Henry Jolley - Pioneer and Settler

I spent four days this past week in Utah for the graduation of my youngest son, Kevin, from Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.  It was a great experience.  Little did I realize at the time that this was Henry Jolley territory.  He lived the last few months of his life in Pleasant Grove, Utah, just north of Provo.  On 20 December 1850 he died and was buried near his home.  His burial and future exhumation are interesting in and of themselves.  I will write about that next week.

Here is the conclusion of Henry Jolley's autobiography.  In it, he gives vivid details of crossing the plains, life in Salt Lake City, and his call to settle the modern day town of Pleasant Grove, Utah.  He died two months after settling there.

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We pushed our way across Iowa and finally reached Council Bluffs where we set up our camp at Winter Quarters. . Great streams of immigrants from Europe as well as from the Eastern and Southern states were coming to join, which made Council Bluffs a pulsating community. But this was not our destination. Our Prophet, before his death, prophesied that the Saints would become a mighty people in the Rocky Mountains, and there they would build a new Zion.

Brigham Young and the first company of Saints headed west in the spring of 1847. Many more would follow. The Jolleys were good farmers and were advised to remain where they were to supply food for those coming and going through Winter Quarters. A Dutch immigrant and  convert named Barbara became Henry’s wife at this time. He described her as a good woman but not entirely reconciled to a harsh life on the plains.  In the spring of 1850, the time had come for us to start for the Valley. There was my wife Barbara, young Sammy, and my daughter Diana and her daughter Lina Maniza Jones in the company. Sammy was twelve now so he was quite a help. My youngest daughter Lina Maniza married John Parris and they remained in Iowa. We had many trials and hardships along the way. It was a large company and the roads were often muddy from the spring rains which slowed us up. Some days we were able to make only a few miles. I came close to losing my wagon and oxen when we crossed the Platte River which was then at flood stage, but God was with us and we were able to master the torrent.  There were many fascinating experiences on the plains. The  scenery was different and fascinating—no mountains as far as one could see. Waving expanses of bunch grass stretched out in every direction. The wide open spaces were beautiful and inspiring. After the days travel, evening socials and dances were enjoyed. The young folks had much fun and enjoyment, although at times they had to walk. The road generally was not too bad. Many people had traveled on to Oregon and California ahead of us. We were overjoyed to see trappers and Saints returning from the Valley to Winter Quarters. They would tell us intriguing stories about the beautiful canyons and valleys of the new Zion. These would be our refuge from our enemies. Occasionally, we would see a buffalo herd and some Indians which caused some anxiety, but our company was large and our scouts were always on the lookout for any sign of danger.

What a thrill when we first sighted the snow-capped Rockies! The spiraled peaks looked like far away sentinels, and we encountered some snow over the great South Pass. At Fort Bridger we rested a couple of days, and shoed our oxen because the road from here on would be rockier and rougher. There would be deep canyons and streams of water to cross. But these beautiful canyons would lead us to the place of our dreams.

Oh, what a breath-taking scene at the sight of the beautiful Salt Lake Valley. The wide stretching plain with the lake as a background was thrilling to see indeed. We were welcomed by the Saints who had arrived ahead of us and made us feel at home. We had heard so much about the country before we arrived that we did not feel as strangers among our friends. The city had been plotted into 10 acre squares, with wide spacious streets, so the ox teams could easily turn around. Beyond the plotted area were the fields. I obtained a lot on 2^nd South and Main Street. I still had a few means, but the wealth we had when we left Tennessee was pretty much used up.

In July, my daughter, Temperance, and her family arrived in the Valley, and on September 15, my daughter-in-law, Sarah and her children arrived. I met them at the mouth of Immigration Canyon. My cows were dry so I traded the Southwest corner of my lot for a cow that was milking so Sarah’s children could have milk to drink.

There was much pioneering to be done to reclaim the land.  Here we must build our empire, far away from our enemies.  According to Brigham, it was to stretch Northwest and South many miles. Settlements were to be built in every direction from Salt Lake.

We were chosen to move South into Utah County, to a place we called Grove Creek1 at the base of a high mountain called Timpanogas. We were four days on the road, and arrived there on October 13, 1850. The season was late and we had to build our cabins before winter set in. Timber was quite plentiful.

Cottonwood trees lined the banks of the two creeks that flowed from the mountain to the east. Everybody was busy and it looked like an army of ants the way the men, women and children worked to have shelter before snow fell. The work was carried forward in relays, groups of men and boys joined together. In this way they could make better progress than each working alone.

