a stroke. Mildred had been kept home from school that day as mother did not feel well. The baby, Zelpha, was just two years old so mother needed someone to watch her. About noon mother took the baby on her lap and was going to rock her to sleep. Mother loved holding her in her arms and caressing her. It was not long until mother began to feel a numbness in her left arm. She called Mildred and asked her to rub the arm to see if she could get it to feel better. It continued to get worse. Mildred took the baby and laid her on the bed to sleep and then came back to help mother to bed. By this time she could not walk and had to be almost carried to the bedroom. Mildred sent Mondell to get the neighbor, Eliza Wright, and the doctor was called. He lived in Afton, twenty miles away, and transportation was by bobsled and team. The roads were very rough and full of bumps. It was midnight when he got there. In those days the doctors knew practically nothing about strokes or their treatment, so he just came to make her comfortable, she would probably be dead by morning. Eliza Wright took care of the children. Alvin, Myron, Leola and Lucille were in Afton going to high school. Leola rode down with the doctor so she could take care of mother and the children and Eliza could go home. Father was gone and we did not know where to find him. He had gone to Idaho on business. He was finally located at the home of a friend, Truman Hebdon, in Rigby, Idaho, where he had gone to visit on his way home. Travel was slow as the roads were just breaking up in the spring and transportation was by horse and sleigh.
The neighbors came every morning and gave mother hot massages and hot steam baths. They put hot towels on her legs and arms and rubbed them to restore circulation. After many weeks, and through the power of the priesthood, mother's strong faith and many prayers, the goodness of the neighbors and the strong determination mother had to get well, she was able to move her toes. It was a wonderful day for the family and friends. Many tears of joy and thanksgiving were shed. Her recovery was almost complete. In the years that followed you could hardly tell that she had been paralyzed. It was only when she was very tired, after a long day's work, that her foot dragged a little, that was all. Mother did not have a comfortable chair to sit in so the good sisters of the Relief Society each donated what they could and bought mother a lovely rocking chair. she enjoyed it so much during her long period of recovery and through the rest of her life.
In 1912, mother homesteaded 350 acres of land in Alpine, Idaho, when the government threw the land open for filing claims. Father and the boys went down and built a shack for shelter and planted crops so she could prove up on it. Mother went down to do the cooking, but Zelpha was only one year old and it was very hard for her to live under such conditions with a small baby. All the water had to be hauled from Snake River about five miles a way, so we had to conserve on it. The washing had to be done on the board and this was too much with a baby to wash for. The shelter was made of boards up to the square and then a tent was stretched over the top of the shelter. It was very primitive living. The next year Mildred was sent down to do the cooking and take care of the men. As soon as Zelpha was old enough she went to Alpine and took her turn doing the work. Many were the long and lonely days she spent there alone while the men were in the fields. It was a great responsibility for one so young. She never complained and was always on hand to help in the field whenever she was needed.
On March 1, 1915, Mother gave birth to a stillborn son-- her eleventh child. Alvin was sent to get Mrs. Roberts, the local mid wife, and Leola was sent for the neighbor, ELiza Wright, but neither one of them got there in time, so father had to deliver the baby without the help of anesthesia or anything. It was a hard birth. The baby had been dead for two months but mother survived. It was a great disappointment to her to know that she could not raise her last child, for she knew she would never have another one. She had wanted this one so much. She made the little soft clothes with so much love and anticipation. Father made a little casket and Leola covered it with the soft flannel diapers that mother had made. She put a row of lace inside and finished it with silk braid. The outside was also covered with the flannel and had a row of brass tacks around the outside. It looked lovely. Some of the neighbors went with father and they buried him in the family plot in the Thayne cemetery.
For many years mother would go to the drawer where she kept the little clothes she had made and caress them tenderly as the tears ran down her cheeks. Mother loved her family more than life itself and each one was most precious to her.
Hospitality was one of mother's many virtues. In her Patriarchal blessing she was told that she would never want for bread, and no one would be turned hungry from her door. Father had many acquaintances and business men who came to see him regarding legal or business matters and he always asked them to stay for dinner. I can just hear him say, "Mother, can you fix a bite for us to eat?" Many times there was not that much on hand but mother always fixed a good meal. She was expert with buttermilk biscuits, and with her freshly churned butter any meal was a treat. Her neighbors always said that she could fix a meal out of nothing, and many times she had to do just that. The promise in her Blessing proved true throughout her life.
