Jacob Hamblin Legacy Organization Blog

New Book about Rachel Judd Hamblin

Mon, 29 Sep 2025 23:34:03 GMT

Order a copy of the Rachel Judd Hamblin Book....

Click here to order your own copy today.

Frank Fuller Judd

Sat, 11 Nov 2023 03:49:01 GMT

Frank F Judd is the author of the 2023 released biography of Rachel Judd Hamblin

In December 2002 Frank Fuller Judd completed a successful career as a research scientist in the development of optical semiconductor devices. He then spent the next twenty years researching his Judd ancestors and the times in which they lived. He visited every place they had lived both in the USA and in Canada and then wrote two books. The first was about the life and times of Thomas Judd (1743-1828). The second was about Zadok Knapp Judd (1827-1909). The present work was undertaken in an effort to promote an understanding of the sacrifices and challenges our pioneer women ancestors have made in order to secure for themselves and others a place to live their lives in peace and comfort. Those sacrifices have not always met with success and prosperity, but we can still learn a good deal about how to live our modern lives by studying the efforts of our courageous ancestors.

Contact Frank Fuller Judd:

juddville@msn.com

New 2023: Rachel Judd Hamblin Book

Sat, 11 Nov 2023 03:48:46 GMT

Author Frank F Judd

JACOB HAMBLIN LEGACY ORGANIZATION

Forward by Author Frank F Judd

This book is about the life of Rachel Judd Hamblin. Rachel was born in a pioneer home on the frontier of Upper Canada (now known as Ontario). She spent nearly her whole life in one frontier home after another. It is no wonder that we are bereft of many of the official documents that might have been counted on to describe her life and doings. Rachel joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints as a 15-year-old teenager and never lost her faith in the gospel despite her life’s hardships.

The trek west she and her family undertook from Upper Canada initially to Ohio and then on to Missouri and finally back to Illinois was fraught with hard work, frustration, and perplexity. All this happened while she was yet a young unmarried woman of 19 years. When she did marry, the persecution and turmoil did not stop. She was married three times, two of which were polygamous relationships. None of these marriages were preceded by an engagement nor a lengthy courtship. One doubts at this late date if there was even an exchange of rings. Yet, she was eventually described as being “... of a mild, gentle disposition” and a “... kind, affectionate companion.”

At one point her marriage circumstances had been so stressful she was convinced that she would never have children. It wasn’t until after she made the trek to the Utah Territory and was able to settle in one place for a reasonable period that she was able to conceive children of her own. Her life in the Utah Territory was never to be one of peace and quiet as her husband, Jacob Hamblin, was ordained to be a missionary of the LDS Church to the western Indians. He was seldom at home and when he was, he was consumed with Indian and Church responsibilities. Rachel would find herself largely responsible for the family’s business endeavors and practices. She was a very capable woman, wife, mother, and provider.

One could have hoped that Rachel, as she grew older, would find a measure of tranquility and rest. This was never to be so. She continually battled the demands of building a satisfactory home for her family in the southern Utah frontier. Putting up with the shenanigans of the local Indians, being ravaged by the weather and other natural forces when they destroyed what her family had built ultimately led to her frail health. Then, there was the anguish that came to her home via the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Neither she nor anyone in her family took part in the atrocities of the Mountain Meadows Massacre, but she played a pivotal role in the aftermath of that brutality.

One would be hard pressed to find a more faithful and successful woman in the western movement of the Mormon pioneers than Rachel Judd Hamblin. She faced hardship and trouble with a courage and strength that may have brought many of us to our knees. In fact, she was likely on her knees often as she sought help from her God to deliver her and her family from the troubles they faced.

Learn more about the author Frank F Judd

If you are interested in purchasing a copy of the book:

People who would like to purchase a book can contact Frank by any of these means. The cost of the book is $4 for the book plus postage. The postage is "Media Mail" and depends on how many books are purchased and where they are to be mailed. Those wishing to buy a book will need to contact the author Frank Judd to get the full purchase price.

Frank F. Judd

1267 East 1150 South

Spanish Fork, Utah 84660

801-472-3572

juddville@msn.com

2019 Jacob Hamblin Reunion

Thu, 27 Jun 2019 19:19:24 GMT

Picture of Descendants of Jacob Hamblin

This picture was taken in front of the Jacob Hamblin Home at the 2019 Jacob Hamblin Family Reunion that took place on June 7-8, 2019. This picture was taken on June 8th. All individuals in the picture are descendants of Jacob Hamblin and their spouse.

Descendants of Lucinda and Jacob Hamblin

Thu, 13 Jun 2019 21:09:17 GMT

My lineage story

I hope I haven’t taken too many liberties. It’s hard to know where’s the appropriate beginning and ending, not to mention the details in the middle. I just really love my family.
To begin with, the first photo is the one hanging in Jacob’s Lake of the younger Jacob Hamblin. It’s easy to see his strength in this..

This 2nd photo is of Jacob’s and Lucinda”s daughter Martha Adeline. She married Taylor Crosby. He was the well known Crosby that lead the Southern Saints up from Mississippi. They settled the community of Pueblo CO. The southern saints then went north to join Brigham Young’s group. After they were settled well they were sent to CA. They settled San Bernardino. When the gold rush hit, they sent word to B.Y. They didn’t give up everything they had to live like this. They wanted to be with the saints. So they returned to St. George and began the cotton mission. Several times he went with Jacob on his missions. It’s obvious how the connection between Taylor and Martha begins.

We are through Lucinda. There's a photo of her daughter, Martha Adeline with her husband, Taylor Crosby, see above. They are holding their first child. I am not certain but I

believe it's Jake. He was very close to my great Grandpa William, but known as Uncle Billy.

-Leandra Skeem

One of their sons is William Crosby, commonly called Uncle Billy by everyone.
This photo is taken on his mission, he actually went back to the southern states where his family came from. He was able to send his one aunt to Utah to join the family. She didn’t come with them originally. She was now blind and alone. His companion eventually became his brother in law.

William Crosby’s wedding photo to Susannah Roundy in Alton, UT.

I will refer to him as Uncle Billy from here on. That’s how he was known. My great grandfather spent a great deal of time with his grandfather, Jacob Hamblin. He taught him to speak Navajo. I don’t know if he spoke other Indian languages or not but he was fluent in Navajo.

Uncle Billy continued with the work of his grandfather. He lived at Jacob’s Lake and did interpreting between the Indians and the whites. He always told the natives when they were being taken advantage of. Here’s a picture of some of the Navajo he worked with.

At Jacob’s Lake, Uncle Billy was host to all. He gave horse trail rides down the canyon. Helped movie stars with the filming of their movies. But his love was helping the natives. Over time he had built up such trust with them, they made him an honorary chief of the Navajo Nation.

Uncle Billy had a connection to his grandfather Jacob. The time he spent with him as a youth prepared him for how he spent the rest of his life.

Uncle Billy and Susannah’s 3 children. William Thearon, Melba, Marva. Susannah died during the birth of Melba as a result of a weak heart. Uncle Billy never remarried. When Melba was 9 months old, the family story is that Susannah came and said he had enough to do with the older 2 kids so she was taking the baby to watch. Thearon, my grandfather and Marva, my dear aunt were the 2 children he raised.

Uncle Billy and Thearon spent many hours in the saddle together and alone. Grandma always said when grandpa left she had no idea how many days it was for. This is a lifestyle that was in keeping with their grandfather, Jacob Hamblin.

Uncle Billy’s daughter, Marva Crosby Palmer. A nurse by profession.

William Thearon Crosby with my 3 kids (his great grandkids)Jeremiah,Dustin & Stacey Skeem. Grandpa famous saying “You can be the ugliest person on Earth, but if you have a treat, your alright with the kids!”

I can’t say enough good about any of these people. They all honored their heritage. They were hard working, honest living, god fearing people. Worthy of the highest honors given.

-Leandra Skeem

At last, this is my family. I have 3 sons and 2 daughter. 4 have served missions. All have served well in their community. My husband, Jerry Skeem, served in the Columbus,Ohio mission. Jerry worked as the cement plant at several positions but mostly heavy vehicles maintenance.
He was scout master for many years. He has been Elders Quorum President, Stake Young Men’s Councilor, then President. Sunday School President. Councilor in the Bishopric. And now a stage 4 cancer survivor.
We live on a farm where alfalfa’s the main crop. It’s been a great way to raise our children. We always had cattle to look after. The boys had their own. This is how they raised their mission money.
I am a school teacher. I have taught everything from preschool to 8th grade boys P.E. ��. I love to sew. I haven’t found anything I can make yet. Of course I don’t try if it’s too much of a challenge!! I make quilts for my grandkids. Garden, dabble in oil painting and crafts.
My big love is family. Both living and past. I’m not good at this empty nesters phase. I keep busy as can be with worth while projects.
So I feared, I rambled. So this is my family and how we connected to Jacob Hamblin.

My husband thought I left the history incomplete, stopping with my basically
Stopping with my grandpa. So here’s a tiny bit to finish up.

The first photo is my mother, Valene Crosby McMullin with her parents, Thearon and Marie Heaton Crosby at the St. George Temple. Mom was the hardest working woman I have ever met. Even if a person was sick you still worked.
She preserved everything she could get her hands on. She didn’t depend on the
stores for her food supply. She also cooked in the school lunch for 20 plus years.
This was when everything was made from scratch. She made hundreds of quilts, crocheted, embroidered, darned socks and everything else that was frugal.

This photo is the family I grew up with. Our home was happy. On the left is the oldest son, Karl Thearon, Valene, younger brother, Adrain, myself,Leandra, father
Karl Russell McMulllin. Known as Kay. There was a baby boy, Brian that died with
SIDS at the age of 4 months 7 days.

I suppose in keeping with family legacy, we had a lamanite student live with us
to attend school. Her name is Annie Begay. She was off the reservation near
Shiprock, New México.

Jacob Hamblin Improves Indian Affairs

Sun, 30 Dec 2018 17:16:25 GMT

Learn how Jacob Hamblin improved things the Lords way

Plymouth colony was established in 1620. By 1675 pioneer settlers had clearly established procedures for handling conflict between Native Americans. Two extremely different cultures would become fearful of each other and communication would break down resulting in armed conflict. The pioneer settlers backed by a larger population and superior weapons conquered and subjugated the Native American populations.

This pattern held true until the end of the Indian wars and the surrender of Geronimo in 1886. However, there is one great exception to the normal procedure of establishing peace through domination, massacre, and bloodshed. The exception was led by a missionary by the name of Jacob Hamblin. During the Indian wars in Colorado, nine federal forts were established for the protection of the pioneer settlers. In New Mexico another nine forts were established. In central and southern Arizona a total of 16 federal forts were built to control the Apache. Jacob Hamblin's influence began in the Santa Clara/St. George area of Southwestern Utah. His influence spread into southern Nevada and southeastern Utah.

His influence began to spread into Northern Arizona by 1863 among the Navajo and Hopi people. By 1870 his influence reached into Arizona in the areas that are roughly north of present-day Interstate 40. This area of influence was the size of many of today's Western states. In this region there were no forts built to protect the pioneer settlers except Fort Defiance, which was no longer needed by 1868.

History books fail to explain the reason that peace was established with the Native American people in these regions 30 years before Geronimo's surrender in Southern Arizona. When the Native American people had grievances they had someone to talk to. Jacob learned their language and would go to their villages and listen to their concerns. He would then return to the pioneer settlers and explained the problem and change in behavior happened through peaceful negotiation.

For example in one situation the settlers were feeding their cattle on the open range. The Native Americans had used the grasses to harvest the seeds for their winter survival. Jacob convinced the settlers to allow the Native Americans to glean their harvest fields which improved the diet of the Native Americans and accomplished the desired peace. It simply took someone who was willing to listen and find a peaceful solution. No armies were needed and peace was established. As a result, this area that fell under Jacob Hamblin's influence is today the most heavily populated region by Native American people in the United States.

Provo MTC's Jacob Hamblin Building

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Sat, 22 Dec 2018 18:07:09 GMT

Provo MTC's New Additions include the new Jacob Hamblin Building

One exciting fun fact about the church's new Provo MTC expansion is the church named one of their most popular buildings after Jacob Hamblin. The east wing of the new Jacob Hamblin building will be used for the MTC mailroom, bookstore, and resource training center. Now our family can send off missionaries proud to say they are a descendant of Jacob Hamblin every time the building is mentioned.

The Jacob Hamblin Building is Building 2M. The address is 2M Temple View Dr, Provo, UT 84604.

Learn more about the Jacob Hamblin Building at these links below:

Deseret News
The Church News
Daily Herald

Potential new Jacob Hamblin Photo

Mon, 10 Dec 2018 20:23:22 GMT

This article is from the Deseret News

Original article can be found below at Deseret News:
https://www.deseretnews.com/article/700028163/Dead-ringer-or-dead-on-Jacob-Hamblin-photo-mystery.htm...

CEDAR CITY — Family history is wearing many faces, from the new FamilySearch to a barrage of television shows geared at the rediscovery of roots.

But some of the greatest family history adventures still happen under your own roof, sometimes by accident, sometimes through a moment of inspiration.

Kathryn Ipson's son, James, was doing research on Jacob Hamblin, best known in LDS church history as a liaison to the Native Americans when the pioneers settled in the West.

A Google search yielded a solitary photo of Hamblin: His mouth pulls down at one corner, his chin is nestled in a thick goatee, and his hair is smoothed back from a broad, square forehead.

James shared the photo with his mother. Something about it made Ipson, 74, take pause.

"Let me show you an old daguerreotype I have," she told James.

She pulled a photo from a box and the two huddled over it. The image of a striking man with a thick goatee, his hair smoothed back from a broad, square forehead, stared up at them … and they stared back in amazement.

"We suddenly realized it could be an earlier photo of Jacob Hamblin," Ipson said.

The real research, and a real mystery, began for Ipson and her family.

More than 20 years ago, Ipson's sister, Carol Dodds, 77, had given her the photo. Neither sister was familiar with it — Dodd merely knew that Ipson liked old trinkets.

Ipson tucked the photo safely away, attaching a note to it that read: "I have no idea who this is a picture of." She promptly forgot about it.

Upon its rediscovery, Ipson found out the photo is actually an ambrotype — an early type of photograph made by imaging a negative on glass backed by a dark surface. The technique became popular in America in the 1850s. One of Ipson's first questions was, "Did they even have ambrotypes in Utah that early?"

She was able to talk to Nelson B. Wadsworth, author of "History of the Mormons: In Photographs and Text, 1830 to the Present," who confirmed that the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers have ambrotypes from the late 1850s and early 1860s.

Ipson showed the ambrotype to Brent Ashworth, document expert and owner of B. Ashworth's bookstore, which is dedicated to rare books, manuscripts and other collectibles.

"To me, it looks just like Jacob Hamblin," Brent Ashworth wrote via e-mail. "I believe it is a wonderful new view of this great pioneer (and) 'apostle to the Lamanites.' "

"I took (the photo) to the Jacob Hamblin home in St. George and showed it to them," Ipson said. "I also took it to the BYU Library, the Church History Library … Most people believe this is of Jacob Hamblin."

Ipson and Dodd have stewed over the ambrotype's origin. Their family is from Panguitch, where Hamblin had relatives settle. Dodd is also related by marriage to Ira Sterns Hatch, one of Hamblin's mission companions.

Dodd wonders if she acquired the photo years ago when a friend was cleaning out an abandoned storage shed in St. George. He left a box full of papers and old photos on Dodd's doorstep since he knew of her enthusiasm for family history.

Thanks to such enthusiasm, Ipson and Dodd have at the very least enjoyed the research. Ipson has even compiled possible dates the photo could have been taken, based on reading various books on Hamblin.

"For me, the best thing that has come from this is getting to know (Jacob Hamblin)," Ipson said. "What a peacemaker and dedicated man he was. I hope that more people will visit his home in Santa Clara and read some of the books available about him."

