After my day in the library, I put the story of the John Hartshorn, Jr. family in my file along with the other information I gathered. And there it sat.... Several years then passed. During this time, I graduated from BYU and moved back to Los Angeles to embark on my career in personnel management at Hughes Aircraft Company in Culver City, California. In those years when I made a concerted effort to keep the Sabbath Day holy, not that I still don't today, one of the Sunday activities I would undertake might seem very strange to you. I would take family group sheets from my Book of Remembrance, interweave the dates and places with my knowledge of history, and then try to conceptualize what actually happened to the people on the family group sheet. On one sheet I saw an 1840 birth date of a child which took place on the Atlantic Ocean. I empathized with the mother who probably suffered great hardship during her pregnancy and childbirth at sea. Morning sickness is bad enough by itself. But, when combined with sea sickness, it must have been almost intolerable. On another sheet I were saddened to see the death date of a small baby girl in Winter Quarters, Iowa only six days after her birth in 1847. The joy the family felt at the birth contrasted with the pain of the death made me appreciate even more the two children, David and Travis, with which the Lord had blessed me. Kevin's birth was still two years away.
One Sunday evening in 1987 Judy and I were looking at the family group sheet of the John Hartshorn Jr. family I had copied from the Archive Records of the Salt Lake Genealogical Library while I was still in college. Seeing three death dates on the same day, Judy asked me if I knew what had happened to the family? I thumbed through my files and found the account of the massacre at Haverhill. After discussing the tragedy that beset the Hartshorn family, trying to imagine how we would have reacted in a similar situation or how we would have dealt with such misfortune, I returned the history to my files and retired to bed for the evening. About three o’clock in the morning I suddenly awoke. Like lightening from a summer thunder storm, an overpowering realization flashed through my mind that something was wrong on the John Hartshorn Jr. family group sheet. So profound was the thought, that I had to get up right then and go look. I took out the family group sheet and immediately noticed that the year of death of the first-born son, John III, was 1699, making him two years old when he died. Hence, no temple work had ever been done on his behalf except sealing him to his parents. He had never been baptized or endowed. I rushed to open my history of Haverhill, Massachusetts to compare dates and, sure enough, there was a discrepancy. The history of the massacre said that John III was eleven years old when he died. This meant that temple work should have been performed for him. I was now faced with the problem of determining which date was correct. The only way I could do this was to again go to the Genealogical Library and review the materials that contained the early vital records of Haverhill, Massachusetts. I was excited to check the records and see which date was correct. Here was the potential for an opportunity I had been working toward for years - to finally be able to do the temple work for a deceased ancestor. I was fortunate in that there was a Family History Library situated on the grounds of the Los Angeles Temple. If the library had been open at that hour, I would have rushed straight there. But it wasn’t and so reluctantly I had to wait.
Inasmuch as my discovery had taken place in the wee hours of Monday morning, I was once again faced with a perplexing dilemma. The library did not open until 9:00 a.m. But, I had to be at work at 8:00 a.m. Again, the temptation to take a day off was literally tearing at the very fiber of my being. What should I do? An overwhelming desire to verify the correct date was burning within me. On the other hand, I held a position of some responsibility at my place of employment and had a family to support. I went to work; but, as soon as I could, I raced to the Family History Library. At least I wanted to race there. But rush hour traffic on the Los Angeles freeways makes speeding anywhere next to impossible. Sitting on the freeway was frustrating and only heightened my craving desire to get to the library. After what seemed like an eternity on the freeway, I arrived on the Temple grounds. I hurried inside the library and began my search. Finally I found it, the documentation that confirmed that John Hartshorn III was killed with his father and brothers in 1708. I almost shouted for joy. Before the night was through, I completed all the necessary papers to have the temple work done and sent them off to the Genealogical Department of the Church in Salt Lake City.
Several weeks later I received a letter back stating that the name of John Hartshorn III had been cleared to have all the necessary temple work done. The letter added that his name had been sent to the Los Angeles Temple where I could go and perform the work on his behalf. What a thrill! And yet at the same time a quiet peace came over me and caused me to reflect back on all of the circumstances that resulted in this letter and the ultimate performance of these eternal ordinances. I am convinced, and no one can make me believe otherwise, that the immortal spirit of John Hartshorn III had reached a certain point in the spirit world where it could no longer progress. The ordinances of baptism, confirmation, bestowal of the Priesthood, and the endowment, all of which can be performed in the temple for deceased individuals who did not have that opportunity during their mortal existence, needed to be performed on his behalf so that he could continue on in his pursuit of Eternal Life. The time had come for this to happen and I was blessed to be a part of it.
While still reflecting, I vividly remembered that sparkling winter morning some eleven years past and the prompting I had to visit the Genealogical Library in Salt Lake City. Suddenly, it became clear just what it was that influenced me that day to cut class and drive to the library where I obtained my first knowledge of what had happened to the John Hartshorn Jr. family: it was the “Spirit of Elijah” that the Prophet Malachi wrote would “turn the heart of the fathers to the children and the heart of the children to their fathers...” (Malachi 4:6)
With this scripture in mind, Joseph Smith taught: “...this is the Spirit of Elijah, that we redeem our dead, and connect ourselves with our fathers which are in heaven, and seal up our dead to come forth in the first resurrection.” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pp. 337-338)
Yes, Elijah made me do it.
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