One day we had a cabin nearly to the square. The logs for the rafters were in a pile close to the building. Sammy, (the little negro boy we had brought because his parents died) and the other little boys were playing on them when the logs started to roll. One big log struck Sammy and he was killed instantly. He was a fine, obedient little fellow and we mourned his loss. Although his skin was black, truly his spirit was white just like ours. We buried him on a spot just north and east of our main settlement.  The fall was open and beautiful with some rain, but otherwise pleasant so we finished our cabins before winter set in.  We felt our food supplies were adequate and, now, we were ready to turn our attention to our church duties and planning our new settlement for a permanent home.

Henry Jolley

The last few weeks I have written about Sarah Pippin Jolley and the example she set for her descendents.  However, there was another individual who, I believe, made it possible for her to persevere.  That was her father-in-law, Henry Jolley, the first of the Jolley line to convert to the gospel of Jesus Christ.  His life had similarities to that of Sarah.  Both lost their spouses before crossing the plains.  Both experienced the hardships of Nauvoo.  And both were strengthened by the blessings that came from the temple ordinances.  In fact, when you think about it, it was for people like Henry Jolley and Sarah Pippin Jolley that Brigham Young and the other brethren worked so hard to finish the temple and institute the temple ordinances.  They would need the strength that came from those ordinances to make it across the plains and build Zion in the Rocky Mountains.  When Sarah and her family made it to the Salt Lake Valley, it was Henry Jolley who took her in.  He even sold property he owned to purchase a cow for milk for her children.

Henry Jolley was born in 1789 in Bedford, North Carolina.  That was the same year the North Carolina legislature initially rejected the new Constitution of the United States, but later accepted.  Henry's parents were plantation owners. In 1806 Henry married his childhood sweetheart, Frances Manning.  Both were age 16.  They would become the parents of 9 children.  During the War of 1812 against the British, Henry served in the North Carolina Militia. Like many of his generation, Henry was ambitious, wanting to make a better life for his family.  He felt that he could not do that in North Carolina.  So, in 1825 he set out for the open spaces and cheap land of Tennessee.   

In 1850, a few months before his death, Henry Jolley wrote a personal history.  Here are a few exerpts:

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Thinking we could better our condition, we decided in 1825 to move with many of our friends to Tennessee. We settled a few miles north of Dresden in the Northwestern part of the state. Here land was plentiful, and the climate and soil conditions were ideal for raising most any crop we desired. Our main crops were cotton and tobacco. We had obtained a large acreage and owned quite a number of slaves.

One rather warm February afternoon my sons and I were working in the field when our attention was drawn to two distinguished looking gentlemen who were approaching us. They wore black Prince Albert suits and tall smoke stack hats. We rested on our shovels and waited for them to reach us. They introduced themselves as Elder McIntosh and Elder Wilson, Mormon missionaries. After the usual exchange of greetings, they stated their mission, and told us how the boy prophet, Joseph Smith, had beheld a vision of God the Father, and His Son Jesus Christ. They told us about the Mormons at Nauvoo and the persecutions that were being heaped upon the Prophet and his people. We were especially interested in the new Book of Mormon which gave a history of the ancient inhabitants of America. We were so impressed with their message that we invited them to return and see us again. They left us a Book of Mormon and promised to see us again in about two weeks. I said to my sons, “No more work today. We must tell your mother and your wives of the glad tidings.” I could think of scarcely anything else for days except the strange story about the Nephites and the Lamanites as told in that wonderful book.

As promised, in about two weeks our Mormon friends returned and we sat in awe until the wee hours of the next morning listening to an explanation of the Principles of the Gospel. On the morrow I was ready for baptism, but our Mormon friends suggested that we wait a short time until we were sure. When they came again, my eldest son, Reuben Manning and his wife, Sarah Pippin Jolley and I were baptized February 18, 1842.  Nothing seemed to occupy our minds now, but to join the other Saints at Nauvoo. We finally decided to move and trust our future near the prophet of the Lord. It was quite a decision to make We had a comfortable home and were quite successful financially.  It required a lot of faith and courage to chance our lives and fortunes by moving to another place and live among strangers, but the urge was too great and preparations went speedily forward to move. We sold our plantation and slaves, all except little Sammy, whose parents had died. We took him with us. There was much sadness and weeping at our departure; many of the slaves wanted to come with us, but they had a new master now, who, we hoped, would be good to them. The crops were well along and the whole landscape was beautiful, but our hopes of a new life with the Saints overshadowed our sorrows as we headed our oxen north toward Nauvoo.

When we reached Nauvoo everybody was busy and the City was growing rapidly. Converts were streaming in from every direction. Europe was furnishing many artisans; men with skills who were needed to carry on the technical phase of building and construction of homes and business institutions. The Prophet and his brother Hyrum, were wonderful, spiritually endowed men. We felt lifted up to a heavenly solemnity when in their presence. A great calm would come over us. Truly we had found a prophet of God.

