Porter Family Organization

How Can I Help?

Family History and Genealogical Committee

Monument and Cemetery Committee

Communications Committee

Family Reunion Committee

Inspirational Thoughts/Poems/Stories

Family Links

The Family Tree

Family Albums & Personal Histories

Family Newsletter

Announcements Events & Games

Porter Family

Edson and Catherine Porter
(Click Image to Enlarge)

I, Edson Darius Porter, was born April 12, 1859 at Provo, Utah -- the son of Chauncy Warriner Porter and Lydia Ann Cook. My parents went to Provo at the time Johnson's Army came to Utah and the Saints were advised to move south until the trouble subsided. I was born while they were in Provo.

We moved back to our home in Porterville, Morgan County. There my early boyhood days were spent. My father died March 3, 1868 at Centerville, Utah of pneumonia. I was just nine years old. My Uncle Nathan wanted to help his brother's wife, so he took me to live with his family. I received training there that I appreciated the rest of my life. I had work to do that I was responsible for which required me to rise early in the morning. I often said that Uncle Nathan's family was the best organized family of any I knew. They all had work to do that they were responsible for. There was never any fussing or fighting. I stayed with my uncle until I was 16 years, then I went to work to help support my mother and three young children.

When I was eighteen, I helped my brother, Warriner, move his family to Southern Utah. They wanted to join the United Order, then being established at Orderville, Kane County, Utah. I stayed at Orderville three weeks. We ate in one big dining room. As all young men are interested in girls, I thought I might find one that would suit me. The first week passed and I said to myself, there is not a girl here that I would have. The second week brought a new set of girls into the dining hall. As the girls came in, I saw one among them that I thought would do. I said she is mine. I stayed another week, then I had a chance to go home to Porterville with a man who was going north for a load of goods. There was an Orderville woman who was going to visit her parents. That evening as we were sitting around the campfire, she asked me if I had found a girl in Orderville. I said yes and she asked her name. I did not know her name because I hadn't spoken to her yet. I described her dress and how she looked. She said, "That is Catherine Carling and she is a mighty fine girl." I went home feeling like I had my girl picked out.

I decided to go to Orderville during the summer. I liked it so well I decided to move my mother, brothers and sister in the fall. When we arrived, I soon started looking for work. My brother, Warriner, was running a saw mill in the mountains. My brother, Omni, went to work with me hauling logs. While he was rolling a big log on the wagon the chain broke, it hit him on the head and killed him. He was only 16 years old. Everyone love him. It was a terrible shock to all of us.

I went to work in the carpenter shop and worked there a few months. One day the Bishop asked me if I would like to be a tanner. I told him I was well pleased with my job, but if he wanted me to learn the tanning business, I would change my job. The Bishop told me the Superintendent of the tannery wanted a man who would make a good tanner and learn the trade and also handle the business, as the man working for him would never make a good tanner. The Bishop told him to look around among the young men and see if he could find one that would suit him. He did so then told the Bishop. The Bishop asked who he was and the superintendent said I don't know, but I know he will make a good tanner. The superintendent's name was Samuel Mullernor. He held the gold metal that was given as a prize to the man who tanned the first sole leather that was made in Utah in pioneer days. Brother Mullenor was pleased with my work. He said that I took to it like I was used to it. He always called me his son and we became life-long friends. I worked at the tanning trade for 8 years, as long as the Order lasted.

I started courting Catherine about this time. She had an older sister, Ellen, and she and my sister became very good friends, but I still had my eye on Catherine. We soon became a twosome. We made our plans to get married. One morning on June 2, 1880, we started from Orderville to go to the St. George Temple to be married. We had a very nice trip. When we returned home we had a surprise, everyone was eating at home instead of the dining hall.

Our first home was with my mother. She and Kate (that was my wife's name) got along just fine. I worked at the tannery. When our first baby was seven months old, I went to Salt Lake City to learn the trade of finishing leather. There was a man in Orderville who knew how, but he would not teach it to anyone else.

