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Show Volume XXX Issue VII The Ogden Valley News Page 9 June 15, 2023 The Autobiography of Elizabeth Alice Marshall Chard I, Elizabeth Alice Marshall Chard, was born at Liberty, Utah 15 March 1881. My father was John Marshall, born 20 August 1847 in Scotland. My mother was Christina Burt, born 11 June 1857 in Scotland. They joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and came to Utah while very young. They lived in different places until they were married. They then settled in Liberty, Utah. Here I was born and have lived up to the present time [probably around the early 1900s]. Liberty is in a beautiful valley surrounded by high mountains. My home was in a beautiful spot in the center of this lovely valley. My father was a farmer. I have two brothers and four sisters. I can look back on my childhood days with great joy, as I remember the many happy days I spent with my parents and brothers and sisters. My parents always strived to teach me about God, and the true principles of the gospel. I was baptized when I was eight years old and became a member of the Church. I joined the different organizations as I grew old enough, until I was sixteen years of age. Then I was sustained as counselor in the YLMIA [Young Ladies’ Mutual Improvement Association, which ran from 1904-1934] where I held this position until 1919. I asked to be released because my family was young, and I had a lot of responsibility in my home. I have lived in the valley all my life. I love the snowcapped peaks of Ben Lomond. I have always loved the valley. It is so different [during] all four seasons of the year. In the summer, everything is so green and fragrant; fall with its gold, red, and brown is too beautiful for an artist to paint; winter with its blanket of white; and spring, wonderful spring, with its buds and flowers and birds. My father died when I was about nine years old. I have many fond memories of him and the lessons he taught me. We had a great many financial troubles after my father died. It was a few years after the “boom.” To us the times were much harder than this depression has been, for there was no government aid. If we could sell produce from the farm, it was for almost nothing. We had lots of sickness as well as financial troubles. There was a faith-promoting incident that happened in my life which made me know that God hears and answers prayers. I had been to Eden, a little town southwest of Liberty, to the store to buy some groceries, as there was not a store in our town. When I returned home, I did not feel well. I sat down behind the stove and went to sleep. I can remember it as well as if it happened yesterday. When I awoke, I thought I had been asleep for days. My throat was sore, and badly swollen. I could not walk. Some of the neighbors came in to see me and said I had diphtheria, and it was the bad kind. They told stories about how many had died in North Ogden with diphtheria and that mother could make up her mind that I would not get better. But mother would not let herself think that way. People would come and do the chores and bring to the door the milk and eggs we needed, but no one would come in, for they were afraid of catching the dreaded disease. There were only two doctors in Ogden at that time. They had to travel the eighteen miles over bad roads in a horse and buggy to get to Liberty. There was no telephone. Someone would have to go on horseback to Ogden to get the doctor. We had no money to pay a doctor, so mother did the best she could by herself. She worked and prayed alone. I had been sick for a week. My throat was swollen so badly and was so sore I could hardly breathe. I had to sit up in bed sometimes to get my breath. We all had diphtheria, but Mary Ellen and I were the worst. One night we were both very bad. Mother knelt at the side of the bed and prayed for us. She was holding the baby for she was sick and cross. She sat on the front of the bed so she could be near us. Mary Ellen said, “Mother, I am awful sick. You don’t know how sick. I am.” “Yes,” Mother said, “you are both very sick, but you will get better.” Then mother told us later, she dozed off to sleep. In her sleep, my father came. He stood at the back of the bed and said, “They are very sick girls. I shall administer to them.” He put one hand on my head, and the other one on Mary Ellen’s head. Mother reached over and put her hand on Mary Ellen’s head and laid her arm on my head. Father administered to us. When he finished, he said, “They will get well. Watch them carefully. In the morning, the mucous will break loose in their throats. Be ready with the silver spoon, and dig it out, so it will not get down in their throats and choke them. Do not worry. You will raise all the children.” Then Martha fussed and awakened her. She looked back and father was gone. She got Martha settled down, got the silver spoon Grandma Burt had given us to use when medicine was given, put it in boiling water and had it ready. She told us about her dream. So, we were ready to do our part. Mary Ellen’s broke loose first. She dug it out of her throat with the silver spoon. It looked like a big oyster. I can remember us sitting up in bed digging the hard tough mucous out of my throat. It did not come in one piece. I had to keep digging. It left my throat awful sore, but I could breathe easier. I kept digging stuff out of my throat for a long time. Soon the sore throat healed, but I was not well. Mary Ellen did not have any aftereffects, but it took me a long time to get on my feet again. I still have scars on my tongue from the diphtheria sores. The family was very good to me. I was supposed to eat plenty