Ipson also hopes others will be inspired to start combing through their old papers or photos. You never know what — or who — you might find.

During the 2019 Jacob Hamblin Family Reunion in St. George, Utah, hosted by the Jacob Hamblin Legacy Organization, Wade Wixom, Hart Wixom's son spoke and also shared this picture. Wade's opinion was this photo is a genuine photo of Jacob Hamblin. He felt it in compairing the verified photo the church has and this new one that the new one was Jacob before he fell out of a tree and injured himself and was taken when Jacob was younger. See the reunion footage from the Jacob Hamblin Legacy Organization for more details.

The Blankets of Honesty

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Fri, 07 Dec 2018 01:10:24 GMT

by Frances Burk Perry

The Blankets of Honesty

Discover the joyful true tail of Jacob Hamblin and the Blankets of Honesty from Perry Tales.

This book from Perry Tales can be purchased on Amazon.com by clicking " here ".

Learn more about this true tail in The Friend Magazine, July 1987 on lds.org by clicking “ here ”.

Jacob Hamblin, Trustworthy Pioneer

By Pat Graham

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They were men who were true at all times in whatsoever thing they were entrusted ( Alma 53:20 ).

Jacob Hamblin was a brave pioneer who showed his courage by always telling the truth. The Indians knew that he was fair and honest, that they could trust his word. On one occasion Jacob was confronted by twenty-four Indian warriors who believed that the Saints were responsible for the deaths of three Indians. They wanted to take Jacob’s life, but he told them that his people had not betrayed them. After eleven hours of debate, the Indians decided to settle the matter peacefully because they knew that Jacob Hamblin had never lied to them. (See Valiant B Manual, page 140.)

Here are pictures for another true story that shows how Jacob Hamblin could be trusted. Cut out the characters and mount them on flannel. Place them on a flannel board as you read what each one says. You could give the story as a play for family home evening and have family members read assigned parts. The characters could be attached to tongue depressors or Popsicle sticks and held by each person.

The Trade

Jacob, Jr.: I am the son of Jacob Hamblin. My name is also Jacob. One day my father sent me to trade a horse for some blankets with an old Navajo Indian chief.

Jacob Hamblin: I am Jacob Hamblin. I told my young son to be sure to make a good trade.

Jacob, Jr.: I rode on horseback, leading the horse that was to be traded.

Navajo Chief: I am the Navajo Indian chief. Young Jacob told me that his father wanted to trade a horse for some blankets. I brought out a number of handsome blankets.

Jacob, Jr.: I shook my head and said that I would have to have more.

Navajo Chief: I brought out two buffalo robes and quite a few more blankets.

Jacob, Jr.: Thinking that I had done quite well, I bundled all the blankets and robes into a roll behind my saddle, mounted my horse, and started for home.

Jacob Hamblin: When my son arrived home, I undid the roll of blankets and robes. I looked at them and began to separate them. I put blanket after blanket into a pile and then rolled them up. I told young Jacob to take them back and tell the chief that he had sent too many.

Jacob, Jr.: I rode again to the Indian chief, returned the blankets to him, and told him that my father thought that he had sent too many. The old chief smiled and said:

Navajo Chief: I knew that you would come back; I knew that Jacob would not cheat me. (Adapted from Valiant B Manual, page 139.)

Sharing Time Ideas

1. Scramble letters of word pioneer. Ask children to think of word that describes someone who is brave, prepares the way for others, or does something new. Then tell true story “The Trade,” using flannel board figures. For large group, cutouts could be prepared for overhead projector.

2. Prepare copies of figures for each child to cut out. (Older children could cut out figures for younger ones.) Divide children into groups of four to six. Have each child choose figure; each group then retells story among themselves.

3. Three people could dress as characters of story. Use blankets for props.

4. Sing “Whenever I Think About Pioneers” ( Sing with Me, E-2, verses 1, 2, 5, and 6).

5. Discuss situations in which people show trust. Make chart listing examples from scriptures, examples of people whom children trust, and examples of people trusting children.

LDS.ORG: Friend and Brother Jacob Hamblin, Man of Peace

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 19:01:50 GMT

This is a 1984 LDS Ensign article about Jacob Hamblin

https://www.lds.org/ensign/1984/10/friend-and-brother-jacob-hamblin-man-of-peace?lang=eng

“Friend and Brother”:

By Marlene Bateman Sullivan

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November 1863. Jacob Hamblin had just left his home in Santa Clara to get supplies in nearby Cedar City, Utah. Two Indians rode up to the Hamblin home and angrily demanded: “Where is Jacob?”

When they learned he had gone to Cedar City, they dashed off in that direction with their horses. Overtaking Jacob, they called for him to stop.

“We have come to kill you!” they called angrily.

For a few moments there was silence. Then Jacob climbed down from the wagon seat, looked at the Indians, and pulled his shirt open—as if to say, “Shoot, I am unarmed.”

The Indians stared a moment in silence. Then one muttered: “Can’t Jacob, you’ve got my heart.” They rode away. 1

Jacob Hamblin. At a time when few white people were trusted, the Indians looked upon Jacob as a true friend. Today he is considered the most influential and successful peacemaker and missionary among the Indian people in the territorial period. 2

He was a man totally committed to God and to the building up of God’s kingdom among the Indians. “Although Jacob Hamblin generally carried a gun of some sort,” writes historian John Henry Evans, “his dependable weapon was prayer and the most absolute trust in God. … He ate with the Indians, he slept with them, he talked their language, he prayed with them for the rains to save their crops … , he thought their thoughts, … till he knew more perhaps than any other American ever knew of the native, and exerted far more influence with them.” 3

Jacob Hamblin was born in Salem, Ohio, on 2 April 1819 to Isaiah and Daphne Haynes Hamblin. He married Lucinda Taylor in 1839 and they made their home in Spring Prairie, Wisconsin. Three years later, in February 1842, he attended a meeting where the missionary Lyman Stoddard was preaching. “I shall never forget the feeling that came over me when I saw his face and heard his voice,” Jacob relates. “He preached that which I had long been seeking for; I felt that it was indeed the gospel.” 4 He was baptized 3 March 1842.

Jacob served as a missionary for a short time, but was called home when the Prophet Joseph Smith was martyred. When word came from Church leaders to move west, his wife refused to go. But she told him to go and take the three children with him.

Needing help with his motherless family , Jacob relied on the Lord. In a dream he saw a widow and two children in a log cabin. At the same time a widow, Rachel Judd, had a feeling that her future husband would soon call at her cabin. Jacob went to her home, introduced himself, and explained that he had been impressed to ask her to be his wife. She agreed; they were married on 30 September 1849, came to Utah the next year, and were later sealed in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City.

Jacob was directed to settle his family in Tooele, Utah. At that time the Latter-day Saints had developed a policy of feeding the Indians to avoid fighting with them. However, the settlers barely had enough provisions for themselves—and giving food to the Indians proved to be a hardship. The settlers also found that their grain and livestock were often stolen.

To combat the increasing thievery, a military company was formed, with Jacob as a first lieutenant. “I asked for a company of men,” he relates, “to … hunt up the Indians. … One morning at daybreak, we surrounded their camp. … The chief among them sprang to his feet, and stepping towards me, said, ‘I never hurt you, and I do not want to. If you shoot, I will; if you do not, I will not.’ I was not familiar with their language, but I knew what he said. Such an influence came over me that I would not have killed one of them for all the cattle in Tooele Valley.”

Jacob wanted some of the Indians to accompany his group back to the settlement. Afraid, but confident in his assurance of safety, they went. When they arrived, a superior officer decided to ignore Jacob’s promise and have the Indians shot.

“I told him I did not care to live,” writes Jacob, “after I had seen the Indians whose safety I had guaranteed, murdered, and … if there were any shot I should be the first. At the same time I placed myself in front of the Indians. This ended the matter and they were set at liberty.” 5

On a later occasion, the Spirit made it known to Jacob in a dramatic way that he was to be a friend and brother to the Indians—a peacemaker—rather than an enemy. “I … secreted myself behind a rock in a narrow pass. … I had not been there long before an Indian came within a few paces of me.

“I leveled my rifle on him, and it missed fire. He sent an arrow at me, and it struck my gun. … ; he sent the second, and it passed through my hat; the third barely missed my head; the fourth passed through my coat and vest. As I could not discharge my gun, I defended myself as well as I could with stones. …

“I afterwards learned … that not one [of our company] was able to discharge his gun when within range of an Indian. … It appeared evident to me that a special providence had been over us … to prevent us from shedding the blood of the Indians. The Holy Spirit forcibly impressed me that it was not my calling to shed the blood of the scattered remnant of Israel, but to be a messenger of peace to them. It was also made manifest to me that if I would not thirst for their blood, I should never fall by their hands.” 6

In the October 1853 general conference, Jacob was called to be a missionary among the Indians in Washington County. The next spring he left for the southern Utah settlement of Harmony, and then in December, he was selected, with other missionaries, to settle Santa Clara.

The Indians in the area were somewhat nomadic, wandering about in search of food. The settlers had scared their game away, they said, and the white man’s cattle ate the grasses, roots, and grains that the Indians depended upon for food. Since the land was theirs, they maintained they were entitled to part of the crops and cattle the settlers produced. The conflict led to a great deal of trouble.

But Jacob had much compassion for the Indians. He developed a great love for them and set about to help them improve their conditions. Blessed by the Lord, he found a measure of success. He and the other missionaries taught the Indians farming techniques so they would not suffer from hunger. “The patient and industrious Jacob Hamblin … may truly be designated ‘the Indians’ friend,’” wrote Thomas Brown, an early settler. “Under his industrious care, I doubt not they will soon be able to raise their own wheat, stock and other edibles, also cotton.” 7

Jacob completed this mission in June of 1855. But when he met with Brigham Young, the prophet told him to take his family, which by then included an adopted Indian boy, back to southern Utah—and he admonished Jacob not to neglect his mission among the Indians.

On 4 August 1857 President Young appointed Jacob president of the Santa Clara Indian Mission. He urged Jacob to “continue the conciliatory policy toward the Indians … and to seek by words of righteousness to obtain their love and confidence.” 8 Jacob worked steadily alongside the Indians and won their trust and confidence. He talked with them in their language, always spoke the truth, and honored all his promises. As a result, he had tremendous influence with them. In later years his personal code of ethics in dealing with the Indians was distributed to all missionaries and others who dealt with the Indians.

He taught his children well by his example. One biographer records: “A son of Jacob Hamblin says that when he was a very small boy his father called him one day and said, ‘Son, take this horse over to my friend, Chief Frank, and exchange the horse for some blankets.’” The boy, eager to prove himself a good trader, returned with an excessive number of blankets. Jacob, seeing the uneven trade, sent him to give back the excess blankets, “whereupon the chief said, ‘I knew my friend Jacob would send you back; he is our father too.’” 9

Jacob continued to work mightily to keep peace between the Indians and the settlers, and to ensure the safety of the many emigration companies that were passing through the area. He had long been curious about a group of Indians called the Moquis. After receiving approval, he organized an expedition and left with a group of twelve men on 28 October 1858. They traveled in a southeast direction, crossing the Colorado River at the eastern end of the Grand Canyon, known as the Crossing of Our Fathers. After a ten-day journey they arrived at the Indian village in northeastern Arizona. Their visit appeared to fulfill a prophecy: “A very aged man [a member of the Moqui tribe] said that when he was a young man his father told him that he would live to see white men come among them, who would bring them great blessings … and that these men would come from the west. He believed that he had lived to see the prediction fulfilled in us.” 10

After sending a report of their trip to Salt Lake City, Jacob received a letter from President Young. The letter told him to take a second expedition to the Moquis and “as soon as they become sufficiently familiar with our language, present to them the Book of Mormon and instruct them in regards to its history and the first principle of the Gospel.” 11 Jacob did visit the tribe again the next year, staying with them several weeks.

In 1864 a group of Indians made raids upon the settlers by the Colorado River. Jacob settled these difficulties and then made two more trips to the Moquis. His second trip extended into March of 1865.

In 1866 Jacob started out on another missionary expedition but became ill and turned back. He sent word to his family, and his wife came and took him home to Santa Clara. He remained in very poor health for a year—his friends believed he was dying. He relates that he was willing to die. But when he heard his little children crying around him, the question came into his mind, “What will they do if I am taken away? I could not bear the thought of leaving my family in so helpless a condition.” 12 He asked for a blessing and afterwards felt a new desire for food. After this he made a slow recovery.

After some settlers were murdered by Indians, Jacob was called to act as a guide and interpreter for a company of soldiers. In 1867 he was called to visit the Indians to the east of the Rio Virgin. “I had many long talks with them,” he relates, “which seemed to have a good effect. Although some of the bands were considered quite hostile and dangerous to visit, I felt that I was laboring for good, and had nothing to fear.” 13

Indeed, Jacob was fearless in the face of danger. For this quality he was much respected, especially among the Indians. He had a way of winning the hearts of the Indians by his honest ways and with his remarkable courage. For example, on one occasion, wrote an associate, “Jacob Hamblin … was captured by the Indians, and was tied to a stake and faggots and other dry wood piled up around him. The purpose then being to fire same and finish him for all time. The Indians then danced about and uttered their war cries with the blood-curdling emphases, but could in nowise shake his inherent bravery, for he smiled and bade them finish the job. The Chief of the Indians was so astonished at his utter lack [of fear, that] they ever after proved themselves in many ways to be his friends and he ever their brother.” 14

Keeping a watch on the eastern frontiers of southern Utah often kept him away from Santa Clara and home, so Jacob decided to move his family closer to him. They moved to the unfinished fort at Kanab, Utah, in September of 1869. Jacob continued to do much to settle disputes between the Indians and the settlers. He went to Kanab and helped the Paiutes plant corn and vegetables, and they held peace parleys together. 15 When President Brigham Young visited the region in April 1870, he told Jacob to continue visiting the Indian camps, maintain peaceful relations, and prevent the shedding of blood. At that time Jacob was relieved of his previous responsibility of guarding the frontier.

A few months later, Major John W. Powell of the United States Geological Survey sought Jacob’s assistance as an interpreter and guide. On September 19 a peace council was held in the Mt. Trumball area. Major Powell relates: “After supper, we hold a long council. A blazing fire is built, and around this we sit—the Indians living here, the shivwits, Jacob Hamblin and myself. This man, Hamblin, speaks their language well, and has a great influence over all the Indians in the region round about. He is a silent, reserved man, and when he speaks, it is in a slow, quiet way, that inspires great awe. His talk is so low that they must listen attentively to hear, and they sit around him in deathlike silence. When he finishes a measured sentence, the chief repeats it, and they all give a solemn grunt.” 16

Jacob explained to the council the reason for Major Powell’s visit, reassuring them that they meant no harm. He told them that the Indians should be friends and help Major Powell find water. The chief of the Shevwits responded, “Your talk is good and we believe what you say. We believe in Jacob and look upon him as a father. When you are hungry you may have our game … We will show you the springs, and you may drink; the water is good. We will be friends, and when you come we will be glad.” 17

Major Powell, aware of the great abilities of Jacob as a peacemaker, asked him to accompany him to Fort Defiance. At that council Jacob again spoke to the Indians: “I have now gray hairs on my head, and from my boyhood I have been on the frontiers, doing all I could to preserve peace between white men and Indians.

“I despise this killing, the shedding of blood. I hope you will stop this, and come and visit, and trade with our people.” When Jacob finished speaking Barbenceta 18 , the principal chief of the Navajos, stood up and walked over to Jacob. Tears started up in his eyes and he put his arms around him, saying: “My friend and brother, I will do all I can to bring about what you have advised.” 19 A treaty was signed as the result of this council.