Several years later, a great change was made in Orderville. It was conference time in Kanab. Some matters came up before the High Council -- Apostle Erastus Snow was presiding. One of the Orderville man said they did not enjoy the liberties that should be theirs and they were deprived of the luxuries of life, etc. Then Brother Snow said they couldn't call that the United Order -- no more than the Kanab Coop (a stock company) was the order. At that remark from the President, our presiding brethren said if it is not required of us to live as we were doing, they did not propose to carry on any longer the sacrifice we were making. After that conference, word was sent to the church authorities and two of the youngest Apostles were sent down to investigate conditions. They were Brigham Young, Jr. and Heber J. Grant. They asked President Taylor what message he had for the Orderville people, and he told them to get the spirit of the Lord and find out what the trouble was, but not to discourage them or advise them to discontinue their working together. They called the people together and gave all of them the privilege of expressing their feelings about breaking up the Order. It took about a week to give them all a chance to talk. There were very few who wanted to break up.

After hearing how the people felt, the Apostle said that President Taylor told them if the people didn't want to continue any longer, they should hold the lines while the people let go. The authorities decided to divide the property according to the value of the capital stock each one had turned into the order. I turned in stock, a yoke of oxen which were valued at $40 each. I bought a bare lot with it.

After the order broke up, I took up shoe making, as there was no one else making them. While I was making leather in the order, I used to take a roll of leather to the shop after I had finished my work at the tannery and I would watch the men make shoes. That is where I partly learned the trade. I told him I hadn't learned it, just picked it up by watching others at their work. The old man said, "You do better work than I ever did." My grandfather was a shoe make. I made chaps for the cowboys, did some harness work as well, and made leather jackets for the men.

My business grew very fast and I soon had enough material to build a house. After I had the material and the house started, I sold it for 15 acres of land on the south side of the river. I started another. Before it was completed I had enough money to pay for it. I employed my brother Warriner and his sons to build it. I kept very busy in my shoe business.

About this time I received council from the President of the Church to take a plural wife. I didn't feel I was worthy or could live it the way I should. I asked Katie who she would rather I marry, a girl from one of the families in town or one of her sisters. She said she thought she could get along better with her sister, so on February 19, 1886, I married Phoebe Malinda Carling in the St. George Temple.

Katie and I had three children at this time, Arvina, Alice and Delilah. On May 10, 1886 another daughter was born to Katie and me; Geneva was her name. December 1, 1886 a son was born to Phoebe. I bought 15 acres of land and built a home on it for my families. I planted an apple orchard, which I never had any of the fruit. I heard they were the best apples in the country. During this time, the U. S. Government instigated a raid against all polygamist in the L.D.S. Church. They imprisoned all that they could find. I and my brothers, Warriner, Lysander and Henry A. Fowler went away to the underground and were gone for six months. While I was in exile, both of my wives gave birth to a baby. The children didn't dare tell who they were or where I was.

In due time, I returned home and stayed there for the next two years, but still had to keep out of sight of the officers. In the fall I went to Salt Lake City and bought a supply of fine leather to make a new start in my shoe business. I thought I could go to work again unmolested, but not so. The officers were on the watch again. President Woodruff sent word to all the presidents of the stakes to tell the brethren who were liable to the law that if they would like to take their families and move to Old Mexico they could do so and they would have his blessing. The Saints were establishing colonies there. My brother Warriner was there with his families.

I could see that I couldn't live in peace and be a free citizen, so I decided to sell my property and fix outfits to go to Mexico. The authorities of the L.D.S. Church asked permission from the Mexican Government to establish colonies in their country and told them the purpose of their going there. They gladly welcomed our people to their country.

I asked Katie what we should do, she said, "Let's pray about it." So we did. I said I will put our place up for sale and if we sell it in a hurry, that will be our answer. Almost as soon as I said it, I had a buyer for it, so we felt that was our answer. On the 4th of September, 1890, we bade our friends, neighbors, and relatives good-by. I bought two almost new wagons, two of the best teams in the country, and an extra horse in case I might need one. I bought a tent and a good camp outfit, then we were ready for our long journey. I fixed our bed springs in the wagon so we could sleep on them. As there was not room for all of us in the wagon, we pitched the tent at night. We had camp chairs, a cupboard made in the back of the wagon and the door of the cupboard on the outside was made so it was let down and legs on hinges that would fall to the ground and hold it up for a table. We had a dutch oven to bake in. We had everything as comfortable as we could for the long journey.

