George William Wadsworth on his mission in England
Sarah Mariah Terry Wadsworth
Josephine Rebecca Terry Wadsworth
Aunt Josie as I knew her
I will attempt to establish a foundation for this story with
some genealogy.
My great grandfather, George Allen Wadsworth and his wife
Elizabent Broadbent, had eleven children. My father's father,
Nephi John, was the second child. George William (Will) was
the fourth child, and the father in this story.
Thomas Sirls Terry, my great grandfather and his wife, Eliza
Jane Pulsipher, had twelve children. My grandmother, Eliza
Jane Terry, the wife of Nephi John, was one of these children.
Two of her sisters, Sarah Mariah and Josephine Rebecca, are
part of the foundation of this story.
George William fell in love at the age of 20 with the very
beautiful Sarah Mariah, who was 17. They married and had
a son. Soon they had a little girl, Sadie. Sarah died from
complications of the birth when she was just 20. Great
Grandmother Eliza Jane, came to Panaca to care for George
and his children until they could recover from this tragedy.
A very short time later, George was called to serve a
mission in England and Eliza Jane took the children to her
home in Hebron to care for them while he was gone. After
returning from his mission, he went to Hebron to see the
children. They didn't know him, nor did he know them.
Sarah's younger sister, Josephine, 19 at the time, had been
the primary care giver of the children. I am sure there
were many reasons, but I am romantic enough to think
and hope, that love was why George married Josephine
after a brief courtship. It is easy to see why she had fallen
in love with him; he was the father of the children she
loved as her own and he was very handsome and kind.
He took her and the children home to Panaca.
George and Josephine had nine children, Albert Thomas,
one of the principal players in this story, being their first
born.
Now a little more history. Dad had three aunts living in
Panaca. His father's sister, Elizabeth (Aunt Lizzie Edwards),
Nora, the wife of his father's brother, Benjamin (Aunt Nora
Wadsworth), and Josephine (Aunt Josie Wadsworth), the
wife of George William. Aunt Josie is the other principal
player in this story.
Dad loved these aunts. My siblings and I loved them, too.
We knew them as the "older aunts", but to us they were
the same as our other aunts who lived in Panaca, Dad's
sister Dora, and Florence and Dolly, the wives of his
brothers, Frank and Lafe. To us, perhaps, we loved to
visit their homes even more because they were an older
part of our pioneer heritage and had such wonderful
stories to tell. They loved Dad, and so they also loved his
children.
Aunt Josie lived in very humble circumstances, George
having died at the age of 50 leaving her with all of those
little children, the youngest just an infant. She cleaned
houses and took in washing and ironing to support her
family. I loved to visit her and often found myself walking
to her humble little home, hoping for a hug and another
wonderful story. Her little home was always clean, neat,
and cozy. She always had a treat for me and my siblings
when we would visit her. I realize now how meager a
treat it was, but to a child who loved her, it was always
wonderful. She would have one of her homemade
gingersnap or molasses cookies, a scone with homemade
jam, or sometimes just a cold baking powder biscuit
with molasses or honey. It was all very delicious
When Dad was proprietor of the N. J. Wadsworth and
Sons General Mercantile, he helped Aunt Josie by
giving her supplies in a way that she was never stripped
of her dignity. Aunt Josie died in 1942, having been a
widow for 31 years. I was just 11 and I was so sad when
she died. I missed her so much.
James Albert never married. He had health problems
and was mentaly handicapped. I am not sure if he was
born with these challenges or if they occurred later. I
have heard that he was severely injured in a fall from a
horse and that he had suffered severe illness with very
high fevers. I learned from listening to Dad and reading
genealogy, that for a time he worked at farming and
drove freight wagons. As a child, I remember him riding
a beautiful big black horse and hearing stories of his skill
as a true "Old West" cowboy. My brother, Leo, said there
was no one he would rather ride the range with and that
he learned a lot about being a good cowboy from Albert.
Eventually, Albert was no longer able to do these things.
Dad loved this cousin and was protective of him. He was
known as "Ob" to most everyone. He was a sweet, gentle
man. Some of the kids in town called him "Old Ob" and
when he got older, cruelly referred to him as the "dummy".
Dad told my siblings and I that we should always call him
Albert and treat him with love and respect. Dad always
had a little job for him. He always complemented him
when he completed them and helped him to feel that
he was important and of worth.
Aunt Josie had loved Albert and gave him the care that he
needed. When she died, Albert was alone and frightened.
His condition worsened. He continued to live in the little
house he and Aunt Josie had lived in for so many years.
He had a sister, Georgia, who lived next door, but she had
many problems in her own family and couldn't do too
much for him. Dad made sure Albert always had something
to keep him busy that would give him a few groceries and a
little spending money. I think after Aunt Josie died, he
looked to Dad for love and stability. In that sense, Dad
became his primary caregiver.
On a beautiful summer day, May 24, 1951, George and I
were married by Bishop Horlacher, my brother-in-law
Pete's father, in Mrs. Free's beautiful flower filled yard.
