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A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANDREW MILTON PULSIPHERAs remembered by a daughter Cleone, and wife, Sarah Leavitt Pulsipher.
Arranged by Mrs. Terry Lund - May, 1953
Andrew Milton Pulsipher was born November 21, 1867, in Hebron, Washington County, Utah, the fifth child of Martha Ann Hughes Pulsipher and the 17th child of Zerah Pulsipher.
Andrew or, Andy, lived in Hebron until he was about five years old. When his father died his mother married Dudley Leavitt, Sr., as his fifth wife and went to live in Gunlock and later Bunkerville, Nevada.
The Muddy Mission at Bunkerville was a difficult one indeed. Andy shared in the privations and hardships of this locality, along with his many step brothers and sisters. When he reached the marriageable age, he chose to keep company with Sarah Rebecca Waite, who was born January 17, 1877, and came to Bunkerville with her parents when she was just a child. They were married in the St. George Temple and then went back to Bunkerville to make their home, living in the Waite house.
They had been married but three months when she took sick with what was known a ruptured appendix. A strange little incident concerning her sickness goes something like this: One morning early, Andy and List Leavitt were preparing to go to the hills to do some riding, Andy was at List’s place when he heard the sound of cow bells so distinctly in his ears that he thought there must be some cows in his corn at home.
He excused himself to Lister, saying he would go see about it. On arriving in view of his corn patch, he saw no cows, but he could still hear the sound of the bell! It seemed to come from the house. He went in and found his young wife in excruciating pain and agony making pitiful moans. It seems there were neighbors already there trying to ease the pain, but to no avail and she died early in the afternoon.
Think what you will about the sound of the bells, but to the family members it was a premonition sent by a Higher Power to the young husband to let him know he was needed at home.
After her burial, Andy’s grief was almost inconsolable; he would sit for hours with his head in his hands. It seemed that the sun had gone out of his sky.
It was early in 1900 that he became interested in a young widow woman, Sarah Mariah Leavitt Hansen. She was the daughter of Dudley Leavitt and the wife (widow) of John Peter Hansen whom she had married and been sealed to in the Temple. She had three small children.
One day Sarah was at her home working around the yard, she was singing lustily some of her favorite songs when Andy appeared on the scene. When he made some comment on her singing, she promptly told him he could take up where she left off if he wanted to. In relating this little incident his wife’s face lighted up and she fairly beamed as she recalled what a beautiful natural singing voice he had and how many songs he knew. She says, “He could sing all night and not sing the same song twice.” (She is now 84 years old and lives with her daughter, Cleone, in Hurricane, Utah, although she is blind she has a most pleasant personality and a keen mind.)
Andy and Sarah were married May 23, 1900, in the St. George Temple for time (only). To them were born the following children: Cleone, June 28, 1902, who later married John H. Pulsipher (a grandson of John, Andy’s half brother); Andrew John, born November 11, 1903 - he died March 16, 1925; Sarah Sarphonia, born July 31, 1905, and married Walter Pulsipher (a brother of John who married Cleone); Dean Willard, born March 29, 1910, who married Elva Frampton; and Martha Ma Dora, born June 4, 1912 and married Kenneth Miller.
Andy was devoted to his family. He took his wife’s children into his home and loved and cared for them as he did his own. Even after they were married and needed his special help he was always right there to give every assistance that was in his power to do so.
It might be well to tell here of a little incident that Sarah remembered him telling when he was just a boy. He was driving a freight team to Pioche, a mining town. One evening he went into an eating house and a drunk man was carrying on about the Mormons. He stood uncertainly to his feet and asked if there was any G-- D--- Mormons in the house. Andy unflinchingly accepted the challenge and drawing himself to his full height said, “I am a Mormon and I am proud of it.” This bold assumption of the young lad seemed to change the tune of the drunk. He went over to Andy and placed his hand on his shoulder and announced just as loudly, “If anyone ever molests this boy he will have me to deal with.”
Cleone, along with the other children, appreciated the fine religious training they received in the home. Now they had family prayers night and morning, each having a turn to express themselves. They were never allowed to speak the least bit critical of those men who were in authority in the Church. He counseled his children to marry people of their own faith. The home evenings where singing was enjoyed by all members of the family and often visiting friends and relatives was an occasion looked forward to by all.
Andy was as honest as the day was long; he would never cheat a soul out of a penny. Everyone liked to deal with him because he was a square shooter. He was kind to animals. It always made him very vexed to have anyone hit a horse over the head. Said it should be the man to get the licking if he didn’t have any more sense than to beat an animal. With his love for horses came a natural gift in handling them. He could take the meanest bronco and with careful training and handling he could train him into a valuable animal both to ride and to work. He was quite a jockey too, and always rode in the races for celebrations to the amusement of the local crowds.