A Mr. Willard Carroll and family accompanied us to Mexico. One of the Carroll boys drove one of my wagons. I was glad for his help. We saw some very pretty country and some that was dry and plain. Water was hard to find. Sometimes we would find in the natural rock tanks, filled with rain water. We enjoyed camping in the scenic places, but they were few and far between, which made our journey long and dreary at times.

When we got to Winslow, Arizona, Brother Carroll wanted us to go with him and charter a car and continue our journey by train, but I could not see doing that. We stopped in Woodruff for a few days to rest and visit some of our folks. While we were there, Brother Carroll returned and decided to stay with us and go by wagon. We continued on our journey and when we arrived at Thatcher, Arizona we had a visit with an old friend, Samuel Claridge, one of the first settlers in Orderville.

On account of the unusual rainy weather, the Gila River had not been crossed for three months. A few Indians crossed on horse back the day we crossed. If we waited until the next day, I don't know when we would have been able to cross because the next day it was swollen to the highest bank. We crossed in safety and were thankful. Another river we had to cross was the Colorado. It was crossed on a ferry boat which gave us a few moments of anxiety.

We continued on our journey through strange country. We had to buy all of our water, even the water for the horses, until we reached Colonia Diaz, Mexico. Our next stop was Demming, New Mexico where the custom house was located. We had to have everything listed with the Mexican Government that was dutiable. When I was all loaded, I found I had forgotten my tool box. I had put it down by the dash board, thinking it would be safe. While I was going, the horses were going a little too fast, so I went to put on the brake and that pushed the box down on the horses heels, which frightened them and they started running. The wheelers jumped into the stretchers of the lead horse and that threw him on his side and stopped the rest, for which I was thankful. We were nearing our destination, so I sold the extra horse. We came to the guards that told us what to do and all about themselves. They could not speak English and we could not speak Spanish so we got along fine.

We arrived at Colonia Diaz in November, We had been on the road seven weeks and were glad to have reached our destination. We stayed in Diaz for ten weeks, not knowing just where to settle. There were several brethren from Utah who were going up to the Casa Grandes Valley, where they had laid out a square mile town, so I went along. The men were Winslow Farr, Fred G. Williams, and Anso B. Call. When I returned, I took my family fifty miles farther up the country.

I purchased two city lots and built a three-roomed house on it. I had a chance to buy some land on the west side of the river from town. I moved our lumber house over on our farm at San Jose. We lived in Dublan about two years. They organized a Ward there. Winslow Farr was the Bishop. I was President of the M.I.A. I kept that position about three years, then I resigned because I lived so far from the church I couldn't do it justice. Sometimes the river would be so high I could not cross.

Dublan grew very fast, it soon became the largest Ward in the Stake. But water was scarce, the canal was not yet built. So the people began to go to other parts of the country. I didn't have much success in farming, so I accepted an invitation to go to Juarez to make shoes for a store. Dublan had a very nice climate, not too hot in the summer or too cold in the winter. If there had been enough water, it would have been an ideal place to live. But there were many years of drought to contend with. My wives kept on having children -- I was getting quite a family.

On July 10, 1912, late in the afternoon, the Bishop sent word to tell us we would have to leave and to meet the train that would take us to El Paso. All the Americans were driven out on account of the Revolution of the Mexican people against their government. The same year, the big canal was opened up and water was turned out on the land. Never in the twenty-two years we had lived in Mexico had we had such a bumper crop. We had to leave our fruit orchards of over a thousand bearing trees loaded with delicious fruit. The women had been canning fruit for several days. We were getting a good supply of eggs. I was running a thrashing machine and two headers. I had thrashed the wheat, but had not sold it yet. We had to walk out and leave everything except what we could pack in two trunks and our bedding.

When we got to El Paso we went to a large lumber shed that was provided by the City Officials. They gave everyone food and the Church Officials provided transportation to the people as fast as they knew where they wanted to go. After two weeks stay in the lumber shed, I found work and moved my families in some rented rooms for a few weeks. I sent them all on to Utah as fast as I could. Katie and Phoebe both had married children to go to. After they were gone, I went back to Mexico to see if I could get some money from my crops. I only collected $400.00 from my fruit, wheat and garden stuff.

