Cleon Earl Jackson Would be 100 Today

My grandfather Cleon Earl Jackson was born to Robert Earl Jackson and Sarah (Judd) Jackson April 22, 1915 in Fredonia, Cleon Earl JacksonArizona. I write this from the nearby town of Hurricane, Utah. Cleon Jackson would marry Mildred Carpenter in 1939 in Kanab, Utah and eventually settle in the nearby town of Glendale, Utah. He worked at a number of trades but I always knew him as a heavy equipment (Caterpillar) operator. I don’t know  when he became a Caterpillar operator (or “cat skinner”, as it is sometimes called), but his enlistment papers in 1945 list heavy equipment operator as his occupation. You can see his road cuts all over southern Utah. I don’t quite have the eye, but my mother and her family can spot them instantly. Of course, his work was not limited to highway construction. According to family tradition (and someday I will have to document this) he pulled the first cable over Glen Canyon Dam.

He spent a lot of time outdoors and had an amazing eye. I still remember a time when my sister and I were in a pickup truck with him (heading for an area known as “the bench”) when he turned the truck around and stopped to show us a tarantula crossing the road. He had many skills, not the least of which was that he spoke fluent Navajo. That is one of the many things I would have loved to have heard more about, but it’s not something he talked about much, at least with us. One thing I always admired about him is that he would hunt to feed his family. I don’t remember him as being a typical sportsman, but someone who knew how to live off the land. He loved to read. I’m told he’d read the Old Testament for pleasure and laugh at many of the stories (which, let’s be honest can be funny at times). To me, that’s a great example of how to take scripture seriously, both as literature and a religious text. There is so much that we could learn from that example.

Unfortunately, he died fairly young, February 7, 1981. I miss him.

Will of Aaron Jackson

Today, we have another in a series of historical documents. Aaron Jackson (1783-1837) was a Pennsylvania farmer and father of Jesse Taylor Jackson. I haven’t been able to learn much about him, but this document tells us that he owned a farm (he calls it a plantation) of about 70 acres, and it seems a fair amount of livestock (horses and cattle), not to mention hogs. He bequeaths it all to his wife Abigail during her life, and then what remains to his children after her death. In addition to confirming where he lived and his property holdings, this document provides and independent source for dates and the names of his children (all of whom we know of through other sources). I have corrected OCR errors but retained the spelling of the original document. [Read more…]

Biographical Details

You never know when you are going to come across small biographical details. Today, I set myself the task of looking for information about the marriage of Aaron Jackson (father of Jesse Taylor Jackson) and Abigail Taylor. For some reason, there doesn’t seem to be much information available. A simple search yielded only a Millennium File entry and a few Ancestry.com member trees, none of which included sources for the marriage. That’s odd, too, because there is quite a bit of information about his father Robert Jackson, and his son, Jesse Taylor Jackson. Unfortunately, The Millennium File is a compendium of extracts from Ancestry File, and though it is a useful starting point when looking for information, it isn’t always the most reliable of sources, and does not contain any documentation. My policy is to reference it, but not rely on it as a sole source.

Fortunately for us, there is a biography of Jesse Taylor Jackson available in manuscript form, and thanks to the Family History Library in Salt Lake City, it is even available online. Unfortunately, I still don’t have much in the way of details, but the one reference (so far) to the marriage of Aaron and Abigail does include an interesting family tradition:

When Aaron Jackson was in his early twenties, he married Abigail Taylor. She was born in the state of New York,but family records do not have any further information about her early life. Family tradition tells that she was a large, powerful woman; that she could lift large bags of flour and grain with ease. I know she produced two stalwart sons; namely, Robert Andrew and Jesse Taylor Jackson, and possibly her other children were of good size (Autobiography of Jesse Taylor Jackson, p. 6).

I have no idea of what the origin of this tradition is, or if it can be corroborated, but it does an add a bit of interesting color to the Jackson Family story. Finding details like this can be a slow process, and one that requires us to look for letters, journal entries and, if we’re lucky, Quaker Meeting minutes and similar sources.

So, how can you go about finding details like this in the stories of your ancestors? First and foremost, ask. If you have grandparents or aunts and uncles, that can tell you about your family story, sit down and talk to them. You may even wish to consider formal interviews. You may be fortunate enough to have ancestors such as Quakers or Mormons who maintained journals, meeting minutes and other records. Or, for that matter, you may be fortunate enough to have an ancestor who kept a regular journal or diary. Other people keep letters that may be available to you. The only thing to do is ask.