Sadly, this was broken by a tragedy during the last part of 1873. Four young Navajo braves were returning home when a blizzard arose. They took shelter in an empty home nearby. The storm continued, and, since they had no food, they killed a cow. When the owner heard that Indians had camped in his house and killed his cow, he gathered his friends and attacked the Indians. They killed three and wounded the fourth, who managed to escape.

Jacob, upon learning of the incident, knew that to the Navajos it would appear as a flagrant violation of the treaty. The offenders were not Latter-day Saints but they were in “Mormon territory.” The Indians would consider it a Mormon treachery.

Brigham Young sent word to Jacob to go immediately to the Navajos and explain that Latter-day Saints were not the perpetrators of the Grass Valley incident. Jacob was unable to find a single man willing to go with him on such a dangerous trip and was advised by many to stay home and prepare for war.

“I left Kanab alone,” Jacob writes. “My son Joseph overtook me about fifteen miles out with a note from Bishop Levi Stewart, advising my return.” 20 Jacob, however, went on. Remaining overnight at Mowabby he received a second note from Bishop Stewart, saying he would surely be killed if he went on. But Jacob stoutly says of that occasion, “I felt that I had no time to lose. … My life was of small moment compared with the lives of the Saints and the interests of the kingdom of God. I determined to trust the Lord and go on.” 21

On his journey Jacob met two Smith brothers, who accompanied him. Upon arriving, Jacob found that Chief Hastile, the arbitrator, was not there. The young braves were set upon a blood revenge, but the older ones agreed to talk. One of the Smith brothers relates the following: “Into this lodge was crowded twenty-four Navajos, four of whom were Counselors of the Nation. The Council opened [the second day of talks] by the spokesman asserting that what Hamblin had said the previous night concerning the killing, was false, … that Hamblin was a party to the killings.” The spokesman then recommended death by fire for Jacob. The other two could return after witnessing the torture.

Fully aware of the danger, Jacob “behaved with admirable coolness, not a muscle in his face quivered.” Then he spoke: “I have been acquainted with your people many years, and I have worked many moons to bring about peace … I hope you would not think of killing me for a wrong with which neither myself nor my people had anything to do.” He “challenged them to prove that he had ever deceived them; ever spoken with a forked tongue.”

After his words, which began to soften the feelings of the elder Indians, the wounded brave was brought in and his wounds were exposed. According to one of the Smith brothers, “The sight of the wounded brave roused their passions to the utmost fury. … It seemed that our hour had come. … It was a thrilling scene; the erect proud form of the young Chief as he stood pointing at the wound in the kneeling figure before him; the circle of crouching forms; their dusky and painted faces animated by every passion that hatred and ferocity could inspire, and their glistening eyes fixed with one malignant impulse upon us. …

“The suspense was broken by a Navajo … who once again raised his voice in our behalf, and, after a stormy discussion, Hamblin finally compelled them to acknowledge that he had been their friend; that he had never lied to them, and that he was worthy of belief now.” The council finally adjourned after a tense eleven hours and let the case go before the arbitrator.

Jacob later said in his wry way, “For a few minutes I felt that if I were permitted to see friends and home again, I would appreciate the privilege.” At the closing of the investigation a month later, Chief Hastile said, “I am satisfied; I have gone far enough; I know our friends, the Mormons, are our true friends.” 22

At the end of 1874 Jacob was placed in charge of the Church’s livestock on the frontier and traded often with the now peaceable Navajos. A happy event occurred on the last of March 1875 when nearly two hundred Indians were baptized.

During the winter of 1875–76, Jacob “had the privilege of remaining at home [in Kanab]. My family was destitute of many things. Some mining prospectors came along, and offered me five dollars a day to go with them, as protection against the Indians. … It seemed like a special providence to provide necessities for my family, and I accepted the offer.” 23

He continued in his labors and met with Brigham Young in 1876. At this time President Young gave Jacob a blessing in which he was given special status as an emissary to the Indians. President Young said to him: “You have always kept the Church and Kingdom of God first and foremost in your mind. … You can have all the blessings there are for any man in the temple.” Jacob says of this meeting, “The assurance that the Lord and his servants accepted my labors … has been a great comfort to me.” 24 At this time he was fifty-seven years old.

Jacob moved his family to Arizona in 1878, but he visited Utah regularly to report on his labors in Arizona, and later in New Mexico, where he moved in 1884. During one trip to Utah in 1885, Jacob met with Wilford Woodruff, who was president of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. President Woodruff recognized Jacob’s unusual abilities with the Indians and wrote him a special certificate. The certificate called him to be a missionary among the Lamanites and gave him the right and authority to go into any part of the United States and Mexico to preach the gospel.

The next summer he paid a visit to the home of his son Lyman in Alpine, Arizona. While there he caught the chills and fever. He felt better after two weeks and wanted to go home. On the way back, he and his grandson camped out in the rain in a leaky shelter. Jacob became soaked and suffered a relapse. They camped out another night, and when they arrived home—now Pleasanton, New Mexico—they found everyone ill with malaria. After three days of illness he died, on 31 August 1886. His wife, the only one able to get out of bed, was assisted by some strangers in burying him. His body was later reinterred at Alpine, Arizona. On his gravestone are the words “Peacemaker In The Camps Of The Lamanites.”

Jacob’s devotion to the Church was unfaltering. His faith and trust in God was absolute. And throughout the years, his love and dedication to his family was always a motivating force. Life was never easy for them. But their sacrifices and their loyalty to one another made it possible for Jacob to accomplish all that he did.

Pearson Corbett, one of Jacob Hamblin’s biographers, says of him: “He loved President Brigham Young and the Prophet Joseph Smith and accepted them as direct emissaries from God. … His devotion and loyalty to his Church, his God, his family and fellow associates places his name high among his contemporaries and will be remembered among his people for generations to come.” 25

Frederick S. Dellenbaugh, an explorer and member of the Powell Colorado River Expedition, said of him: “Old Jacob was a remarkable character, and must hold a place in the annals of the Wilderness beside Jedediah Smith, Bridger, … and the rest of that gallant band. But he differed in one respect from every one of them; he sought no pecuniary gain, working for the good of his chosen people. … Old Jacob was one of the heroes of the Wilderness, and one of the last of his kind.” 26

Illustrated by Don Seegmiller

Show References

Notes

Marlene B. Sullivan, a free-lance writer and mother of five, is a member of the North Logan Fifth Ward, North Logan Utah Stake.

William Stanton Hamblin

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 17:21:14 GMT

Donated by Joan Hamblin

William Stanton Hamblin

May 24, 1893 –

Written in 1977

Brandon, the silver dollar that you got for your 12th birthday was given to your grandfather from his father, William Stanton Hamblin. Your grandfather hopes you will treasure it as a symbol of courage and faith.

My name is William Stanton Hamblin, born of goodly parents in Eagar, Apache County, Arizon, on May 24, 1893, at the Lytle home. My father was Jacob Hamblin, Jr., born in Santa Clara, Utah, March 21, 1865. My mother was Sadie Cornelia Lytle, born at Panaca, Nevada, October 16, 1867. They were married in the St. George Temple in St. George, Utah.

Life at that time was real difficult and hard to stay alive and to make a living for many was a real challang (challenge) for Father and Mother, not just their own family, but father’s mother, brothers and sisters, they provided for. In my Father and Mother’s family there was (sic.) 14 children – 9 brothers and 5 sisters - Jacob Perry, Lucy Priscilla, Wilford Woodruff, William Stanton, Jeremiah Roland, John Arlington, Sadie Alma, Carl Maeser, Velora, Lawson Arlo, Mark Elbert, Tannie May, La Vern.

Our first home was at Nutrioso, Arizona about two miles north of the town, a two-room log house. Father built a new home in town which is still in use, the Marion Lee home, built about 1895. I was a sickly child. Mother said she carried me in her arms most of the time, thinking I could not live much longer. Sometimes we do not always know (because) I am still around. They fed me on goat’s milk or anything they could me to eat and that was not very much because at that time, there was not very much to have, just what we could raise and find from Mother Nature, or we went without and that was quite often. Bread, milk, and gravy was (sic.) what we were raised on and we were lucky to have that.

My first memories as a child was (sic.) when I was three years old. My brother Roland came along about that time, pushing me out as the baby. Uncle Art Lytle was living at a ranch called Milligan between Eagar and Nutrioso, milking cows. He came over and got my brother Wilford and took him back to the ranch. I remember that I made such a fuss because I could not go. They locked me in a close (clothes) locker until I quit crying, then I would not come out. Father got me by the legs and dragged me in where Mother was.

I started to school at the age of six years. Maud Noble was my first teacher. I went to school dressed in a little checkered dress, made from an old tablecloth. And with long red curley hair. (Because) Mother had lost Jacob and Lucy, Mother said Lucy was a beautiful little girl and it was a real sorrow for Mother. I was kept as a little girl for a long time. I was small and rather puney most of the time, so I got a lot of attention from the family and from my teacher, Miss Noble. Some of the children felt like I was the teacher’s pet, and I guess that I was. She always called me her little boy friend so some of the boys nicknamed me, calling me little Maud, which followed me all the days of my life.

One day while at school I became very sleepy and Miss Noble sent me to play, but I went out and went to sleep by a red ant bed. The ants got all over me. I was so badly stung that I was not able to go back to school for several days. Mother said that I just about died.

One Sunday, my friend Drew Maxwell, who was my age, came over to the house while the rest of the family had gone to church. We found some matches and went out to make a fire. We had a large straw stack which the cows had eaten a hole back in the stack, so we got back in the hole, thinking noone would see us. We made us a little fire, but it soon became a big fire. We tried to get out but it was too hot. We started to cry and calling for someone to help us. Uncle Dudley Hamblin was coming out of church and seeing the smoke ran over to see what was wrong. He took off his new Sunday coat and beat the fire out and then got us out of the hot hole. His coat was a piece of roasted wool. Everybody was there by the time we got out and they all agreed that it was better to have a roasted coat than two roasted little boys.

Well, I was still in my checkered dress. One day, Mother needed something from a little store owned by Bro. William Pace. They had a dog that ran out and nipped me on the leg. I guess that I cred some, so Brother Pace took me in his little store, bought me a shirt and overalls and then cut my hair; he wrapped my long hair in my dress and sent me home. Mother would look at me and then cry. She kept those red curls until she died… we found them in her trunk.

Mother loved her family and tried hard to bring us up with high ideals to be decent and respectful. She would say to us quite often, “If you boys will neither drink or smoke, we will buy you a gold watch and chain when you are 21.” I think that it had some influence towards doing what was right, but they never had enough money to do the good wish that was in her heart, but I now wear a gold watch and chain and have for some 55 years, and I think of Mother’s desire to fulfill her promise many times when I look at the time.

While we lived in our first home, father took his mother back to Utah, leaving Mother and her children alone. It was a hard winter and father was gone for three months. We ran out of food, the snow was deep and no way to travel, only by horse. Uncle Will Lytle was living with us; he was just a small boy. Mother put him on a horse and with a letter to the Bishop asking for help, but the bishop refused to help her, saying to Uncle Will that he was looking after his own family and Jacob Hamblin should take care of his without asking someone else to take care of them. Well, Mother was desperate, her children was (sic.) starving. She prayed for help, then she thought of a man that was not a bishop and holding no part in the ward. He was considered a man of worldly ways. His name was Benjaman Brown; he was an uncle to Hugh B. Brown, so she sent her Brother Will with the same letter, pleading for some food and help. When Will came back, he had a large sack of flour, a slab of bacon, and a ham. Mother gave thanks to the Lord for answering her prayer. So what does it prophet (sic) a man if he has not charity? (So Benjamin Brown was a true Christian and a saint with mother. He was an Uncle to Hugh B. Brown.)

About that time, Mother took my brothers, Wilford and myself out in the pasture to fix a fence where some cattle had broken it down and was in our field. Mother tried to drive them out. There was a wild bull in the herd and was coming toward us. We tried to run but Mother kenw that it was a dangerous situation. She looked for some kind of protection. The rain had washed out a small ditch about three feet deep. Mother got us in the ditch, the Bull came over where we were, then pawed the ground and belloered a few times and then went back to the herd. I do not rember (sic.) how long we had to stay there, but I think we might of (sic) dug the ditch three feet deeper.

The first day of June was always a big day for country people and we young people always looked forward for the big events. Everybody that could go took their families (and) went out in the timber with big trees, made swings, played games and then a big dinner. For our last helping would be a jelley (sic) cake. The jelley (sic) was made from wild grapes and I think that it was the best cake that was ever made!

Most everybody had a(n) outhouse for a toilet. Some have had a three-holer, one for Mom, one for Father, and one for the little ones. While we were about ready to leave for the woods, there was (sic) three young ladies (who) went into the toilet. The door had a lock on the outside. My friend, Drew, saw the girls go in and we thought it would be real funny to lock them in, so we did. During the dinner hour, the girls were missed and someone went to look for them, they had been in the toilet about three hours. Well, the girls told on us and Live Brown (Eagar) caught us and I thought she was going to kill us, but I guess it was not more than we deserved but I thought it was at that time.

I was now in my 3rd year of school. At Christmas time, my cousin Ben Tenney and myself received a little slate in a red frame. I think that it was the best Christmas gift that either of us had ever received. Our Christmas was about four lumps of candy, 2 walnuts, either one apple or orange, 4 or 5 chalkey marbles. If we got a glass marble that was something wonderful. After Christmas, we were back in school. All classes held in one room. Each class would go up to the frunt (sic) for their lesson. This year, we had a new teacher, W.D. Rencher. He was real hard and crankey with the school (I thought so). One day, Ben and myself was doing something that mr. Rencher did not like. He came down to our desk and we had something on our slate that he did not approve off (sic.) I do not remember what it was, but he grabed (sic) both slates, broke them over our heads, leaving the frame around our necks, well, from then on I never had very much love for Mr. Rencher. Father ran the school, so Mr. Rencher did not come back the next year. (He was a good teacher for adults but not for the younger grades.)

About this time, as a little boy, I seemed to get into a lot of truble (sic), which I got paddled for. One day, I saw a man coming down the road in a one-horse cart. I hid under a bridge that he would come over, when he got to the crossing, I jumped out and threw my hat (at) the horse. Well, I gave him a good scare and he ran away. I thought it was real fun. Well, the man got his horse stoped (sic) and came back where I was, but I hid under the bridge. When he told me to come out, I knew that it was my Dad. I beged (sic) him not to hit me, I said, “Pa, if I had known it was you, I would not (have) scared your horse,” and that seemed to make it worse, and I got a good padeling (sic). At least Dad thought so, but I didn’t.

My sister Alma was the baby about one year old, when she sat down on a needle, went quite deep in her little seater. We tried to pull it out, broak (sic) it off. I held her with her little butty up so Mother could get hold of it with her teeth and got it out. Mother was sick and we did not have much to eat, some of the boys was (sic) going fishing and I wanted to go but did not have any hooks. Mother made me one out of a safety pin and I used a string for my line. The stream was small. I brought home three small trout. I do not remember wether (sic) I caught them with the hook, or got them wilth my bucket which I would use sometimes to catch the little minoes (sic) that was (sic) in the stream. Mother would say many years after that nothing ever tasted quite so good as those fish. (Well, that started me out to be a fisherman, now I am 84 years old and I am still trying to catch fish.).

At that time we had no doctors and everybody used what little knowledge and homemade remedy for medicine and cures. Someone had killed a small skunk which did not smell. Father skined (sic) it and Mother baked it for the oil that they would mix it with laudman and use it for earache. Mother had taken the skunk out and lifted it out on the porch in a pan. Uncle Dudley came in from the back and said, “Sadie, I hope you will not be mad at me, I have eaten most of that rabbit, and it was really good.”

I was baptized by Orson Wilkins in a mud hole and confirmed by my father.)

Father and Mother sold their property in Nutrioso and moved to Eagar. Our first home was a two large rooms log house; we only lived there a short time when Father built a new home. We lived there for about three years. Father had bought a farm so he sold our home to Will Eagar and built another home, which my brother Roland in later years bought and remodeled and is now living in it.