We were farmers and soon obtained some land and began raising crops. With our oxen we were able to provide for ourselves and to share with others who were less fortunate. But the persecution continued. We were continually harassed by outsiders who never missed a chance to upset our plans and work. We were always in fear for the safety of our prophet. We marveled at his courage and faith in the face of the many false charges made against him, often ending with arrest and imprisonment. No matter how depressed we were, whenever we could be in his presence and listen to his voice, our fears and anguish would disappear.  On the 12^th day of January, 1844, my sons and myself were ordained Elders by Patriarch Hyrum Smith. My dear wife Frances was also baptized a member of the church. She was a wonderful wife and mother, but it took her a little longer to gain a testimony, I think hers was the stronger because she worked hard for it.  The spring and summer of 1844 brought us good crops but more trouble from our enemies. Great mobs gathered and threatened us. We could never be at ease. Finally, the terrible tragedy happened. Joseph, Hyrum, and Apostle John Taylor and Willard Richards were held in Carthage jail on some trumped-up charges. We all lived in constant anxiety, knowing of their imprisonment and realizing that the mob spirit was growing worse each day. Then the drunken mob did get out of hand and stormed the jail. Joseph and Hyrum were murdered, and Brother Taylor was shot. He later recovered. When the tragic news came, we were all stunned. Fear and hysteria spread like wildfire. Our hearts were bleeding, and our souls cried out to our Heavenly Father for solace and deliverance. He did come to our rescue, and he did soothe our aching hearts.

As the cortege carrying the bodies passed, we gazed with chilled emotions. It was a bloody scene. Why had God permitted such a thing to happen? Could we survive this great calamity? Why were we such a despised people? Was Satan now going to triumph? Surely not! God would come to our rescue. We must not turn and flee. Truth must succeed over evil. We must gird up our loins and fight harder.

After the bodies had been delivered to the mansion and cleaned up and prepared for burial, we returned on the morrow to see them. As we passed the biers, we beheld divinity here on earth.  They lay there in purity and such majesty before our eyes. But those are only earthly remains, my soul cried out in anguish. Their spirits are with Jesus, our Redeemer and God the Father. Yes! We shall see them again in the resurrection when evil has been subdued, where love and justice will abide forever.  After the funeral, we returned to our homes refreshed, with a renewed determination to carry on. We must finish the Temple and do our work so we will be able to meet our loved ones in that Celestial calm, where sorrow and pain have passed away.

Summer passed and Autumn came. Rainy weather adding to the swampy condition near the river around Nauvoo caused fever to spread among the Saints. Many fell prey to the malady and death stalked through the city. My beloved wife, Frances, whose body had become weakened through our troubles, contracted the disease and despite all our efforts and prayers, she passed away on September 29, 1844. It seemed again the tragedy and sorrow should be our continuous lot. She had been a loving, courageous mother and helpmate, always more concerned about the welfare of others than for herself. We tenderly prepared her for burial and after a lovely service we laid her earthly remains to rest in the Nauvoo cemetery. There were many others who suffered similar losses and we tried to bear each others crosses.

Work was now rushed to complete the Temple. My sons, grandsons and I worked continuously on the structure, often having only bread, sorghum and water for nourishment. When the Temple was completed we all had our endowments on January 5, 1846. My daughter-in-law, Brittiana Mayo Jolley, wife of H.B.M. stood proxy for my dear wife Frances and Frances’ parents were also endowed on January 5, 1846. We were so happy and repaid for all our troubles and past sorrows.  But the bitter cloud of hatred against us continued to rise. The mobsters of Illinois were determined to exterminate us.

Brigham and the Twelve finally gave the word to ‘flee’. Nauvoo was in a high pitch of excitement and turmoil. We hastily packed our wagons and ferried across the river in the face of bitter cold into the terrible wilderness. Our leader, Brigham Young, had a difficult decision to make and a terrible responsibility, but God was at the helm directing us, and we had faith that he would not desert us. The suffering was great and many died of exposure; others fell by the wayside, not being able to face the privations and bear the pain.

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More to come next week.

Painting depicting Henry Jolley

Henry Jolley and Frances Manning Jolley - Saints Par Excellence

Below are sketches of two very faithful Latter-day Saints, Henry Jolley and his wife Frances Manning Jolley.  They are the in-laws to Sarah Pippin Jolley who I have written about before.  Theirs is a remarkable tale of conversion, devotion, hardship and sacrifice.  I will tell their story next week.  So for now, look at their images and contemplate the great gospel family that sprang from these two faithful parents.