Remembrances part 2

[This is a continuation of Remembrances by Myra Jackson Cram, one in a series of first person histories.]

When Matlan was about eight or ten years old, he went out with Dad and a group from Fredonia to catch fawns on the Mountain. Matlan got lost. He was out all night before they found him. Mother was very upset. It made quite an impression on me.

Matlan was very kind, gentle, and patient. He loved animals. He was always taking care of some animal. Once he got a new puppy. He and the puppy went to the woodpile to chop wood. He accidentally hit the puppy in the head with the ax and killed it. It really upset him. It took him awhile to get over it.

Big poplar trees lined the street in front of Cecil’s and my house. One got blown over and it just missed our house. All the men were gone but Matlan, and he had a broken arm. We were afraid one would fall on our house, or Mom’s and Dad’s. Matlan said he would drive the truck to pull them down, but I would have to climb up to hook the chain around them. He sat in that truck, yelled up at me to higher, much higher, and laughed and laughed. But we got the trees pulled down.

Matlan died 25 Dec 1947. He was working near Evanston, Wyoming as a sheepherder. He and another herder were staying out together with the sheep. Matlan was shot in the head with a handgun. (The other herder said Matlan shot himself.) The coroner ruled it was a suicide. A Doctor at the hospital said there were no powder burns. When it happened, everyone went to Evanston. Mom and Dad stayed up there after everyone went home. When she got home Mom said she just wanted to let it drop. No matter what happened, Matlan was gone.

At Easter, the entire town would go out to Big Springs for an Easter picnic. It was a lot of fun. I don’t remember how we got there. Only that everyone went and we had a lot of fun.

Duard and I decided to go horseback riding. We started out early. We weren’t very old because we had go have something to stand on to get on the horses. We took a saddle from a horse named Felt and workhorse named Diamond. Diamond was one of a team. I can’t remember the name of the other half of the team. Billy Judd had a team named Dewey and Dolly at that time, but I can’t remember the name of the other half of our team. Duard and I decided we would like to go to the sheep herd and see Dad. I didn’t know the way but Duard said he did. We had gone quite a ways when I fell off my horse. Since there was nothing to stand on Duard decided to take my arm and pull me up on his horse. But when he tried, I was too heavy and pulled him off. Since we were both on foot, we headed back to town. It was after dark when we got home. Mom had the whole town looking for us. [Read more…]

Remembrances part 1

[This is another in a series of first person histories, in this case, a series of memories recorded by Myra Jackson Cram.]

I didn’t realize I was the oldest Grandchild, until Val reminded me.

I remember mostly, Grandma Jackson was a stately lady, and her house always had a good smell to it and was very clean all the time.

They didn’t always have a furnace. They had a big pot-bellied stove in the corner of the dining room. Before they built the furnace room.

I remember when Laree had rheumatic fever and Grandma Jackson came down to help swab her throat with soda.

Grandma Jackson always wore a tan sweater around the house to keep warm.

She told me they lived in the little red wash house when Earl (Dad) was born. They were getting ready to go down to Grandma Pratt’s for dinner and she got Earl all cleaned up and told Grandpa to watch him while she got ready. Grandpa let him get in the dirt and she was upset at him. So she got clean clothes for Earl and she threw them at Grandpa to put on Earl. They lit it in the bathtub where she had bathed. It was the last clean ones Earl had.

Grandpa Jackson used to walk down to check on us. I remember him playing with Delma and her doll. He would sing with Delma and rock her in the chair with the doll. When Grandpa died Delma buried her doll with him.

I rode in Grandpa Jackson’s car. I think Uncle Harold was driving. Anyway, Uncle Asa always had a lot of cows in the street by his corral and the road was slick. We were going slow and hit a calf. We dragged it clear to Pop wash before we realized we were dragging it.

When Grandma Jackson got older, Aunt Leone came down every week and went through the house to keep it clean. I remember going over to Grandma Pratt’s for butter and milk when our cows were dry. Grandpa Pratt would meet us at the door and kiss us hello. Then he’d play “Silver Threads Among the Gold” on the piano and kiss us good-by. He had a broom stick mustache. He had a new green Chevrolet car he would drive in low gear all the way to Kanab.