I was now 12 years old, real small for my age, and was always getting into trouble. Some of the older boys (in)formed me it was snowing that day and everybody was throwing snowballs. Someone said when the teacher comes out to ring the bell, we will all snowball him. I was for it in a big way, we made our snowballs and waited when he came out I wanted to be the first one to throw and then run. Well, I was the only one that threw. I hit him on the side of the head and knocked his glasses off. Well, nobody ran, and I was the bad boy. Well, school days were whipping days for wrong doings.

We raised our beans and ate a lot of them, and they had a lot of poopers in them. My friend, David Nelson, was three years older than I was. He had a girlfriend sit one seat ahead of him. One day my beans got to working and I had a pop-off. Well, I did not know what to do, so turned around, looked at David, and laughed at him. The teacher went down where he was, grabed (sic) him by the arm and said, “Young man, if you do that again, I will goifer (?) you.” His girl friend thought it was him (sic). Well, I knew what was going to happen after school, I got out first and ran, but not fast enough, Dave caught me and rubed (sic) my nose in the dirt. Well, I got a skined (sic) nose, and he lost his girl.

We had a small 20 (gauge) gun. I went hunting rabits (sic) one day. I got over in Mr. Hulsey’s field, the weeds were high and a big dog came running through the weeds. So I took a shot at him. I did not kill him, but he ran to the house yelping. Mr. Hulsey came out with his big gun and began to shoot. I thought he was shooting at me. He was not but I did not know it. I started to run and kept on runing (sic) until I got about one mile from the Hulsey farm and hid in a big wash and waited until dark before I dared to go home. But I never went hunting in the Hulsey’s field again. I guess that I was rather dumb and that I could never learn to keep out of truble (sic). One night the mail was late, we were all standing around waiting. We built a fire. Geo. Jarvis was there and told us that the old mail horses was (sic) scared of fire and they would really run and we wanted some fun or excitement. The mail came in; a poor old Mexican was the driver. Some of us threw sticks of fire at the horses, and my stick hit the old man on the neck. He began to holler, calling the postmaster, Mr. DeWitt. He came out but we had gone. I stayed out about all night, was afraid to go home. Sometime had passed and Mr. De Witt Alleck asked me about it and I told him what had happened. A few nights after that, we got into Mr. De Witt’s orchard to borrow some apples, I had filled my pockets and was crawling under the fence. Bro. DeWitt was there waiting for me. He handed me two more big apples and said, “Here, Stan, is a few more that you might need.” Well, I never stole any more apples from Mr. De Witt, and became one of my best friends. He moved to California. (Many years after that, he came back to visit. He told his son that Stan Hamblin was one to see.)

After school, one spring when I was 14 years old, I went to heard (sic) sheep for Mr. John Brown. We had 2 heards (sic). Charley Maxwell took care of the camp and was the cook. It was the month of May but we had snow and it was cold. Our camp was near the Ren Crosby Ranch, the head of Black River, just east of Big Lake. I had a mule to ride. At night, I would put my sheep in a corral, light some lanterns to keep the wild beasts away and then rid (sic) to camp. One night as I was saddling my mule, he broke away from me and ran. I followed him until dark. He went down a canyon. There was a long rope around his neck. He stopped by a big pine tree and I crawled up behind some logs and got hold of the rope, so after that I tried to be smarter than the mule. I tied him up before I put the saddle on. My brother, Maeser, and sister Alma was (sic) sick with scarlet fever. They came and took me back home. They were very sick and Maeser died. He was a boy in every way… healthy, good looking, well built and an athlete in many ways. It was very hard for Mother to give him up. She prayed for days asking the Lord to spare his life. One night while she was praying, she was given the feeling or impression that if Maesar lived, she would have a greater sorrow. His legs and arms were twisted and his brain had been injured with the fever. After that, she felt that the Lord had herd (sic) her prayers and was consoled with his passing.

I was paid for my work for hearding (sic.) sheep and I bought a cow and calf from Doctor Rudd. I had eight head of stock. Father never said anything to me about selling my cows and he let Uncle Waren Tenney have them and he never paid for them. Mother was very much upset over the deal and told Father that he would never get paid. Father would trust anybody, sighn (signing) notes which he would have to pay, and would give them anything he had if some would ask for it and people took advantage of generosity and on his death bed, he told me that he had to live a life time to find out that lot of things that he thought was (sic.) charity was (sic) nothing but ignorance and lack of judgement.

I was hit on the leg with a rake, leaving a bad cut. I did not take care of it. I got wet and the dye from my overalls got into the soar (sic.) and got blood poison in my leg. Mother and Grandmother Lytle used every home remedy they could think of, but I was real sick and was in a lot of pain. They became very frightened and worried. They put me in a buckboard wagon and took me to St. Johns. Grandmother Lytle came along trying to comfort or give me what help she could. A Doctor Platt was in St. Johns at that time. After looking me over, he said, “If you want the boy to live, his leg will have to come off,” but Grandma said, “No, if you take his leg off, he will die anyway, so we are going to bury him. He will have both legs on.” So they took me back home in Eagar doing everything that they thought might help me and nursed me back to health, and I have always thought the prayers and faith that Mother had that I might live with Grandmother’s love and care for me is one reason that I am still living and walking on two legs.

That summer after I was around and was back to normal, I got in a fight with Vernon Hamblin. I was getting the best of the fight and he set his dog on me. The dog got me by the leg and tore a big hole in the calf of my leg so I was sick with a bad leg for a long time, and I still have the scar from the bite. (Later on I got a chance to shoot the dog, and I did just that.)

Dad had bought a ranch in Greer in the spring before school was out. Dad took me to Greer and I was to carry the mail from Greer to Springerville and back the same day. I stayed at the ranch that Spring alone and I was afraid every night. A cow had died in the field not very far from the house. A big black bear would come almost every night and eat on the cow. I had a dog with me that stayed under the house. I always knew when the bear was around, the dog would bark and would go down where the bear was, and then the bear would chase the dog to the house. One night the dog was not fast enough to get under the house. He jumped on the porch and ran against the door, it came open, well, I might not be very fast, but I was fast enough to get the door shut before the bear came in. After that, I would put a nail in the door and put every thing that I could against the door. Sometimes when the moon was shining bright I could watch out of the window and see the bear and the dog going around and around.

Every other day was mail day, and one day I wanted to take a short cut and not go around the road. I knew of a trail that went down a steep canyon that we could go down during the summer when the weather was good. We had a lot of snow and the wind had blown over the bluff into the canyon causing large and deep snowdrifts. The weather had been cold, and there was a hard frozen crust on the snow. Not knowing the danger and risk I was taking, I got my horse out on the snow. The drift was steep, running down to the botom (sic) of the canyon. My horse stumbled and fell on the snow. I tried to get back but it was too late, we started to slide, roll and tumble until we got to the bottom, it must have been 400 to 500 feet from the top to the bottom. That was the reason we did not break through (the snow) (because) the horse was never able to get on his feet, he stayed on his side all the way down. I gathered things up and went on. I had to cross the river. I rode into the stream and water washed me from my horse. I could not swim but I managed to grab hold of a willow and got out. My horse had gone down the road without me. A Thompson boy saw the horse and he knew that something was wrong. He caught the horse and came back, about three miles before he found me. I was afraid to tell Dad, but I had lost some mail in the river that belonged to Mr. Cambell who lived on the river so he went to Mr. Becker who was the past Master about his mail. Father came up to Greer to see just what had happened. Mr. Cambell had told him that the trail was full of snow and he did not know how the kid got to the river. Father went down to see just what did happen. That drift was more than 100 feet deep covering some of the tall pine trees. It frightened Dad so bad that he forbade me to go there again until the snow was gone. Well, he did not have to tell me, because I relized (sic) if we had broken the crust we would have been there until Spring.

The family moved to Greer that Spring. We farmed, milked cows and made butter and cheese. I was the cheese maker. We would milk the cows at night and then in the morning strain the milk into a big wash tub, but we had to have the milk up to a certin (sic) temperature and put a white tablet they called rennut which would cause the milk to curdel (sic) or clabber. Mother would tell me what to do. She would put in salt and collaring (coloring?), and then I would do the rest. We would dip all the water or whey off, leaving what we called curd, then pour hot water over the curd, drain that off, then chop it quite fine, put it in a sack called cheese cloth, then put it in a wooden cog (?), put pressure on, to squse (squeeze) what water or whey might be left, and leave it to cure. This was done every day, six times a week, until we had enough for the winter.

That summer, we had a lot of chipmunks that would eat about everything and was (sic) a real pest. They lived in holes in rocks and trees. They would travel from the trees on our pole fence to our field and garden. We had a lot of fun trying to get rid of them. We would watch and when we would see them runing (sic) along the fence we would call the dog. Some of us would run down to one end of the fence and some to the other. They would stay on the fence trying to go back, and as the chipmunks came along we would knock them from the fence with a long stick. We killed a lot of them that way.

One day, father was out helping us. He got excited and was having fun with us. My brother Roland knocked a chipmunk towards Dad but did not kill it. It ran up Father’s pants leg; you would of (sic) thought a big bear was after him. He graved (sic) his pants where the chipmunk was and calling for help, we ran over where he was trying to get his pants off. We finally did. We shook his pants and found nothing but hamburger. Father had squeezed that little fellow so hard that it looked like it had been run through a meat grinder, and that was the last time Father tried to help us in killing the chipmunks.

I seemed to be the fisherman in the family, and it was part of our living. There was no limit at that time, and the streams and lakes was (sic.) full of fish. Quite often, I would take some of the fish with me when I took the mail and would sell them to a Mr. Holt who worked for Mr. Becker. He would give me 10 cents a pound and that was a lot of money, and the only money that I got from carrying the mail.

Father had a cousin Dewayne Hamblin. He was always saying what a good fisherman he was. One day, Father told him that he had a little redheaded freckled-faced kid to outfish him. Cousin Dewayne did not like it so Father bet him $25 (in the retelling of this story this became $100.). that I could outfish him. (That was a church bet which was never paid, win or lose), so the contest was on. The day was agreed on, the families got together and all went down on the river below the river reservoir for the big event and for a day of pleasure. And it was no laughing matter with Cousin Dewayne. He did not want a kid like me to be a better fisherman. The rules was (sic.) made, to start at the same time, stay close to each other and then stop at the same time. Cousin Dewayne had his two daughters, Wilmaith and Eva come along and count and carry the fish. Cousin Dewayne was a (sic) honorable man and wanted to play fair. He thought that we were even in numbers so he said, we will quit, but I guess that I was not quite as fair as Cousin Dewayne because I wanted to win and not let Dad down. At a bend in the stream, I had caught a fish that was not counted, and I put it in my pocket (the story later was told that Stan dropped it in his fishing boot) and not in my bag, so we went back to the camp and counted each bag. I had managed to put my extra fish in the bag with them not seeing me. When the fish was (sic) counted, I had one more than Cousin Dewayne. He laughed and said that your boy is not a better fisherman, he just outsmarted me. He was a good sport and many years after that he would talk about our little contest. He was a good man and a real friend to all of us.

It seemed like I was looking for fish whenever I had a chance. That Spring when we first moved to the ranch, I was walking along a filling ditch just above our house and I saw some big fish. I went back home and wanted Roland to go with me and maybe we could catch some of them. Roland had been sick and Mother did not want him to go with me, but she said, “Well, he can go, but if you get him wet, I will whip both of you.” We got some pitchforks and went down to the ditch and we worked until we got a real big fish in shallow water and then stuck it with the fork. It was one of the largest fish I have ever seen, a native trout, 24 inches long. We both got wet. I tied the fish on my belt behind me and we went home. Mother was really upset when we came in the house. I said, “Mother, I am sorry we got wet but could not help it. So I guess you will have to give me a whipin.” So I turned aroud, when she saw that fish, she was so excited that she forgot all about what she was going to do. I cleaned the fish and cut it up and the family had a big fish fry that night.

We always had a lot of things to do that we could enjoy ourselves. Life was never dull some time we would do things that Dad did not like and then life was not quite so bright. Father was gone most of the time, so it was up to Mother and we boys to run the ranch. Mother never did get very excited about things, so we were quite free when Dad was gone. We always had a lot of visitors. That was our social life, visiting each other. One night we had company, the wind was blowing hard, everybody talking and making a lot of noise. I had wind on my stomach and wanted to get rid of it. I opened the door, stuck my head out and pooped off, thinking that noone would hear me. I shut the door and said it was really blowing outside. Dad had heard me and he said, “Yes, my boy, it seems to be blowing inside, too.”

We moved back to Eagar that fall in time for school. I did not go to school that winter, I stayed out to plow, feed the cattle and sometimes carry the mail. One night, I went to a dance, I did not have a dance ticket so I stayed outside. The Church always had a dance manager, and he was sometimes called the breath smeller. Anyone that came in the dance hall that they thought might be drinking, they would smell their breath and if they smeled (sic.) whisky on them, they could not come in. Bro. Edman Nelson was at the door that night, when three men who had been drinking tried to go into the hall. Bro. Nelson tried to stop them, but he was no match for three of them. They got him outside and pulled his coat tail, pushing him from one side to the other, making fun, at least they thought so. Bro. Nelson had them arested (sic.) and brought them into court. I was called as a witness. Before they put me on the witness stand, the judge who was a Mr. Tony Long called out for me to come forward. He said, “Stone Hamblin.” I did not answer, he then said, “Stean Hamblin.” I still did not answer. “Stout Hamblin.” I still not answer. Mr. Long said, “What in hell is your name, anyway?” And everybody laughed. From then until now, I still have some of my friends call me one of the above names, Stean, Stone, or Stout. I guess I was about 14.

After testifying for Bro. Nelson, he thought I was his friend and I worked for him. Sometimes I stayed at his home that spring and carried mail from Eagar to Luna, New Mexico on horseback. I would go over one day and back the next. It was a hard trip about 50 miles each way, sometimes I would have mail stacked all over the horse that I could bearly (sic.) see out enough to ride. My lunch every day was a two large baking powder biscuits with a friend egg and a piinch of salt pork in each biscuit, but it realy (sic.) tasted good when I would stop and feed my horse and rest at noon. I would stay with Bro. and Sister Amasa Reynold, and we have always been good friends since that time.

My schooling was quite limited. Father and Mother always would say, you do not have good health and outdoor life is what you will need for a longer life. I do not remember graduating from the eighth grade. I was out of school so much that I just stopped going. When I was eighteen, I went to St. Johns Stake Academy, a church school, for three terms, but I was always from four to six weeks late in the fall, and then went back home a month before the school was out for the summer.

At this time, the draft was on for the Army. Wilford, Roland and John and I got my call. But I did not pass the exam. I always thought that I did, but somebody had to run the farm. I tried to volunteer and was turned down again. Well, I was not very large, I had to stand in the same place twice to make a shadow. I boasted 116 pounds when fully dressed with a few rocks in my pocket. We had a large farm and my father thought that I should know how to do everything, but I never did do many things that would please him. Well, that was the way I would feel at times, but maybe most children sometimes get in that mood.

We would plow with four horses, sometimes with two, but to plow 100 acres, it seemed like we was (sic) plowing all the time. Then plant it, mark it in small furrows, then to turn a small stream of water in each furrow so it would not wash was a job for an experienced man, but I tried, not because I wanted to, but I had to. When the grain was ripe, I would cut it with a grain binder that would cut it and bind it in small rolls, and then leave them on the ground. It took four big horses to pull this machine. After the grain was cut, we would gather the little bundles and put them in small stacks about 12 bundles to a stack, called shocks with the heads up. Then after the grain was dry we would load them on a wagon and haul them to a machine, called a thrasher, that would beat the grain out so the wheat or oats would run out of a small pipe into a sack, and the straw would go out another way to be stacked for feed for our cattle.

