Fred Gardiner, 1879 had to quit school at the age of 9 to help support the family by tending sheep on the open range of northern Utah and Southern Idaho. Fred was a homesteader, mill owner, sheep-herder, alfalfa, barley and wheat farmer and cow milker. One time a neighbor saw his team and plough standing in the field alone at midday. Concerned, he investigated only to find Fred in the house sawing away on his violin. He was an employee of the Utah Light and Railway Company, school custodian and loved Black Pine, a mountainous area east of Malta where he hunted deer and elk, fished, trapped, panned for minerals, searched for ore, cut lumber and Christmas trees and enjoyed exploring. Fred was known for his gentle nature, love of the scriptures, talent at the violin, telling stories and impeccable handwriting. He died at 82 from a heart attack.
My Grandparents-Fred and Hope Gardiner
Kent: Much of my early life revolved around my father's love for his parents. Each summer dad checked the oil in the car, filled the gas tank, and piled us into the green 1954 Ford Station wagon and headed toward Malta, Idaho. In the early years there was no I-15 so he took highway 91 Highway most of the way. It was a long boring ride and we often asked, "Are we were there yet?" "Don't ask!" came the reply from the front seat. One time on a stretch of the Mojave Desert my dad got fed up with me bothering my brother's and sisters and pulled the car over and demanded I get out and walk. "The exercise will do you good." He was right. I walked for quite a while and along the way I found a pocket knife with a grey and white pearl handle of which I was very proud of.
"Fred had amazing strength, he could hold two fifty pounds bags of wheat straight out on either side of his body. One time after Fred got back active into the church he went down to a bar and grill to talk to someone on business. The guys in there were rude. They said some derogatory things about those Mormons. He picked up the loudest of the group and physically put him on the floor. A year later the same guy got drunk on the 4th of July and said that he and Fred would take on the entire town. The Bishop in Malta for many years, Henry Thompson, said Fred was the strongest man he ever knew.
"Sometime in the 30's, in a different location Dad was walking a mile and a half to church. A non-LDS man gave him a lift. "Now Fred, if God wanted you to go to church, he would have provided a way." Dad said, “He did."" James Gardiner May, 2004
Kent: Much of my early life revolved around my father's love for his parents. Each summer dad checked the oil in the car, filled the gas tank, and piled us into the green 1954 Ford Station wagon and headed toward Malta, Idaho. In the early years there was no I-15 so he took highway 91 Highway most of the way. It was a long boring ride and we often asked, "Are we were there yet?" "Don't ask!" came the reply from the front seat. One time on a stretch of the Mojave Desert my dad got fed up with me bothering my brother's and sisters and pulled the car over and demanded I get out and walk. "The exercise will do you good." He was right. I walked for quite a while and along the way I found a pocket knife with a grey and white pearl handle of which I was very proud of.
We all yelled our approval when dad finally pulled into the dirt parking area in front of the Malta home. Grandma and Grandpa greeted us with hugs and smiles. During out visit we usually slept in the loft above the five small rooms that made up the downstairs. Upstairs included a view of the stream and cows grazing in the distance as well as books, beds and comforters to keep us warm and cozy. When the weather was balmy we slept outdoors next to the gurgling stream, called Cassia Creek, which ran through their property. Before we went to sleep we gathered with our cousins and had an old-fashioned bond-fire with hot dogs. In the glow of the embers we watched in amazement as Grandpa pulled out his pocket knife, told stories, and cut willow reeds which he fashioned into whistles. Our eyes widened as we watched a plant transform into a toy. I still remember the sound of the stream and the wind blowing through the trees as we settled in for the night.
In the morning my sisters followed Grandma out to the chicken coop to feed the chickens and gather eggs. Chickens are not the smartest animals but Grandma knew how to round them up an get them back into the safety of the cage. She took the eggs, flour, salt, yeast and a bit of honey and made fluffy white rolls and white bread. The finishing touch was homemade peach jam. The fruity smell was intoxicating. The jam and bottled fruit were stored in the pump room under the house where it was cool and damp. Sometimes Grandma cooked up chicken, vegetables and potatoes. Our mouths watered as the chicken spat and sizzled in the skillet.
The next day we eagerly followed Grandpa out to the open field to round up the cows. His dog did most of the work. A whistle from Grandpa and the dog nipped at the cow's heels, heading them back to his ramshackle shed. He cleaned each teat and clamped on the milker. Soon the rich creamy milk flowed. Afterwards Grandpa shouted at the cow to move out, rapping her across the backside which encouraged her to go back to the field. The highlight of the day was watching Grandpa heft the milk cans into the back of his pickup and drive the 3 miles to town to sell the milk to the Whey Company with the big red sign. Sitting next to Grandpa as the pick-up bounced across the rutted dirt roadway with the cans banging around in the back was an adventure. On the way out of the parking area the pickup lurched and jumped. We bounced around but we weren't worried; Grandpa was driving. We hit the smooth oiled road with the sound of the pickup tires on fresh asphalt.
My
favorite part of the trip was staying up with my aunts and uncles and
listening to Grandpa tell stories. One night after all my siblings were
in bed Grandpa gathered us around. He leaned forward in his blue
overstuffed chair and told us that many years ago he had been praying about the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.
He decided to go to General Conference in the Salt Lake City
Tabernacle. Grandpa sat with his brother Charles downstairs toward the
back. Apostle Anthony W. Ivans was speaking about the Book of Mormon and suddenly there appeared two beings on either side of the pulpit, standing in the air dressed
in Nephite clothing. Grandpa turned to his brother and said, "Do you
see that?" When he turned back the vision was gone. Grandpa looked
directly at me and said, "Kent what I have told you is true, remember
it." Note: Apostle Anthony W. Ivans spoke about the Book of Mormon in the April 1929 conference.
I don't think Grandpa ever threw anything away. It might come in useful someday. Once a tractor or a mowing machine no longer worked it sat in the yard beckoning to us to climb up and pull or twist the black knobs or see how far we could turn the tattered black steering wheel. Sometimes our cousins came over and we played on the farm equipment together. After dinner Mary and Gloria were very popular with us. We played Pit and Gin Rummy late into the night. Our laughter ran all around the room filling the house with a warm glow.
Grandpa passed away suddenly on the morning of 26 December 1960, just three months prior to his eighty-second birthday and four months after my mother, Elaine Scholl, died of cancer. Fred had myocarditis which is inflammation of the heart muscle. That led to his heart attack. The family knew years before that his ticker had problems. A while before he died the doctor told a family member that Aunt Dawn should come home from her mission if she wanted to see her Dad before he died, but he lived a few more years. He never made much fuss about his condition. He used to take a teaspoonful of sulfur (his own remedy) for his health. It was a sad time all the way around. For years afterwards I asked people what Grandpa was like:
Frank Gardiner, (Fred's son): The Hitt boys were inactive non-believing Mormons in Malta. One day they said they were going to throw Fred into the creek. "Come on, I'm ready!" said Dad, but they decided against the idea. Dad was great at handling horses although he could be a little rough on them. Every year the Hitts hired him to handle the horses which pull the machine that cuts off the wheat heads. Dad said "You can drive these horses yourself, you don't need me." The Hitt boys said, "No we like the way you do it." I think the Hitts actually had a soft spot for Fred. They enjoyed his company.
A
friend of Fred's named Bob Thompson (Taught school in Burley, Bishop
Henry Thompson's son) from Malta tells this story: "Fred Gardiner was
called as a Ward Teacher to the Hitts, first he would go to Jim Hitt and
then over to John Hitt. When John was on his death bed Jim was there
and here comes the home teacher. So Fred was standing there and John
says to Jim. "If there is anything to what Fred has been telling us
about this life after death I'll come back and let you know, Goodbye,"
and he died.
James Gardiner: "In 1926 Dad was ordained a High Priest by Elder Orson F. Whitney, and was soon sustained as a member of the Raft River Stake High Council. During the time we lived in the Malta Ward, Fred served as ward clerk from 1933 to 1938 while Orson S. Sanders was Bishop, and as secretary of the Malta Ward High Priest Group. He had beautiful handwriting. He got so good that he was in demand as a secretary in the church. For many years he was secretary to the High Priests Quorum. He often practiced at the table in the front room after he was done with the chores of the day. He taught classes in Sunday School, Priesthood, and M.I.A; and was a Ward Teacher for many years. At the time of his death, he was first assistant to William Barrett in the High Priest Group. He was very faithful in his Church duties and active in the positions he held. He encouraged the family to be regular in attendance for Church activities. In his earlier years he studied books in the evenings but later it was just the scriptures. His scriptures were well worn from use and marked from study. Whenever he came in the house after working in the field at lunch and dinnertime he sat at the dinner table and ate with the scriptures propped open.
"Fred
had a natural talent in music and enjoyed playing the violin, although
he never had the opportunity to take many music lessons. While he lived
at Meadow Creek, he often played for the dances at the schoolhouse, and
was asked to play for dances at Malta. Flossie Smith usually
accompanied him on the piano at Malta. One
time a neighbor saw his team and plow standing in the field alone at
midday. Concerned, he investigated only to find Fred in the house
sawing away on his violin.
"Fred had amazing strength, he could hold two fifty pounds bags of wheat straight out on either side of his body. One time after Fred got back active into the church he went down to a bar and grill to talk to someone on business. The guys in there were rude. They said some derogatory things about those Mormons. He picked up the loudest of the group and physically put him on the floor. A year later the same guy got drunk on the 4th of July and said that he and Fred would take on the entire town. The Bishop in Malta for many years, Henry Thompson, said Fred was the strongest man he ever knew.