Henry Jolley (1789 -1850)

Frnaces Manning Jolley (1789 - 1844)

24th of July - Inglewood Style - My Recollections

The last three weeks I have written about and included other people's recollections of our pioneer ancestor, Sarah Pippin Jolley.  It was for people like her that the State of Utah declared the 24th of July,  the day Brigham Young entered the Salt Lake Valley, a state holiday.  At the mouth of Emigration Canyon he declared, "This is the right place.  Drive on."  And from that time on, tens of thousands of pioneers did exactly that,  they drove on.  They drove their wagons across the Great Plains and over the Rocky Mountains to the valley of the Great Salt Lake.  Some stayed in the Salt Lake Valley.  Others were called to settle other areas of the Mountain West.  Henry Rampton went to Sessions Settlement, which later became Bountiful.  Henry Jolley was called to settle Pleasant Grove (I will write more about him next week).  Sarah Pippin Jolley was called to help settle southern Utah.  It is for these people and the tens of thousands more like this that we honor their memory on the 24th of July. 

 There is another person whose memory we honor on that day, Grandma, Mom (Lois Fae Linnebach Rampton).  She, too, was born on the 24th of July, again, a state holiday in Utah where she was born.  And it was the custom of her family to go fishing on that holiday.  Hence, she never had a birthday party with her friends with cake and ice cream and presents.  She never mentioned celebrating her birthday on the family trips, although I'm sure they must have done something.  I'll have to ask Uncle Glen.  I think, for that reason, birthdays were a big deal to her.  But, the 24th of July was also a big deal to her, particularly in her middle age years for reasons I will mention below.

When our family moved from Salt Lake City to California in 1957 we settled in the city of Inglewood and became members of the Inglewood Ward which was part of the Inglewood Stake.  On the week end before the 24th of July the Inglewood Stake would hold a massive Pioneer Day Celebration at the stake center in Westchester.  People of today who did not experience it do not realize how huge it was.  There were games, food, a Country Store and Road Shows.  Oh yes, Road Shows, when they were taken seriously and some did actually go on the road.  As much as I disliked them in my teenage years, in my twenties I starred in two that actually were regional winners and went on tour to other stakes.  I was the bumbling tour guide in a George of the Jungle type production called "The Son of John Lemay."   In the other I set the pattern for Ryan Seacrest as the Master of Ceremonies for the "Great American Talent Contest."  I can still remember original songs from both of them. 

Come gather round us if you dare

And listen to a tale of terror
Of savage natives, please beware.
They stole the son of John Lemay..... away.

It was some twenty years ago

A man, his wife and son did go
Into to jungle full of foe.
They stole the son of John Lemay..... away.

It was a pleasure trip that ended in a scare

Mr. Lemay and his poor wife searched everywhere
But jungle natives never leave a single clue.
They took away... the little boy.  They might get you.

Now twenty years have passed away

And the Lemays returned today
To find those natives, they must pay.
They stole the son of John Lemay..... away.

So come with us to jungle land.

If you're afraid then hold my hand.
We'll catch those natives like we planned.
We'll find the son of John Lemay..... today.

And then the curtain opened there I was, the mighty jungle guide, with Mr. and Mrs. Lemay, in a large pot ready to be eaten.  But I digress.  I take that back, I don't digress because for this production Grandma was the producer.  Steven Purdy may have been the writer, composer and director, but Grandma was in charge.  In fact, she was in charge of many before that and many after that.  She made sure scenery got built and that it could fit in and out of the stage door of the stake center.  She made sure that each participant had a costume.  She didn't do all the sewing, but enlisted the help of everyone in the ward who could.  She chauffeured kids to and from practice and the closer to the 24th the more frequent the practices.  And she was the "Enforcer."  When kids acted up at the practices, they incurred the verbal wrath of Sister Rampton.  It didn't affect Roger and Jim as much as everybody else.  They were use to it.  But no one else wanted to be yelled at.  First, she would give them "the look" and if they continued, they got the verbal tirade, which of course, stopped everything because people wanted to see who she was yelling at.  And, if it ever was Roger or Jim, they got a double dose of it when they got home from Grandpa, although he never yelled.  He, however, had a way of talking to you that really made you feel remorseful.  I know from experience.  And then, she put on cast party the night of the last show.

A few years before Grandma passed away, I bought Grandma and Grandpa tickets to see "Wicked" up at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood.  I got them preferred parking and told them to make sure they got there early, which they did.   As they were sitting in their seats they began to converse with people around them.  One man said he was a producer of TV programs.  Grandpa added that Grandma produced Road Shows.  The man wanted to know what a Road Show was.  I believe Grandpa simply stated that it was a musical stage production.  Then everyone around wanted to talk to Grandma, thinking she was a famous musical producer. 