During our reception that night at the church, George and
I were standing in the receiving line with our parents. As
guests arrived, several of the Relief Society Sisters would
take their gifts and place them on a table before they came
through the line to congratulate us.
Albert came through the door. He was neatly dressed in
his best clothes, his hair slicked back, and his shoes shined.
He had a newspaper wrapped bundle clutched tightly to
his chest. As he came in, the sisters attempted to take it
from him. He clutched it tighter and became agitated
when they again attempted to take it. Dad saw what was
happening. He motioned for the sisters to step away and
asked Albert to come over. He ignored the line and the
people coming through, walked straight to me and placed
the newspaper wrapped bundle into my arms.
Dad nodded for me to take it and as I held the newspaper
against my white satin gown, Albert said to me, "These
were my mother's, we used them every day. My mother
loved me and took care of me. I loved her. James loves
me and helps me. I love him. You are James' daughter
and so I love you. You loved my mother and I want
you to have them."
He stood there and waited for me to unwrap his gift, and
with people waiting in line, Dad told me to do so. Albert
smiled his sweet smile, looking proud, as I did. Inside
were a few of Aunt Josie's dishes, much used, one chipped,
but all scrubbed clean. In those days, these dishes were
given as premiums in each box of oatmeal. They were china
and ovenware in several different patterns. This little
bundle contained an assortment of pieces . There was a
bread and butter plate, saucer, cereal bowl, and a fruit
dish in the Harvest pattern. There was a cereal bowl in the
Tea Rose pattern, a cereal bowl and a fruit bowl in the
Pastoral pattern, a cup and saucer in Jadeite and another
small green bread or salad plate.
Even as a 20 year old new bride, this touched me deeply. I
could picture him going to the cupboard and assembling
this wonderful gift for me. It was, and still is, a testament
of my father's love and respect for his family and fellow men
and a testament of his infinite kindness to those who some
people do not treat as equals, nor see them through the eyes
of our Father in Heaven.
When unpacking after a move, I always remove these dishes
before any of my other china. They have always remained
with me. I have never used them, but I look at them often
and they have been used as visual aids in lessons I have
taught in Relief Society and Young Women. They are dear
to me. They are a part of my childhood and young woman-
hood and represent a link to those people I loved so much.
I am sure on one of my many visits to Aunt Josie's humble
little home she served my treat on one of these bread and
butter plates and I happily ate from it as she told me
another wonderful story of my family and the "olden days".
As I wrote this story and took them out to photograph them,
I cried for a minute, not tears of sadness, but tears of joy
and thanksgiving for my wonderful father, his precious
Aunt Josie, and his special cousin Albert.
some genealogy.
My great grandfather, George Allen Wadsworth and his wife
Elizabent Broadbent, had eleven children. My father's father,
Nephi John, was the second child. George William (Will) was
the fourth child, and the father in this story.
Thomas Sirls Terry, my great grandfather and his wife, Eliza
Jane Pulsipher, had twelve children. My grandmother, Eliza
Jane Terry, the wife of Nephi John, was one of these children.
Two of her sisters, Sarah Mariah and Josephine Rebecca, are
part of the foundation of this story.
George William fell in love at the age of 20 with the very
beautiful Sarah Mariah, who was 17. They married and had
a son. Soon they had a little girl, Sadie. Sarah died from
complications of the birth when she was just 20. Great
Grandmother Eliza Jane, came to Panaca to care for George
and his children until they could recover from this tragedy.
A very short time later, George was called to serve a
mission in England and Eliza Jane took the children to her
home in Hebron to care for them while he was gone. After
returning from his mission, he went to Hebron to see the
children. They didn't know him, nor did he know them.
Sarah's younger sister, Josephine, 19 at the time, had been
the primary care giver of the children. I am sure there
were many reasons, but I am romantic enough to think
and hope, that love was why George married Josephine
after a brief courtship. It is easy to see why she had fallen
in love with him; he was the father of the children she
loved as her own and he was very handsome and kind.
He took her and the children home to Panaca.
George and Josephine had nine children, Albert Thomas,
one of the principal players in this story, being their first
born.
Now a little more history. Dad had three aunts living in
Panaca. His father's sister, Elizabeth (Aunt Lizzie Edwards),
Nora, the wife of his father's brother, Benjamin (Aunt Nora
Wadsworth), and Josephine (Aunt Josie Wadsworth), the
wife of George William. Aunt Josie is the other principal
player in this story.
Dad loved these aunts. My siblings and I loved them, too.
We knew them as the "older aunts", but to us they were
the same as our other aunts who lived in Panaca, Dad's
sister Dora, and Florence and Dolly, the wives of his
brothers, Frank and Lafe. To us, perhaps, we loved to
visit their homes even more because they were an older
part of our pioneer heritage and had such wonderful
stories to tell. They loved Dad, and so they also loved his
children.