"Roadside
repair, miles from any town or service station was a way of life. On
many trips I helped my dad make an emergency repair to a knocking
engine. We would drain the oil, (save it of course) drop the engine oil
pan, take a few shims from a loose piston connecting rod bearing, check
for bearing play, restore the pan and oil and we were on our way. One
day coming home from Burley, Idaho, which was more than a forty-mile
trip, my dad's Model T quit and he could not get it going again. So he
decided to walk the remaining twenty-five miles home. After several
hours of trudging, he was surprised when another Model T. stopped beside
him, in a cloud of dust.
"Well, Fred, do you want a lift?"
"No thanks. I have walked 20 miles and I will finish the trip myself."
"Well, Fred, do you want a lift?"
"No thanks. I have walked 20 miles and I will finish the trip myself."
"Sometime in the 30's, in a different location Dad was walking a mile and a half to church. A non-LDS man gave him a lift. "Now Fred, if God wanted you to go to church, he would have provided a way." Dad said, “He did."" James Gardiner May, 2004
Corby:
"My dad (Golden Gardiner) said Fred was good with animals. They once
had a dog and Grandpa was a sheep herder and sheep herders don't like
coyotes. One of his dogs got into some poison used to kill coyotes. It
was strychnine. The dog was convulsing and foaming at the mouth. He
administered Epsom salts and saved the dogs life.
"Everything
I ever heard about my grandparents was positive. I was in a PE class
one day and my PE instructor was Kay Harper. Out of the blue he started
telling the whole class what a great Sunday School teacher Grandpa was.
He was funny and had a great sense of humor and he was a great story
teller. I remember sitting in the bleachers listening to this. Kay was
the same age as Frank. My sister (Cathy Gardiner) died a few years ago
and Bishop J. Cottle who was in the Malta First Ward for several years
spoke at my sister's funeral and he paid a beautiful tribute to Hope and
Fred. He talked about what wonderful children they raised, and that
they were excellent parents; of course I knew that first hand knowing my
Dad and Hope. It was a beautiful tribute." Corby Gardiner
Kent: Hope
was an amazing grandmother. The summer after I got married in 1975,
Suzanne and I took a trip to Malta so I could introduce Suzanne to Hope.
Grandma gave up her bed so the two of us could sleep together. This was
the same bed she and Grandpa had slept in for 40 years. We knew because
the bed-springs creaked and rattled when we moved in the bed. Grandma
wanted to please us and made white rolls and a peach pie. Suzanne loved talking to Hope. They talked for hours.
From
1960 to 1981 Hope wrote at least 396 letters to her son James Gardiner
and his children. She took an interest in everything we did including
how we did in school, recreation, and church activity. Here are a few
examples of what she wrote:
1963 Jan 7,
Thanks again for all you did to make our Christmas so wonderful. We
did have a lovely Christmas although we likely all were thinking the
same thoughts of what happened three years ago to be a lasting sad
memory. Yet so many things remind me of Dad that I never feel that he
is very far away and I often dream of seeing him. Grandma Gardiner
1964 May 1, James must be pretty big now. Would like to see him and all of you. I’ll bet Janice is a big girl now and helps
take care of Julie. Am happy that all
the children are doing so well at schoolwork.
It really pays to do our best each day in school to prepare us for the
work we have to do or the jobs we will want to get when we are ready to look
for jobs. They all have what it takes if
they will make use of their talents. Grandma Gardiner
1964 July 20, Dear Mark, A very happy birthday and many happy returns of
the day. Wish we could have a birthday
dinner all together but I am sure Mommy Carol will do a fine job like she
always does. I enjoyed the food so much while I was there and was sorry I
couldn’t have done better for you folks while you were here. Have you forgiven me yet for pushing you in
the creek: that was a mean trick wasn’t it?
But I know how much you like water and just wanted a little help to get
in. Grandma Gardiner
1965 August 18, We are fine here.
Mark and Frank are out working on the grain. Durward Hall is doing the cutting now. The old machine seemed too slow for
Frank. Mark is right on the job all the
time. He says he wants to stay until the
end of August. He is surely a good boy
to get along with. Kent was too. He knows what it takes to get along with
Frank too. Your family is very good
about looking on the best side of things.
If any one said things to Frank that he says to others he would be upset
but he thinks folks ought to take his guff and like it. He wouldn't like me to
say this either. Grandma Gardiner
1965 September 2, Congratulations Kent on being ordained an Elder and getting
your call for a mission. I am sure you
will be a very good missionary. Our
prayers will be in your behalf and am sure you will put your trust in the Lord
to help you in the great work that is before you. Grandma Gardiner
1973 October 25, Halloween The widows (most of them) meet at Edwin Paskett’s home each
Monday evening for a Home Evening lesson. He gives a very good lesson and I enjoy
it. But going out in the evening doesn’t
suit me too well. I dread coming back to
the lonely house. Myrtle Hutchinson
usually goes and takes me to the meeting.
She then has to go home alone to her lonely house. Grandma Gardiner
Kent: In
her later years Hope worked on family history and was an avid
journalist and genealogist. During the last 4 years of her life she
suffered from blindness which was a sore trial. Hope lived to be 94 and is buried in the Malta Valley Vu Cemetery. Hope: "There have been many years without Fred, but what a blessing my family
has been to me. All have been kind and considerate, and what a
satisfaction it is to see them all living good, honorable lives."
To see the Malta home on Google Maps, go to "1700 Idaho Hwy 81"
Many more of Hope's digitized letters: https://gatheringgardiners.blogspot.com/2013/07/hope-hulet-gardiners-letters-to-james.html
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| Fred, Hope 1954 |
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| Fred Janice, Mark, Kent, 1954 |
Video below: Fred owned a sawmill in the early 1900's when he lived in Meadow Creek, ID. Correction: Frank meant his father not his grandfather.
1. Fred by Kent Gardiner
2. Barbara Gardiner, daughter-in-law
3. Fred GardinerTimeline
4. Extra Notes on Fred Gardiner
5. Robert Hulet Gardiner, son
October 20. 1903 Ogden Sandard:
May 15, 1906, Salt Lake Herald:
Sawmill:
There is a book at the Idaho State Historical Library that I was thumbing through earlier this year that includes some interviews from some old-timers. I just read some small parts of it, but I think that they talked about more than one sawmill on Black Pine. If I get a chance to stop by the court house in Burley, I will check the land records to see if they mention Grandpa's sawmill. Once I can determine its location, I will check the book at the historical library to see if it is mentioned. I know the book didn't refer to any of the sawmills as Fred Gardiner's sawmill, but they would likely refer to his successor.
Here is what I have found out so far. Sometime around 1912, Henry Wight bought a sawmill in Pole Canyon on Black Pine from a man by the name of George Ransom. Mr. Ransom apparently didn't have time to use it. According to the Hewitt Wight History, "Soon after arriving here, Henry found out that one of the settlers here, George Ransom, had a sawmill in Pole Canyon, but didn't have time to use it. He sold it to Henry, just what he liked to do! There was a one room house that went with the mill so they lived in it when working in the canyon." Henry Wight was from Oregon and had worked in a sawmill there. It appears that they "fixed up [the sawmill] so handy that soon they were able to saw lumber for others so they could build their shacks, and this was really a great help here. People came from as far away as Snowville and Sublett for lumber." Blaine Wight states, "We later moved the mill over on the ranch. After Dad moved to Brigham, he would come out and we would saw lumber. We could sell the lumber we didn't use for $25.00 a thousand feet. Dad was always happy when he could run the old mill. He taught me how to run it and I sawed all of the lumber for our first home."
So to date I have documented that there was a sawmill on Black Pine as early as 1912. Henry Wight bought it from George Ransom in approximately 1912. The sawmill was later moved to Wight's ranch. Blaine Wight went to the Malta Ward when I was growing up and some of his children still live in the area. I am too busy right now, but it would be easy enough to find out from Blaine Wight's descendants where the old sawmill is located, take pictures of it, etc. I doubt if it has totally rusted away.
Unfortunately, I have not yet connected Grandpa to the sawmill in Pole Canyon. Nevertheless, Grandpa certainly could have sold the sawmill to Mr. Ransom. Grandpa moved to Meadow Creek in 1910. He would have needed lumber to build a cabin. So he might have bought the sawmill in Pole Canyon or perhaps he built it. I don't know if he had that kind of knowledge, but he was very mechanically minded. Also, the fact that he filed on a Timber and Stone Act entry in 1907 demonstrates to me that he was interested in making lumber. Perhaps between 1907 and 1910 he got some experience in working in a sawmill. I plan on continuing the search for Mr. Ransom's predecessor in interest.
Note: One story I remember my dad telling is about the time Grandpa rode a mule (I don't think it was a horse) that supposedly couldn't be rode. Another story was when Grandpa was living at Meadow Creek. It seems that he had a neighbor whose firewood kept disappearing from his wood pile. So the neighbor hollowed out a stick of firewood and filled it with gun powder. A few days later it was reported that someone's stove had blown up. N.
Deacon:
The records of the Salt Lake City 14th Ward indicate that Frederick Gardiner was ordained a deacon by Ed Schoenfeld in 1893.
