FLORENCE MATILDA BOWLER TRUMAN
(As told to her granddaughter, Florence Cannon Lamb, March 5, 1962)
I was born March 17, 1875 at Henry Street in Nottingham, England, a daughter of James Samuel Page and Matilda Hill Bowler. Older brothers and sisters in order were Harry Hill, Jimmie (James Samuel, who died at the age of four years of brain fever - Ma always said she thought it was having to go to school when he was so young that really caused his death. Dad always called him 'Chap' and that was the last word he ever said, 'dad's Chap'). Next in line. Ann Elizabeth (Lizzie), John Henry, Kate, Mary Ann, then I was next, Walter Wallace, Francis Joseph - all born in England. One more child, George Hebron born after we arrived in Hebron,
We left England in November 1880 to go to Utah. Father had promised a missionary, Zera Terry, that he would came to Hebron with his family and help the people by leading the choir. He had led a chair in England for many years and was once told by Mission Pres. Joseph F. Smith that he "had the finest Choir in the European Mission." It took us three weeks to cross the ocean because the ship, the Wisconsin, got off its course. I remember the meetings we had in the evenings on board ship with the Elders taking charge of the singing, prayers, and talks and the Captain told Father that he always felt safer when the Elders were on board ship.
My father's mother (Ann Elizabeth Taylor), I don't know about his father (John Bowler), was very religious and would walk as far as 18 miles to get to a Mormon Conference. My father was born in the Church but my mother was not baptized until I was 6 months old. The only memory I have of my maternal grandparents was an incident that happened one day when we had gone to visit them and grandma had fixed a piece of bread and jam and as we were going out the door (Kate, Annie & I) we met grandpa coming in. He looked at us and said, "Better be careful, you might drop that on your toes and break them."
I remember (one of my earliest memories) as we were coming from New York to Utah on the train, there were stacks of sacked corn and Ma said they were used for fuel.
Ma used to tell me of some of her experiences while we were living in England. We had to go to school when we were three and one half years old and when my little brother Walt started, he cried to go home and the teacher made him hold out his hand and she hit it with the ruler. We both cried then and I didn't like her after that.
Ma said that once she thought she'd like to open the window upstairs a little and let in some fresh air. She had no more than opened it when she heard a knock on the front door -- it was a "Bobby" (police officer) telling her to close her window, he didn't want her to tempt burglars. Another time, she decided to hang her clothes outside to dry. I think it was that afternoon that she went to get them they had all been stolen. We children had to stay right in the house all the time except when we were in school.
Ma always said she knew her parents, Joseph and Mary Ainsworth Hill, would have joined the Church had they heard about it because they had such good principles. She said her father said he felt like he was always looking for something and that he sometimes felt so strongly about baptism that he felt like going to the river and immersing himself. My mother had their work done.
I remember going to a Carnival once in England with my cousin, Emily Curtis. Her parents were Will and Mary Hill Curtis, and I wanted to ride on something but I was afraid to. Once I went to tend some children while their mother went on an errand A clothes horse covered with clothes stood in front of the fireplace. Just as the mother came home the clothes horse was knocked over and some of the clothes fell in the fire and were burned. Years later. I asked my mother if this incident had really happened or had I dreamed or imagined it, a said "Yes, it really happened, I had to pay for the clothes that were ruined."
Another time, I remember going on an errand to a lady's house. While there, I saw the picture of a man. Childlike I said, "That's the picture of my cousin, Tom Ainsworth." "Oh, that couldn't be your cousin, why he is a famous artist," the lady said. When I got home, I told mother of the incident and she said, "He is your cousin and he is a famous artist. He's painted a picture of Queen Victoria and also one of himself by looking in a mirror."
When we reached the Custom Office, it seems like they called it 'Castle Gardens', before entering the US at New York City, I remember Ma putting a fancy little hood and jacket on me. It was one she was bringing over for one of the missionaries who was sending it to his folks. I remember feeling pretty smart in it and wishing I had an outfit like it.
