by Cathy Gilmore | Nov 13, 2016 | Uncategorized
Lehi Larson Smith1, son of Emma Larson and Jesse N. Smith, died in the Argonne Forest in France on October 28, 1918, while fighting as a soldier in World War I. His mother Emma later said that she knew she had lost her son from the moment it happened, and that there was no surprise when the official word came.
While transcribing a letter Emma wrote to her granddaughter Dorothy 23 years later, I received additional insight into Emma’s feelings about losing a son to war. Written in 1941, against the backdrop of an escalating war in Europe and North Africa, the letter reveals the loss Emma still felt about her son Lehi, and her admission that her desire to protect her family was greater than any loyalty she felt toward her country.
…our children are our most precious jewels, the more we have the richer we are. I am not willing to raise boys for cannon fodder. I have furnished one but not any more. I am not looking for war in this country should it come to us I have grand children but am not willing for any of them to go. I may not be very loyal to my country. I am not converted to wars.
While we may have the names and dates that history provides, nothing compares to one’s own words to reveal what we cannot ascertain by mere historical facts. These small insights give me greater understanding of Emma, who is my 2nd great grandmother. History must not be names and dates alone, but must be enhanced with the truths and stories that only these sources can give.
Here is a full transcription of the letter. Original spelling intact. Punctuation added for clarity. 2
Mesa Arizona
Feb 26 1941
Dearest Dorothy,
How much I have appreciated the Christmas card and the photos of the three lovely children. I hop you will pardon my for neglecting to write to you and thank you for remembering me. I have felt like I wasn’t worth remembering. Your mother sent me one of your letters you had writen to her in Heber. It was very interesting to me you seem to be a very busy woman. I think you must have a wonderful good man to help. You couldn’t do so many things and care for your little flock too. Cleona is like you & good helper in the Joseph City ward. But our children are our most precious jewels, the more we have the richer we are. I am not willing to raise boys for cannon fodder I have furnished one but not any more. I am not looking for war in this country. Should it come to us I have grand children but am not willing for any of them to go. I may not be very loyal to my country. I am not converted to wars. Hitler may think he is an angel, I think headquarters is in Germany for the devil.
I can’t help but that Ellsworth could get a school down here in Arizona they pay more here and then I could see more of you. I thot this winter in Price I wouldn’t be here very long myself I cannot brag much myself yet but I am gaining any some I am not loafing quite as much as I did. Your mother done a good part by me in Snowflake which I have appreciated very much. We have been rained on so much down here that it is getting tiresome today it is trying to quit I hope it will, the citris show is on this week they are having a great time some of the men is growing beards they all expect the prize. If I was to be judge not any of them would get it that I have seen the fruit is nice and cheap too. I would like to send you a sackfull but they may hold it up on the line.
We have all kinds of flowers here so it isn’t very cold. I have geraniums blooming all winter growing outdoors on the north side of the house. I hope you young folks can keep well when you are well you can work. I would love to run in and see you all.
I have felt so proud over the way you made the letters on the envelope. I put it where it could be seen & callers pick it up & ask who done that. My granddaughter. And too I could show the great grands.
Love to all
Grandmother Smith
Rear: Lorana, Lehi, Caroline, George. Seated: Don, Emma, Hyrum. Front: Myrtle, Aikens
- While serving a Mormon mission in the Northwester States, Lehi received a call from Montana Draft Board to serve in World War I as a soldier in the United States Army. Before departing for his military duties he asked Drucilla McKay, a young lady acquaintance in the mission field, to marry him. She accepted and the pair were married in the Salt Lake Temple on March 20, 1918. They had only a few days to share their marital bliss before he reported to Camp Funston for military training. Lehi Smith was soon shipped overseas where he served with the 89th Division for several months in the St. Mihiel Campaign. On Oct. 28, 1918 he suffered a direct hit from an artillery shell. He was not yet 28 years of age when he was killed in the Argonne Forest in France.
From “Life Sketch” written by Lehi T. Smith, a nephew to Lehi Larson Smith. Material obtained from sketches by Hyrum Smith, Lorana Smith Broadbent, and Seraphine Smith Frost in The Kinsman, Vol. XVIII No.2, March 1964.
- Letter from the Dorothy Smith Clark Archive.
by Cathy Gilmore | Oct 17, 2016 | Features
Do you have boxes of papers, letters, and journals and don’t know where to start? Do you want to index (transcribe and tag) your family records but the process of scanning everything seems overwhelming? Kindex offers many services that help families organize, digitize and archive their family records.
by Cathy Gilmore | Apr 15, 2016 | Letters
Kindex is thrilled to have a guest post from family historian Katie Farnsworth. Katie has dabbled on and off in genealogy for the past 20 years. Besides researching her ancestors from Ohio and Indiana, most recently Katie has focused her efforts on adding richness and texture to her ancestors through researching pictures, personal histories, newspapers, letters and journals. Katie lives in Centerville, Utah.
