By Sylvia Stout Carey
Mary Emma Langston, my mother, was the 7th child in a family of 13 children, the daughter of John Langston and Clearinda Rose Phillips Langston.
She was born in Alpine, Utah County, Utah, February 15, 1859. She married my father, Alfred Fisk Stout, on March 7, 1872 at the age of 13. He was 21. She was the mother of 15 children, four of whom died in infancy, one at the age of 2 ½ years.
She stayed with her parents the first year while father and her brother Frank worked in Salt Lake City. While with her parents, her mother taught her cooking, sewing and general housekeeping. Her older sister Clearinda was married the same month to father’s brother, Hosea F. Stout.
A year from the next September her first child-Mary Clearinda, was born and by the time she was 20 she had borne 5 children, two of whom were twins and three of whom had died-all girls. She had the heart-breaking trauma at that tender age of seeing these babies die in her arms. She was 44 years and 9 months old when her last child, #15 was born. All were born in Rockville except Ernest who was born near Mt. Carmel in Kane County where my father had a sawmill.
At the age of 3 her family and other families were called by President Brigham Young to go to Southern Utah and settle the area and grow cotton and other crops. The Langstons and the William Crawford family were the first families to settle in Rockville. There they tilled the soil, made ditches and did all the work pioneers in a new territory have to do.
Grandmother helped in all these tasks as Grandfather was not used to this type of work. He was an iron worker in London, his birthplace, and continued this work after coming to America.
She helped in all the field work, picked cotton, corded it, spinned it, and wove it into clothing for their children.
Father was a “lumber man” and owned sawmills long before I was born in 1892. He had a mill, at different times, at Mt. Trumbull near Mt. Carmel, and Swayzee Creek in the Longvalley area, one at Oak Creek Canyon in Millard County. He also had one on the mountains above Zion Canyon at Crystal Springs, and had part ownership in one on Zion Mountain.
After school was out in the spring he would move the family, provisions and cows, out to where the mill was located, and in the fall bring us back for school.
I remember plainly how we small ones of the family would trudge through the deep sand between Rockville and Longvalley picking up round, black volcanic rocks that had been eroded by time and winds, and take them home to play with as marbles.
It took several days to reach the mill so we had to camp out at night. Father would put a prop under the end of the wagon tongue and we made our beds on each side of the tongue, so all were near each other, and the horses were tied to the back of the wagon. We small children never feared at night when we heard the coyotes and wolves barking in the distance. We knew “Daddy and Ma” would take care of us.
One summer Father had a mill at Crystal Springs on top of Cedar Mountain. A huge grizzly bear had been killing small stock at the ranch. One Sunday morning they found a calf had been killed during the night, so they divided off and went in different directions to find and destroy the bear.
Father, and his young brother, John, got the trail and followed it for miles until the tracks got fresh and they knew he was near. Suddenly, they came to him behind a tall bush. He was so near he knocked Father’s gun from his hands and went for his neck. Father put his knee up to protect himself. The bear gnawed his knee and up and down his leg. John fired at the bear, careful not to hit father. He finally killed the bear, left father, and went back to the ranch to get help. Father dragged himself quite a distance before help arrived and took him back to the ranch. His boot was half full of blood when they arrived.
He laid on a pallet of quilts on the floor for three weeks. Mother took care of him, her small family of four, and cooked, etc., for the mill hands. But she brought him through and saved his life with only home remedies such as poultices and other old time remedies.
At one stage, he was in severe pain, moaning and delirious with fever. She went to him and looked at the wound. It had red, proud flesh, and streaks running up his leg almost to the groin. Mother went into her room and knelt down and asked God for help. She got up, put a pan of milk on the stove, and broke bread into it. Making poultices of this mixture, she put them on the wound. After a few applications, he calmed down and went to sleep. He survived, but always had a slight limp. It was through Mother’s care, faith and prayers, and his own strong, healthy body, that saved his life.
After Father quit the sawmill business, he peddled Dixie produce to the North, so Mother and the family were alone much of the time. She would go out with us and help knock down the fruit, bring it to the yard where we would cut, place it on trays, and put it out in the sun to dry.