One day the crowd got a scare when Andy was persuaded to ride a horse belonging to Kenneth Earl. This horse was tricky and reared right over backwards with him, but as Pulsipher was a bronco rider, he slipped right out from under the horse before he hit and so wasn’t hurt.
Andy was a beautiful rider. Could sit a horse just like he was made for the job. One day as he mounted his horse and rode away from his home, a stranger made the remark, “There goes a bronco rider.” His sister asked him how he knew and the stranger replied, “Because of the way his body motion is right with that of the horse and he didn’t bounce a bit as he galloped off.”
They say “necessity is the mother of invention”. Andy Pulsipher didn’t invent anything, but he sure knew how to fix things up, such as his wagon or harness, if they needed repairs, even out in the hills. He always carried a good supply of chains with which he could toggle up anything. This trait earned him the nickname of “Chainy”. His oldest son, Andrew Jr., was often called “Little Chainy”.
One day Andy told his son to go out and harness the horses so he could go up in the mountains, but the boy came back full of sorrow with the sad news that Old Nig, their main working and riding horse, lay dead in the corral. The father seemed stunned at the news and just sat there speechless, then finally said, “Thank God that it is out to the corral and not in the house,” meaning the death.
He was even tempered and agreeable. A fine attribute for any person to possess. Another thing that could be mentioned is how quick and accurate he could figure practical arithmetic problems in his head. He could heft a chicken or some such thing and approximate the weight within an ounce. He never had much schooling, but he went far in self education.
One day he and another fellow were out chasing mustang horses. They had separated and were just about to make the catch when Andy happened on to some luscious wild strawberries. He was hungry and they were a great temptation to pass them by so he got off and was enjoying them to the fullest extent. His partner waited and waited for him to show up, but he didn’t, so he went back over the trail thinking perhaps he had been hurt or something. But his patience was about exhausted when he found him placidly eating strawberries. Andy just laughed at his friend’s concern.
He loved to play tricks on people and had a great sense of humor. One time he had a wild fatted steer roped, leading him to where he wanted to butcher him. There was a guy on the hill near by throwing rocks at the steer just to be smart. Andy told him to stop or he would be sorry, but the fellow didn’t think he meant it and kept right on. Pulsipher thought it was about time that the guy was taught to do what he was told, so he let the rope go just far enough to reach the teaser. The steer mauled him over the ground and slobbered all over him, so you see his lesson of obedience wasn’t too pleasant.
He and his friend, Bert Truman, used to have great times together. Bert had a horror of snakes so Andy liked to tease him with them. Lem Leavitt and Andy went into the hills once to get cedar and pine wood and were camping together. Lem was noted for his “big stories”. The bigger he could stretch them the better he liked it and Andy was getting a little fed up. They were eating supper that evening just at dark, Lem asked for the butter, knowing that Sarah always sent it in her husband’s grub box in a flat red coffee can. Andy just handed that to Lem. He dipped his knife in and put a generous helping onto his bread and took a big bite, only to discover that he was the victim of a practical joke and he burst out with “you damn little Welchman.”
Once there was a bunch of Bunkerville men working on a road gang. At noon they were all taking an after-dinner nap in the shade under their wagons. Dudley Hardy and Andy were a little late getting in. The scene looked just too peaceful to Andy and he thought some excitement was needed, so he grabbed a pair of double-trees and shook them vigorously shouting excitedly, “Whoa! Whoa! as if he was trying to stop a frightened runaway team. The startled men were about ready to take him apart when they discovered the cause of their disturbance.
Andy always enjoyed fairly good health until he was herding sheep for a man named Shoultz down by the river bottom near Bunkerville. There were alkaline marshes in the vicinity. One day as he was riding after the sheep trying to get them out of a field, his horse slipped somehow in one of these marshy places and fell on him. The horse managed to get out, then Andy finally made it, but it was discovered that he had received a serious injury to his head, causing a brain hemorrhage. He was never really well after this accident. When he couldn’t work anymore, he sold his property in Bunkerville and they moved to Las Vegas to be near more of their children. He was quite content there but he did miss his old friends and the locality he had grown up in.
He lived two or three years after his accident and then took sick and was taken to the County hospital in Las Vegas where he lingered nearly a year before he died, February 20, l939. His loved ones brought him back to Bunkerville where he was buried beside his first wife.