As a young girl growing up in a small, rural community in central Utah, I was fortunate to live close to relatives. I spent a lot of time at my grandparent’s home. And the house next door belonged to my great aunt, Dona Sandberg. Aunt Dona, as I called her, was compassionate and loved me just as much as her own grandchildren. She was tall and slender with a full head of perfectly coiffed, brilliant, white hair. She dressed elegantly and loved to talk. She was a homemaker and “beauty operator” as they were called back in the day. As she aged and lost her strength and stamina, I mowed her lawn during the summers and cleaned her home.
(more…)
by Cathy Gilmore | Feb 14, 2016 | Love Letters from the Archive
[Dorothy and Ellsworth become engaged in the Spring of 1933, yet the are still spending summers apart while Ellsworth works in Idaho, and then later when he serves a six-month mission in Colorado. -Cathy]
[Ellsworth to Dorothy, 29 July 1933]
It is evening. The earth is fresh and green from the summers first rain. The sun has set but it is still light so as to see better the soft dewy foliage. It is sweet. The air is so clean and pure it is as if everything was in a preparedness of some sort. I’ll bet it’s just waiting for a lovely Miss Smith who is going to come and visit me for awhile. Yes, I can see her coming. He hair is back over her shoulders and the wind is blowing through it. Her lips are parted and a smile is a welcome to me. She is on her tiptoes and her arms are partly reaching to me in welcome. Her eyes are as stars, yet they shine with no glaring light, rather it is a soft brown glow that speaks of love, acknowledgement, trust and unending spirit. Is she going to get here? It is growing dusk. I’ll go meet her and taking her into my arms, press her gently to me.
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[Ellsworth to Dorothy, 15 December 1933]
Dearest—
Just a note at this late hour to tell you I have not forgotten you and that I’m still alive and happy. The stars seem so low and bright tonight that I yearn for your company. This is truly a beautiful country and the only thing to make it more perfect would be— (you know who).
________________________
[Ellsworth to Dorothy 29 December 1933]
Dearest Little Starlet,
I’m oozing with sentiment tonight. The moon is full and my thoughts run tenderly along such lines as boat rids on a lagoon, walks in the park when it’s just chilly enough for the arm of your loved one to warm you, and skating on crystal clear ice with a sweetheart on my arm as the cold blue white stars wink and fall in the frosty sky. Then thoughts go back to June nights when the air is burdened with sweet perfume of big copper colored roses and lilac. When grass and ground invites you to linger and muse and in silence wonder at the handiwork of God & his goodness to Man. Two lovers are in bliss as they feel more than they can say, and when the kiss of the betrothed is as a sacrament for themselves, to a greater power than Man. Dreaming of days to come when service and love shall know no bounds and two shall be as one. Blessed children and blessed old age; even death is then beautiful.
It is beautiful tonight. Old Pikes Peak in majestic stillness is in communion with the stars & trees. It is quiet. The noise of city life is not near and as I look out in the dark, it seems you are near. See— I’m talking to you now. I’ll tell you how I love you if you don’t leave. This may seem foolish but you are near. And I know of a surety of my love for you.
________________________
[Ellsworth to Dorothy, 22 February 1934]
“Did you ever see a dream walking? Well, I did” [sketch of musical notes] etc. I saw that a number of times while a good member of the Capitol Hill Ward. Remember the times when we went walking after church. Also, how I could walk home with you from Sunday School & make a date for the evening. I can’t do that now but I can see you walking in dreams. I see you often as I remember you the times we got up early and went up some canyon. Remember the morning we walk up towards Parleys Canyon, and I kissed you right out on the prairie (I mean your mouth). Excuse me I don’t know my anatomy. What I meant to say was: we were standing out on the prarie [sic] in plain view of everybody for miles around, and I kissed, you. You see it was so early the people around were not up yet.
________________________
by Cathy Gilmore | Feb 14, 2016 | Letters, Love Letters from the Archive
[Ellsworth to Dorothy 9 July 1932]
As I sit here all alone I wonder what you are doing now. Are you having a good time! I hope so because it would compensate in some measure for the wonderful time I’m having. Wonderful – like fun.