When Grandpa Jackson died, I don’t know who, but someone, got to the sheep camp to take word of his death. When Earl (Dad) got home he was almost frozen. I remember he had frost in his ears. We all rubbed his feet and hands to get the circulation going. He rode an old mule to town. He said the snow was so deep the mule would get stuck and he would have to get off and tromp the snow down to get the mule out. I think that was the winter that someone’s team dropped into one of those old blow holes out there. They had to haul water and feed to them until they could get them out.

When Grandma Jackson was sick, Grandpa Jackson mopped the floor, on his hands and knees, for her.

Grandma Jackson told me Lindy got a BB gun for Christmas. Carol Jean had a little friend come to play and Lindy shot them with his BB gun. Grandma said she went out, got that BB gun and wrapped it around a tree.

After we moved back from Phoenix, I went up each week and did Grandma’s hair for Sunday. One week she had a little package for my birthday. She said Cecil’s Dad (Alexander Cram) gave it to her and Grandpa for a wedding present. It was a little pitcher minus the handle. She said it was a bread and milk  set. It had a dish with it when it was new. But it was minus the dish when I got it. It is a beautiful little pitcher.

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We got to eat red mush (cereal) at the sheep herd. Dad always got his water from the reservoir. There was so much red sand in it that it turned the mush red.

There was only one ointment at the sheep herd. Dad put Vicks on you, no matter what the ailment. One time I got sore from riding a horse bareback all day. Out came the Vicks. It didn’t feel very good. Another time Dad gave Gwen his pocketknife to use and told me not to use the big butcher knife. Of course I did anyway. I cut right down through my thumbnail. Dad put Vicks on it and wrapped it up. Boy did I bawl.

Dad and Mother took Eris, Duard and I to Kane Ranch in House Rock, about 60 miles from Fredonia. The car we were in looked like a race car. It had only one seat and was pointed at the front and the back. Since there was no rumble seat, Dad put me on the back to ride. He tied me on so I wouldn’t fall off. I guess Eris and Duard rode up front with Mom and Dad, I don’t remember. The car had more power in reverse, so every time we came to a steep hill, Dad would have to back up all the way to the top.

On our way home from church, Mother and I saw Cleon and Matlan drilling a well. They had a pipe attached to a board. The board went through the fence for leverage. They would push down on the board to raise the pipe. They let go and the pipe would hit the ground, making a hole. When they raised the pipe, I leaned down to peer in the hole. They let go of the pipe. It split my nose and I got blood all over my Sunday dress, made from tan pongee. I was six years old at the time.

One time, I put Norma down for a nap while we at Mother’s. When I went in to check on her, she was gone. We searched everywhere. When we finally found her, she was several blocks away, in the church, sitting on the front row, cracking and eating pine nuts, listening to the speaker. I had to go in, get her and haul her out.

I learned to drive in a Model T Ford. Dad would let me take it out past Fannie Ellis’ and to the cemetery. There were no fences, so I could drive all over the hills and not get into too much trouble.

We did have a few mishaps with the car. Matlan and Cleon took the old V8 Ford while Mother was in Church. They were just going to go to Red Point and back. They rolled it and Cleon broke his leg. When they took him up to Old Doc Norris to have it set, he told Mother she should be able to set bones without him. Her family had enough of them. Matlan broke both arms one time, then broke one of them again later. I was washing windows on the outside of Mom’s and Dad’s house. As I didn’t have a ladder, I was standing on the ledge in the siding. When I finished, I jumped down and broke my arm. I wasn’t very old.

I was coming home from play practice once in the V8 Ford when I passed out and hit a light pole on Main Street, just west of our house. I was coming down with the measles, or chicken pox, or something. Anyway, I wasn’t feeling too well.

I was backing the same V8 Ford out of the garage and knocked the door off. I opened the door to look behind me so I wouldn’t hit anything. The door got caught on the door jam and came right off.

Matlan and Cleon fought all the time. They enjoyed fighting and wrestling with each other. Matlan bought a pair of boxing gloves for them to use. Cleon enjoyed singing. I wish I had a tape of him yodeling. He sang all the time. Matlan and Cleon were sleeping in the old blue three-quarter bed in the living room. Mom, Gwen and I were up late, sitting at the dining room table, making flowers for Memorial Day. All at once, Cleon sat up in bed and started singing. Then Matlan got out of bed and started shadow boxing. Just as suddenly, Cleon stopped singing, and then Matlan went back to bed, and everything was quiet again. Neither one remembered anything about it the next morning. They accused us of telling stories.