We arrived in Utah in March 1881 (Erma Bowler Bracken has pointed out that in JSP Bowler’s history and in Orson W. Huntsman’s history the arrival date in Utah was in the latter part of November 1880. We believe that the 1880 date is probably the correct one.) and I started school the next fall. My teacher was Julia Westover and it seemed to me like she was the meanest woman that ever lived. When I tried to read I couldn't speak American English like the other children but talked in Old English. She would hit me with a ruler and make me stand with my face to the wall in the corner. I remember some of the boys trying to get her to let me come out of the corner, The more she tried to force me to talk like the other children, the worse I got.
My second teacher was Dan Tyler, one nicest men I ever knew. (It was his father who wrote the history of the Mormon Battalion. )
When my folks decided to move back to Salt Lake City, after we'd been in Hebron about a year, Lizzie and I stayed with some friends of my parents, John and Esther Pulsipher. I loved the carefree life of those days and I knew every nook and cranny of the place we called Little Pine Valley (the lower Enterprise Reservoir now covers the place where we lived.) Pulsiphers homesteaded the place and they had a big dairy. I had the use of a little pony, Billy we called him, and I rode him everywhere; whenever I dream of the past it is of those happy carefree days.
"Aunt" Esther used to rock and sing to me and she always made a big fuss over me end said I reminded her of the little girl she had lost. After about a year of staying with the Pulsiphers, my sister Lizzie, age 15, married their son, John David. Father came down to St. George and went to the Temple with them. I went to Salt Lake when they went up for a visit and I stayed there with my folks. We lived in the 17th Ward. My father worked at a shoe factory. Every day I took his lunch to him. I'd ride up on the street car, which was pulled by mules, and I could have walked faster. I'd walk home and I always made it a point to walk past George Q. Cannon's house because I'd heard so much about him. Father would usually give me a nickel to spend for candy or fruit or something. One day I passed a place that smelled so strongly of plums it made me homesick for southern Utah. I went in and bought a few.
Up on the hill from where we lived was a family named Hunt. The husband worked on the railroad. They had no children so whenever the lady could she would get me to stay with her and when we moved back to Hebron she tried to get my folks to let her keep me and adopt me.
My sister Kate lived with Wilford and Phoebe Woodruff and when we were going to move, Sister Woodruff came and tried to get the folks to let them keep her and let her go to school. I remember how Sister Woodruff cried and cried because Ma wouldn't let her. Later Ma regretted that she didn't because she thought Kate's life would have been much happier. While she was living with them, sometimes she would come home and visit us and then Annie and I would go home with her and we'd help her wash the dishes. I remember how nice Bro. Woodruff was. He was everything I thought a man should be. When his book "Leaves from my Journal" came out, I read every word of it and it was through reading this, I believe I learned to pray.
Kate married Charles Zera Pulsipher when she was 16. He was a grandson of the Zera Pulsipher who had baptized Wilford Woodruff.
Some of my girl friends used to go and stay with their grandmother, Mary Brown Pulsipher, wife of Zera Pulsipher, and I remember her teaching me the song, "Come Let Us Anew" - all the words to the three verses and I never forgot them. She also taught me to read the Book of Mormon. Father sometimes said I was the most religious child he had and if I was, it was because she had taught me so much.
I had only been in Salt Lake about a year when my family moved back to Hebron. I was really happy. A while before we moved back, I got quite sick and I heard Ma tell Father that she believed I was homesick and I know that was it.
When I was about 14 I was staying with my sister Lizzie and her husband, John David, who was living at his grandfather Zera Pulsipher's place at Little Pine Valley for the summer. Billy Truman and his wife came up during the summer to help run the dairy and Billy's brother Bert came to visit them. Mame Laub and I would talk and laugh about him and I told him I might see him when I went down to my sister Kate's wedding in Gunlock, and I did. He looked so much better and stronger than any of the other young men I'd ever seen. He would come up to Hebron occasionally and I thought maybe it was to see me, but he wouldn't let me know it if he did.
When I was only 15, Father was going to Hebron to teach school and Bert offered to take him up so he could ask him to marry me. Father said for us to wait another year because Lizzie had married at 15 and he had decided that that was too young. This was in the fall so we waited until the next March. I was 16 on the 17th and we were married on the 26th of that month in the St. George Temple (1891). We left the old Co-op store just as the Tabernacle clock struck two. We traveled in a covered wagon and arrived in Gunlock at 10 p.m. that night. We had to weave back and forth across one wash and then another and the horses were traveling at a lively speed. Both of our mothers were with us. We stayed with my folks that night and then moved to a place just below Gunlock, known as the 'Truman Field' which Bert bought from my father. We built a shed out of cottonwood limbs and put a wagon box by the side and we lived in the shed and put our perishables, such as sugar and flour in the wagon box so they wouldn't get wet when it rained. We raised beans and molasses (our main crop) and some fruit and vegetables. We had a cow so we had plenty of milk and butter. In the fall we took our beans and molasses down to the factory in Washington, it was sort of a trading post. In exchange for produce, we got cloth, fruit jars, brooms, material for bedding, etc.