Here is what I have found out so far. Sometime around 1912, Henry Wight bought a sawmill in Pole Canyon on Black Pine from a man by the name of George Ransom. Mr. Ransom apparently didn't have time to use it. According to the Hewitt Wight History, "Soon after arriving here, Henry found out that one of the settlers here, George Ransom, had a sawmill in Pole Canyon, but didn't have time to use it. He sold it to Henry, just what he liked to do! There was a one room house that went with the mill so they lived in it when working in the canyon." Henry Wight was from Oregon and had worked in a sawmill there. It appears that they "fixed up [the sawmill] so handy that soon they were able to saw lumber for others so they could build their shacks, and this was really a great help here. People came from as far away as Snowville and Sublett for lumber." Blaine Wight states, "We later moved the mill over on the ranch. After Dad moved to Brigham, he would come out and we would saw lumber. We could sell the lumber we didn't use for $25.00 a thousand feet. Dad was always happy when he could run the old mill. He taught me how to run it and I sawed all of the lumber for our first home."
So to date I have documented that there was a sawmill on Black Pine as early as 1912. Henry Wight bought it from George Ransom in approximately 1912. The sawmill was later moved to Wight's ranch. Blaine Wight went to the Malta Ward when I was growing up and some of his children still live in the area. I am too busy right now, but it would be easy enough to find out from Blaine Wight's descendants where the old sawmill is located, take pictures of it, etc. I doubt if it has totally rusted away.
Unfortunately, I have not yet connected Grandpa to the sawmill in Pole Canyon. Nevertheless, Grandpa certainly could have sold the sawmill to Mr. Ransom. Grandpa moved to Meadow Creek in 1910. He would have needed lumber to build a cabin. So he might have bought the sawmill in Pole Canyon or perhaps he built it. I don't know if he had that kind of knowledge, but he was very mechanically minded. Also, the fact that he filed on a Timber and Stone Act entry in 1907 demonstrates to me that he was interested in making lumber. Perhaps between 1907 and 1910 he got some experience in working in a sawmill. I plan on continuing the search for Mr. Ransom's predecessor in interest.
Note: One story I remember my dad telling is about the time Grandpa rode a mule (I don't think it was a horse) that supposedly couldn't be rode. Another story was when Grandpa was living at Meadow Creek. It seems that he had a neighbor whose firewood kept disappearing from his wood pile. So the neighbor hollowed out a stick of firewood and filled it with gun powder. A few days later it was reported that someone's stove had blown up. N.
Deacon:
The records of the Salt Lake City 14th Ward indicate that Frederick Gardiner was ordained a deacon by Ed Schoenfeld in 1893.
Dear Family,
Some weeks ago, Brent Gardiner asked for some of my father's
stories to include in a school assignment. I have added a bit to
the stories I sent Brent and I hope they will entertain and enlighten.
As a young man, Fred Gardiner spent a lot of summers in the
mountains of northern Utah herding sheep. On one occasion, the choke
cherries were ripe and Dad liked them. He found a tree, heavy with fruit
and proceeded to fill a bucket. He heard some muffled noises from the
other side of the tree and investigated. He was confronted by
a huge grizzly bear. Dad dropped the bucket and departed in haste.
When he dared, he glanced back to see if the bear was gaining on him. The bear
was streaking in the opposite direction.
When Jeffrey and I made a 70 mile hike around Raft River
Valley (the home of my youth), we had completed the trip on foot and were
waiting for the family car to take us home. It was about 10 AM on a
clear, fresh, lovely day. As we waited beside the road, one of the older
natives of the valley, stopped to investigate a man and a teen-age boy sitting
alone 10 miles from habitation. I told
him I was one of Fred Gardiner's boys and Jeff was a grandson to Fred.
That was enough to trigger a memory. He told of passing by Fred's
homestead, when Fred was still single and just getting a start on improving the
property. Fred lived a long way from any neighbor. This man noticed
a team of horses hooked to a plow and just standing alone in a partly plowed
field. He said to himself, “I wonder if Fred is in trouble?" He proceeded to Fred's cabin and was
astonished to hear music coming forth. Fred was giving the horses a break
and was playing his violin.
Roadside repair, miles from any town or service station was
a way of life. On many trips I helped my
Dad make an emergency repair to a knocking engine. We would drain the
oil, (save it of course) drop the engine oil pan, take a few shims from a
loose piston connecting rod bearing, check for bearing play, restore
the pan and oil and we were on our way.
Coming home from Burley, Idaho, more than a 40 Mile
trip, my Dad's Model T quit and he could not get it going again. So
he decided to walk the remaining 25 mile home. After several hours of
trudging, he was surprised when another Model T stopped beside him,
in a cloud of dust.
"Well, Fred, do you want a lift?"
"No thanks. I have walked 20 miles and I will
finish the trip myself."
Sometime in the 30's, now in different
location: Dad was walking the mile and a half to church. A non-LDS
man gave him a lift. "Now Fred, if God wanted you to go to church, He
would have provided a way." Dad
said, “He did."
I estimate that about 1910, my father was hired as foreman
of the big spread called the Keogh
Ranch. He had a variety of roughnecks working for him. One of his
favorite stories was of a cocky young bronco-buster who prided himself in his
skill at staying on anything that bucked. Dad gave him a spirited young
mustang to tame. The young man got set on the horse and then the helpers
let the horse free to do his best. The young bronco rider soon found he
had more than he anticipated but was ready to do or die. In a
skillful and violent maneuver the horse tossed the rider into an irrigation
ditch which happened to be full of water. Sputtering and swearing the
bronco buster climbed out of the ditch, clenched his fist and shook it at the
sky and shouted, "Come down and fight."
My father liked to tell about the time he lost his
hearing. He was yet a young man, not ready for any hearing
problem. He had been herding sheep during the summer and fall and when
his duties were completed, he decided he must go to a doctor in Salt Lake City
to determine if anything could be done to help his failing hearing. With
some difficulty he communicated with the doctor's nurse. She said she
would have a look. She proceeded to look and probe. Suddenly my father said he heard the
streetcars outside - clearly - and then after a look and probe into the other
ear, he was astounded - he could hear ! Both
ears gave up a collection of wool and wax.
(Earache prevention!)
Love, Grandpa G (James Hulet Gardiner)
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| Fred and Pud, 1920s |
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| 1949 LtR Fred Gardiner, Frank Gardiner leaving the Malta Wardhouse |
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| Fred about 1952 |
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| Fred and Hope, 1954 |
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| Fred, Hope, Mark and Kent, 1954 |
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| Fred w dog and grandchildren, 1954 |
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| Fred and Cathy, 1954 |
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| Fred, Golden, Barbara and Cathy, 1954 |
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| Fred w children and grandchildren, 1957 |
Thanks for the picture. I am told that this photo is part of a larger group photo that was taken in about 1952 at Rupert, Idaho. I haven't seen the group photo, but apparently Frank was in it as well. N
2010 Fred from K on Vimeo.
How would Fred Gardiner feel about his ggc doing this?
Gardiner on Violin from K on Vimeo.
Here is a news clipping of the ward house in Malta where Fred and Hope went to church for many years:
Special video presentation: My Father by Mary Gardiner, read by Kent
1940 census:
Fred did receive income of $50 or more in other than wages or salary (typical for a farmer).
Malta Idaho in southern Idaho:
Malta is a city in Cassia, Idaho, United States. The population was 177 in the 2000 census. It is part of the Burley Metro. Area.
HISTORY OF FREDERICK GARDINER
By Hope Hulet Gardiner
Frederick Gardiner was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, on 26 March 1879 in the Fourteenth Ward in Salt Lake City, Utah. His parents, Robert Gardiner and Margaret Stewart Gardiner, joined the Church in Scotland and immigrated to Utah in 1868.
(They sailed from Liverpool on 20 June 1868 on the clipper ship Emerald Isle, one of the last sailing ships to carry the Mormon immigrants. Robert and Margaret were married on the ship before it sailed. On 11 August they arrived at New York harbor. On 17 August they began their trip across the country by railway to Benton, 700 miles west of Omaha and 500 miles east of Salt Lake City. Church teams met the emigrants there, and the remainder of the journey was by ox team or mule team. There is more information about the Emerald Isle on the CD Mormon Immigration Index and in the book Saints on the Seas by Conway B. Sonne.
They arrived in New York on August 11. On August 17 they began the journey west by train and arriving in Benton, Nebraska, seven hundred miles west of Omaha on August 17. From there they traveled by ox and mule teams to Salt Lake Valley.
The transcontinental railroad was being completed at this time, and Robert Gardiner found employment with them to help pay for expenses, so he and Margaret arrived in Salt Lake later than most of the rest of their company.)
He had learned the trade of baker and confectioner in his homeland, and brought his candy making equipment with him from Scotland, and carried it on his back from one camping place to another along the journey across the plains. He was the first candy maker in Salt Lake City, but later sold his business to others.
The family first lived in the Twentieth Ward, but lived in the Fourteenth Ward when Fred was born and until he had attended school for a few years, then moved into the Brighton Ward, and later moved back to the Fourteenth Ward, and finally to the Eleventh Ward.
After finishing grade school, he worked for several years for a sheep owner. He then returned to Salt Lake and attended the L.D.S. Business College for a time, then went to work in a bank for awhile. He found office work wasn’t fascinating to him, so he went to work at the Street Railway shops and repaired the electric cars. Then he worked for a while for the railroad.
All this time he had a longing to get out in the wide open spaces, so went to work for livestock owners, and finally came to Idaho to work for Keogh Brothers on the land near Malta, now called the Keogh Ranch. He worked as a foreman for them until he bought some sheep and land of his own.
The summer of 1919 I went to Meadow Creek, Idaho, to teach summer school for the few families who lived in that area. It was at his home ranch that I boarded with a family by the name of Welch. Mrs. Welch’s mother and sister lived there with them. Fred was away with his sheep most of the time, so I didn’t see him many times that summer, but we became good friends, and our friendship grew because we were the only L.D.S. member in that area except the small branch several miles away at Sublett. By spring we had set the date to be married for 2 June 1920. Fred was ordained an Elder by his brother, Clarence, who was then a bishop in one of the Salt Lake City wards.