David K. Udall had the mail contract from Springerville to Holbrook. One day his mail driver was sick and he asked Father if I could go, I was only 15, but Father said I could go. It took four days to make the trip, two days down and two days back. We had a buckboard and two horses. Sometimes, just one horse and one horse cart. We would stock at Hunt, 30 miles north of St. Johns, camp for the night and then on to Holbrook. I had never seen a train. I went over to the RR depo (sic) to watch to see if one would come in. Sure enough, one was coming from the east and one from the west on different tracks, but I thought that they were on the same track, and I was sure they were going to crash. I got under a big box, and when I got out I was surprised to see them still going on the same track. Well, I went back with the mail for another trip. I went over to see the train again, this time it was a long freight train going along real slow. I wanted to ride on a train, so I grabed (sic.) onto the side of the train that had a lader (sic.) on the side. Well, it got to going quite fast, I was frightened and I knew that I had to get off as the train went around a curve, the grade was high so I let go and jumped off. I rolled, rolled, and rolled, but I did not get hurt.

Well, I carried mail, hearded (sic.) sheep, run the farm, but never did receive any money for it. However, I do remember Father giving me $1.00 for the 4th July. Father did not have a cash job and what little money we could get went for taxes and for family needs. He had his mother’s family and his to look after and he did good job in providing for so many.

Joseph Udall was our Bishop and our neighbor, and they were milking about six cows. They would turn them out on the streets and they were bad to break down or jump over fences. They kept getting in our field of grain. So one day, I drove them in our corral. I found five large five-gallon cans. I put some rocks in each can so they would rattle and then tied a can to each cow’s tail and then ran them out of the corral. Well, you can talk about the excitement it was! There half of the town turned out to see if the US Army had come to town. I was really having a good time, until I saw one of the Udall boys coming my way. He was four years older than I was. I ran, but it did not do me any good. I knew that I was going to get a beating, but he just set down on me and started to laugh. Then he said, “Well, Stan, do not do that again, but that was the best show that I have seen all summer.”

In the year 1812 and 1913, Father was building the Lyman dam, 12 miles south of St. Johns. He had gone on a bond for a Mr. Dave Rencher and WH Gibbons who had the contract to build the dam, but they failed and the state tried to collect the bond, but my father said, “I can not pay the bond, but I will build the dam.” And he did. He was able to pay all the bills and paid the men who had been working for Rencher and Gibbons.

I worked on the dam when I was not farming. I took care of the horses and helped in the cook shack some and kept time on the men. The dam was built with dirt hauled in on wagons about two yards to the wagonload. At first, we dug out a large deep ditch, then built a bridge over it so a team and wagon could drive under the bridge. The bridge had a hole in the top. The wagon was stopped under the hole. The men that was (sic.) driving and pulling a scraper called a fregno would fill it with dirt and then drive over the bridge and dump the dirt into the wagon. This was a very slow process so Father bought a machine called a loading grader. It took 20 had of horses to pull the machine, 16 in the front and four behind. It would plow the dirt and elevate it up so a wagon could be filled with the dirt from the elevator as they went along without stopping. Father was a good manager and he knew how to do things well and get along with the working men. However, I always felt that he was always on the other fellow’s side more than he was on his own. He was working about 100 men and he was carrying a heavy expense load so we could not have the work stop. A man by the name of John Hall was driving the grader with the 20 head of horses. He and Father were very good friends, but Hall was what they call a hot head. Father said something that he did not like. He jumped from the grader and said, “Jake, if you know so much, just run it yourself.” Father stood his ground. He sent someone after me. I went over to the grader and Dad said, “Stan, do you (think) you could drive that outfit?” I said, “Well I do not know, but I will try.”

Well, we got along very good and I thought I was a better driver of those twenty head of horses than John Hall ever was, and Father inflated my ego some by telling me that I wss a top hand. Well, you know that sometimes those good things do not always last, and if you alow (sic) your ego to become inflated too high, it might bust. Well, that was just what happened to me.

We had to get the dirt whereever we could. Father had cautioned me several times not to leave the grader in the hole where we were getting the dirt. Well, one day we had been working at the end of a dry wash, the hole was deep, we stoped (sic) for noon. We took the harness from the horses and left everything on the ground and went to dinner. Well, I could handle the grader and the horses well, and I knew that I could, but I forgot or neglected to remember Dad’s admonition and went off and left everything in the big deep hole. Well, while we were gone, a big rain storm came up and filled the hole covering the grader, wagons, harnesses and everything we had left when we went for dinner. And that was the last time we used the big grader. We spent sometime in diging (sic) a ditch to drain the water out of the hole. You could have called it a lake because in some places it was about 20 foot deep.

I guess that Dad thought that I was a better farmer than I was a dam builder. I was out of school that year and did not go back until the next school year. A Sister Wilbank that lived at Greer was runing (sic) a bording (sic) house for the school so I stayed there. It was the JT LeSuer home. He sold it to the church and moved to Mesa, Ariz. A man by the name of Sam Right had a barbershop just across the street. One day he was beating one of his boys, and I was standing by watching him. Well, I guess I was feeling sorry for the boy, and I said to Mr. Right, “You hit that boy again, we are going to beat you up.” He said, “You and who else?” I yelled at him and said, “Me, and all my friends here.” Well, he let the little boy go, but said nothing. About two weeks after that, I went into his shop for a hair cut. He took his clippers and cut a strip down through the center of my head and then said, “Stan, that makes us even.” He moved up into Utah but came back several times, and he would hunt me up if I was in town and would always tell me, “I have never whiped (sic) another child,” and would thank me for calling him some bad names, telling him what kind (of) a man he was. I do not remember just what I did say but I am sure that I was not a gentelman (sic) or a good Dad.

I was too small to take very much of a part in athletics, but did some long distant runing (sic). There was a contest being held at Snowflake, Arizona between St. Johns and Snowflake. Jess Lewis and myself wanted to run in the mile race but they thought that we were not good enough but said we could not be in the starting line but could run after the rest started. So we wanted to try. We got ahead of the other six that was runing (sic), but they underrated us. We kept getting farther ahead on each lap and on the last quarter mile they were quite sure that we did not count in the race and that we could not hold up at the rate we were runing (sic), but it was too late. So Jessie Lewis (2nd) and myself (1st) were first and second in the mile race. St. Johns won the contest and after we came home, the town was putting on a little celebration matching single men against the married men with various events. I was put in the ring with Judge A.S. Gibbons in a boxing contest. I don’t know why, unless I was always on the fight and would try most anyone that wanted to fight. Judge Gibbons was larger than I was, and I was somewhat afraid of him. I guess that I was not a very good sport, so I went after him with all that I had and broke his nose. It was never properly taken care of at that time and he always had a crooked nose after that. And I always felt that I was to blame.

During that time, if we wanted a little excitement or fun, if you might call it that, we had to stir (up) something ourselves, and fighting was one of the main events. And it was with your bare fists and no gloves and if a new boy came to town, he always had to prove himself in order to be excepted (sic) into the town boys. There was a boy by the name of Herbert Day that some of the boys thought that he was the best fighter and some of my friends thought that I was - at least they made us believe that we were. Well, Herbert and myself talked it over each thinking that we were the best, and so we agreed to go somewhere alone and try to see which one was the best. Well, we did just that and after we had pounded on each other, we stoped (sic) to rest, and decided that we were not getting any fun out of the fight, so we agreed to call it an even fight and went home.

I weighed 116 pounds when I was married.

(This is the end of this account of his life by Stan Hamblin. Later on, he shared with his family some other stories that are recorded elsewhere. Agnes wrote the following events and dates.)

William Stanton Hamblin

William Stanton Hamblin was born on 24th May 1893 in Eagar, Apache County, Arizona.

His mother’s name was Sasdie Cornelia Lytle, born on 10th of October, 1866 in Panaca, Nevada. Her mother’s name was Lucy Clarinda Atchison Lytle and her father was William Perry Lytle.

His father’s name was Jacob Hamblin, born 21st (22nd?) March, 1865 at Santa Clara, Utah. His father was Jacob Vernon Hamblin.

William Stanton Hamblin was blessed by L.J. Brown 3rd of August 1893.

Baptized by brother Orson Wilkins 7 July 1901.

Confirmed by his father, Jacob Hamblin Jr.

(Editor’s note: sic. means that even thought there was a grammatical error or spelling error in the original, it was left as it was in the copy.)

Sadie Hamblin

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 17:12:16 GMT

Donated by Joan Hamblin

joanhamblin@sbcglobal.net

Death Calls Early Arizona Pioneer

On February 20, 1940, at Mesa, Arizona, death claimed “aunt” Sadie Hamblin , Northern Arizona Pioneer. She passed away quietly, after several months of suffering.

Sadie Cornelia Lytle, the daughter of William and Lucy Lytle, was born at Panaca, Nevada, October 10, 1867. She was married to a Jacob Hamblin, December 9, 1885 in the St. George Temple, Utah.

The young people spent the first years of married life in Pleasanton, New Mexico, but returned to Nutrioso, Arizona about 1878 or 9, where they made their home for many years, and where several of their children were born. Here her husband was bishop of the Ward, which then meant that he must keep an open house for any stranger or visitor who came into the town. Also that the condition of each member of the community must always be known to the Bishop. And it was the business and duty of the ‘Father of the Ward” and his good wife, not only to entertain, but help maintain and minister to anyone needing assistance of any kind. Thus it was that “Jake and Sadie Hamblin” became known throughout this part of Arizona, for their hospitality and especially “Aunt Sadie” for her kindness and helpfulness in sickness, trouble and death. She was a veritable “ministering angel” at such times, bringing hope and comfort by her calm and genial personality. The family later removed to Greer and Eagar. Here their last five children were born.

In 1914 when Jacob Hamblin was elected Sheriff of Apache County, they bought a home and took up their residence in St. Johns. Here the family grew to maturity and most of them married. They then removed to Phoenix and owned a nice home there for several years, and finally the last two or three years, resided in Mesa.

Sadie Hamblin lived during all the pioneer conditions incident to the colonizing of the Western country. Her husband …(blurred or not readable)… after outlaws who drove on the people’s horses and cattle, leaving his wife along long periods with little ones or the sick, and no help near. Often Indians or outlaws came to the homes of the early settlers and demanded food, or other things. Sadie was not a stranger to these circumstances and learned cheerfulness and self-control under all conditions. Her first home was a crude log cabin of the earliest type, her last a nice city residence with all modern conveniences, but it was always a real HOME, where her dear ones were assured of love and understanding.

She was the mother of fourteen children, ten are surviving, and nine were present at her funeral. They are Wilford Hamblin of Safford, Arizona, Stan Hamblin of St. Johns, Arizona, Roland Hamblin of Eagar, Arizona, John Hamblin of Mesa, Arizona, Alma, Mrs. Don R. Patterson of St. Johns, Arizona, Velora, Mrs. Harvey Ellsworth of Showlow, Arizona, Lawson Hamblin of Washington, D.C., Elbert Hamblin of St. Johns, Arizona, Tannie, Mrs. Carl Guthrie of Jerome, Arizona, Lavern, Mrs. Kent Pomeroy of Phoenix, Arizona. She also leaves numerous relatives, including brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews and grandchildren to mourn her passing.

Aunt Sadie has not been well since the death of her husband about a year ago. During his long illness, she remained at his bedside to cheer and comfort and minister to his every want, and when the end came, she found her own health utterly broken, and nothing in life to hold her. She seemed discouraged and felt that her life’s work had been accomplished.

Her children have given her every possible attention and consideration, but nothing could be done for her recovery.

Impressive funeral services were held in the St. Johns L.D.S. Chapel at 2 o’clock, February 28, 1940. The floral offerings were especially beautiful. Many incidents of her devotion to her husband and family, kindness and hospitality to strangers, the sick and needy, her faithful Church labors and her splendid management of temporal affairs, whereby her sons and daughters received more than ordinary educational advantages were related by the speakers. Those who spoke and paid tribute were Iris Hamblin Platt, Lorin Farr, Lee Roy Gibbons, Ed Greer, Gilbert Udall, Margaret J. Overson, Emily P. Udall and Myrian Brown. Sentiments were also read from Helena Naegle, Minnie r. Farr, Mary A. Richey, Melva Rencher, Susie V. Hamblin and Ella Greer.

Several beautiful musical numbers were rendered.

Interment was in the Eagar cemetery, where her husband and children, and many of her loved ones are buried.

Original Jacob Hamblin Legacy Organization Mission Statement

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 16:59:10 GMT

This mission statement gets adjusted from time to time but the essence remains the same

Jacob Hamblin devoted his life as a missionary to serve the Native American people. Because he was a modest and humble man, he never sought or received recognition for his many accomplishments. In order to carry forward his vision, we, his literal descendants and interested friends, unitedly pledge to promote his work to the world and declare that he was the most accomplished peacemaker between early American pioneers and the Native American people in history of the American Southwest. We will also promote his achievements as a pioneer, trailblazer, and missionary.

Mark Elbert Hamblin

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 16:55:44 GMT

Donated by Joan Hamblin

Mark Elbert Hamblin

March 14, 1907 – September 20, 1963

Mark Elbert Hamblin was born in Eagar, Arizona, on March 14, 1907, the son of Jacob and Sadie Hamblin. He was the 12th child of 14 children born to Jacob and Sadie. He had six older brothers and two older sisters. He later had two younger sisters. When he was just a little boy, his brother, Carl Maeser, got scarlet fever and went blind and deaf and finally died after Heavenly Father assured his mother that it would be best if he died.

The family moved to St. Johns when Mark was five years old. There he attended grade school and graduated from high school. He later attended the Gila Academy in Thatcher, Arizona and the Lambson Business College in Phoenix.

I only knew Elbert from what Mom and Dad told me about him and that wasn’t very much. As I was growing up, for a number of years we would get a package from Alaska at Christmas time from Uncle Elbert. It was usually smoked salmon which I loved. I learned later that he returned to Arizona about 1960 and married again and in 1965, he died. I was really quite taken with the story he told of his life in Alaska and I think it is one that everyone should hear. It is tragic, but inspiring.

When Elbert was 19 years old (1926) he married Maree Berry. They had four children: Joyce Cooper, Jeanie Larson, Markay Hamblin and Lei Lani Silvers. He loved them very much and was very proud of them.

Uncle Elbert and his family filled a two-year mission in the Hawaiian Islands in the late 1920s. He later went to George Washington Law School and graduated in 1937/ He was admitted to the Arizona State Bar in 1938. His father died in 1939 and his mother in 1940 and soon after that he left Arizona and went to Alaska where he spent 20 years of dramatic and adventurous living in a land he loved so much. Why he left his family, I personally do not know. From what I have been able to figure out, he had some very serious family problems that caused him to leave. I don’t know exactly what they were.

The ruggedness, the glamour, and the great drama of life going on in Alaska had a great influence on him. He left his loved ones, his friends, and all the people that he knew, and went to the country of the far north. It was a new life in a strange, beautiful, rough land.

Southwestern Alaska is a land of breath-taking beauty, a land of many beautiful lakes, beautiful waterfalls, and swift dangerous rivers. It is a land of majestic mountains, covered with eternal snows and many glaciers, a land of million so f beautiful trees and millions of beautiful birds. It is a fisherman’s paradise, a hunter’s dream, a land where the beauty of God’s handiwork is ever present. It is also a land that is rough, where danger and death are always near.

Elbert started traveling with two other young men, one from Wrangell, Alaska and the other from Ketchekan, Alaska. The latter owned a 32-foot fishing boat that they used to go from island to island and from village to village. They lived a life, for a few months, that all men dream of but few experience. They spent their time hunting, fishing and exploring. When they needed food for themselves or fuel for the boat, they stopped and worked for a few days then went on to another beautiful island, cove or inlet, any place that looked dangerous or exciting.