In the fall we moved to Gunlock and lived in a little room that had been Joseph Huntsman's granary. Many babies were born in this room. It was about the only house available and people coming to town for the winter would live in it, rent free. Our first baby, Elizabeth Matilda, was born there the 27th of Jan., 1892. In the spring, we moved back to the field and built a log room, or house, out of the limbs of old cottonwood, I believe. George Laub helped dad build it. Indians would stop on their way from the Indian Farm enroute to Pine Valley and out on the desert to hunt deer. I was awfully frightened of them and when they would ask to stay there when dad was gone, I didn't dare let them stay and I didn't dare tell them they couldn't. When I'd tell them they couldn't, I'd worry all night about what they might do, I was always good to them and they were quite peaceable.
We always went to Gunlock for Church every Sunday. In the fall, we moved back to Gunlock to the same granary room. Back again to the farm in the spring and Billy, dad's brother, and his wife Jane built a log room just across from us. Again we went to the factory. We had dried a lot of fruit which we traded for sugar. etc., at Woolly, Lund and Judd's store. Dad got a chance to take a load of dried fruit up to Milford and bring back dry goods for the store. In the fall, we moved back to Gunlock and stayed with Grandma Truman. In the spring, Feb. 2, 1894, Esther was born. That spring we moved to Hebron and dad went to Delamar to work for awhile. He spent most of the following year there and in Pioche working. The next summer he worked helping to build the Enterprise Reservoir. I raised a little garden but water was so scarce end it was so dry it was hard to raise much. We were pretty poor then. John Day started a store in Enterprise and we'd go down there to buy what we needed. More than once our only light was a rag dipped in grease on a saucer. We called it a 'bitch'. The (next) winter was so cold our chickens froze to death. Snow was so deep we could walk over the fences.
Dad had to go to Pioche to work much of the time and it was so cold and I'd be so blue and lonely and cold. I'd have to carry water a half mile to wash. We'd wash on a wash board and boil our clothes on the stove in a boiler. Mary was born the 12th of May (1896) just two years and three months after Esther was born. Our life was hard during those days. Once in a while three or four women would go down to the store in Enterprise in a wagon. Aunt Zine (Lasina Truman), my brother John's wife, usually drove the team. We existed in poverty for another two or three years until Bert was born the 30th of December (1898) about two years and 8 months after Mary.
When Bert was about 8 months old, my brother Harry, who was going on a mission to Texas (around Galveston) came to Hebron and we had a dance for him. Then Dad and I and Father took him to Modena to the train. While we were eating lunch it made its' trip to Uvada (the end of the line then) and back again. Harry told us we could live in his house in Gunlock (a two-roomed lumber one) while he was gone if we wanted to, so we moved down there. We did have plenty to eat - it was a good lot and I raised the garden - Dad went away to work again, back to Nevada, I guess. We lived there for about a year (my mother, Matilda Hill, died from pneumonia in Dec.). Father wanted me to come and live and keep house for him and my three unmarried brothers, Walter, George and Francis, so I moved in with them the rest of the winter and summer. Then my brother Francis, got married and brought his new wife home.
Mable was born the 29th of May, 1901. In October we moved to Mesquite, Nevada. There were only three houses there at the time. There were several families living in tents and sheds. Dad had bought a house from a man who was moving to Mexico. We lived there until after Richard (Dick) was born, Sept. 22, 1903. Then we sold that place and moved on to a piece of land with nothing but brush and sand and a one room shack. We had more poverty as the land would not raise anything. Dad had sold the other place without even telling me and the man who bought it came and told me I had to be out by the 15th. I wasn't well and hadn't been since Dick's birth. He said he'd move me but I said if I moved, Dad would have to do it. So Dad came in and moved me into that shack where we spent the winter. The kids all had measles and were quite sick. Then it rained, I'd have to put pans, cans, and buckets to catch the water. I'd sit up all night some nights to keep a fire so it wouldn't be so cold. I don't know how we ever survived.