In 1926 he was ordained a High Priest by Elder Orson F. Whitney, and was soon sustained as a member of the Raft River Stake High Council.
During the time we have lived the Malta Ward he served as ward clerk from 1933 to 1938 while Orson S. Sanders was bishop, and as secretary of the Malta Ward High Priest Group. He taught classes in Sunday School, Priesthood, and M.I.A; and was a Ward Teacher for many years. At the time of his death, he was first assistant to William Barrett in the High Priest Group. He was very faithful in his Church duties and active in the positions he held. He encouraged the family to be regular in attendance for Church activities. He loved to read and study the Scriptures, and was very well versed. Whenever he came in the house he had a book in his hands to study.
Bob on Frederick's home teaching:
HISTORY OF FREDERICK GARDINER
By his brother, Clarence L. Gardiner
Frederick Gardiner, the subject of this brief sketch, was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, 26 March 1879; the son of Robert and Margaret Stewart Gardiner, who emigrated from Dundee, Scotland, leaving Liverpool on a sailing vessel 20 June 1868 and arriving in Salt Lake City in the late fall of that year.
Robert Gardiner, having perfected himself in the craft of confectioner and baker, began his early life in the valley, at the age of twenty three, by establishing himself in his chosen profession. The first home was at about 5th Avenue and F Street, and later moving into the center of the city, he built a home and candy factory adjoining, and in the rear of the store then known as S. P. Teasdel’s, quite an emporium of those early days. The location of the home and factory was directly back of what is now known as the Kearns Building (136 South Main). It was in the home at this location that Frederick was born, the fifth child in what later grew to ten members---five boys and five girls. Sometime about 1883, the family moved to a farm west of the city at about 2500 West and 3rd South. There were, of course, no regularly surveyed streets or numbers at that early date. However, there was a regularly organized and active Church unit, comprising “all those members living on the west side of the Jordan River,” known as the Brighton Ward.
Fred, as he was always known by his associates, was early enrolled in the somewhat primitive Elementary School, where classes were all held in one room with one teacher, and the instruction confined to about the third grade. However, the teachers were dedicated to their profession, and gave freely of their own learning in a variety of fields of practical knowledge and besides, which was of inestimable value to the students, instilled in them an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a determination to devote their lives to the pursuit of those higher branches of science which lay in the vast and unexplored regions of Eternal Truth. It was not an uncommon procedure, at the opening of classwork, for the teacher to “address himself to the Throne of Grace,” and implore the favor and blessing of the Lord upon their humble efforts to impress the boys and girls with the desire to make the acquisition of Truth the dominating concern of their future lives. The more or less elementary beginnings in learning the value of the “Three R’s” were to be considered but the first stepping stones in their adventure into that illimitable field of universal knowledge, the exploration of which should end only when their life’s journey should terminate.
The social life of the rural community was centered principally in the “Meeting House,” where the members came from far and wide to enjoy their religious and social gatherings; where young and old met together to participate in their religious and recreational activities with a frank and free interchange of genuine good-will that seemed to carry over into their daily lives, and give them an optimistic outlook on the future. Deep and lasting were the friendships formed, the affections awakened, in this congenial atmosphere.
The young people spent their artless days in whatever form of activity they could create, and when not engaged at chores around the farm, or bringing in hay from the field, played games and participated in such other forms of amusements as were common among the boys and girls of the community. In the winter the canals and lakes were frozen over, and the lucky boy who had a pair of skates could skim for miles over the surface of the ice. Among the most amusing activities of those early days were the dances held in the Meeting House, by the older members. We younger children were often taken there by our parents or older brothers and sisters. Blankets and robes were taken along for the youngsters to sleep on, if too tired or drowsy to follow the dancers as they performed the intricate and more or less graceful measures of the Virginia Reel, the Plain Quadrille, the Paul Jones, and the other dance music of that time; the music being accented by the heavy tapping of the foot of Joe Schoenfeld, the one-piece orchestra, who “fiddled” until the wee, small hours of the morning. He was usually seated on a chair atop a table which stood on the elevated part of the podium, and this exalted him in the sight of the throng to a point almost as high as he felt in the “inner man.” As the opening strains of “Old Dan Tucker,” or some other of the familiar tunes of the day, floated out over the animated scene, the “caller” proclaimed in stentorian voice the measures of the dance. The thrill awakened as the sturdy farmer boys escorted their partners onto the floor, and the rhythm of the movement filled the room, will live while memory lasts! Such were the “short and simple annals” of the rural populace of Brighton Ward during the boyhood days of Fred Gardiner.
The regular schooling of Fred in his early boyhood may be said to have ended when these early “grades” were completed, as the fortunes of the family became involved in the disturbed economic conditions of the country which assumed serious proportions in the early 1890’s, when a great depression caused widespread suffering and loss of property throughout the United States, and was particularly severe in Utah. The farm proved unproductive, and Robert Gardiner became involved in financial difficulties. Some of the near neighbors of Fred were “sheepmen” owning large herds, which were taken during the summer months to the mountains and valleys on the upper Bear River, and wintered in and about Skull Valley in the western part of the State. Two of these neighbors, Henry Sutton and James W. Marsh, were engaged in this enterprise, and at an early age, Fred was engaged as a herder and camp-tender in their employ, and in his earlier years spent many months on the “sheep range.” He also engaged in the same activity with Bishop James Wrathall of Grantsville, and was held in high esteem by those keen and careful sheepmen, because of his intimate understanding of the characteristics of the flocks entrusted to his keeping. His associates on the range had him in great esteem because of his rather profound ability, carefully planning the movements of the sheep to the best advantage. The interests of his employers were always uppermost in his mind, and he treated their property, both of livestock and camp equipage, with the feeling that it was a sacred trust imposed on him, and that it had to be fulfilled with the best ability he had.
About the year 1893, the family moved from the farm into the city, locating in the Fourteenth Ward, but Fred continued for some years following his vocation with the sheep. About 1900, deciding to spend more time at home, he was enrolled for two winters in the L.D.S. Business College, and also worked for some time in the shops of the streetcar company as repair man, and took up the study of electrical mechanics. But the “call of the wild” seemed always to be beckoning him back to the life and friendships of his earlier associations and he seemed to feel, in the confinement of the city, like a prisoner waiting for the day of his liberation, or an apprentice counting the days of his servitude and, not long afterward, he had accepted the responsible employment as foreman for a large sheep and cattle company in southern Idaho.
It would seem like the “call of destiny” that Fred should determine on this change in his earlier region of activity and employment; for it was here, in the region in and about Sublett, Idaho, that he formed the acquaintance, fell in love with, and later married Hope Hulet, a beautiful and intellectual young schoolteacher in that somewhat rural community. Life in this semi-barren region was hard at best, but Fred’s companion met all the changing vicissitudes of life with a stoical courage and fortitude filled with faith and optimism that overcame all obstacles, and brought to their union a happy home of eight wonderful, ambitious children. A more gifted pen must record the life and labors of this family in the town of Malta, Idaho, where a lasting impress has been established in the life of the community, both in a religious and civic capacity.
Fred Gardiner, the father, has now passed on to his reward, a well-earned rest from the toils and concerns of this life; joined in the holy bonds of matrimony, sealed by the authority of the holy Priesthood in the Temple of our God for time and eternity; leaving a rich heritage of honesty and integrity to principles of eternal truth to his ever increasing posterity. There is occasion for rejoicing that “he finished his course, he fought the good fight, and kept the faith.”
On the morning of 26 December 1960, Fred Gardiner passed away at his home in Malta, Idaho, just three months prior to his eighty-second birthday. Funeral services were held on the 29th, at the Malta Ward Chapel. A large congregation assembled there, and also at the cemetery. The floral offerings were numerous, and the tributes by the speakers were sincere and appropriate.
The family, some of them having traveled long distances, was all together in the humble home, to mourn the loss of their father, and to contribute their love, aid, and comfort to their mother. It was a touching and lovely scene.
It isn’t the soil alone can grow
A golden crop from the seed we sow;
But there is a “Something” in the How
And the heart of the one who holds the plow!
Who can appraise the worth of a human soul? The philosophers of the ages have attempted the task, with a multitude of varying conclusions. Let us presume that in the life and character of Fred Gardiner, there were elements of true greatness. A great American had this to say of Abraham Lincoln:
“The love of Justice and fair play, and that respect for order and the law, which must underlie every nation that would endure, were deeply imbedded in his nature. These are qualities destitute of show and whose names are never set to music…These are qualities that stand the test when hurricanes sweep by. These are the joints of oak that ride the storm, and when the clouds are melted and the waves are still, move on serenely in their course…His strength arose from that preservation through all his life of that fondness for his early home, and of the tender recollections of his family and their struggles never so far away but that he could still hear the note of the evening bird in the groves of his nativity. He was never so great but that the ties of his youth still bound him.”
Fred Gardiner, in his early manhood, was deprived of many of the tender associations of home and family, and the guiding influence of parents, in his determination to help to alleviate, to some extent, the struggles through which they were forced to face; but from boyhood and throughout his life, he manifested a deep and abiding strength of character, under many and varied forms, and kept himself free from the besetting vices and follies that were common among the vulgar classes of society with which he was often forced to mingle. Though deprived of the many and admirable facilities of the Church in training the young men to lead lives of righteousness, yet there seemed to be inborn in his very nature, a deep and profound faith in the Gospel of our Lord, which sustained him in all the changing vicissitudes of life, and ennobled all his later years. And it may truthfully be said that, in choosing a marvelous woman as his life’s companion, he found the one who could awaken and develop those more or less latent qualities which, merged together, enriched their lives, which qualities they have transmitted to their posterity, worthy of emulation, and a precious heritage “of golden memories that are good and sweet!”