Life was not always hardships, it had its funny side, too, and its enjoyments. Once in a while we would go over to Charley and Annie Wright's for Sunday dinner. It was a great occasion for all of us. After dinner the children and adults would play games. One Sunday the grown-ups were on the lawn sitting on a quilt visiting. The men got the idea of tossing the women up in the air on the quilt. Mother got her tossing and they were all laughing so hard they could hardly stand up. Then it was Annie's turn. The men tried and tried, but they could not budge Annie from the ground - she was just too much for them. They finally had to give up. The children stood around wide-eyed wondering what had happened to make their parents act that way. When it was their turn to come to our house they went in the front room and played chronol. Father was pretty good at it but the rest of them had a hard time. You could hear father's Hee-Haw all over the place when he and Charley beat mother and Annie at the game.
The local talent was the only entertainment they had in town. Father, mother, Ann and Griff Roberts, and Fred and May Hancey were about the only musical talent they had in town. They met at each other's homes and sang together often just for the pleasure they received. There was no piano in town, so father would get the pitch with his tuning fork and they sang without accompaniment. Mother had a beautiful voice and everyone loved to hear her sing. This group brought much comfort and enjoyment to the small community. They sang at all the funerals and church functions. They also took part in many dramatical productions for the enjoyment of the town folk. Mother took the leading lady in many of them including "Madam X", "Face on the Barroom Floor" and others. They all tried to squeeze every minute of happiness out of life that they could.
For many years father went to Brigham City in the fall to get a load of fruit. There would be peaches, pears, tomatoes, green cabbages, apples and any other kind of fruit and vegetables available. When he got home there would be a frenzy of canning, washing bottles, carrying water from the creek in front of the house, wood from the wood pile, sorting, washing, peeling and cooking until all the bottles were full. Sometimes we worked far into the night to keep the fruit from spoiling. After the long ride some of it was pretty badly bruised. The bruised part always went into preserves. Mother never could stand to throw anything away, so it all had to be used in some way. Those preserves were delicious. Sometimes father and the boys helped a little, but the fruit always came on just as the hay was ready to be harvested so mother and the girls had most of the canning to do. It was a wonderful sight to see all the bottles lined up on the cellar shelves full of the winter's fruit.
On one occasion father went to get a load of apples. On the way home the weather turned cold and father was afraid the apples would freeze, so he built a fire under the wagon when he camped for the night. The smoke went up into the wagon and into the apples. That year we had smoked apples all winter long. Mother tried every trick she knew to take the smoke out, but to no avail, so we ate smoked apples.
It was on August 29, 1915, on the farm in Alpine that tragedy struck. Alvin and Myron had gone to the Snake River for water. They had to back the wagon down a steep grade into the river and fill the barrels with buckets. After they had filled the barrels they decided to take a swim in the river. The water was not high in August, but neither one of them were good swimmers. They swam for awhile and then challenged each other to a race across a pool to a sandbar. The pool was deep but they thought they could make it. About half way across, Alvin called for help. Myron went to him but was unable to bring him to shore. Father was sent for but in spite of all they could do it was almost midnight before they found the body. About daybreak they brought his body home to mother in Thayne. Mother was heartbroken. She was overcome with grief from which she never quite seemed to recover. Many times I would find her looking at Alvin's picture and sobbing as if her heart would break. They laid Alvin's body out in the front room to await burial. The neighbors all came to offer help and sympathy. The funeral was simple and beautiful. He was laid to rest beside his little brother in the family plot in the Thayne cemetery.
While father was in the State Legislature his third and last term in 1917, he sent for mother to join him in Cheyenne for a few days of sightseeing. Lucille made her a brown suit and a new dress. She bought a hat in Cheyenne to go with the suit. It was the most new clothes she had ever had. She took the train on what was the first and longest trip she had taken alone. On the way home they stopped in Porterville for a visit. It was the first time she had been home since she left for Star Valley in 1898. She could not believe it was really happening. She spent several days of happiness visiting with all her old friends and family. She enjoyed it to the fullest and often spoke of it for a long time after wards.