Father, hearing of my poor health and perhaps dire circumstances, asked us to come to Gunlock and spend the summer; so we went and stayed at Father's for a while until my sister Kate and her husband, Charles (Chot), told us we could live in their house as they moved to the ranch in the summer. Once again we had all the fruit and garden stuff we could eat. With the help of the children I dried quite a bit of fruit and we had that to take back to Mesquite with us. Dad was off someplace to work but I wonder where his money went as we never saw any of it. I had an awfully hard time keeping the children in school.
In the spring following another winter in Mesquite, Dad came home one day and said, "I've bought the Ike Burgess place for you and your birthday." It was a solid built one room house with a good lot and a few fruit trees. We bought a few chickens so we had a few eggs along. Dad went to the sawmill up on the mountain from Mesquite to get lumber to build on to this one room, but he let Bishop Abbott have the first load and before he got any more, he went to work riding, for Steve Bunker.
I was feeling quite contented thinking we were going to stay when one night he came home and said he had sold out to Aaron (Ain) Leavitt and was going to move to the Beaver Dams and run Steve Bunker's place together with Steve's son Ben. So again we moved, this time up to a one roam rock dwelling which was small for our large family. Ben didn't stay long and soon let his share go to Sam Reber, who moved there. He moved into the rock room and I had to move into a little board room. It was getting warm so I could have my stove outside.
The third of July Dad came with Charles Pulsipher with a team and covered wagon to move us, everything we had, back to Gunlock. Imagine how much we could load in that wagon. We had a good milk cow so the older children took turns walking and driving the cow. I had to leave some of my choice keepsakes and wedding presents and I never did get them. Chairs, beds, cupboards and a dresser, we had to leave. Later on Will Bunker brought me my rocking chair and cupboard. Always when we left a place, I'd have to leave something of value and Dad would always promise to get them but he never did. We moved into a log room with a lean-to built in the early days by Dudley Leavitt. Bishop Frank Holt had bought it and he let us live in it. Rodney was born here the 16th of October, 1906. In the spring, Dad traded some cattle he had earned from Steve Bunker for a place on the Bigelow Ranch. He went in with Amos Hunt.
Before Dad got around to moving us up, Amos's family moved into the two room board house that was on the place. We moved into a board granary. As usual we were going to build but never did. Talk about neighbors! Well, I don't like to talk about people but that was one time I was glad to move. It was during the year we spent there that I lost a still-born baby. Sell Bracken's wife had a baby about the time I lost mine and she died so I took the baby, Claudie, and raised him until he started to school and then his father came for him and it was a sad day for us. It was just like losing one of our own children. As he went to get in the wagon, Claudie said, "Come on, Mama." He cried all night that night. The next morning I sent Dad and Bert up to see how he was getting along and when they came back, Bert had him in his arms. He just fell into my arms. We kept him off and on then until he was in the 7th grade and he stayed occasionally after that. We moved from the Bigelow Ranch to the Magotsu Ranch. Dad went to Pine Valley to the sawmill to get lumber to build us quite a nice four room house. Mattie went to Enterprise to work and Esther to Central to work so that left me alone except for the little children and I was quite lonesome some of the time but we had lots of visitors coming by on their way to and from Enterprise and we really enjoyed having them. I really grew to love the place.
I had been sick for three days and Dad's sister, Emma Holt, who was a mid-wife, came to help me as I was expecting a baby. I wasn't getting along as I should so they called Bishop Thomas S. Terry (who had stopped to spend the night with us) in to administer to me and he promised me that I would have a child who would live and be a comfort to me in my old age. Father sat on one side and James Bunker an the other. Father must have looked pretty sad because Bro. Bunker said, "Remember what Bishop Terry Said." A few hours later Phyllis was born, (August 23, 1911). Tears rolled down the cheeks of the two.
When Phyllis was two, I had another baby born in Gunlock. Altho' we usually waited about a month to have our babies named, this time I felt it should be done sooner so we had her named in a week. Helen Marie was the name we gave her and she died shortly afterward. She seemed to be just fine on the day she was named but the next day, Monday, when I went to feed her, she was dead.