of walnuts. The only kind we could get was the native ones, and they were hard to crack. They used to help me crack them and give me all the big pieces to eat. When Mother was able to take me to the doctor, we found out that I had a slow heart and weak kidneys. He told Mother to give me coffee to drink to stimulate the heart action. So, I had to drink coffee. It was indeed like medicine. I have always had to drink it. When I began to work in the church, I wanted to keep the Word of Wisdom, so I stopped drinking coffee. I became dropsy, and immediately I began to fill with water. As soon as I began drinking coffee again, the water would go way. I felt real bad about this. Mother told President Middleton about me, and he said, “My dear, you will be breaking the Word of Wisdom if you do not drink coffee.” So, I drank it, but I never there. Father set about planning to make this a lovely community. He was the man who led out in all the community enterprises. They had to build a ditch to carry water from the North Fork down to irrigate the crops. He was the first President of the Liberty Irrigation Company. He had the land surveyed and put the roads on section lines. He was the road supervisor. The roads had to be kept open in the winter so people could get away from their homes. The roads had to be broken after every snowstorm. They put willows along the sides of the road so they would know where the solid road was when it snowed again. He gave an acre of land on the corner of his farm for a place for the schoolhouse. He got the first schoolhouse in Liberty. This is where all the children could go. This was used for a Meeting House, also. He got them to make Liberty a branch of the Eden Ward. He was made the presiding Elder, and Grandpa Burt was the Superintendent of Sunday Schools. My father led the singing. He brought the first alfalfa seed to Liberty, and Timothy seed. He brought the first thoroughbred Holstein cattle to Liberty. He wanted good horses, so he paid $1,000 for a thoroughbred Norman stallion and a mare. The mare got sick. He stayed out in the cold himself and doctored her and caught cold. He got pneumonia and died 13 January 1891. As I look back, it seems that my father was the center of all the activity in the town. He planned it so it seemed like there was always something going on. We certainly had good times. My memories of father are all pleasant and happy. From The Past . . . Shotley Bridge, England learned to like it. I have many childhood memories. I remember, when I was about five years old, how the Indians used to come in bands of 30 or 40, with their packs and ponies. I remember an Indian wedding. They would come to our house and beg, and sometimes take nearly everything we had in the house. We dared not refuse them. There were only a few neighbors, and we were glad to have them, especially when the Indians came. Once when we children were over to our The Escomb Old Church on the bank of the River Wear. The Ogden Valley News is looking for Ogden Valley and Ogden Canyon historical biographies, stories, and photos to use in its publication. Please mail, email, or call Shanna at 801-745-2688 or Jeannie at 801-745-2879 if you have material you are willing to share. Wednesday Night Saturday Night Sunday Morning First Friday aunt’s, there were no grownups there and we were so afraid of the Indians that we hid in the potato hole under the house and dare not come out. We were there nearly all day. I have had many happy experiences with my father and mother. I remember well many of the stories he [father] told us when we gathered around his knees. He told us that he was born in Mossend, Lanarkshire, Scotland. When he was about six years old, he moved with his parents to Shotley Bridge, Durham County, England where his father worked in the Iron Works. A year later, they moved to Witton Park, nearby, where his mother died in childbirth. She was buried at Escomb Old Church on the bank of the River Wear. At the age of eighteen, he left for America. He arrived at Salt Lake City, Utah in the fall. He set to work to earn enough money to send for his father and family. His father had married Elizabeth Joyce Robson, one year after the death of his mother. He built a home for them in Bountiful, Utah. He married Christina Burt, who was a child when he lived in Scotland. He used to help tend her. Then Burts moved to Salt Lake City, and when he saw her again, she was about eight years old. He watched her grow up into a beautiful young lady. They were married 5 June 1874 in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City by Heber C. Kimball. They had a son born in Salt Lake City. He got the measles when he was a few months old. A powder mill “blew up” near them. The blast and shock were terrific. The baby died a few minutes later. Soon after this, they moved to Ogden Valley in the north end. They called this little town Liberty. There were only a few other families living 5:30 p.m. 6:00 p.m. 9:00 a.m. 8:30 a m. Fr. Joshua Marie Santos 801-399-5627 FrJoshuaS.Stambrose@gmail.com Saturday 5:30 p.m Sunday 8:00 a.m. or by appt. Saint Joseph Catholic Elementary, Middle School, and High School Providing a challenging, college-focused education in the proven tradition of Catholic schools, for the families of the Ogden Valley. We want to teach your children! For information on our program, financial assistance, tours, or application, please call 801-393-6051 or 801-394-1515. Liberty Band. Photo courtesy of Rod Clark. Date and names unknown. If you have any additional information regarding this picture, please contact Shanna (801-745-2688) or Jeannie (801-745-2879). 2668 Grant Avenue, Suite #104A, Ogden, UT 801-612-9299 |
