Autobiographical notes of Sarah Judd Jackson

I was born at Fredonia, Arizona March 22, 1895 in a little two room lumber house in the western  side of town, next to the creek where Barney B. home now stands. My father’s name was Ira Judd, son of Hiram Judd and Lisiana Fuller. My mother’s name was Hannah Louise Lewis Judd, daughter of Dr. Aaron Lewis and Sarah Ann Weeks. I was the fourth child, my parents having 2 boys and 1 girl older than I. My father was a polygamist and owned two lots which run back to the creek. Also cattle and horses.

When I was a year old, my father sold our home to Levi Seth Dunham (another polygamist) and moved to Ogden, Utah. He had planned to go to Idaho, but by the time we reached Ogden it was cold – our family large and supplies running low. [A friend, Ike Cooper who had previously moved to Idaho, begged my father to sell out and move up there. My mother did not want to go and plead with him to take his other wife and leave her in Arizona, but his mind was made up and he disposed of all he had, which about broke her heart.] The winter spent at Ogden was quite an eventful year, my mother gave birth to son Parley Wilford Dec. 12, 1896. My half sister Rebecca Judd who had married Abia William Lee Brown before leaving Fredonia had separated and in spring May 17, 1897 gave birth to a daughter Dezzie Delores Brown. Father decided to head back south, so with his first wife Nancy Ann Norton, her daughter Rebecca and her baby, together with my mother and her five children, we crippled back to our old home town where we were once happy and may father well to do. Now broke and his two hands to make a living for his two families.

A carpenter by trade and a pretty good barber and blacksmith, he used to say he was a Jack of all Trades and a master of none. Lived here and there until he could buy and build two homes.

One of my earliest recollections was when I was taken by my mother to visit Aunt Alice Judd, wife of my father’s cousin Asa W. Judd and Walters mother who lived in a one room shanty where the Jensen’s home now stands. We then lived in a lean to of the house that is now Uncle Asa Judd’s home but then belonged to McCallister of Kanab. It was there that my mother – later – gave birth to another son Roy June 24, 189-. Mother was attended by an old Danish lady, Caroline Foremaster. Soon after that Uncle Asa bought the home from McCallister, also a polygamist. He moved his second wife Angie Brown back to Kanab and my father bought a one room log cabin out east of town from Joe Carpenter. This was my mother’s home until I was nine years old. Father built a lumber two room house for his first wife. I was taught to believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ from my infancy. Before I was old enough to go to school, I saw the first manifestation of the laying on of hands, to heal the sick. This gave me a testimony that still remains with me and has grown strong through the years.It was living at the little log house; my father had dug a cellar on the north side of the house, where it would be cool. While we were playing, we heard a peculiar noise that sounded more like the squeak of a baby rabbit in distress, we followed the sound the cellar and found that my brother Parley next younger than me had been looking from the peek or top of the cellar and had fallen over and lay at the bottom of the steps. I ran for my mother while my sister Vida, four years older than I, went down the steps to the aid of my brother. He was carried in the house unconscious, everything possible was done to revive him but to no avail. All members of the family had been called in, including my father’s first wife who was a practical nurse. My brother had ceased making any sound and I heard the grownups of the family say there is just a faint sign of life – it looks like he will not last long. Here my mother asked my older brother to go for the elders to administer to him. (Elders of the Church) It seemed like the elders were at a long time coming – and by the time they arrived, it seemed like he was going despite everything. (Uncle Asa Judd and Eli Cox were the elders who came) Wile we were still praying for him as they were sealing the anointing he brought his hands up and laid them on their hands. By the time they were through, he opened his eyes. He was weak and shaken – but by evening was around the house. The next morning at Sunday School Uncle Asa told the story of his healing and asked if anyone knew who it was. I was happy to say it was my brother.

That fall, father took us to visit my mother’s sister who lived in Tropic, Garfield County, Utah. The road went by Johnson Town and up Johnson Canyon. We went by way of Pahreah, the town where my father hand lived with his two wives before coming to and making his home in Fredonia. I was still not old enough to go to school. On the way, we passed an Indian camp, and they waved and shouted to my mother and father. They were acquainted with the span of horses my father drove, two white mares – Doll and her colt Bess. We camped that night at Pahreah and I was so thrilled to see the great gorge and the high rock walls of Pahreah canyon, a creek with water in it. Father and my oldest brother took the horses to a pasture my father had owned, while mother prepared our evening meal. They did not check all the fence. Our blankets were soon spread down for the night and after saying our prayers, for we seemed even closer to the Lord than usual, we were snuggled in our beds – where we enjoyed counting the stars and singing ourselves to sleep. Morning came and we were up and dressed, not wanting to miss any of those wonderful sights. After making the fire, father went to get the horses while mother prepared breakfast. Once at the pasture he found tracks and a hole in the fence. Horses gone. And although they were hobbled they had headed for home. Father ate a hurried breakfast and started down the road, telling my mother that he would be back as soon as possible. He expected to trail the horses home – for they had such a long start ahead of him. After walking several miles, he heard shouts and soon came in sight of several Indians bringing his horses to him. I heard him say many times “be good to the Indians, once a friend they will never forget you.”. The trip on on up Pahreah Canyon to Tropic, Utah was a nice trip, one I shall never forget. My mother was so happy to see her sister and family Mr. and Mrs. Alva Tippets and family 3 children.

Grandmother Lewis and son Martin N. Lewis were also living at the Tippetts home my grandfather Lewis having died a few years before We visited with them several days before heading home.

[Date unknown – copied from one of Sarah’s many notepads.]