The winter Phyllis was old enough to go to school, we moved to St. George for the winter. We bought a house from Joseph K. Nicholes that had been built by my only Aunt (her husband, I should say had built it) in this country, my father's sister, Mary Ann B. Blake. I liked it here and felt very much at home. Every Tuesday my Aunt would come and have dinner and tea with me.
On September 22, 1917 my eleventh child, Viola, was born and I had Dr. Frank Woodbury wait on me. It was the first time I had had a doctor. I was in bed five weeks and was very miserable with what they called milk leg. When I got so I could move around, we moved to the ranch for the summer. The kids, Bert, Mabel, Richard, Rod and Phyllis would go to St. George in the winter to go to school. After the fall work was done, I'd go down and keep house for them.
We lived here (Aunt's former home) for about three years and then one day Bro. Johnny Jones (originally from Enoch) came and told me Dad had traded our place to him for a place up in 'Sand Town' (the northwest part of St. George). I told him I wasn't going to move but I had no choice and I always hated the "big barn" of a place and the neighborhood and I still do. I still have the house but it is so far from my folks that I haven't been able to stay there for a long time.
Dad had hardening of the arteries and for several years before his death he was sort of out of his mind. He got so unmanageable and even mean at times that we finally had to take him to Utah State Hospital where he died of a heart attack about twenty months
later.In about 1947 my face was looking worse than usual (Dr. McGregor had been treating it for about five years). I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when it seemed to me that I heard a still small voice whisper to me to quit drinking that coffee and my face would be healed. I got up immediately and threw the remainder of it in the sink and have not had a drink of coffee from that day to this. In the meantime, I've had some interesting experiences connected with the experience. The next day I went to visit Phyllis and she commented on how bad my face looked. About that time Uncle France (my brother) came in and she mentioned to him how bad it looked. He said he was going up to Dr. Cowan (he was a cancer specialist but I had never before heard of him) the 23rd of September. "Why don't you make an appointment with him and you can go up with me." She then called Dr. McGregor and made an appointment with him. When he saw my face, he said I'd better have an appointment with Dr. Cowan. so I told him about France going up, so he made it so I could go up with him. I went and Dr. Cowan had a little trouble clearing it up but he was finally able to and I haven't been bothered with it since and that was fifteen years ago. I go up to Salt Lake to see him twice a year.
During this time I was visiting with my daughter Viola in Las Vegas one winter when I became quite ill. Early one morning my nose started to bleed and was soon hemorrhaging. The Dr. came and doctored me and still it bled. He said he'd done everything he knew to do so I told Viola I'd like to have the Elders come and administer to me. Elder Monson(?), Elder Ether Leavitt and Elder Ford came and administered and while they were doing it, my nose stopped bleeding. One of the Elders said I'd better have the Dr. but Viola said they'd already had the Dr., Elder Ford said I wouldn't need a doctor. He also expressed amazement at the faith manifest there that evening. Elder Ford promised me at that time that the righteous desires of my heart would be fulfilled. My desire is that my children will come to know and love and live the Gospel so they can find true happiness. I have never had any more trouble with my nose bleeding since that time.
During my life I've been a Relief Society teacher, I've worked quite a lot in the Temple and I've had many inspirational experiences. One morning I woke up feeling quite depressed, so as I knelt down to say my prayers, I prayed that my family would be protected that day. Then I felt better. Later I found out that that morning there had been a bad explosion at the White Star mill where Dick was working. Several men were very seriously injured. Brick was flying in every direction and those who were there marveled that Dick had not been killed but he was uninjured. I feel that the Lord has blessed me so many times I can't count the times.
I've stayed in Santaquin quite a bit during the last few years where I've made many friends among them President Patten, who called on me to bear my testimony in Conference October 6, 1963. I felt so miserable I didn't know if I could but I was able, with the help of the Lord, to do it. Without that help I would not have been able. I am grateful for my blessings, the kindness of my loved ones, especially these last few years when I have spent time visiting around with them.
(Florence M. Bowler died at age 90 at Caliente, Nevada. She was buried in Gunlock, Utah.)
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TO MY DAUGHTER FLORENCE MATILDA ON HER 54th BIRTHDAY
My Dear Florence, Our Baby Girl
No longer is your hair in curl.