After arriving in Utah, I started looking for a place to rent. I found one ten miles south of Salt Lake City in Holladay. There were fruit trees, all kinds of berries and farming land. I used to take my berries to Salt Lake to market them in the market place. I had so much to do on the farm it was impossible to do everything alone. The older boys were all off working and Evan was too small to do much, so Katie decided to market the fruit.

After a few years we moved to Sandy, but I was not satisfied there, so we moved to Toolele. I rented the Bower farm five miles from Toolele. After a year or two on the Bower farm, I decided I was working too hard for the amount of money they were paying me, so I asked for more. They would not give it to me.

One of the Stake Presidency knew about my condition and also knew about Clarkdale, Arizona Mining Company wanting to get an experienced farmer to run their farm. They would pay all expenses to go down and look the situation over. I decided to go. I examined the place over and saw some very nice crops. They said the smelter smoke didn't bother anything except the very tender plants. I could have everything I could raise for the first three years. It sounded very good, so I decided to try it. Evan was in Idaho working for his brother Edson, so I sent for him to come and help me move. We had eight head of horses and two covered wagons. We had everything we owned in the wagons. Our horses were in the very best condition and full of life. On our way through Utah, we stopped at our old home town of Orderville and visited friends. It brought back many memories. We were married there and raised part of our family there. When we got to Marysville, Katie got sick and I had to send her back to Sandy to stay with Delilah till we got located. The work and packing was too much for her.

I took the old road over the Buckskin Mountains that I took when I went to Mexico many years before. I didn't know they had built a new road and never used this one anymore. It was nothing but a cow trail. The dirt was all washed away from the rocks and they were sticking out like shelves almost straight up and down. We would have to put all the horses on one wagon to get to the top of the mountain. There we camped all night, it was a plateau on top. When we got to the bottom we had to reload the wagons. Everything was out of place. I was glad to get to the bottom.

There were some men at Rock House Valley who were very surprised to see us because no one ever came over that road any more. There was a terrible drought in the valley, no grass or feed of any kind. The water was bad, it served the horses like epsom salts serves people. The horses were skin and bones. We went on to the Colorado River and Lees Ferry. They were cutting hay there, so we were able to buy some for the horses. We spent a week there to let the horses rest and pick up. We bought all the hay and water we could, then crossed the Ferry. The water was very high, it was flood season. We crossed in safety and was glad to be on the other side.

There was a survey party on the other side. They made quite a fuss over us. They said they thought pioneering days were over. We went on our way, but learned later that while they were crossing, the ferry broke loose and everything went down the river. They were the next ones to cross after us.

We bought corn from the Indians on the Reservations. They would come and look us over and never say a word. One of the mares had a little colt they liked to look at. We would brag on their horses and themselves and it would please them very much. The horses were very thin by the time we got to Flagstaff. We still had to go down Schnebly Hill, which was very steep and narrow. Nothing could be any worse than the Buckskin Mountains, so we kept on our way. It took us two months to make the trip -- one never to be forgotten.

Evan and I worked very hard to get the farm in a condition so we could plant our crop. The first year they were very good. Then the smelter started up again and the smoke began to kill everything, so farming was not good. One Sunday our house burned down. We lost everything we had in the fire. The company built us another, but they could not replace our personal belongings.

Evan went to work on the highway and I did the best I could on the farm. In 1923 the missionaries came visiting in Clarkdale and Jerome. They organized a Branch there. At that time, this was in the California Mission. I was put in as Branch President for awhile. My hearing got bad so I decided I had better get out. Some of the brethren wanted to build a Tannery and asked me if I would teach them how to tan leather. They were very enthused at first until money had to be had to buy the supplies, then they lost interest. None of them stayed long enough to learn the business. We did build a tannery down on the Verde River where the root for making the tan was very plentiful.

Katie had to get out of the smoke, so she went to Mesa for awhile to stay with our daughters, Clara and Irene. After a time, we moved to Chino Valley, but neither of us cared for it out there, so we decided to go to Mesa. We bought a lot near the Temple and moved a small lumber house on it. We fixed it up very comfortable. Katie started working in the Temple. I still had some leather at the Verde that had to be finished. After that was done, I went to Mesa and made shoes in the day time and worked in the Temple in the evenings. I enjoyed life there for eighteen months. We were very happy.