Tonight while near the Union Pacific line irrigating No. 18 (Fast Mail & Passenger) came tearing down the track. It was dark but the coaches were ablaze with light and I could see in through the windows. I imagined I could see happy travelers waiting to meet some special friend. I could see lovers as they planned. But soon the “creeper” is gone. With a shrill whistle and a last flash of red light I am left alone. I look up in the sky. There is a half moon there – a star falls – I do not have time to say, “Money! Money!” Hmm – a half moon – 28 more days before another one – two more after that then —— then snow, school, work. Snow. Snowflake – the place where Dot was born one & twenty years ago. Twenty one year [sic] ago. Twenty one years ago I was three years old. What did I know of love then – no more idea that Dot was a squealing red faced little baby then that there was any world outside of my door-yard. Hmmm mighty funny – darn funny. Now I know her but can’t see her for – OH such a long time. But then what matters time. Reward, reward, desire – reward? Desire? I desired a letter this Saturday night but will probably be rewarded with one when a few more days have passed. I thought she was foolin when she said a letter in a few weeks. Hope she was. I desire – hope wish for one Monday. If not Monday then I may get one Tuesday. Think I’ll keep this crazy epistle around until then. If I got one Tues then sent it off. You see I would not like to bore her with too much of this sort of stuff.
Midnight – soon the kids from town will be home from the dance in Bennington. Couldn’t go up because I had to work late. Have to look out or I’ll forget how to dance or dress up for a young lady – best not to anyway, I guess. […] The radio is now transmitting “Extraordinary Girl” a minute ago it (orchestra) played “I love you truly”. It might have gone on and played “I miss a little Miss” and then the later hit that says something about “summer coming on and not girl to be had” – can’t get it just right. AW Rats.
[…] That was a grand letter you wrote last. I received it yesterday afternoon and was tickled nearly pink. It’s funny how I begin to wonder about things and worry for fear you’ve forgotten me if I don’t hear from you for a few days. I wondered all sorts of things. I even wondered if I should not write so often, but after getting your letter I decided to keep on writing but that perhaps I’d better cut down on the salutations & endings. I really mean them but if you think they are not proper I’ll have to let you hold me down a bit. I guess it’s because I’ve never used them before and I really wanted to and though perhaps you wouldn’t care. I hope you don’t think it was flattery. I detest such stuff. It is merely the way I feel. Forgive me.
I take your letters too seriously? Sometimes I think that you do not mean some things at least, not the way I take them. […] This is what I felt more like saying. Goodbye to the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.
Love, Ellsworth
___________________________________
[Ellsworth to Dorothy 1 August 1932]
I can tell by the wild flowers you sent that you were quite high in the mountains, as only those grow there at this time of the year. They were still beautiful.
Who says you are not a poet? It sounds like you and is good enough so I wonder if I should even try any more myself. I wish I could believe that you even though of me slightly, when you wrote it. If I though that were true I’d be just about the happiest fellow in this little old universe.
Gee, if I could step into some summer league I’d be seeing you in about a jiffy. I’d just quit this old letter and tell it to you personally. Somehow it’s not apt to get twisted as it might on paper. I often get of into so world of fantasy while going about my work and when I do I think up some of the greatest and amusing situations. Sometimes I am a fellow with a sudden gift of $10,000.00 and I figure out what I’d do with it. Then I’m in SLC and talking with you. Then we’re going on a hike somewhere and I’m seeing your home after a perfect evening. Sometimes I’m a successful Dr. again I’m a School Teacher. Oh. I guess I’m somewhat of a dreamer. Anyway, most of my dreams cluster around a certain little Girl at 474 E 4th S. She is to me the sweetest girl I can imagine just sensible enough not to be too flippant and just romantic enough to be interesting and extremely desirable. Oh Dot, I think of you in all my work. You just seem to pop up wherever I am and whatever I’m doing. Even though I’m busy and not able to write quite so often as I did I think of us often and with more real appreciation. At first it was sort of a devoid feeling I felt mostly because of my many evenings and days with you. It was a direct change in my way of living. Now I’m somewhat over that. I still am lonely but I’m realizing what it means to be a pal to you and be in your company. A deeper appreciation I believe. It’s surely the foundation for a very close friendship. I realize now that it is not a common infatuation or a short romance. If it were ever that it has changed into something which I want to keep and what means everything to me.
___________________________________
[Ellsworth to Dorothy 7 September 1932]
We drove from home Monday morning to Twin Falls. There we stayed at the camp ground & then this morning we came to the present place. I hope this letter reached you so that you can get a letter of to Grant’s Pass Oregon. It would tickle me pink to get one while there. Sort of make me remember you and good times past. I’m the future Goodness only knows I think about you a lot anyway. Sometimes I wonder along funny lines of thought. Especially when I did not hear from you for so long a time. Believe me I was glad when I cam home from work last Friday and your letter was waiting for me. I surely thought you had forgotten me.
Dorothy (right) stands with friend Evelyn at the North Temple Wall in Salt Lake City, Utah.