But rather is it streaked with gray
On this your 54th glad birthday.Early in childhood, you bid Adieu
To your native land - fair to view
Braving dangers on land and sea,
To dwell in quiet amity.The desert wild, so strange to you
With sage-bush, campfire boundless view
Adapting you to present mode.
A foretaste of your new abode.Hebron is reached, Saturday night,
Tired, sleepy, but where the light?
Hastily spreading quilts on the floor
You slept that night as ne'er before.Morning darned in your new abode
With, Indian wigwam, across the road
For Sunday School you soon prepare
Welcome greetings await you there.So life's journey beacons you on,
Subject to changes here and yen,
Children, grandchildren greet you now;
Greatest prize of marriage vow.By J.S.P. Bowler
Gunlock. UtahThis was written to my Grandmother Truman by her father who was a school teacher among other occupations. This was given to Nellie Rae by Francis Elmer Robbins.
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A TRIBUTE TO FLORENCE BOWLER TRUMAN
by Grace Miller Twltchell( This talk was given at Florence Bowler Truman's funeral by Grace Miller Twltchell. A copy of the talk was given to Erma B. Bracken a few days after the funeral. Erma has given a copy to be included here in the second printing of this book on the Truman Family and we thank her for it.)
Today I am happy for the opportunity to pay tribute to a very dear friend Sister Florence Truman. Our friendship has been a long and happy one and we have loved each other. No better and sweeter woman has ever lived than Sister Truman. I must have been about 10 years of age when the Truman family moved into the house next to us. From then to now their joys have been my happiness and their sorrows have made me sad. Thousands are the hours that I have spent visiting with Sister Truman, in the summer sitting on the porch of the old house and in the winter time, inside by the fire.
I used to get milk from the Perry Lang's, next door to the Truman's. When I was gone longer than was necessary to get the milk my children would say, "Oh, she is visiting with Sister Truman." And they were right. After my home was built across the street from the Truman home I would run over and say, "Come on over, Sister Truman, I am ironing. Come over and visit while I work." I treated her just like I did my own parents and when I was fixing meals that I could share with them I also counted Sister Truman in. One day the children came back from taking a bowl of chili and a hat biscuit to Sister Truman and said, "Mother, did you know that Sister Truman's sister was there with her?" I had not seen Aunt Lizzie. came, but I sent them back with more food. In the afternoon when I went over, Aunt Lizzie said, “I told Florie that Grace didn't know I was here when the children came with food for just one.” Sister Truman has been very dear to me.
I would like to mention several things that have come into the life of Sister Truman which made her the wonderful person she is. She was born In England. When the Bowler family had 8 children they emigrated to the United States and came to Utah. They had long been members of the LDS church and Brother Bowler had promised a missionary, Zera Terry, that If they came to Zion they would come to Hebron to live. Sister Truman was 5 years of age when the family made that historic trip. She remembered the ocean trip with the Father worked for their passage and saw very little of the family on the journey. They were all seasick and the Mother and Lizzie cared for them. They had never been out of a city before and it was quite an undertaking for them. The mother kept track of the children by counting them off 2-4-6-8.
Shortly after arriving in the United States, George the youngest son was born. Their friends tried to persuade them to stay in Salt Lake City but they had promised to came to Hebron so they came by train to Milford. At first there was no one to meet them but soon a man arrived with a team and wagon. He had been sent by the people of Hebron to meet them. The first night out on the desert Brother Bowler said they didn't know where they would sleep. After the teamster had prepared supper over a campfire he spread quilts on the ground for their beds. This was all new to them. Brother Bowler said shortly after they had retired for the night that "the denizens of the wild set up such a howl" as they had never heard before and sleep was gone for that night. They were 3 days on the journey from Milford to Hebron. Brother Bowler taught school in Hebron for several years. He then decided to go to Salt Lake and try making a living for the family there with his shoemaking trade. Sister Truman was left in Hebron with the Henry Barnum family. They were very good to her. One time she said to me, "If I ever get to Heaven the sweetest sound I will ever hear will be Uncle Hen Barnum singling to me as he did when he rocked me and sang to me when I was a little girl.