Time was running out for these three young men’s adventures however; it looked as though the United States would be drawn into the war against Germany. Hitler’s armies were running over Europe and soon would soon conquer all of Europe and Asia if not stopped. So thee three men parted company, each going his own way, never to see or hear from each other again.

Elbert went farther north to Seward, Alaska and from there on north to Anchorage. Upon arriving in Anchorage, he found himself without money or a job. However, jobs were plentiful as were credit and money. The most difficult thing was to find a place to sleep. Elbert finally found such a place. He and 46 other men slept in a basement with one side unfinished. It was December and the weather was cold and a considerable amount of snow would blow in on the cots. Within a couple of weeks, Uncle Elbert found a good job and a couple of weeks later, a warm, clean room with cooking privileges.

Life for Uncle Elbert during the next five years was rather exciting, violent and wasted. He got up in the turmoil of the war and wild, rough element that had drifted to Alaska, avoiding the draft. As he said, he was well on the road to destruction. Alcohol was more plentiful that food and so were the heartaches and tears than clean living and progress toward God.

Yes, five years of hard work and thousands of dollars found him in the kingdom of Lucifer, commonly called Hell. He had managed some of the best grocery stores in Anchorage at that time. He had bought and sold a home or two, made thousands of dollars, been in and out of the army, and at the end of the five years, he found himself broke and a pitiful slave to alcohol and tobacco. He knew that he could never return to his family or loved ones, not even to anyone who had known him in his youth. He also knew that he had to leave Anchorage and his friends he had there and go where he could get out into the hills and creeks, away from alcohol before he could regain his health and willpower.

Uncle Elbert said, “My dear brothers and sisters, never sneer at the man who is down, unless you have felt the blow that caused his fall, or felt the shame that only the fallen know because if the load he bears was placed on your back it might cause you to falter too.”

Uncle Elbert decided to go prospecting for gold. He also found his gold. In the fall, he returned to a small village nearer to the creek where his claims were. In this village, during the long winter months, he cut wood, trapped a little, helped the man who owned the trading post, and drank whiskey. Come spring, back to the creeks he went seeking and panning for his gold, until fall, so that he could return to his village and the long winter months of doing odd jobs and drinking whiskey with his alcoholic friends.

The next five years went by in the same alcoholic haze the first five had gone. He defended himself many times in bitter fighting, sometimes with knives, sometimes with guns, and sometimes with clubs, but mostly with his bare fists. It was always in the same condition, pitifully drunk, so drunk that he came through with only a few scars. Others drowned in the swift, cold rivers, a few froze to death, but more died directly from the effects of alcohol.

There were times in the winter when the temperature was down to 40 or 50 degrees below zero. At such times, Uncle Elbert contemplated putting on his snowshoes and just starting out across the great white stillness to walk until he was exhausted, then lie down and go to sleep. Within a short time, this earthly existence would be over and his tortured alcoholic body could rest. Uncle Elbert knew that he could never take his own life because he had been taught the consequences of such an act. He also knew that that would not be an easy way out.

In the early spring of 1951, as Uncle Elbert was walking along beside a river, it suddenly dawned on him that the birch trees had green leaves. He looked at the river and the ice was gone. He looked at the ground and the snow was gone. A great fear came over him. The reason was because just last night when he and some of his friends had started drinking, it had been cold, snow had blanketed the ground, ice had covered the rivers, and the trees had been stiff and dead, without a sign of leaves.

Uncle Elbert went back to the village and found that the start of “last night’s” drinking had been some three months ago. For three long months, he had been in a blackout. He been to parties, dances, been in fights, worked here and there and could not remember one single thing that had taken place. So the sad moment of truth had arrived and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was an hopeless alcoholic and tht without the help of God, he was destroyed. He knew that he should pray but felt so unworthy, useless and dirty, he was unable to do so. His bush pilot friend flew him back to the creeks and left him. In a few days, with good food, hard work, and no alcohol, he had regained a good share of his heath and the will to live.

One exceedingly clear June day, he was walking along a beautiful little creek, searching for a place to pan for gold. The great and beautiful Mt. McKinley towered above him in all its glory, a larger and more beautiful mountain you will nevr see. Uncle Elbert was walking along with a cigarette in his mouth, looking at this majestic mountain and thinking, “O, Father of Heaven and Earth, How Great Thou Art…” when a clear strong voice said, “Throw down that cigarette!” At first he thought that his imagination was playing tricks on him and he kept on walking. A little farther on, this same clear, strong voice, said, “I told you to throw down that cigarette, it is dragging you down!”

Uncle Elbert had known fear many times before in his life, but never had he known what real fear was until now. He thought to himself, “Now, boy, you have lost your mind.” The voice came right back saying, “No, you have not lost your mind. There is no easy way out for you. Do you know who I am?”

The fear was so great that he dared not look to the right or to the left but walked straight ahead.

The voice said, “I am your brother who died when you were a small child.” The voice went along with him for over a mile, telling him he must repent or he would be destroyed and be lost to his loved ones forever. Maeser was his dead brother who told him of the tears and the heartaches he was causing his loved ones in the spirit world. Maeser promised him that if he would repent and leave tobacco alone, in time he would overcome his desire for alcohol and his other bad habits.

After talking for about 30 minutes, Maeser said, “Now I must leave you, so promise that you will throw away your cigarettes and never smoke again.”

“Sure, sure, I promise,” was the answer, and the voice took its leave.

Within one hour Uncle Elbert was smoking as usual. He could not believe that what had happened to him was true. He was so sure that it was the effects of alcohol that he forgot his promise and right on with his pitiful, sad, sickening way of life.

Six months later, on Christmas Eve, after he had returned from a dance in the village, for some strange reason he was partially sober. He had gone to bed and he noticed that it was a little after midnight. So he said to himself, “I’ll smoke my first cigarette on Christmas Day and then go to sleep. Then I’ll wake up in a few hours and go the rounds of all my friends, having a few drinks with each of them.
As he lit his cigarette and lay back on his pillow, he inhaled a big puff and thought how nice it was to go to a dance and return home half sober. Even so, his blood and body were saturated with alcohol.

Suddenly, that same clear, strong voice that he had heard six moths earlier, called him by name, saying, “Mark, you are a liar, aren’t you? You are a liar who is so weak that you cannot keep your word!”

When the fear had subsided enough, so that Uncle Elbert could think, his first question was, “Do I have another chance?”

The voice said, “Yes, you have another chance, but do not break your promise again.”

Uncle Elbert was then told that he was going to be given another chance because of his children. His loved ones in the spirit world told him that he would have been taken long before if it were not for his children. He was shown what his state would be if he did not repent. His fear was so great that he went into a state of shock.

The rest of the night he lay awake and the next morning, he took a gallon jug of water, an ax, and a cross-cut saw. He put on his snowshoes and went a little ways from the village and started to cut down trees and saw them into stove-wood length.

The first three days and nights he went through the tortures of hell. He would work a few minutes and that terrible desire for alcohol would take hold of him. His head ached, his eyes turned yellow, and his face was swollen and puffed. The sweat that poured from his body seemed to burn his flesh like fire. He would cut and saw until he was sure that death was near and then he would start toward town to get a few drinks to take away the torture. He never got far away from his work, however. He’d fall to his knees and try to pray. At first, he could only say, “Oh, God in Heaven” and then back to his sawing and cutting he’d go. Then he would drink water and become violently sick for a while. Again, he started towards town for a drink or two, but he fell to his knees and prayed again. Then back to cutting, then take a drink of water and become sick again. The first day, he could not ever hold any water on his stomach.

The second day was much like the first. By night, he could hold down a little soup but could eat nothing like solid food. The third day, he took a bottle of milk along with the jog of water. The milk would not stay down, but he knew he would live. All this time, he had a package of cigarettes in his pocket, but never put one to his lips. He could have gone to town at any time and had all the whiskey he could drink, but he has never drunk a drop of any type of liquor nor has he ever touched a cigarette to this day.

At the end of the third day, before returning to town, he took an inventory of himself. For three days, he had worked and sweated and cut enough wood to last one person through a day and a night, if they were careful. For three days, he had been unable to hold food on his stomach, but he felt like he could soon eat food and enjoy it. For three days, he had not touched a cigarette or a drop of liquor and most of the time, all he would say was, “Oh, God My Father.” But this night, he knew he had won his battle with liquor and tobacco. The sky and trees were never so beautiful, but he had a long way to go. For the next seven or eight weeks, he cut about 30 cords of wood and regained his health. Not only was this man’s life changed, but the whole village changed for the better. Everyone had been so sure that this man could not leave tobacco and liquor alone. Without realizing it, the old trappers and miners developed the desire to do better and to help their children to do better.

In the yeas to follow, Uncle Elbert sent his boy on a mission and put him through college. He also helped his daughter and their families. Within four years, he had bought an inn and had paid for it. The people who had owned the inn wanted to sell. They came to Uncle Elbert and asked him to go in with a friend of theirs and take the hotel off their hands.

They said, “We know you’re broke and we know how you have lived in the past. We have been watching your struggle the past weeks. We do not know what has caused you do this, but we believe you are honest, and if you will do this, we will not ask for a down payment. You just pay so much a month. You do not even need to sign the papers unless you wish to.”

As soon as the inn was paid for, the man owning the trading post came to Uncle Elbert and offered him the same deal on the trading post.

Soon he owned and operated the power and electric plant. Then he was the postmaster and had many other interests and holdings. Due to the influence and trust the people placed in him, he came to act as the unofficial law and order. The closest official law was in Anchorage, 200 miles away.

He was not active in the church there because there was not even a branch there. He served his fellowmen in sickness and in death. In time of death, he helped dig the grave, make the casket, prepare the body for burial and deliver the graveside sermon. He acted as their legal counselor, their trusted advisor. He never betrayed their trust.

Uncle Elbert finally decided to come back to the lower 48. and in the early 60s he came to Arizona. Soon after, he renewed some old friendships and married LaVel Whiting DeSpain and lived with her and her family and became a father to her children. Then after a short illness, he died September 20, 1963. I’m sure the many years of hard living finally caught up with him.

Uncle Elbert said he would always feel very humble, very thankful and yes, very unworthy when he kneels to pray to his Father.

Uncle Elbert then quoted the story of the old violin.

The Auctioneer picked up the old violin and held it with the bow. “What am I bid?” said the auctioneer in a voice that was soft and low. “One dollar, two dollars. Two dollars, who’ll make it three? Three dollars, three dollars once, three dollars twice, going, going…”

But , no. From the room far back, a gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow. Brushing the dust from the old bow and tightening the loose strings, he played a meoldy pure and sweet, as sweet as the angel sings.

“One thousand dollars, two thousand, two thousand, who’ll make it three? Three thousand once, Three thousand twice, going, going and gone.”

The people cheered, but some of them cried. They could not quite understand the change of the worth. But quick came the reply, “The touch of the master’s hand.”

So it is in the ways of life, those who are scarred with sin are auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd much like the old violin.

A bowl of porridge, a game of cards, a drink, and he travels on. He’s going once, he’s going twice, he’s almost gone. Then the Master comes and the foolish crowd cannot quite understand. The worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought by the touch of the Master’s hand.

Help us Father of Heaven and Earth to love our fellowmen and always be willing to help those who need help. Blind us to the faults of others and reveal unto us our own is this man’s constant prayer.

***

This story of Uncle Elbert was copied and rewritten and edited by Ellis W. Hamblin, July 6, 1996 from his story collected by Uncle John Hamblin and given at Uncle Elbert’s funeral and taken from a talk given by Uncle Elbert for church telling about himself.

Jake remembers when Elbert was back in Arizona. He was working at a Circle K store in Mesa. Jake went in and asked for a pack of gum. It had been at least 20 years since they had seen each other; Jake had been only about seven or eight years old. Elbert looked at Jake and said, “Are you that snot-nosed son of Stan Hamblin?” Jake said, “I sure am.”

Jonathan and Thomas Haynes

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 16:52:18 GMT

Donated by Joan Hamblin

Jonathan and Thomas Haynes

This is an account of Jonathan Haynes and Thomas Haynes being called up in the Revolutionary Army. Because of the continuation of the names, Jonathan and Thomas, I have no doubt that the account I sent before is about our family. Here is another, earlier, story in the same family. I am not sure who the Jonathan on that conscription list was because Thomas Haynes' father, Jonathan, died before the Revolutionary War.

-Joan Hamblin

The following letter is from Jake's cousin Ellis Hamblin. Ellis' mother did a LOT of genealogy.

I wanted to share a story with you about one of your ancestors. Nobody ever told me the story. I'm sure even my grandparents didn't know it. They were all dead when I was born. Mother did a whole lot of research on my father's line and she wrote this story on the back of a family group sheet. I got the sheet after my mother and father were dead. It is about your 9th great-grandfather. That is quite a long time ago. It is Jacob Hamblin's mother's family (Daphne Haynes)

Your 9th great-grandfather was Jonathan Haynes and he lived in Massachusetts a few years after the first people came to America and settled there. As you may know, most of the people lived close to the ocean and very few people had moved very far into the wild, unsettled country inland. Jonathan Haynes had taken his family and settled close to a small town called Haverhill. There were lots of Indians who lived in the wilderness surrounding Haverhill. They had settled there and build a log cabin and cut down the large trees so they could have a patch of land around that cabin to grow crops on. Their family consisted of the father Jonathan and the mother Sarah and six children. The oldest daughter was married and moved away. The four oldest remaining children were out helping their father harvest their crop of beans on the particular day. It as August 15, 1696 when an Indian raiding party attacked them and took Jonathan and the four children captive.

They took the family to an Indian village called Penacock (where Concord, New Hampshire now is located). One group of Indians took Father Jonathan and 16-year-old Thomas north to the area where the state of Main now is. The Indians had a custom of capturing people from other tribes and white people and making them work as slaves for them. After a period of time, they were able to escape from their captors and return home. A second group of Indians took 19-year-old Mary, 12-year-old Jonathan Jr. and 7-year-old Joseph up into Canada. When they got there, these children were sold to the French. When Jonathan found out where they were, he tried to get them back and was able to buy Mary's freedom with 100 pounds of tobacco which he carried on a hand sled to Canada to get her. Her brothers were never given their freedom until they had worked there for quite a number of years and they then stayed inCanada and eventually became wealthy farmers.

Two years after their first capture, on 22 Feb. 1698, when Jonathan Sr. was 52-year-old, he and a neighbor Samuel Ladd were killed by another raiding party of Indians and Thomas, Jonathan's 18-year old son and Daniel Ladd, son of Samuel Ladd, were captured and taken to Penacock. Thomas was released a year later, after a ransom was paid. When he was released, he was given a fine cane by his captor, an Indian Chieftan. This was a token of respect for Thomas's good behavior while a prisoner. The cane was in possession of a member of the family in 1855 and was considered a work of art.

The Church Published A Book On Jacob Hamblin

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 01:52:27 GMT

The author was James Little

President George Q. Cannon had a series of books published by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for the young men of the church called the “ Faith Promoting Series. ” Currently, Archive Publishers is the only group with these books in print. Book 5 was on Jacob Hamblin , written by James A. Little . James interviewed Jacob while he was still alive. President Cannon noted that each person featured in the “ Faith Promoting Series ” were faithful early elders of the church who personally knew the prophet Joseph Smith Jr. The General Board of The Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Association of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints originally published his book in 1945-1946. The authors wrote each book with an audience of young men of the church in mind. For this reason, these books are all fun and easy reads.