Ethel Humphery was one of mother's most loved and trusted friends. They worked in the Relief Society together for years and shared their joys, sorrows and complete confidences. They were visiting teacher companions together on the district around home. The last time they went to visit their district they stood at the gate when they had finished and talked for a long time. When Ethel left they embraced and kissed each other good-by. They both had tears in their eyes, and they expressed their great love for each other. The next day, April. 27, 1927, mother's home caught fire. She was there alone. She went outside and called "fire, fire" and then went in and tried to see if she could save anything. The neighbor, Sidney Wright, heard her call and came to help. He found her in a state of shock. He carried her out of the burning house and laid her on the lawn in front of the home she had loved so well. She passed away without regaining consciousness. She was not even permitted to lay in state in her own home. A neighbor, Benjamin Broadbent, offered his home to father which was gratefully accepted. Every consideration was given the family in their great loss. This was gratefully appreciated.
--(compiled by Mildred W. Straw)
Her obituary in the Star Valley Independent dated: Friday, May 13, 1927, Afton, Lincoln County, Wyoming, records the following: "Funeral services of Mrs. Vilate White were held at the Thayne Ward meeting house on April 30 at 3:00 p.m. The opening song by the high school chorus under the direction of Principal C. L. Brown was very beautifully rendered. The opening prayer was offered by N. J. Hemmert followed by a solo by Lloyd Gardner.
Bro. Wm. E. Jenkins was the first speaker. He spoke very highly of the works of Sister White and offered many words of consolation and comfort to the bereaved family. B. R. Wheeler then told of the faithful service of the deceased, and the comfort she had given to others in the years' of service she had rendered.
President Barrus then spoke of the life beyond the grave and what it meant to know that there is something to look forward to after this life is ended. He also praised the work done by Mrs. White. Mrs. Frances Palmer, Mary Osmond, Dorothy Wheeler and Lena Walton then sang "Beyond Today".
Bishop R. R. Dana then told of the accomplishments of Mrs. White in her twenty years of service as President of the Thayne Ward Relief Society and the many lessons taught by example rather than precept. He also expressed the thought brought out by her in the parents class as she pleaded with the parents not to find fault with one another and to show leniency with other's failings. The high school quartette then sang" Rock of Ages'.
Benediction was given by Charles E. Wright.
Mrs. Vilate White was fifty-four years and three months old at the time of her death. She was the mother of eleven children, eight of whom are still living, as follows: Myron White of Thayne, Mrs. Elden Allred of Fairview, Mrs. Charles Call of Afton, Leland White, who is now in Fresno, Calif., Mrs. D. W. Straw of Springville, Utah, Orlan White of Alpine, and Mondell and Zelpha White, both of Thayne.
The fact that wherever she was known she was loved, was proven by the number of people who came from all parts of the valley in such numbers that many were not able to enter the church house.
Floral offerings came from all parts of the Valley, several beautiful sprays of roses and carnations came from friends and relatives in Utah. Mother was buried in the family plot beside her two sons who had gone before. She had given her love unstintingly to all she met. She was a faithful Latter-day Saint and an obedient servant to the Lord to the end of her life. She obeyed those in authority and trusted in them implicitly. Her children revere her memory and call her blessed.
Soon after she moved from Porterville to Star Valley in 1897, her foster mother, Sarah Emmett Porter, wrote the following verse of love to mother which she always treasured:
I'm sitting alone in my bedroom now, while all the rest are asleep
Writing to one that is far away. O that I could weep.
But my tears forbid to flow, To relieve my aching heart
T'was thus I felt dear daughter, The day we had to part.
Now this may seem quite simple, To those that never know
A mother's love and affection, That I've always had for you.
But this to me was given, By one who rules above
And He surely will approve this, For one of his attributes is Love.
To those that will prove faithful, Rich blessings are in store.
Where death will have no sting, and Satan have no power.
Where father, mother, sister, brother, Relatives and friends
Will comprehend all things alike, And their hearts in union blend.
Clad in the robes of righteousness, With truth upon their tongue
Without a frown or scornful wink, But a smile with everyone.
And Oh how sweet to think upon, Shall we turn aside and weep?
No, if we gain a rich reward, Our record will be sweet.
Please think of one who is far away, Your mother I still remain
Please write to me quite often, And I will do the same.
(History Written by her children)
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