After Aunt Lizzie married John David Pulsipher and moved to Mesquite, Sister Truman stayed with her some. She married Bert Truman when she war l6 years old. They lived in Mesquite and Gunlock and then moved to the Ranch on the Magotsu. Here Brother Truman farmed and had cattle. Here the cowboys would come and stay for a night and sometimes several days while they rounded up their cattle. Here they would find a good hot meal after they had spent a hard day in the saddle. Here too, the traveler always found a welcome with a good meal and a bed. Her home truly became "A House By the Side of the Road." Many times Brother Truman was away for some time and she had the farm, chores, and family to care for alone. It was a constant struggle on the farm, but she carried on and did all she could for her children.
When ! think of the great love that Sister Truman had I always think of how after she had 7 children of her own and had lost a baby, she took Claude Bracken when his mother died. She nursed him and cared for him for several years until his Father decided he was old enough to go back and live with his family. It broke her heart to part with Claude. She used to tell me how Rod would carry Claude on his back around the fields so Claude wouldn't hurt his bare feet on the rocks and stubble. Rod saved his money and used to beg his Mother to ask Uncle Sell if they couldn't buy Claude. Claude has always visited Sister Truman and showed his appreciation for what she did for him.
After they moved to St. George I remember the many people who came to stay overnight or sometimes weeks with the Trumans. The family members who came to work in the Temple and the students who lived there while they went to school. I especially remember Erma, Estella, Metta, Lova and Page when they lived there. I am sure they remember the many meals they had at her table and the many kindnesses she did for them. Much of the time the old house was full from the basement to the upstairs porch. Again her home was a "House by the Side of the Road" especially for the Bowler and Truman families.
Death has come many times to this family. I remember many a birth in the old house, some of the children lived and some of them died. I remember too, the death of Wanda, the little daughter of Bert and Ruth. She died when they were living in the basement of the old house and I was just a child. Since her family has grown to maturity and married, Sister Truman has had four children die: Dick who left 4 little children; Mable who left 5 little ones; Mattie whose family were not all married; and Esther, who had several not married. Then she has had death came to 5 of her in-laws: Ruth who she loved as a daughter; Royal, brutally murdered; June, killed in a car accident , and Chet, and last, Gaylie. Through all of this Sister Truman has showed her fortitude and courage and her faith has sustained her and she has gone bravely on.
During the time of Brother Truman's Illness, before his death, she was patient and understanding with him and did all possible to care for him. I have always said she has preached many a sermon without saying a word in the way she has carried on in the face of trials. Her faith was strong and abiding and she knew she would see her loved ones again.
We place monuments of stone to remember our loved ones by but the monument that will always endure is not of stone. It is the monument that we carry in our hearts. I am sure that in the hearts of each of us there is such a monument to Sister Truman. As long as I live I will remember and my children, who have loved her too, will also carry this monument with them. Each child, grandchild and great-grandchild who knew her has a like monument. Her children have been good to her. She has spent much time the part few years with Mary at Pioche and Phyllis here. She has always enjoyed her visits with Florence and Josephine at Santiquin and often spoke of the goodness shown her by them and their husbands. Now as she leaves us we can best continue to honor her by living, as she lived, to the best of our ability and emulating the example she set for us.
I have always felt that Temple Bailey's "A Little Parable for Mothers" was very typical of Sister Truman. I would like to close with that.
The young Mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is the way long?" she asked, And the Guide said, "Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning.But the young Mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and life was good, and the young Mother cried, “Nothing will ever be better than this.”
When night came, and storm, and the path was dark and the children shook with fear and cold, and the Mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, "Oh, Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come." And the Mother said, "This is better than the brightness of day, for I have taught my children courage.”
And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed, and when they reached the top, they said, “We could not have done it without you Mother." And the Mother, when she lay down that night, looked up at the stars and said, “Thls is better than the last, for my children have learned fortitude In the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage, today I have given them strength.”
And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth--clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled and the Mother said, "Look up. Lift up your eyes to Light." And the children looked and saw above the clouds the Everlasting Glory, and it guided them and brought them beyond the darkness. And that night the Mother said, "This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God."
And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the Mother grew old, and she was little and bent. But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was hard, they helped their Mother, and when the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond the hill they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And the Mother said: "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know that the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them.”
And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates." And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said, "We cannot see her, but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence.”
Amen.