New copies can be purchased at Archive Publishers

Used copies can be purchased on Amazon.com

Also can be purchased at Deseret Book

Elizabeth Reed Stoddard

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 01:39:36 GMT

Donated by Joan Hamblin

Submitted by Joan Hamblin

This is on the Daphne Haynes line...Elizabeth Reed Stoddard is her grandmother and Jacob Vernon Hamblin's maternal great grandmother. It was handwritten, and some words I cannot make out. She was in her 90s at the time this statement was taken... maybe even close to 100. I have her birth as being 1739, so if that's right she was 98 at this time. Joan

State of Vermont

County of Grand Isle???? /

On the tenth day of July, 1837

Personally appeared before the undersigned Judge of probate in

Foresaid county Elizabeth Stoddard a resident of

North St….. in said county ninety three

Years who being first duly sworn according to law

On her oath make the following declaration

In order to obtain the benefit of the provision made

By the act of Congress passed July 4, 1836

That she is the widow of David Stoddard

Who was a private and sergeant in the Revolutionary army

And served as follows:

He served in the Connecticut troops different periods during the Revolution.

He served one tour of six months, one tour of nine months, and one tour of a year. He served in all between two and three years.

…. Connecticut ….. but I cannot recollect all the names of his officers.

His first service was as a private. And his last ………… was as an orderly. I had his two discharges. His last one a sergeant warrant which I gave to the (children.) ?

I further declare that my maiden name was Elizabeth Reed. I was married to the said David Stoddard by the Reverend M. Ripley in the town of Abbington in the state of Connecticut in the year 1761 as near as I can state the time. I know it was several years before the Battle of the B….. for my husband was in that battle. I believe we lived in Lebanon when he first entered the service. My said husband died on the 14th of November, 1820 at North Hero, Vermont . I have remained a widow ever since. that ………….. ………….. will never fully appear by the proof hereto . My recollection is indistinct…….. to old age and infirmities. My husband, as I believe I .. …. …. …. as sergeant … … of his … service … …. private.

I have no documentary evidence in support of my claim.

Sworn and subscribed to before me this 10th day of July, 1837 and I testify that ………. …………. By reasons of bodily infirmity. I have ….. this declaration at her ……….. as she is very old and infirm. …. She is a credible……, the last line in the deposition ………… before …………………

Judge Allen, Judge of Probate

Signed with an X and the Judge wrote Elizabeth Stoddard, her mark.

Clara Melvina Hamblin Nicoll Staley Family History

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 01:36:13 GMT

Donated by Joan Hamblin

Clara Melvina Hamblin Nicoll Staley

Jacob,

Attached is a biography of Clara Malvina Hamblin Nicoll Staley, youngest daughter of Jacob Hamblin and Sarah Priscilla Leavitt. I thought I sent it earlier, but cannot find an outgoing email to you. Thanks for your work in organizing the Hamblin Family.

Contributed by Colleen Hutchinson

Clara Melvina Hamblin Nicoll Staley

Compiled by Granddaughter Dana Campbell

It is a treasure to find a handwritten journal of someone as special as a grandmother. I knew her as an elderly woman, strong in spite of many health problems, well into her seventies until her death at eighty-three. To me she was wonderful companionship and affection, a soft lap, and full of fascinating stories that ranged from tales of the wild west (“It was even wilder than you've heard.” she said.), to ghost stories, and best of all, her testimony of the reality of Heavenly Father and the Gospel. Much of my testimony in those days was because I knew that she ‘knew’.

How remarkable then to read her words as someone young, passionate and romantic, full of song and entertainment, playing the organ and the guitar, adding her singing with that of her husband’s legendary voice. Still enduring were her tremendous wit, her love of Roosevelt and the Democratic Party, her love of nature and its beauty everywhere, her strong, but then unpopular beliefs that children cannot be spoiled by being loved and treated well. Still she mourned her losses, tears flowing whenever she spoke of the death of the three of her thirteen children who died yet babies. She felt that she suffered inordinately because her deep feelings never seemed to be able to harden. But in the same breath she would proclaim God’s great goodness to her that she was able to feel so much joy in sunsets, flowers, ocean and music. Included here are excerpts from her own journal.

March 1934, San Diego, California. Written by Clara Hamblin Staley.
I was born in Kanab, Kane County Utah November 5, 1876. My father moved his family to Arizona when I was but two years old. He was called as a pioneer to make settlements in Arizona with other L.D.S. My father built a two room log house, plowed ground, set out an orchard of apples, plums and other fruit in Amity. I had two brothers born in Amity and when I was only six years old, we moved to Pleasant, New Mexico. This was a very beautiful valley. Our town was built on the banks of the Frisco River. The ground was fertile and the climate warm. My father planted another orchard and we had a lovely farm, flour mill and molasses mill. We could have prospered in this place but a very dishonest man who sold the land to the Mormons waited until the houses and land were paid for. Then before he made the deeds out in their name, sold all the land to a wealthy man and skipped out in the night and we were all left homeless.
Father had spent twenty years of his life as a peacemaker and missionary among the Indians. He had gone through much privation and hardship and was sick and worn out. Father started back from Round Valley sick and only with his little grandson Duane eleven years old, with steep mountains and hills to climb. It took them about ten days to make the trip. Father got very, very sick and when they got him home he was unconscious. He lived only three days and died. I remember him lying there all those days with his eyes closed and never spoke a word. Poor Father, he had done so much good and was one of the bravest and best men that ever lived.
While we lived in this beautiful place called Pleasant, I want to relate some of my Indian experiences. It was the year the Apaches, with old Geronimo at the head, left the Apache reservation and went across the White and Mogolon Mountains killing everything and everyone they ran across. One time shortly after father died, my mother, my two small brothers and myself, with my very big half brother Joseph Hamblin, and another family started on a trip to Round Valley to see my sister Ella who had been married more than a year before and had a little son. And of course we were very anxious to see them. We knew the Apaches were on the war path and shouldn't have gone. One night we arrived at a beautiful canyon, a clear stream of water running, lots of wood and plenty of grass for the horses. I remember the beautiful trees and flowers, an ideal camping spot. The men with their teams halted and started to unhitch the horses. My mother rose up so all could hear and said “We must not stop here; we will all be killed by Indians if we do. Some of the party said we must stop, our horses are tired and here is everything we need. Mother made such a fuss, so we all drove on and about 10 o'clock came to a ranch and stopped. A few days later we heard a party of Negroes camped where we wanted to camp. The Indians came on them while they were asleep and killed them all. Mother thanked the Lord for her timely warning and said never again would she tempt fate by traveling when there was so much danger. We arrived in Round Valley all right, but we had to get back home. Our sister and her husband went back with us to Pleasant. Every day we would hear of some one being killed and with fear and trembling we reached home at last where we were in almost as much danger as we were on the road.
One night in August of 1886 my sister Ella came running telling us the Indians were in town. I was sick in bed with chills and fever, but I was so badly frightened that I sprang out of bed and got ahead of the rest heading for the store and hotel (which had a high adobe stockade or fence with port holes around it. Just as I crossed the bridge over the big wash, I saw an Indian with a red handkerchief around his forehead pass under the bridge. No one believed me then, but next day they found moccasin tracks and my brother-in-law’s team of horses was stolen. That was quite a calamity as the men folk would freight ore from the Crinny Silver mines near Alma, New Mexico to Silver City.
On another occasion I went with my nephew Joe Windsor to milk his cows. He told me to get up on the shed and watch for Indians. I did as I was told and I thought I would scare him. I told him I thought I saw something that looked like Indians. He got up to see and we did see an army of soldiers with Indian scouts. We hooked the team to the buck board as quickly as possible, his mother with three smaller children got in and we drove by after mother and the rest and went to the store. The soldiers marched on to the foot of the dug way with Mountains on the right. The Indians were hidden among the rocks and commenced firing on them. It was only three miles away, and we could hear every shot. Four soldiers were killed and the young captain’s horse was shot and killed. He was shot through the leg. He rolled behind his horse. The soldiers had to run or they would all have been killed. The mail carrier came by on the run the next day and found the captain alive but badly hurt. The mail driver brought him by my sister’s who kept the inn and she took coffee and cake out to him. Although he was suffering he was smiling all over and the happiest man I ever have seen to think his life was spared. Ranchers and travelers were being killed every day and no one had power to stop them. There were no Mormons killed and our boys were on the road freighting all the time.
One night 2 men about twenty five and thirty years old stopped at the inn and said they were going back to God’s Country, one to his sister, the other to his wife and babe. They had been working in the Cooney Mines and had to go to Silver City to the Railroad to get home back east. They were very jolly and happy and could hardly wait to get started. But they only got as far as Cactus Flat six miles from Pleasant when they were cruelly murdered by the Indians. They brought them back to bury them. I saw them. It was awful. I was just a little child eight years old, but I shall never forget it. I was so badly frightened all the time that I could not sleep and could find no peace. It seemed like we were all in fear and trembling all the time.
One morning I remember so well two men came to our door and asked if they could get some breakfast with us. They said they would gladly pay us for food. They were two prospectors and were going in the mountains to find gold. Mother told them they better not go, that it was very dangerous, to wait for better times. They said, “No. We are going. We are not afraid of Geronimo nor any of his band.” Three weeks later, a man came wandering in, his hat gone, his clothes torn and his boots all busted and worn. He said: One morning after we had located what we thought to be a good mine, I told my pardner I would go and hunt a deer while he cooked breakfast. I went and killed my deer and came around the point of the rock where I left my pardner. Oh, what a terrible sight. The Indians came up on him while he was bending over the fire and tortured him cruelly. The squaws were worse then the bucks. They tore him limb from limb. I was too horrified to move until they saw me. They gave a terrible scream and made for me. I dropped my deer and ran. I jumped from a ledge forty feet and rolled in a little cave. They danced and screamed and threw rocks, but I was safe but hurt and sore, and grief stricken over my pardner’s cruel death. I hid day times and at night I waded the stream of water until I reached here.” He was more dead than alive and it was days before he was well.

April 12, 1932 San Diego
I will dwell longer on my life in Pleasant. As I stated before, the men folks made their living by freighting ore from the Coney Mines to the rail road in Silver City forty five years ago. Now my brother Jacob found on one of his trips a little white angora kid goat and gave it to me and my little brother. I just got to loving that goat too well. It was very intelligent and easy to learn. When we played hide’n’go seek, he would play with us, hide behind a big barrel or anything big enough and as soon as we left the goal, (which was the chicken coup door) he would run and butt his head against the door. He would also get on a barrel and when the barrel would roll, he would stay on top no matter how fast it would roll. He would stay on the barrel taking fast steps backward. He would love to look in our big mirror and stick his head on one side and pump. My brother came from Silver City with a load of grain, drove up to the side of the house. The horses tore a sack of grain open and the pet ate too much. Next morning I found him dead and I was broken hearted. It was my first sorrow and I really suffered. I never had a pet before or since that I loved like I did him. I can find so much in life and be deliriously happy over things; beautiful scenery, music, flowers, a good book.
We moved from this little town in New Mexico in February 1887 to a very small town, Nutrioso Arizona in a two room house of our own. We had a hard struggle to live. I spent fifteen years of my life in this little town. Happy hours I spent in school and some said I took to books like a duck to water. I didn’t have to study hard to get my lessons and I loved every subject. My only drawback was my eyes. I could not see far and could not see things written on the blackboard and I was ashamed to tell the teacher. I needed glasses but no one knew it.
I was quite popular among the young folks and could have had many beaus, but I wanted an education and did not care for boy friends.
In 1890 I went with my sister Ella and her husband Warren Tenney to Flagstaff to find work. We found work in a saw mill at the foot of the San Francisco Peaks, the highest mountains in Arizona. My sister cooked for the mill hands; twenty-two men. She had three small children and we had too much work to do. I wasn’t quite thirteen and small for my age and not very strong. Alden Smith, a boy then sixteen years old, came to the boarding house looking for something to do. So Warren told him he could help wash dishes for his board until he got something better and we were kept very busy from four o’clock in the morning until ten or eleven at night. (Dear Alden. I haven’t seen him for many years. I loved him like a brother.)
My little nephew Angus, two years old, was subject to croup. One morning I went out to bring him in. I found him quite wet. It was in September and in the mountainous region it was very cold nights and mornings. I brought him in and changed his clothes, but in a short time he was very sick. I told sister to quit work and come and doctor him. She was so busy, twenty two men to cook dinner for and she hurried, but she didn’t realize how sick he was. I got a flannel with grease and turpentine and put it on his chest and put him in the cradle and covered him with warm blankets and I would not leave him one minute. He was suffering so; you could hear him in the other room breathing so hard. He would say “Wock me, Caro. I hote so.” Then he would say, “Is Papa coming Caro. I so sick.” I was crying all the time and doing what I could for him. I loved him so. He would look at me with his big blue eyes and beg me to help him. About half past seven I told sister to come help Angus. I thought he was dying. Just then Warren stopped in, took him in his arms and called Ella. They worked hard to save him, but it was too late. I was suffering agony. It seemed like I was dying, I loved him so. I heard him say “Aunt Caro”. He died, just choked to death at eight o’clock. We buried him under a big pine tree.
I couldn’t get over it. I would dream at night of carrying him around in his coffin. Sometimes he would cry out to me in my dreams. I could not eat nor sleep. So finally I took very sick. I would not let them get a doctor. They all prayed for me and worked over me and then took me to Woodruff on the train. The night we got to Woodruff I took suddenly worse. I wanted the Elders. They sent for Bishop Eddie Webb. He laid hands on me, administered to me and I was healed. They had sent a telegram to my mother that I was very ill and to meet them at Woodruff, Arizona. My brother and mother came as soon as they could. They traveled night and day to get there, but it took them nearly a week and when they passed the cemetery, they saw a newly dug grave. It was a grave dug for the daughter of Bishop Webb, a girl my age. Mother thought it was for me. She was grief stricken and had to be carried in. I was standing by the gate, but they knew me not, thinking I was dead and buried.

Dana Campbell, Carlsbad California, 2008
While living with her sister Inez Lee around 1895, she fell in love and was engaged to Ray Curtis. He died of pneumonia shortly before they were to be wed. I remember his picture kept ever at her bedside. It was several years later before she fell in love again and married Arza Peter Nicoll in 1898.
She had a strong need for land, and though babies came along at a frightening pace, and her husband worked as a miner, she set her ambitions on having a ranch. She acquired a milk cow, sold the milk and bought another cow until she had twelve and was providing milk for the whole town. She was able then to qualify for a section of land for ranching near Ramah, New Mexico. She was able to add to that another section of land.
In the 1920's several of her grown children moved to San Diego for jobs. She visited them there and fell in love with the warmer climate, the ocean, and the opportunities in this growing town. When she returned to Ramah, she packed her children in her son-in-law’s big black car and took off for the coast. The daughters and one son settled in San Diego somewhat permanently, while four sons returned to and settled around Ramah. Grandmother died in the home of her daughter, Sabina Hill, in Lakeside, San Diego County on June 27, 1959.

Introduction to the JacobHamblin.org website

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 01:20:47 GMT

Here are some thoughts about this website from our staff

This website has been established by the descendents of Jacob Hamblin for the purpose of organizing his family to tell the world of his accomplishments. There is no other historical account of the establishment of peace between Native American people and the early pioneer settlers to compare to the story of Jacob Hamblin.

During the Indian wars in Colorado nine federal forts were established for the protection of the pioneer settlers. In New Mexico another nine forts were established. In central and southern Arizona a total of 16 federal forts were built. In Utah the federal government did not become involved with the protection of the Mormon pioneer settlers. However, several forts were built in central and northern Utah.

Jacob Hamblin's influence began in the Santa Clara/St. George area of Southwestern Utah. His influence spread into southern Nevada and southeastern Utah. His influence began to spread into Northern Arizona by 1863 among the Navajo and Hopi people. By 1870 his influence reached into Arizona into the areas that are roughly north of present-day Interstate 40. This area of influence was the size of many of today's Western states. In this region there were no forts built to protect the pioneer settlers accept Fort Defiance which was no longer needed by 1868.