This brief narrative and tribute may add somewhat to your already intimate knowledge of the life, ideals and achievements of your husband and father, dear Hope and family. Imperfect as this contribution may be, it has been a pleasure for me to recall and indite it, as a simple tribute to one whose life has touched my own. I cherish his memory!
I will close with a selection from the poems of Scotland’s Immortal Bard, Robert Burns, written nearly two hundred years ago, somewhat in the nature of a prayer:
The Hoary sire—the mortal stroke
Long, long, be pleased to spare!
To bless his little filial flock,
And show what good men are.
She, who her lovely offspring eyes
With tender hopes and fears,
Oh, bless her with a mother’s joys,
But spare a mother’s tears!
Their hope, their stay, their darling youth,
In manhood’s dawning blush;
Bless him, Thou God of love and truth,
Up to a parent’s wish!
The beauteous, seraph sister-band
With Earnest tears I pray,
Thou know’st the snares on ev’ry hand—
Guide Thou their steps away!
When, soon or late, they reach that coast,
O’er life’s rough ocean driven,
May they rejoice, no wand’rer lost,
A FAMILY IN HEAVEN!
Robert Burns
Clarence L. Gardiner
928 Hollywood Avenue
Salt Lake City, Utah
Gardiner home probably 1936:
According to Mary, Hope raised turkeys most of the time she had children in the home ( 1920s - 1950s). James reported that during the time he lived in the home until he left in the early 1940s, they didn't have running water. They used a hand pump to get water from a well just outside the house. They also didn't have indoor plumbing.
They used an outhouse. James Gardiner told me that his mother would pay him 10 cents to fill in the old outhouse, dig a new one and move the structure over the hole. Carol said that Hope and Fred slept downstairs, the girls slept upstairs and the boys slept out in the shed on the hay. Carol remembers a rattlesnake being accidently thrown up onto a wagon as the girls were stamping the hay down. As James said, they were poor in terms of money but not opportunity.
Hi everyone, Attached is a copy of Frederick Gardiner’s registration card for World War II. He was 63 years old. N
STORIES ABOUT FREDERICK GARDINER
By James Gardiner
BULL DURHAM
After my parents lost the Meadow Creek place, they moved to Declo, Idaho where my father did a variety of farm work to make a living. I was the baby- -- their first. Over the years of his youth and beyond, Dad had spent a lot of time herding sheep. I don't know how he started, but he took up smoking and it was an ingrained habit when he met my mother.In those days, smoking Bull Durham tobacco was the in thing to do. The cigarettes were not the neat cylinders we see today, but the smoker rolled his own, and many were anything but a neat cylinder. Bull Durham cigarette tobacco came in a small cotton bag with a yellow draw string at the top. The drawstring went through a three- fourths inch round cardboard Bull Durham tag that dangled at the end of the string. The whole package was compressed into a firm oblong shape that fit neatly into a shirt's breast pocket or the pocket of bib overalls. On the side of the package was a pack of cigarette papers to be peeled off and used one at a time. The package cost 5 cents.
To make a cigarette required loosening the drawstring, deftly using three fingers to hold paper in a little channel and pouring in just the right amount of tobacco, then tongue moistening one edge of the paper and rolling the paper into a cylinder around the tobacco. The moistened paper stuck to make a useable cigarette.
When Dad met Mother and she insisted on a temple marriage, he had to quit smoking. However, when Mother was cleaning clothes in Declo that fall, she found some Bull Durham in my dad’s clothes. She was probably shocked to realize he had gone back to smoking, but likely understanding, since the trauma of losing his property. But that was beside the point. She immediately scavenged the place for any more tobacco, and threw the works into the fire.
When Dad came home that night, she confronted him with the facts and issued an ultimatum: “You have your choice. It is either Bull Durham or me!”
She bore seven more children to the ex-smoker.
Under the influence of that good woman, Dad started studying the Gospel and taking an active part in the Church. He had the habit of taking a few minutes after the noon meal to relax and read his Scriptures. He insisted on regular family prayer and encouraged and supported all the children in Church activity. He never got to the point of enjoying speaking in public, but did it anyway and served on the High Council. He had many wonderful experiences in Church service.
My father told me many times that he felt very fortunate and greatly blessed with the companionship of my mother, a wonderful woman.
James H. Gardiner
October 2002
THE GENERATOR
In the midst of the great depression of the 1930’s, many of us were delighted and fascinated by the marvels of radio. For our family, scratching out an existence from the dusty, alkali flats of southern Idaho, owning a real operating radio seemed impossible. We did not have electric power nor could we afford a battery operated set. On General Conference Sundays, some of us walked the mile and a half to town to listen to the radio a local storekeeper provided for KSL radio conference coverage. We enjoyed hearing President Grant and the other authorities. For some of the Joe Louis fights, we walked about a mile south, to the checking station, to listen to the radio report of these matches. We loved the contact radio brought.
I read about crystal sets. No batteries were required; they operated from power picked up by an antenna. Their low operating cost, and possibility of home construction appealed to me. The nearest radio station was 90 miles away. I wondered if a crystal set would work. From some of my dollar-a-day, “derrick-boy” earn¬ings, I saved enough to order some earphones and a few parts from Allied Radio in Chicago. From that order and salvaged parts, I made a crystal set, ran out about 200 feet of antenna, put on the earphones, adjusted the tuning and cat whisker and listened. During the day almost nothing, but at night, wonderful. I heard stations from Salt Lake City, Pocatello, Los Angeles, Denver, San Francisco, Del Rio, Texas, and many other places. One night I picked up a scrap of conversation from an airplane.
From a single headset, a crystal radio leaves a lot to be desired for family listening. We were delighted when Grandpa Hulet sent us a battery operated “Airline” radio, complete with gooseneck speaker. We dipped into our savings and mail ordered “B” and “C” batteries. We pulled the 6-volt battery from our 1926 Chevy to power the filaments. It worked. We had a celebration and were soon fans of the great radio programs of the 30’s. That radio brought a new world to us.
We were very frugal radio listeners. Only important listening was allowed. But the batteries were a problem, especially the “A” battery from the car. We seldom ran the car because we could not afford the gasoline. As a result, the battery seldom got charged. After we ran the battery down on the radio, starting the car was a chore. We had to crank the car or pull it with a horse to start it. That can be a problem on an icy morning.
For all my life, I had seen my parents toil to exhaustion trying to keep up with farm and family needs. Washing clothes had always been a difficult task for my mother, who insisted on cleanliness. I recall her boiling the clothes, then scrubbing them on a washboard, then rinsing and wringing. Even with the help of children, it was a tedious, never-ending burden. But once washed and wrung, clothes were hung out to dry in the ever present south Idaho wind. They were gathered in dry, fresh and wonderfully clean.
At the end of a summer, my brother, Golden, and I were looking at washing machines in a Sears catalog. We knew our mother needed to be spared from some of her burden. We checked the prices on washers driven, not by an electric motor, but by a one-cylinder gasoline engine. Remember, we did not have electric power. As I recall, the price was about $43. We pooled our savings and found we could handle that much. But hold on! The catalog showed a gasoline driven washing machine that came with a generator to charge a 6-volt battery! How much more to include the generator? About $5. With that feature, we could do the washing and charge the battery at the same time. No question, we decided to order the machine with the generator. We would have only a few cents left.
Then our mother got involved. How about your tithing? The bubble burst. We paid our tithing and ordered the washer without the gen¬erator. We were disappointed, but were pleased that our mother and the family would benefit.
As delivery time approached, we were excited by the difference this machine would make. Each day after school, we dropped by the post office/freight depot to check on the arrival. Finally it came. We checked the sturdy, wooden shipping crate and noted the address. It was ours. We peered between the case slats and admired the shiny new machine---complete with a small gasoline engine and a coiled, flexible exhaust pipe. But alas, there was something extra connected to the engine. Could that be a generator? It looked like a generator to me. What a cruel twist of fate! Sears had sent the wrong machine. Obviously the washer would have to be exchanged for the one we had ordered and paid for. We were out of money and discouraged — another long wait for the matter to be corrected.
Our father picked up the mail, including a letter from Sears. They said, “We are sorry we could not supply the unit you ordered. We hope the unit shipped will be satisfactory.” It was.
A PIPE STORY
I grew up on a farm in the Raft River Valley of Southern Idaho. I was a teenager during the great depression of the 30's. One dry year, about August, the streams dried up and we had to dig a well to get water for our cows and horses. We pulled the water from the well with a long rope tied to a bucket. It is amazing how much water a thirsty cow or horse can drink. We needed some pipe so we could fit a pump and relieve the torture of the bucket and rope.Money for us was almost unknown, but we were praying for help. My father had an idea. He said he knew where we could get all the pipe we needed, and it would only cost a few gallons of gasoline. That sounded good to me.
Early one morning, we loaded our old ‘25 Chevy with all the gear Dad thought we would need, including five gallons of water to replenish the water that boiled out of the radiator going uphill. Dad drove and my brother, Golden, and I were pleased to see new country.
As we neared our destination, Dad drove through the sagebrush over what was an abandoned dry farm. The sagebrush had grown up since the homesteader had given up. We found the old well site-- -there was a 6-inch steel casing protruding about a foot above the ground and coming out of that a good looking 2-inch, galvanized steel pipe. My dad was pleased that it was still there and gave it a good test pull, and it was obvious why it was still there. He was a very strong man, but could not raise it at all.