Back to the Inglewood Stake Pioneer Day Celebration.  Part of the festivities included the judging of vegetables, fruits, jams, pies, cakes, etc. like you would see at a regular county fair.  Many years they gave out blue, red and white ribbons.  Other years they gave out gold, silver and bronze medals with the persons name and category engraved on the back.  This was such a big deal that the medals were handed out in sacrament meeting.  Grandpa was always a first or second place winner for zucchini size.  There was something about the soil in the back part of his yard that zucchinis liked.  He also did well in tomatoes and squash, but never very good in carrots.  Baby carrots were not in fashion back then.  Grandma was also a winner for zucchini size because Grandpa could only enter one and he had many big ones.  But every year that I can remember, Grandma would be the gold medal winner for bottled/canned peaches.  I loved those peaches.  Every year we would take some friends and neighbors and drive out to Pearblossom to the pick your own peaches orchard.  It was a family responsibility to go.  We would pick baskets and boxes full of them, enough to fill up the back of our van or Vista Cruiser.  When we got home, Grandma would take out a few that we could eat raw.  The others got put in the giant pot of boiling water.  I don't remember how long they stayed in there, just long enough to make it easy to peel the skin off.  Then she would cut each peach in half and fill up a Mason Jar bottle with them.  She would also add some sugar and other stuff that I never knew the name of.  Then she would put the lid on and heat up the bottles in boiling water to seal the lid and cook the peaches.  I'm not sure of the exact process, but that is how I remember it.  The bottles were then cooled off  and put out in the garage with the food storage.  And from then, every night for dinner, among other things, we would have bottled peaches.  And they were gooooood!!  I especially liked them over cottage cheese.  Grandpa liked his with vanilla ice cream.  And the judges at the Pioneer Day Celebration always agreed.  Hers were the best.  But, you can't have all those peaches without making peach jam.  She always won first place for that also.  I can still taste the peach jam on the toast she would make us for breakfast.  She knew just how to mix the butter and jam on the bread.

Part of the Country Store was a bakery.  Each ward was assigned to bring so many cakes, pies and cookies each day.  Then those who attended would buy them.  This was a great fund raiser.  Grandma always made apple pies and chocolate chip cookies to donate.  (This was in addition to her work on the Road Shows.)  Grandpa and I would always hang out around the bakery booth at the times the foods from the Inglewood Ward Relief Society were going to be put out.  I bought all the chocolate chip cookies and he bought all the apple pies that Grandma had made.  We should have just donated the money and saved her the trouble of transporting all those delicious baked goods to the stake center.

Her participation in the Pioneer Day Celebration did not end here.  Every year our ward was in charge of the hamburger booth.  I'm not sure what year this began, probably the fifties when two brothers, Kay and Cal Rohner, built a huge grill and put a restaurant quality process of putting out hamburgers in place.  When Kay Rohner became bishop of our ward, people began to call the hamburgers "Rohner-burgers."  Grandpa became bishop after Kay Rohner, but they still remained "Rohner-burgers."  When I became bishop they remained "Rohner-burgers."  The secret to burgers was the thick-sliced tomatoes, crisp lettuce leafs and hamburger meat full of fat.  Every year that I can remember Grandma would go to the produce market in downtown Los Angeles early, early in the morning and compete with the restaurant chefs for the best tomatoes and lettuce.  And she always got what she wanted.  She would then bring them back to the hamburger booth ready to be washed, sliced and served.  Lines would form down the length of the parking lot with people waiting for their "Rohner-burger" which the Ramptons really perfected, but that's another story.  Not only did she do this, but she managed to spend time in the hamburger booth slicing the tomatoes. 

One other thing:  during my time as bishop we did not have her do the Road Shows.  Instead, I called her to be the Primary President in our ward.  Even this calling had a Pioneer Day responsibility.  On the Saturday morning of the celebration was the Primary Pioneer Parade.  The kids from each ward dressed up in pioneer or native American attire and pushed or pulled their wagons and hand carts through the streets of Westchester, many times with a police escort.  Grandma was in charge of making sure each child had a costume and transportation to get there on Saturday morning by 8 a.m.

So, the 24th of July Pioneer Day Celebration in the Inglewood Stake was a big, big deal for the Ramptons, especially Grandma: Road Show producer, food contest winner,  baked goods provider, parade master and quality food purchaser.  That was her 24th of July for most her adult life.

But, we, her sons and husband, made sure she always had a family birthday party, either directly on her birthday if it did not conflict with the Pioneer Day Celebration or if it did, then on the Sunday after the celebration.  Nothing fancy, a nice dinner, cake, ice cream and presents.  Oh yes, and that Happy Birthday sign that she always hung up in the kitchen for all our birthdays was appropriately displayed, even then.