These are the years I recall so well.
We then lived in a house on the south side of Rockville’s main street at the eastern end of town. A deep wash which ran down the eastern side of the property brought floods down from the mountains when it rained. We were comfortable and happy there. Father built a grape arbor behind the house, and an ice house which was never finished.
At this home we had cows, a couple of pigs and a few chickens. Also fruits and a garden to help with our living expenses.
Aunt Alice Dalton and Aunt Laura Dalton lived near and they and Mother used to get together occasionally at our place and have a cup of tea and visit. Grandmother sometimes joined them. I can visualize her trudging up the sidewalk with a shawl over her shoulders. She was stooped and bent with age and hard work. They would sit and visit and we children would play outside in the yard.
I would like to add more about Grandmother. She seemed to always have a cow and beehives, the only bees in town. She had home-churned butter and home-spun honey to go with her home-baked bread. She cared for the bees herself.
We children used to play in her yard or the street or the lane on the east of her home, and she would bring out big slices of salt rising bread, with butter and honey spread on them. How we loved it! She also had some early spring apples called “Golden Sweet” that were a real treat to all. Her life story, written by a capable writer, would fill a book with more tragedy, hard work, and suffering than one can imagine today.
Mother, too, had her tragedies. Along with losing so many babies in her early life, she had her greatest tragedy in 1908 when Lionel was killed by lightning on top of Zion Cable Mountain. He was 22 years old and was the pride and hope of the family. By his own labors and some help from Father, he had graduated that spring from the Branch Normal School at Cedar City with honors, and was to teach that fall in Rockville, hoping to help put Elmer and me through school.
He was especially gifted in music, and composed the music for his graduation class song. He also composed a number called “Pristine” and orchestrated it for all the instruments in the school orchestra. (“Pristine” meaning first.) He was also gifted in mathematics, and some of his classmates used to come to our place to have him help them.
Mother and Father bore this sad and shocking tragedy of Lionel’s death very bravely, but it was a terrible loss and trial to us all. Lionel, Elmer and I had attended the Branch Normal School the winter of 1907-08. The entire family moved to Cedar City for the winter and lived in a small part of what was called the “Leigh Row”. At mid-winter, sister Laura and her husband and family joined us as she was “expecting”.
Laura had Bright’s Disease and her doctor, Dr. Robison, wanted her to be near. At Christmas time, I came down with a severe case of Red Measles and was very ill for a week or 10 days. In time, all the children came down with it. All except Lionel who had had it, so he stayed with friends during the duration. We were 10 very sick youngsters-from 18 to two years of age. The air seemed thick with germs. However, we all survived, and little Baby Rena came to the Jones family the day we got out of quarantine.
After Lionel’s death, the family was devastated and did not know what to do. Mother and Father sent Elmer and me back to the Branch Normal School, and in November the family moved to Hinckley in Millard County.
Uncle Hosea invited us to come live with him and his family, hoping the trauma of Lionel’s death would fade. They, the family, would be of help to him and his family, as his wife, Aunt Clin, had died some time before.
We lived with him for a year or so, then moved into our own home.
I stayed in school in Cedar City until Christmastime. Thinking that keeping the two of us in school was too much of a burden for my parents to carry, I left and joined them in Hinckley. There, after some time, I got a job clerking in the General Merchandise Store where I worked for several years under three different owners.
Later, Father built a four room house in the northeast part of town, and they lived there until 1918 when they moved to Provo, Utah. I had married in 1912, and Elmer and Ernest had also married, so only Tracy, Homer and Afton were still unmarried.