We rigged up a tripod with poles we had brought from home, tied our wire stretchers (block and tackle, to you) to the apex of the tripod, and Dad took a couple half-hitches around the protruding pipe, using a chain with 1-inch links, and then hooked the chain to the extended wire stretcher. Dad told me to take up the slack with the wire stretchers while he held the half-hitches snug on the pipe. I took up the slack and soon the wire stretchers were groaning and squeaking under great pressure. I hoped the tripod would hold. Suddenly, the pipe was swinging on the chain and Dad was grinning.
We pulled the pipe to the limit of the stretchers and Dad took a clamp he had made out of a couple of pieces of Douglas Fir 2 x 4’s and clamped the pipe so it could not go down the well while we took a new bite with the chain and extended the stretchers. Each pull was about 5 feet. We slowly repeated these steps until the first pipe coupling came into sight, then uncoupled the pipe above the pipe clamp.
We had a couple of sections out of the well and were very pleased. I was holding the stretcher and as Dad loosened the clamp to put it further down the pipe, suddenly there was a screech, some sparks and a reverberating crash and the earth trembled beneath our feet. The remaining pipe was back down the well.
We were dismayed. My Dad sat down. I could tell he was thinking. Suddenly, I had a brilliant thought, which I expressed. "We have plenty of pipe for our well. There is no easy way to get the rest of the pipe---it is gone forever. Let's load up what we have and go home.” Don't you think that is brilliant? Well, at least logical. How about practical?
My father did not buy any of the above. He said that if we did not get the pipe out, it would be gone forever. No one would ever know that it was down in that black hole. Much to my dismay, he said we were going to get it out.
We reassembled the system, doubled up on the clamps, and gingerly lowered the pipe back down the well casing. My dad retrieved the rear view mirror from the old Chevy and my brother held it to reflect the bright sunlight down the casing shaft---no longer a black hole.
By some miracle of good eyesight, steady hands, patience and some extra help, Dad screwed the retrieved pipe sections onto the one down the well, and we proceeded to pull, with an extra set of clamps for safety. We got the entire pipe out, and my father was very pleased with its beautiful condition. We loaded all our gear and pipe and going home the car boiled a lot with the heavy load.
Almost seventy years have passed and some of that pipe is still in use.
Written by James H. Gardiner
June, 2002
FRED GARDINER STORIES
As a young man, Fred Gardiner spent a lot of summers in the mountains of northern Utah herding sheep. On one occasion, the chokecherries were ripe, and Dad liked them. He found a tree, heavy with fruit and proceeded to fill a bucket. He heard some muffled noises from the other side of the tree and investigated. He was confronted by a huge grizzly bear. Dad dropped the bucket and departed in haste. When he dared, he glanced back to see if the bear was gaining on him. The bear was streaking in the opposite direction.When my son, Jeffrey and I made a seventy-mile hike around the Raft River Valley (the home of my youth), we had completed the trip on foot, and were waiting for the family car to take us home. It was about 10:00 a.m. on a clear, fresh, lovely day. As we waited beside the road, one of the older natives of the valley, Frank Olson, stopped to investigate a man and a teenage boy sitting alone, ten miles from habitation. I told him I was one of Fred Gardiner’s boys, and Jeff was a grandson to Fred.
He told of passing by Fred's homestead when Fred was still single and just getting a start on improving the property. Fred lived a long way from any neighbor. He noticed a team of horses hooked to a plow and just standing alone in a partly plowed field. He said to himself, “I wonder if Fred is in trouble?" He proceeded to Fred's cabin and was astonished to hear music coming forth. Fred was giving the horses a break and was playing his violin.
Roadside repair, miles from any town or service station was a way of life. On many trips I helped my dad make an emergency repair to a knocking engine. We would drain the oil, (save it of course) drop the engine oil pan, take a few shims from a loose piston connecting rod bearing, check for bearing play, restore the pan and oil and we were on our way.
Coming home from Burley, Idaho, more than a forty-mile trip, my dad's Model T quit and he could not get it going again. So he decided to walk the remaining twenty-five miles home. After several hours of trudging, he was surprised when another Model T. stopped beside him, in a cloud of dust.
"Well, Fred, do you want a lift?"
"No thanks. I have walked 20 miles and I will finish the trip myself."
Sometime in the 30's, now in a different location: Dad was walking the mile and a half to church. A non-LDS man gave him a lift. "Now Fred, if God wanted you to go to church, He would have provided a way." Dad said, “He did."
I estimate that about 1910, my father was hired as foreman of the big spread called the Keogh Ranch. He had a variety of roughnecks working for him. One of his favorite stories was of a cocky, young broncobuster who prided himself in his skill at staying on anything that bucked. Dad gave him a spirited young mustang to tame. The young man got set on the horse and then the helpers let the horse free to do his best. The young bronco rider soon found he had more than he anticipated, but was ready to do or die. In a skillful and violent maneuver, the horse tossed the rider into the irrigation ditch, which happened to be full of water. Sputtering and swearing, the broncobuster climbed out of the ditch, clenched his fist and shook it at the sky and shouted, "Come down and fight."
My father liked to tell about the time he lost his hearing. He was yet a young man, not ready for any hearing problem. He had been herding sheep during the summer and fall and when his duties were completed, he decided he must go to a doctor in Salt Lake City to determine if anything could be done to help his failing hearing. With some difficulty he communicated with the doctor's nurse. She said she would have a look. She proceeded to look and probe. Suddenly my father said he heard the streetcars outside ---clearly---and then after a look and probe into the other ear, he was astounded---he could hear! Both ears gave up a collection of wool and wax. (Earache prevention!)
By James H. Gardiner
May 2004
Words of Clarence Gardiner:
Frederick Gardiner was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, 26 March 1879, the son of Robert and Margaret Stewart Gardiner, who emigrated from Dundee, Scotland.
His father, Robert Gardiner owned a restaurant and candy shop. The location of the home and factory was directly back of what is now known as the Kearns Building (136 South Main). It was here that Frederick was born; the fifth child in what later grew to ten members---five boys and five girls.
Schooling
Dances
The regular schooling of Fred in his early boyhood may be said to have ended when these early “grades” were completed as the fortunes of the family became involved in the disturbed economic conditions of the country which assumed serious proportions in the early 1890’s, when a great depression caused widespread suffering and loss of property throughout the United States and was particularly severe in Utah. The farm proved unproductive and Robert Gardiner becomes involved in financial difficulties. Some of the near neighbors of Fred were “sheep men” owning large herds, which were taken during the summer months to the mountains and valleys o the upper Bear River, and wintered in and about Skull Valley in the western part of the State. Two of these neighbors, Henry Sutton and James W. Marsh, were engaged in this enterprise, and at an early age Fred was engaged as a herder and camp-tender in their employ, and in his earlier years spent many months on the “sheep range”. He also engaged in the same activity with Bishop James Wrathall, of Grantsville, and was held in high esteem by those keen and careful sheep men, because of this intimate understanding of the characteristics of the flocks entrusted to his keeping. His associates on the range had him in great esteem because of his rather profound ability, carefully planning the movements of the sheep to the best advantage. The interests of his employers were always uppermost in his mind and he treats their property, both of livestock and camp equipage with the feeling that it was a sacred trust imposed on him, and that it had to be fulfilled with the best and ability he had
Family Moves Fred 15
About the year 1893, the family moved fro the farm into the city, locating in the Fourteenth Ward, but Fred continued for some years following his vocation with the sheep.
LDS Business College - Fred is 22
About 1900, deciding to spend more time at home, he was enrolled for two winters in the L.D.S. Business College, and also worked for some time in the shops of the street-car company as repairman, and took up the study of electrical mechanics. But the “call of the wild” seemed always to be beckoning him back to the life and friendships of his earlier associations and he seemed to feel, in the confinement of the city, like a prisoner waiting of the day of liberation, or an apprentice counting the days of his servitude, and not long afterward he had accepted the responsibility employment as foreman for a large sheep and cattle company in southern Idaho.
It would seem like the “call of destiny” that Fred should determine on this change in his earlier region of activity and employment; for it was here, in the region in and about Sublett, Idaho, that he formed the acquaintance, fell in love with and later married Hope Hulet, a beautiful and intellectual young schoolteacher in that somewhat rural community. Life in this semi-barren region was hard at best, the Fred’s companion met all the changing vicissitudes of life with a stoical courage and fortitude filled with faith and optimism that overcame all obstacles and brought to their union a happy home of eight wonderful, ambitious children. A more gifted pen must record the life and labors of his family in the town of Malta, Idaho, where a lasting impress has been established in the life the community both in a religious and civic capacity.
On the morning of December 26, 1960, Fred Gardiner passed away at his home in Malta, Idaho, just three months prior to his eighty-second birthday.
Summary Life of Fred Gardiner
Fred Gardiner in his early manhood was deprived of many of the tender associations of home and family, and the guiding influence of parents, in his determination to help to alleviate to some extend the struggles through which they were forces to face, but from boyhood the throughout his life he manifested a deep and abiding strength of character, under many and varied forms, and kept himself free from the setting vices and follies that were common among the vulgar classes of society with which he as often forces to mingle. Though deprived of the many and admirable facilities of the Church in training the young men to lead lives of righteousness, yet he seemed to be inborn in his very nature a deep and profound faith in the Gospel of our Lord, which sustained him in all the changing vicissitudes of life, and ennobled all his later years. And it may be truthfully be said, that in choosing a marvelous woman as his life’s companion, he found the one who could awaken and develop those more or less latent qualities which merged together, enriched their life’s, which qualities they have transmitted to their posterity, worthy of emulation, and a precious heritage “of golden memories, that are good and sweet!’