The actual prop I used for the guidebook.  Found it in the bottom of my file cabinet.

Sarah Pippin Jolley - Conclusion

Never did the words from the hymn Come, Come Ye Saints describe anyone as they did Sister Sarah Pippin Jolley:  "...gird up your loins, fresh courage take, our God will never us forsake.  And soon we'll have this tale to tell.  All is well.  All is well."  What a tale Sarah Pippin Jolley had to tell.  I wonder how many times she bore her testimony over the year of the blessings she received for showing courage in the face of trials, losing her husband on the plains, crossing the plains with 8 children, accepting calls to settle numerous parts of Utah.

To David, Travis and Kevin:  In the future there will probably come a time when you are asked to speak in Church around the 24th of July, Pioneer Day.  When you do, I want you to remember two things:  (1) that Grandma (Lois Fae Linnebach Rampton) was born on Pioneer Day and never got a birthday party since her family always went fishing on that holiday and (2) Sarah Pippin Jolley.

 This is a history written by Sarah's granddaughter.

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History of Reuben Manning Jolley and Sarah Pippin Jolley by the their Granddaughter

 Reuben Manning Jolley, son of Henry and Frances Manning Jolley, was born in North Carolina.  His parents were well-to-do farmers and owned land and slaves.  In 1825 Henry Jolley and family moved to the western part of Tennessee, near Dresden.  Reuben Manning was a young man about seventeen years old, and being the oldest son, was his father's assistant at the time.

Sarah Pippin, daughter of Loftis and Mary Hall Pippin, was born in Franklin County, North Carolina, twenty-five miles east of Raleigh. When Sarah was fourteen years old the Pippins moved to the Western part of Tennessee in Weakley County where she met her future husband.  On January 13, 1829 Reuben Manning Jolley and Sarah Pippin were married.  Both of them were very young.  He was not yet twenty-one and she was several months under seventeen.

Reuben Manning and  Sarah Pippin Jolley settled near Dresden where they, lived for thirteen years and seven of their children were born there.

When Mary Ann was about three years old she put her mouth over the spout of a boiling tea kettle which caused her death February10, 1839. She was buried in Dresden.

It was at their home near Dresden that the Gospel was brought to Reuben Manning and Sarah Pippin Jolley by two Mormon missionaries, who gave them a copy of the Book of Mormon and said they would visit them again.  Believing the marvelous things they had heard to be true, they set about reading the Book of Mormon and were soon converted to the righteousness.  Reuben Manning Jolley and wife Sarah Pippin Jolley were baptized  February 18, 1842.

On April 21, 1842, the family started for Nauvoo to be with the body of the Church. When the command came to build a temple the Jolley family was ready to serve.  Reuben Manning and his older sons worked until the temple was completed.

The family had very litt1e of this world's goods. They had sacrificed and struggled to bring their large family from Tennessee, but they worked hard and were thankful for what they had.

Reuben Manning Jolley was ordained au Elder January 12, 1844. Grandma wrote, in the sketch she left, that she and her husband received their endowments in the Nauvoo Temple, January 5, 1846. She also wrote that after the martyrdom of the Prophet and Patriarch, they were in the crowd which followed the bodies to the Mansion. They were again on the morrow to gaze upon their faces.

When Joseph Loftis was six weeks o1d the family crossed the Mississippi River, May 6, 1846. They stopped at Kaeusuaga, Iowa, where they lived two years.

Henry Gideon, their tenth child, was born in Kaeusuaga, November 28, 1848.

The parents and children worked hard to get means to continue their journey. After twenty days of illness, Reuben Manning Jolley died of pneumonia. April 29, 1849. He was buried in the cemetery at Kaeusuaga, Iowa.

Grandma wrote in her sketch: "I was left with nine children; no house nor home; my babe in my arms and among stranger.  I was broken up.  He told me on his death bed that he was going to leave me for a while but he wanted me, as soon as I could, to go to the valley of the mountains, to the bosom of the Church, and take all of the children with me.  I strove to do so and have ever borne it in mind."

June 2, 1849 grandma and her children started for Council Bluffs, where they spent theWinterof1849.  Grandma wrote that she had a hard time getting food and clothing for her children.  The cholera was very bad; two of the children came near unto death, but the Hand of the Lord was over them and He saw fit to spare them, grandma said.

June 6, 1850, the brave little mother and children started for the Salt Lake Valley, where they arrived in September 1850. They were met on Emigration Street by their grandfather, Henry Jolley, who had arrived in the valley two years before.  He took them to his home.  Grandma wrote that times in the valley were very hard and not much food.

The crickets had devoured most of the crops, but the grandfather had traded a corner of his lot for a cow so the children could have milk.