Aunt Josie lived in very humble circumstances, George
having died at the age of 50 leaving her with all of those
little children, the youngest just an infant. She cleaned
houses and took in washing and ironing to support her
family. I loved to visit her and often found myself walking
to her humble little home, hoping for a hug and another
wonderful story. Her little home was always clean, neat,
and cozy. She always had a treat for me and my siblings
when we would visit her. I realize now how meager a
treat it was, but to a child who loved her, it was always
wonderful. She would have one of her homemade
gingersnap or molasses cookies, a scone with homemade
jam, or sometimes just a cold baking powder biscuit
with molasses or honey. It was all very delicious
When Dad was proprietor of the N. J. Wadsworth and
Sons General Mercantile, he helped Aunt Josie by
giving her supplies in a way that she was never stripped
of her dignity. Aunt Josie died in 1942, having been a
widow for 31 years. I was just 11 and I was so sad when
she died. I missed her so much.
James Albert never married. He had health problems
and was mentaly handicapped. I am not sure if he was
born with these challenges or if they occurred later. I
have heard that he was severely injured in a fall from a
horse and that he had suffered severe illness with very
high fevers. I learned from listening to Dad and reading
genealogy, that for a time he worked at farming and
drove freight wagons. As a child, I remember him riding
a beautiful big black horse and hearing stories of his skill
as a true "Old West" cowboy. My brother, Leo, said there
was no one he would rather ride the range with and that
he learned a lot about being a good cowboy from Albert.
Eventually, Albert was no longer able to do these things.
Dad loved this cousin and was protective of him. He was
known as "Ob" to most everyone. He was a sweet, gentle
man. Some of the kids in town called him "Old Ob" and
when he got older, cruelly referred to him as the "dummy".
Dad told my siblings and I that we should always call him
Albert and treat him with love and respect. Dad always
had a little job for him. He always complemented him
when he completed them and helped him to feel that
he was important and of worth.
Aunt Josie had loved Albert and gave him the care that he
needed. When she died, Albert was alone and frightened.
His condition worsened. He continued to live in the little
house he and Aunt Josie had lived in for so many years.
He had a sister, Georgia, who lived next door, but she had
many problems in her own family and couldn't do too
much for him. Dad made sure Albert always had something
to keep him busy that would give him a few groceries and a
little spending money. I think after Aunt Josie died, he
looked to Dad for love and stability. In that sense, Dad
became his primary caregiver.
On a beautiful summer day, May 24, 1951, George and I
were married by Bishop Horlacher, my brother-in-law
Pete's father, in Mrs. Free's beautiful flower filled yard.
During our reception that night at the church, George and
I were standing in the receiving line with our parents. As
guests arrived, several of the Relief Society Sisters would
take their gifts and place them on a table before they came
through the line to congratulate us.
Albert came through the door. He was neatly dressed in
his best clothes, his hair slicked back, and his shoes shined.
He had a newspaper wrapped bundle clutched tightly to
his chest. As he came in, the sisters attempted to take it
from him. He clutched it tighter and became agitated
when they again attempted to take it. Dad saw what was
happening. He motioned for the sisters to step away and
asked Albert to come over. He ignored the line and the
people coming through, walked straight to me and placed
the newspaper wrapped bundle into my arms.
Dad nodded for me to take it and as I held the newspaper
against my white satin gown, Albert said to me, "These
were my mother's, we used them every day. My mother
loved me and took care of me. I loved her. James loves
me and helps me. I love him. You are James' daughter
and so I love you. You loved my mother and I want
you to have them."
He stood there and waited for me to unwrap his gift, and
with people waiting in line, Dad told me to do so. Albert
smiled his sweet smile, looking proud, as I did. Inside
were a few of Aunt Josie's dishes, much used, one chipped,
but all scrubbed clean. In those days, these dishes were
given as premiums in each box of oatmeal. They were china
and ovenware in several different patterns. This little
bundle contained an assortment of pieces . There was a
bread and butter plate, saucer, cereal bowl, and a fruit
dish in the Harvest pattern. There was a cereal bowl in the
Tea Rose pattern, a cereal bowl and a fruit bowl in the
Pastoral pattern, a cup and saucer in Jadeite and another
small green bread or salad plate.
Even as a 20 year old new bride, this touched me deeply. I
could picture him going to the cupboard and assembling
this wonderful gift for me. It was, and still is, a testament
of my father's love and respect for his family and fellow men
and a testament of his infinite kindness to those who some
people do not treat as equals, nor see them through the eyes
of our Father in Heaven.
When unpacking after a move, I always remove these dishes
before any of my other china. They have always remained
with me. I have never used them, but I look at them often
and they have been used as visual aids in lessons I have
taught in Relief Society and Young Women. They are dear
to me. They are a part of my childhood and young woman-
hood and represent a link to those people I loved so much.
I am sure on one of my many visits to Aunt Josie's humble
little home she served my treat on one of these bread and
butter plates and I happily ate from it as she told me
another wonderful story of my family and the "olden days".
As I wrote this story and took them out to photograph them,
I cried for a minute, not tears of sadness, but tears of joy
and thanksgiving for my wonderful father, his precious
Aunt Josie, and his special cousin Albert.