Notes on the Life of Fred Gardiner by his wife Hope Gardiner
Meeting Fred
He was good company and had a good sense of humor.
There was a small ward at Sublett, but Fred’s work took him out on the range so much of the time that he had had little connection with the Church activities after he left Salt Lake. He had missed this side of living, but always had the Standard Works with him and studied them whenever he could. He always had a dictionary handy and liked to learn new words. While riding alone, he practiced the times tables and could give offhand any of the times tables up to the twenties. While I was teaching summer school that summer, I too felt the lack of Church activity, and our belief in common for the Church made us become friends very soon.
Although Fred Gardiner owned the home where I boarded, I did not see him for some time after I arrived there. He was away on the summer range with his sheep and only came to the ranch occasionally. He seemed rather shy and did not have much to say for a while. As time went on we became good friends. He was good company to be around. He had a keen sense of humor and liked to tease. The Welches seemed to think a great deal of him, but the women folk sometimes didn’t know how to take his joking.
Times were hard for people then, and they were many miles from a store. Likely at times it was hard to provide the necessary food. However, while I was boarding with them, they served adequate meals. But I learned that once they had cooked a jackrabbit when Fred was with them for a meal. He couldn’t bring himself to partake of any of that meat. Mrs. Welch and Mrs. Whitney were very much offended and no doubt embarrassed. I do not know what was said or done at that time, as it happened before I arrived.
Fred’s Horse Pud
One morning as I was walking to the schoolhouse, Fred was leaving to go to his sheep camp. He walked along with me as far as the schoolhouse leading his saddle horse, “Pud.” When we reached the schoolhouse, Fred noticed that the cover was off the water cistern. He said some motorist passing by must have stopped to get some water and left the cover off. When he looked into the cistern there was a drowned jackrabbit in it. Fred got the rabbit out and, with a mischievous look on his face, proceeded to tie that stiff, bedraggled, wet jackrabbit on the back of his saddle. I said, “What are you going to do with that old rabbit?” He said, “I’m going to take it down for Mrs. Welch to cook.”
The thought of him offering that specimen to them to cook struck me as being so funny and ridiculous, I could hardly keep from laughing every time I thought of it during the day. Then when I learned that evening that Fred had actually taken that wet, old rabbit down to the house to those folks, I couldn’t keep from laughing, and couldn’t stop laughing for a while even though I didn’t blame them for being vexed with me. I know Mrs. Welch was boiling mad at me, but I had to have my laugh out anyway. She said, “Well, laugh if you want to, but I don’t think it is funny.” Well, from her point of view, it wasn’t funny. It was embarrassing and I felt foolish to think I had added to her hurt feelings. It was the picture in my mind of that wet, stiff jackrabbit tied on the back of that saddle to be offered to anyone to cook that struck me as being so unheard of and funny. If they had had a sense of humor and not taken it so seriously, they could have laughed along with me and we all would have been happier. Those people were very kind and thoughtful of me as long as I stayed with them. The cistern had to be emptied and cleaned out, and more water hauled to fill it.
During that summer there was very little recreation for Leora and me, so occasionally we went for a horseback ride on Fred’s gentle little bay pony, Pud. He was very nice and easy to ride, as he did not jolt one as some horses do. I really enjoyed riding that pony.
When Fred knew how much I liked Pud, he told me he was going to give him to me. But such a prize was not to be for me. Before I went back to Meadow Creek the next summer, Pud had found the granary open and ate some poison grain, which killed him.
Fred’s Talents
Fred had a natural talent in music and enjoyed playing the violin, although he never had the opportunity to take many music lessons. While he lived at Meadow Creek, he often played for the dances at the schoolhouse, and often was asked to play for dances at Malta. Flossie Smith usually accompanied him on the piano at Malta.
Courting
When I was ready to leave Meadow Creek to go home the fall of 1919, Fred took me as far as Malta. He had been asked to play for a dance that night at Malta. I went over to the dance with him for a little while, but soon decided that I was too tired to stay. I had had a busy day at the schoolhouse, besides getting my belongings packed. I had a room at the Deardorf Hotel for that night. During the evening Fred came over for a few minutes. He brought a welcome treat, a large glass of pineapple ice cream soda. The weather was very hot and sultry. He went back to play for the dance a while longer. I went to bed and soon fell asleep, but was awakened by a lot of wild whooping and hollering out in the street between the hotel and the dance hall. I couldn’t figure why there was so much noise and commotion at that time of night. I had heard something in the past about some of the Malta boys being rowdy and drinking liquor, so decided something like that was happening. Next morning when Fred came to take me to breakfast, I asked him what was happening the night before. He said some of the boys had been drinking, and got too noisy. One of those noisy fellows had been a passenger in Fred’s car when we rode to Malta that afternoon. During that ride he was as quiet and timid as a little mouse, and I figured he must be very reserved and bashful. It took only a swig of whiskey to make him as loud and uncouth as an Indian on the warpath. I thought then, “One thing for sure, I never want to live in Malta.” Little did I think that Malta would be where I would spend most of the rest of my life. However, I have found there were many fine, good people living in Malta.
Date to Marry
When school closed and I was ready to go home for the summer, Fred insisted we set a date to be married. So June 2 was the date. Since I had only about two weeks to get ready to be married, my mother and sister, Verda, did much to help. They did most of the sewing on my wedding dress.
I was home about two weeks before Fred arrived there. He had been to Salt Lake to see his folks. His brother, Clarence, was a bishop in one of the wards there at that time. He ordained Fred an Elder on 30 May l920. Although I was of age, I insisted that Fred ask my parents consent. He did so, but took good care that I was not present when he did. I remember how shocked Father was when he learned that Fred’s hair was grayer than his own. Fred’s hair started turning gray quite early. Father’s hair was not all gray when he died at eighty-five years of age. He always had beautiful, thick, wavy hair. Fred’s hair was not too thick, but had a natural, kinky curl.
I had wished that both father and Mother could go with us to be married, but Father could not ride in a car without becoming very carsick. Mother went with us to Salt Lake. On our way, we had just reached the foot of the mountain road near the mouth of Weber Canyon when the car stopped. Fred looked the situation over and found that there was no gas in the tank, although he had filled it the day before. There was nothing to do but for him to walk about three miles to the nearest store to get some gas. Although it was an inconvenience, we still thought it quite a humorous happening at such a time. Mother and I stayed at a hotel that night. Fred stayed at his brother Clarence’s home.
Financial Troubles
That was just a beginning of our financial troubles. While Fred was back East to take a bunch of lambs to market, someone (he suspected one of the herders) made off with about 300 ewes. Those depression years had ruined many stockmen. The banks and loan companies, which had loaned money to buy feed and stock, began closing in on those who had been obliged to borrow money. We fared as others in the same situation. About August of that year both of Fred’s ranches were lost as well as the sheep.
The first day we got to Meadow Creek, the man from the bank that had the mortgage on the sheep and ranches came to see Fred. We knew what was ahead of us, because many others had lost all their possessions in that depression. When the man from the bank came, he hadn’t had any dinner and there wasn’t any place but our place where he could get any food. I had mixed bread early that morning before I started driving the team, but hadn’t had a chance to bake before dinnertime. So I made some fried bread for our dinner. That was all I could do for Mr. Hoover. I thought I gave him a fairly good meal considering our just arriving in a camp wagon. I asked him if he had had enough to eat. He gave me a rather smirky answer, and said it would keep him from starving. If I had known his lack of consideration I might have let him go without dinner.
He got angry with Fred once because the sheep got on his land. He threatened Fred’s life for that. He came one day about a week after the baby was born and offered to help in any way he could. Fred told him that he didn’t know of anything that we needed right then. Mr. Evans likely was offended the reason he was so angry the day Mother and I met him. Mother said, “He is the meanest looking man I ever saw”. He was really a handsome man, but his terrible temper and bad disposition were something to deal with, both for his family and his neighbors.
In August 1921, the bank foreclosed on us and we lost the sheep and both ranches. Incidentally, in the 1960’s, the interstate highway was built through Meadow Creek. In the time since I taught in the Meadow Creek School, most of the dry farmers had left their farms and homes, and moved to other parts of the country. Mr. Arthur D. Pierce, of Malta, had bought many of the abandoned dry farms from the County or the banks. Thus, he became a wealthy landowner and stockman. He became owner of both of Fred Gardiner’s ranches, as well as many others. The old rock schoolhouse and the Pierce buildings on Fred’s home ranch are about the only landmarks left in the Meadow Creek area now that the freeway passes through.
The Fiddle
There was very little work available that winter, so there was little income. Occasionally Brother Smith, who was a counselor to Bishop I. J. Neddo, would ask Fred to play the violin for a ward dance. That was expected to be done as a free service. Had our circumstances been better, I would not have thought much of it, but I did feel that it was not quite fair to Fred. He had to buy gasoline and travel about five miles to town. One night at a dance, not a Church dance, a man decided to pass the hat to pay for the playing. When he reached in his pocket for money to pay Fred, he brought out $1.50. He kept the rest. He was so considerate.
Fred got work on the railroad very soon after we got there.