Later in the year of 1850 grandma and family were called to go to what is now Pleasant Grove, Utah, accompanied by their grandfather. The boys built a smal1 house to help make a fort.

Henry Jolley did not live long but died of pneumonia, December 20, 1850, at Pleasant Grove.

Washington Lafayette was sent to Texas to preach the Gospel in 1852.

Grandma moved in 1852 with her children to Springville, then on to Spanish Fork and then to Payson, where on of her boys was shot by Indians as he stood guard for the to town.  Her son, William, as ambushed east of Springville and shot in the arm.

William recovered but Pelic Berry who was shot in the eye, never got over it and died from its effects November 12, 1862.

In 1862 the Jolley family was called to help settle Utah's Dixie.  Grandma answered the call with her children and suffered the hardships incident to that barren part of the state.  She helped in the planting and cultivation of cotton.  She carded and spun it and, with the loom she had brought with her from Nauvoo, made clothes for her family.

After the completion of their mission, grandma and the younger members of the family came north to Moroni, Sanpete County, where she spent the remaining years of her life.  She studied and became a midwife, which profession she practiced  until she was in her seventies. 

Grandma's little home still stands on the main street of Moroni, where she lived so many years and was honored as a noble mother and held in respect as a superior woman.

Sarah Pippin Jolley remained true and faithful to the Gospel and taught the Book of Mormon in Sunday School many years.  She was loved, honored and revered by her children, among them were missionaries, bishops and patriarchs.  She passed away December 11, 1889, at Moroni and was buried on a knoll overlooking the cemetery.  A tall, beautiful white monument marks the sacred spot.

                                  by Lydia Jolley Sheffield (grand-daughter)

Obituary of Sarah Pippin Jolley

We all go through trials and tribulations.  And if we haven't, we will.  That is just part of life.  In fact, it is part of why we are here on this earth.  For me, this lymphoma thing is a trial.  For Grandma (Lois Fae Linnebach Rampton) most of her adult life was a trial with one health issue or another.  We have these trials to see how well we endure them.  In the Liberty Jail, the Lord said to the Prophet Joseph Smith; "My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine  adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;  And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes."  The key is enduring well.  I believe that Sarah Pippin Jolley was one who endured well.  I include one more section on her next week.  But here is an obituary written by Jane Bailey who was the Relief Society President in Moroni, Utah when Sarah died at the age of  77, the last 50 years spent as a widow.

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Died at Moroni, Sanpete County, Utah.  November 9. Sarah Pippin Jolley, wife of Reuben Manning Jolley

Deceased was born May 9, 1812 in North Carolina.  Moved with her parents to Tennessee, Weakley County, in 1842.  The Gospel was carried to them by Elder Clapp and others.  They received the  Gospel message and with a family of five children emigrated to Nauvoo, Hancock County, Illinois.  They were living there at the time of the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith and Hyrum Smith.  Were driven with the Saints from their homes and started for the Rocky Mountains but were advised to remain on the other side of the Missouri River on account of the delicate health of the family.  It was at this place, April 29, 1849 that Reuben Jolley became a victim to death through the hardships and exposure with which they passed.  Now Sister Jolley was a widow with ten children.  Brother Jolley told his wife to continue the journey and follow the Church.  After laying her husband away and marking the place with a beautiful headstone, she started with her children once more for the West and came to Council Bluffs and the next year 1850 came to the Salt Lake with all her children but one son who married and remained behind.

After arriving in Utah she struggled hard to make her family comfortable and passed through many trials.

There are eight children and over two hundred grandchildren and great grandchildren to mourn her loss.

Sister Jolley was one of the first members of the Relief Society, labored as a teacher and for many years as a Counselor to President Jane Bailey.  She was also a Sunday School teacher for years.  She was an excellent nurse among the sick.  Sister Jolley spent her life in usefulness and has worked considerably in the Temple for the dead.  May she rest in peace.

written by Jane Bailey

Sarah Pippin Jolley

The last few months much of my Sunday activities involve watching BYU TV.  Because of my immunity issues I am not able to go to church.  So this has been my Sunday worship activity:  Music and the Spoken Word, History of the Saints, The Joseph Smith Papers, Discussions of the Book of Mormon, and Discussions of the Pearl of Great Price.  All are very uplifting and informative.  Recently, on History of the Saints, they were talking about the Saints being driven out of Nauvoo.  It was interesting to note that not all the Saints left at the same time.  Not all of them camped at the same place.  There were Saints camped all over Iowa and Nebraska.  Many of them stayed in those little communities for 2 to 3 years.  They built cabins and planted crops.  They readied themselves to move to the Rocky Mountains.  These programs become all the more meaningful when you realize you have ancestors who experienced these times.  One such woman was Sarah Pippin Jolley,  born Sarah Pippin on 28 May 1812 in Louisburg, North Carolina.  In 1829 she married Reuben Manning Jolley.  They had 10 children.