Their home in Provo was at 9th South and 1st East. Tracy, cousin Francis, and a friend, Richard Lyman, had volunteered in the Army for World War I, and were sent to California. In California Tracy met and married Leah Jones. They, the young men, were sent to France. A short time later, Homer and Alvin, Laura’s oldest son, went to Nitro West, VA to work for the government. After working several months, they returned home. They came on the railroad, and at one stop they got off to get a drink of water and Homer lost his ticket. He had to hitchhike his way home. He often lived for days on wheat he got from farms along the way. At one town he got a job at a paper mill and worked long enough to take him a few miles further west. At Denver he wired home for a ticket home. Father got enough money and wired it to him. A young man-a supposed friend-picked up the cash and took off. So Homer was stranded again-broke and alone. He got in touch with us at Provo and father sent another ticket. It was a happy reunion when he arrived at the Provo depot very tired and worn. Another long and worrisome trial for Mother and Father.
While living in Provo both Homer and Afton got married, Homer to Ada Baker, and Afton to Druzella Madsen. All the boys-Elmer, Tracy, Homer and Afton, moved to California and went into the tire business.
At this time the oldest members of the family were living in Southern Utah. Alfred (Top) and his family lived in Hurricane; Mary (Mane) and Laura and their families, lived in Rockville. My family and I lived in Provo and Salt Lake City.
Mother and Father visited the boys in California in 1924. Father was awed and fascinated by what he saw-the Pacific Ocean, the numerous ships in the Bay, the countless homes, the population and endless cars. He would sit for hours outside the boys’ tire shop eating oranges and watching cars go by. He enjoyed it all very much.
In the spring Father came back home to Provo, then went down to Hurricane to take care of some business. Here he took sick and Mother rushed home to him. He suffered terribly for months and she was by his side always. He died November 20, 1925 in Hurricane at Top’s and Dora’s home. It was another heartbreak for Mother after sharing a marriage of 53 years and 15 children together. Father was 75 the previous March 9. We took him to Rockville-where most of his life had been spent-to rest beside Lionel.
Mother stayed in Hurricane with Top and Dora for some time. Laura (Laul) and Mane visited her occasionally and she with them in Rockville. Later, she came to Salt Lake City and stayed with us a few weeks, and also visited California, staying with the boys. There, in 1929, she took very ill and was in the Peralta Hospital in Oakland and Alta Bates Hospital in Berkeley, for weeks. She did not want to die away from Utah. One night two others of the family and I were staying all night with her as we feared she would not live through the night. We had the Elders come and administer to her. They promised her she would live and go back to Utah. She did recover and lived nine more years.
After a slow recovery, my husband and I took her to stay with us at a town near Death Valley, California, a soda plant where my husband was office manager. She stayed with us for a few months and then we took her back to Hurricane in 1930. She lived there with Top and Dora the rest of her life.
Mother died in her sleep after a 3-day illness, on February 2, 1938. I cannot stress too strongly her loving disposition, her optimism in all things, her adjustability to all circumstances. She did not preach except by example.
She never punished in anger, but when we deserved it, we got a little lecture and a few swats across the legs with a tingly willow.
She was always there when really needed and was there to help when my first four children were born. I’m sure she would have been there when our last two were born, but she was in California when #5 was born, and we in California and she in Utah when our #6 was born.
Mother helped bring many of Rockville’s babies into the world while she lived there. There were no doctors, so mid-wives and helpers took care of mothers in those days. Before I was old enough to remember, she served as Rockville Ward Relief Society President for four years. After moving to Hinckley, she served as Senior Teacher in YLMIA for some time, and at Provo, was Visiting Teacher as long as she lived there.
I once wrote a sonnet to her memory which said:
“She often sang through misty tears
To hide from us her grief, her fears.
Nor moaned for things that ‘might have been.’
I ought to know-I’m number ten.”
She stood 5 ft. 5 in. in her prime. She had one grey eye and one blue, not noticeable unless she was sick or not feeling well. Her health was generally good except for occasional migraine headaches. These were very severe.
Everyone who knew her loved her and she was revered by all her family.
At the time of her death at age 79, Mother’s mind was sharp and keen. She read and was avidly interested in local and national news. She showed no signs of senility. I have a letter written to me a week before her death and it is clear, concise and legible.
Mother died February 2, 1938. She rests beside my Father and Lionel in the Rockville Cemetery.
Compiled and written by her daughter, Sylvia Stout Carey at the age of 87 ½ years, June 1979.
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