History books fail to explain the reason that peace was established with the Native American people in these regions 30 years before Geronimo's surrender in Southern Arizona. When the Native American people had grievances they had someone to talk to. Jacob learned their language and would go to their villages and listen to their concerns. He would then return to the pioneer settlers and explained the problem and change in behavior happened through peaceful negotiation. No armies were needed and peace was established. As a result this area that fell under Jacob Hamblin's influence is today the most heavily populated region by Native American people in the United States

The Jacob Hamblin Legacy Organization is seeking to identify all of Jacob Hamblin's descendents. We are seeking to raise funds through his descendents to build a Memorial in the heart of this land that was so greatly influenced by Jacob Hamblin. The memorial will be built in Kanab, Utah in a location where approximately two million tourists from around the world visit on a yearly basis. There will be two parts of the Memorial. A bronze sculpture will depict Jacob Hamblin with his interaction with a Native American. There will also be a map showing the tremendous impact that Jacob had on this region of America. A second priority for the organization is the production of a documentary film that will tell the story of his bravery, his devotion and his accomplishments.

We invite all of the members of Jacob Hamblin's family and interested friends to join us and help us tell the American success story of peace through love and respect rather than through war and bloodshed.

Wayne and Barbara Hamblin and of Norma Hamblin Kauffman

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 01:01:11 GMT

Contributed by Joan Hamblin, joanhamblin@sbcglobal.net

This photo was taken in 1983. It is of Barbara Hamblin and five of her seven children, including Charee and her husband Steve, Lynette and her husband Jim, Denise and husband Greg, and Marcene and husband Joe, and Bryan Hamblin. Missing are sons David and Mark and their spouses. The photo also has all of Norma Hamblin Kauffman's children: Don Kauffman, Bill Kauffman and his wife Connie, Tanya Kauffman Cannon, and Stan Kauffman and his wife Shirley.

Wayne, Stan, and Dorothy HamblinWayne, Stan, and Dorothy Hamblin

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:58:38 GMT

Contributed by Joan Hamblin, joanhamblin@sbcglobal.net

1983 photos are of William Stanton Hamblin, his son, Wayne Hamblin, and Wayne's mother-in-law Dorothy (forgot her last name... Charee)

Stan Hamblin and Siblings

jacobhamblin.org@gmail.com (Jacob Allred) — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:55:56 GMT

This was sent to us by some of the Hamblin Family

Thank you for everyone for contributing these family pictures. Here is a picture of Stan Hamblin and his brothers and sisters.

Reuniting our Hamblin Family

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:47:19 GMT

Written by Larry Burk in conjunction with the 2010 Jacob Hamblin Reunion in Kanab, UT

Reuniting our Hamblin Family

The Jacob Hamblin Memorial Committee has extended an invitation to each of us to attend a
Jacob Hamblin Family Reunion on June 17 – 19, 2010. The reunion will be in conjunction with Kanab’s Jacob Hamblin Days celebration. We hope you will take advantage of this opportunity to learn about our families’ great heritage and to participate in the kickoff to reunite the Jacob Hamblin Family. There will be a rodeo, picnics, swimming for kids, stories about Jacob and his missionary work, and of course lots of work establishing an organization to accomplish these goals and find all the members of our family. Check out the enclosed list of sites to visit that can be easily accessed from Kanab.

At the reunion, our goal is to establish representatives from various parts of the family to help update the family census so that each member of the family can be contacted to participate in these projects. We are just beginning the work of locating everyone, but at this point in time, some estimates suggest that there are over 50,000 descendants. There is much work to be done. Many segments of the family are already organized. We need representatives from these various segments to join us in the work of finding everyone.

We have been able to locate only one or two members of most family groups. Since you are reading this letter, you are one of the few we have found. We need your help to first contact your own family members, cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings etc. Then send us family lists at hamblinmemorial@gmail.com. We need names, addresses, telephone numbers and email addresses. Of course, this personal information will be kept confidential and will not be used for other purposes. Next, we hope you will make your plans now to come to the reunion in June and encourage all your family members to come also. Reunion Schedule: Meetings begin and registration is at the High School ¼ mile south of junction 89 and 89A. This agenda is not final and may be changed. Updated schedules will be available at registration.

Thursday, June 17
7:00pm Symposium – Jacob Hamblin

Friday, June 18
8:00am Trail ride – covering some of the trails Jacob rode
8:00am Motor tour of the Jacob Hamblin trail – Reservations required – Jeff Yates 435-616-2789
2:00pm Preparation meeting for volunteers – gymnasium
3:00pm Family History Meeting Jacob’s ancestors and descendants – auditorium
5:00pm BBQ Dinner - Kaneplex
7:00pm -Presentation of Antiquities and Journals also Hamblin author Hartt Wixom “The Role of
Jacob Hamblin with Maj. John Wesley Powell and the Grand Canyon.”
-Lucille Hunt will present “The Changing Navajo, and thoughts about
Jacob’s work with the Navajo people.

Saturday, June 19
8:00am Youth Equestrian Events - Kaneplex
9:00am Welcome to the Reunion and Challenge to the Family – auditorium
10:00am Family Organization Meeting – auditorium
12:30pm Picnic Lunch and Swimming at the Public Pool – Jacob Hamblin Park
3:00pm Work Meeting to find all the family – gymnasium
3:00pm Activities for youth
7:00pm Ranch Rodeo – Kaneplex

Jacob Hamblin Historical Sites

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:42:46 GMT

Provided as part of the 2010 Jacob Hamblin Reunion in Kanab, UT

Jacob Hamblin Historical Sites & things to see in the Kanab area

(*Miles from Kanab noted)

• Jacob Hamblin Home – Santa Clara Blvd and Hamblin Dr, Santa Clara, Utah (St. George)
-Phone number: 1-435-673-5181 (St George Temple Visitor’s Center)
-Schedule: 10am to 7pm April – Oct. *80 miles

• Lee’s Ferry – (On Hwy 89A between Bitter Springs and Jacob Lake, turn off at Marble
Canyon just across Navajo Bridge on the Colorado River) Lee’s Ferry, now a national
monument, is the crossing of the Colorado that Jacob located and used in his missionary travels.
The crossing became the site of the Ferry used by Honeymoon Trail Travelers to ford the
Colorado. There are well preserved rock homes in Lonely Dell used by John D Lee’s family.
*75 miles

• Pipe Springs National Monument – a sandstone fort built by early Mormon Pioneers to the
area, used as a layover for Jacob and others in their travels. Situated on hwy 389 between
Fredonia and Colorado City at the turnoff to Moccasin in Arizona. *21 miles

• Jacob’s Lake - a small lake named after Jacob found on the top of the Kaibab Mountains
where he camped many times. It is located between Fredonia AZ and the north rim of the Grand
Canyon on hwy 89A. Jacob Lake Inn is a fun place to stop for food, lodging, and to hang out
close to the actual lake. *40 miles

• House Rock Springs - a stopping place for water for early travelers headed from Kanab to
Lee’s Ferry. The small cove around the spring shows names of early travelers who stopped
there, including Jacob Hamblin, John Wesley Powell, John D Lee, and many others who were
called to settle Arizona, or travelers headed towards the St. George Temple carved their names
into the sandstone. Take the road north off from hwy 89A right at the eastern foot of the Kaibab
Mtns.For approximately 1 mile, where you turn right and go approximately one more mile to the
spring. (Look for markers) *approximately 50 miles

• Jacob’s Pools – go approximately 10 miles east of the House Rock Turnoff, and then turn
north to see springfed pools on land that once belonged to Jacob Hamblin. (approximately 2
miles past the gate at the highway) There is also one old dwellings, and some corrals. A small
hike up to the springs will also show some rock walls. (Look for markers) *approximately 60
miles

• North Rim of the Grand Canyon (National Park) – Hwy 89A (south) then hwy 67 at Jacob
Lake Inn. *78 miles

• Zion National Park – Hwy 89 (north) to Mt. Carmel Junction, and then Hwy 9 (left) to the
Park. *40 miles

• Bryce Canyon National Park – Hwy 89 (north). *77 miles

To Kickoff this Missionary Project

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:33:29 GMT

Originally written by Larry Burk as part of the 2010 Jacob Hamblin Reunion in Kanab, UT

JACOB WAS A MISSIONARY

NOW HOW DO WE GET INVOLVED TO “CARRY ON” HIS MISSION?

Before the reunion, we will need your help getting things organized.

Jacob with is four wives had 23 children that had posterity of their own. Our intent is to organize the family with 23 officers to represent segments of the family. Under these officers, other volunteers will be sought to assist in communicating and working with other smaller segments of the family. We’re seeking 23 individuals that feel in their hearts a devotion to do missionary work by building the legacy of Jacob Hamblin. Their responsibilities will be to help identify each individual in the family and to organize other volunteers that will work under their direction.

These 23 officers will have voting rights in the management of the nonprofit corporation. They will function as a Board of Directors to approve budgets and expenditures. They will be asked to serve an annual term as we complete the family census and solicit financial gifts from their segment of the family. Meetings and interactions will take place primarily over the Internet and by phone. We hope to identify as many of these people as possible before the reunion. If you would like to help, email Larry Burk at larryburk@hotmail.com .

At the work meeting, we will have 23 booths setup for the 23 families/children of Jacob Hamblin. We need people at these booths to take information on these 23 segments of the family to help gather contact information. We need volunteers identified and trained to man these booths. Training will be on Friday the 18th at 10:00 am. If you would like to help email Chris Udall at cludall.yahoo.com.

Any family members that have inherited items belonging to Jacob Hamblin are invited to bring those items to share the story associated with them at the Presentation of Antiquities meeting (7:00pm Fri). Others may share stories about Jacob Hamblin taken from contemporaries or his missionary companions or from Jacob’s journals. Those who wish to participate will need to be identified before the reunion. If you would like to participate email Carol Kimball at crkimball@netzero.com .

If you have information about family members, and how we might get in touch with them, please email Carolyn Grygla at hamblinmemorial@gmail.com .

If you are planning to come to the reunion, please RSVP at jacobhamblin.com. Click on “Hamblin Reunion,” and then RSVP.

For more information, visit www.jacobhamblin.com and click “reunion.”

Sincerely,

Larry Burk

Great Great Grandson

Jacob was a Missionary

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:27:48 GMT

Written by Larry Burk in connection with the 2010 Jacob Hamblin Reunion in Kanab, UT

JACOB WAS A MISSIONARY

NOW HOW DO WE GET INVOLVED TO “CARRY ON” HIS MISSION?

Before the reunion, we will need your help getting things organized.

Jacob with is four wives had 23 children that had posterity of their own. Our intent is to organize the family with 23 officers to represent segments of the family. Under these officers, other volunteers will be sought to assist in communicating and working with other smaller segments of the family. We’re seeking 23 individuals that feel in their hearts a devotion to do missionary work by building the legacy of Jacob Hamblin. Their responsibilities will be to help identify each individual in the family and to organize other volunteers that will work under their direction.

At the work meeting, we will have 23 booths setup for the 23 families/children of Jacob Hamblin. We need people at these booths to take information on these 23 segments of the family to help gather contact information. We need volunteers identified and trained to man these booths. Training will be on Friday the 18th at 10:00 am. If you would like to help email Chris Udall at cludall.yahoo.com.

Any family members that have inherited items belonging to Jacob Hamblin are invited to bring those items to share the story associated with them at the Presentation of Antiquities meeting (7:00pm Fri). Others may share stories about Jacob Hamblin taken from contemporaries or his missionary companions or from Jacob’s journals. Those who wish to participate will need to be identified before the reunion. If you would like to participate email Carol Kimball at crkimball@netzero.com .

If you have information about family members, and how we might get in touch with them, please email Carolyn Grygla at hamblinmemorial@gmail.com .

If you are planning to come to the reunion, please RSVP at jacobhamblin.com. Click on “Hamblin Reunion,” and then RSVP.

For more information, visit www.jacobhamblin.com and click “reunion.”

Sincerely,

Larry Burk

Great Great Grandson

"Carry On"

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 00:25:33 GMT

Message written by Larry Burk at the 2010 Jacob Hamblin Reunion in Kanab, UT

“CARRY ON”

THE MISSIONARY WORK AND LEGACY OF JACOB HAMBLIN

Dear Cousin, (Descendants of Jacob Hamblin)

I hope you have enjoyed learning about our ancestor Jacob as much as I have. I hope you have also read the book “Hamblin” written by Hartt Wixom; a Professor now retired from BYU. Although he is not a descendant, he looks at the magnificent accomplishments of our ancestor and suggests that due to prejudice and other circumstances in the 1800’s, Jacob was not recognized for what he accomplished, and our society is now not aware of his impact on our heritage. He suggests that it is an injustice that better-known figures from our history are famous for the massacre and killing of Native Americans, while Jacob did more than any other man of that era to bring peace and understanding between two very different cultures and people. Wixom has called upon us, his descendants, to correct the injustice.

Since reading that challenge from Hartt Wixom, I have felt in my heart a challenge that certainly seems to be coming from a different source. In spite of the modesty of Jacob Hamblin, I have felt him urging me to accept the challenge and let the whole world know what he accomplished. What I have felt is not an urging to honor Jacob Hamblin; he was much too modest to seek notoriety for himself. The urging is to follow his footsteps and to promote the gospel of Jesus Christ by telling the world what he did because of his devotion to the gospel that he loved . This challenge is to shoulder the responsibility to our heritage and carry on this work.

Jacob left us a great heritage. He made it possible for Maj. John Wesley Powell to explore the Grand Canyon. He also opened settlements in Southern Utah, Southern Nevada, Eastern New Mexico, Northern and Eastern Arizona, and the colonies in Mexico. Because of his uncommon bravery, he saved Kanab, Utah from massacre. The millions of people living in Southern California have been touched by his work, for he is the person that opened the road and made it safe for the early pioneers to travel there. He saved the lives of many immigrants from warring Native Americans. However, what was almost unheard of at the time, he also saved the lives of many Native Americans from warring and vengeful white people. He loved the Native American people and risked his life many times to establish peace and to help them improve their lives. He devoted his life to taming a wild and angry part of America during the 19th century by exemplifying the principles he believed and taught.

Dear cousin, we are now extending this challenge to you. Join with us to help us organize the tens of thousands of descendants of Jacob Hamblin to carry on his missionary legacy. The Jacob Hamblin Legacy Corporation, Inc. a non-profit corporation has been established to represent the family. Jacob loved the Lord and he was called to serve as a missionary. In our family, we often pray to have missionary experiences. We desire to share with you and all the members of our family (descendants of Jacob Hamblin) the opportunity to carry on his missionary work by participating in a family mission to tell the world about him and what motivated him to do such marvelous things.

The City of Kanab, Utah is working in conjunction with us. Together we will build a memorial, at a prominent location next to the Stake Center in downtown Kanab. There are more than two million tourists every year from all parts of the world that visit Kanab. Daily, hundreds of tourists congregate around the shops and restaurants of this prime location. The memorial will bring to life the accomplishments of Jacob Hamblin and his impact on this whole region. It too will show how he profoundly impacted the founding of not only Kanab but also the Saint George area, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Northern and Eastern Arizona, and Western New Mexico. Visitors to Lake Powell, Zion’s Park, the Grand Canyon and other tourist sites of the region will learn about Jacob’s role in blazing the trails that we enjoy vacationing today.

We want to produce a documentary film worthy to be broadcast on PBS and foreign networks. I can hardly wait to see a re-enactment of Jacob rejecting the plea from his Bishop and family who believed that going into Navajo country would spell certain death. These good Native American people believed Jacob had betrayed them. To prove his honesty and integrity he proceeded. He said, “I have to, I promised them.” Thus, he saved the settlement of Kanab and made peace with the great Navajo People. Cousins, to pursue these goals we need everyone’s help. We want every single living descendant of Jacob Hamblin, even little children, to have the privilege of someday driving through Kanab and being able to say, “I helped build that memorial of my g-g-g grandfather,” or “I helped make that film about my heritage.” We need your help to find all the members of our family so that everyone has an opportunity to help.

Larry Burk