Almost every July that I can remember, Grandpa (Charles Cash Rampton, Jr.)  would be asked to speak in Sacrament Meeting and tell pioneer stories.  And every time he did, he would tell the story of Sarah Pippin Jolley, great-grandmother of Grandma Ethel (Ethel Frances Jolley.) 

At some time in her life she wrote a short autobiography.  It was not very long, but it gives us some insight into her life and the life she had to endure as a pioneer mother in Utah.  Here is her writings:

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 Autobiography of Sarah Pippin Jolley

I was born in North Carolina, Franklin County, twenty-five miles east of Raleigh, on the 28th of May 1812, My parents lived there until I was about fourteen years old. Then they came to Tennessee; the western part to

Weekly County. There I married to Reuben M. Jolley, on the 13th of January1829.

William G. Jolley was born the 8th of November 1829 in Tennessee. Then Washington L. Jolley was born May 16, 1831 in Tennessee, Weekly Co. R.B. Jolley was born March 16,1834 in Tennessee, Weekly Co. Sarah Ann was born December 18, 1838 in Tennessee, Weekly Co. Marion Jolley was born April 9, 1841 in Weekly Co. Tennessee. Reuben M. Jolley was born in Illinois, Hancock Co. Nauvoo, June 4th, 1843. Joseph was born in Illinois, Hancock Co. Nauvoo, March 24th, 1846. Henry Jolley was born November 28th, 1848, Iowa, Anuran Co. Sarah G. was born in Utah Co. the l7th of September 1862 at Payson City.

We lived in Tennessee, Weekly Co. until 1848. My husband and myself, we embraced the gospel and were baptized on the 18th of February in 1842. The 21st of April the same year, we started for Nauvoo. We lived through the troubles while Joseph and Hyrum were murdered at Carthage jail. My husband and myself were there to behold that bloody scene. I was one that was one in the company that followed the corps to the Mansion, when we all went home and came on the morrow to see them, which was a sight to behold. Then the word came to build a temple. My husband and the boys worked on the temple until it was done. Many days they worked and had nothing to eat but bread and water, but it was good. I did not complain. I had the privilege of going through the temple with my husband, so I was paid in full for all my troubles.

In 1846, we left Nauvoo, crossed the river, on the 5th of May. In Iowa, Anuran Co. there we lived a little over two years. We all were working to get something to come up to the Church. We had traveled around until we had not much to travel with but a large family. We were getting ready to start to Salt Lake when my husband was taken sick. He was sick twenty days and died on the 29th of April 1849. There I was left with ten children, no house nor home; among strangers, a babe in my arms three months old, I was broke up. When he was on his death bed he would talk and tell me what he wanted me to do a little at a time until he told me he wanted, he said he was going to leave me for a while, but he wanted me, as soon as I could, to come to the valleys of the mountains, to the basin of the church and bring the children all with me, so I strive to do so. I have ever born it in mind. I buried him the first day of May, at Keasackway grave yard, Anuran, Co., Iowa. In 1849, 2nd. day of July, my children and me started for Council Bluffs. There we wintered. Next spring, the 6th day of June we started for Salt Lake. In 1850 I had a hard time with my little children, but the hand of Lord was over me and children and all we had with us, Cholera was very bad that year. Two of my children came near unto death, but the Lord seen fit to spare them.

I arrived in the valleys on the 27th of September in 1850. I had not much to live upon, times were very hard for the grasshoppers and crickets had eaten everything up.

Grandfather Jolley came on before we did. When he heard we were coming he met me and the children on Immigration St. He took us to his home. We stopped there a few days. He said he was going to move to Utah County, to a place called Pleasant Grove. He moved there about the 15th of October. Then my boys moved a little house to help to make a fort. On the 20th of December, grandfather Jolley died and was buried at the same place. I then felt as if I was I was lost again, but had to so the best I could.

In 1852, Washington L. Jolley was called to go on a mission to the states to preach the gospel. The Indians proved to be very bad. In 1853 I had. two of my boys shot. One never got over it, the other is living but is a cripple in his right arm.

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Below I will insert the only known picture of her.  I assume it was taken near the end of her life.  The lines and wrinkles are indicative of the trials she went through.  I do not believe that she ever remarried.  She was faithful in whatever she was called to do in the Church including settling Pleasant Grove, Springville, Payson, Spanish Fork and St. George.  Following the last assignment in Saint George she moved to Moroni, Utah where she spent to rest of her days.  Next week I will include her obituary and some other notes about her.