So soon Fred was riding like Paul Revere to the Peterson store two miles away to telephone Dr. Dorland. (Golden Born)
Dangerous Evening
I will never forget one stormy night that summer when Fred had to go Malta for groceries. It was about dark when he started home. The sky was dark with heavy dark clouds. While he was traveling there was a terrific electric storm. I do not remember a more frightening electric storm than that one was. To make bad matters worse, the car lights went out. The flashes of lightning came one right after another so that it was light most of the time. Fred would have to travel as far as he could with each flash of lightning. It took him a long time to get home and I was so worried about him, and so scared of all the thunder and lightning. I had put the children to bed before the storm got so terrific. I was glad they were asleep and were not frightened. Sister Gunnell told me the next day how her children had been so frightened and clung to her, and how they took turns praying for their safety. I, too, was frightened and prayed for Fred’s safety and for our own safety and for others, also. What a wonderful feeling of relief and thankfulness I experienced when Fred finally arrived home safely after such a dangerous and difficult experience. The storm finally passed over and we were very thankful to be safe and able to go to bed and rest.
Fence the Place
Fred worked hard all that spring and summer on the desert land. He had to fence the place, and needed help to measure the land so he would know where to put the fence. He had no one to help him except June who was not yet four years old. His father would carry him part way, usually, as he was not too strong. June would hold one end of the long rope for his father and they measured the 200 acres. When they got it measured, Mr. Gunnell said it wasn’t right, so they had to do the measuring all over again. That was a hard thing under the circumstances, but they did it.
Death of a Horse
He cleared the sagebrush off quite an area. He had to dig a well and irrigate the land and plow it before he could plant it to alfalfa. He irrigated it partly from Raft River and later from the well. One side of the well was dug out so the horses could walk down and get a drink. One day when one of the horses, “Old Nick,” went down to get a drink, he slipped and fell down and couldn’t get up again; probably his neck was broken. Fred felt really bad about losing that horse. He thought so much of that team, “Nick” and “Brownie.” Nick had a white strip down his face and was a tan color; Brownie was a dark brown color. They were such high-spirited animals, always willing to do their best.
One day we took a lunch, and Fred took the children and me over to see what he had been doing on the place. He had bought a nice lamb roast in town the day before. He took his bake oven and roasted that lamb meat, and how good it did taste to all of us. It was a real picnic day for us as a family.
Fred felt really bad about losing that horse. He thought so much of that team, “Nick” and “Brownie.” Nick had a white strip down his face and was a tan color; Brownie was a dark brown color. They were such high-spirited animals, always willing to do their best.
When Fred tried to find out what the trouble was, he couldn’t see anything around, but next morning two young fryers were missing. Fred made nests of hay near the wagon so the children could get the eggs easily. One day Golden, who was less than three years old, had noticed one of the Plymouth Rock hens on the nest, so was anxious to be the one to bring the egg to me. He sat down outside to wait. After waiting awhile he became impatient. I heard him talking and looked to see to whom he was talking. He was saying, “Son of a gun, son of a gun,” over and over. He was tired and impatient waiting for her to get off the nest so he could get and bring the egg.
It was late when Fred got back. He had been having difficulties. The heavy bedsprings kept sliding off the top of the loaded car. In the dark it was hard to see how things were doing.
Highway Work
Fred worked helping build the highway between Strevell and Idahome, so was away from home much of the time. The summer of 1926, June was five years old, Golden was three and a half years old and Mary was one and a half years. Sometimes the two little boys would take a two-quart pail and bring us a drink of fresh water. They were so willing to help any way they could. Mary was very young, but just as willing and anxious to help.
Chicken Coup
Fred made a small coop for the chickens. When spring (1926) came we had eggs enough for our needs and could have a chicken to eat occasionally, which was helpful. Fruit was scarce and hard to get, but we did manage to get a few peaches to can. We set the hens that wanted to set and raised quite a few young chickens. While we were still living at the Sears place, I would send about a half-bushel of eggs to the store and get my groceries. I could get a five-pound brick of cheese for $1.25. Now (1977) one pound of cheese costs much more than that amount.
Highway Work
In November of 1926, we decided to go back to Peterson for the winter. We were expecting our fourth child. As Fred was working on the highway, he would take us to Peterson and then return to Malta to work and batch it. The highway wasn’t as good then as it is now and the Model T did not travel very fast.
No Car Lights
Fred told the man he would help him get by our car, “but would he help get our car lights fixed first?” The man said, “Oh, no, I am in a hurry, I can’t stop. I have to get by.” He managed somehow to get his car past our car, but I expected to see it slide down the mountain. That man surely had no consideration for anyone but himself. Fred finally got the lights fixed, but it was a time of great anxiety for us while he was working. We were surely relieved and thankful when we could get going and reach my.
Robert Dies
In April 1927, Fred went to Salt Lake City to General Conference. While he was there his father, who was 82 years of age, passed away. He had been living for a while at the home of his son, Clarence. While going down the basement stairs, he fell and broke his collarbone. During the time he was recovering from that accident, he suffered a stroke and lived only a short time after that.
Church Activity
That April, Fred was made a member of the Stake High Council and worked in that capacity for several years. John A. Elison was Stake President at the time. During the time that Bishop Orson Sanders was in office, Fred was made Ward Clerk for the Malta Ward and served for several years. Later, he was first assistant to William W. Barrett, the High Priest Group leader.
Although Fred had worked in areas where he had no chance for activity in the Church, he was always ready and willing to attend church services and do whatever was asked of him by those in authority. He was a great reader, and always had a good book handy. He studied the Scriptures whenever he had time to read. He never forced the children to attend church, but always was ready to go with them. Many times when he had no means for transportation, he walked a long distance to church meetings.
Story Teller
We should have written all of those stories down then, because now we have forgotten too much to be able to tell them as Fred did. His sense of humor helped make his story telling more interesting.
Fred went out to try to locate her and see what the trouble was. He was walking along the creek where the noise had seemed to come from. He saw something white down in the grass. He started to reach down to pick it up to see what it was when he got a whiff of skunk scent. He decided quickly not to pick that white thing up. It was lucky for him that he made a quick decision. Skunks are better left untouched.
Fred got permission to baptize June in the middle fork of Cassia Creek that runs through the back yard near the house. He was baptized 10 August 1929 by his father and confirmed the next day in Sacrament Meeting by I. J. Neddo
Fred had promised the bishop that he would take his truck and haul some benches from the Sublett church house that morning for use at conference. The children had no way to get to conference so they stayed home that day.
Custodian
Later in the fall they were able to move to the new schoolhouse. Fred was hired as custodian. The wages were $40 a month. Then when the depression was at its worst stage, the trustees decided to let another man with a large family share the job with Fred. They each got $20 per month. While he had the whole job of sweeping and tending the boiler room, Golden and June would help with the sweeping and dusting. When he just took care of the boiler room and the heating, he often had to stay late when there was a school meeting, a basket ball game, or some other activity. The children liked to go where he was in the boiler room and eat their lunches while he ate his. While Fred was working around the school, if he had a few spare minutes he would read Scriptures or read some good book. He took a high school class or two. He liked mathematics. During those years and later, he completed several correspondence classes.
While Fred was working around the school, if he had a few spare minutes he would read Scriptures or read some good book. He took a high school class or two. He liked mathematics. During those years and later, he completed several correspondence classes.
The summer of 1930 we had a good crop of turkeys and Fred raised some hay and grain, but there was always a struggle to provide the necessities of life.
He passed away suddenly on the morning of 26 December 1960. We had had a very pleasant Christmas. Mary and Frank were with us. It was a great shock and loss to us as a family, and home has never been the same since. There have been many years without him, but what a blessing my family has been to me. All have been kind and considerate, and what a satisfaction it is to see them all living good, honorable lives.
James Gardiner:
Fred was always very faithful in carrying out his Church assignments and he studied the Scriptures regularly.
In his earlier years he would study books I the evenings but later he would just study the scriptures. His scriptures were well worn from use and well marked from study.
Grandpa had beautiful handwriting. He would practice often at the table in the front room after he was done with the chores of the day
He got so good that he was in demand as a secretary in the church. For many years he was secretary to the high priests quorum, a position which he held up until his death.
Strong
After he got back active into the church he went down to a bar and grill to talk to someone on business. The guys in there were rude. They said some derogatory things about those Mormons.
He picked up the loudest of the group and physically put him on the floor.
A year later the same guy got drunk on the 4th of July and said that he and Fred would take on the entire town.
Land
Fred received a patent for a homestead entry in 1914. This became part of the lower ranch at Meadow Creek. In 1917 Fred received a patent for a desert land entry. This became part of the upper ranch at Meadow Creek. In 1920 Fred purchased an "isolated tract" that became part of the lower ranch. Hope received a patent for a desert land entry in 1943 (the Bridge place). Fred had already used his right to file on a desert entry so Hope filed on the Bridge place.
Fred, 1954:
From a letter written to James Gardiner from his mother Hope Hulet Gardiner:
1960 Unknown month, Fred feels rocky
The twins are growing fine at Thanksgiving time Nathan
weighed 16 and ½ pounds and Corby weighed 18 and ½ pounds. Nathan had been operated on for hernia about
2 weeks ago before that but didn’t lose any weight. He got along fine. Gloria helped with the operation. Both Gloria and Mary work in Doctor’s
offices. Mary is working for Dr. Floyd
Cannon (Margaret Gardiner’s husband. She
is Uncle Clarence’s daughter.)
Uncle Clarence and Aunt Eva both have very poor health
now. Dad has been pretty good, for him,
the past 3 months but overdone helping Frank haul some baled hay. Frank told him take it easy but he did more
than he should and felt pretty rocky yesterday. I dread the winter when Frank
goes to school. I think I will have most
of the chores to do and I don’t hanker for the job but hope I can keep up and
do what has to be done.
(Fred dies Dec 26, 1960)
Note: Yes, we knew his ticker wasn't up to par for quite awhile. I think the Doctor told someone that Dawn should come home from her mission if she wanted to see her Dad before he died
She didn't and---as I recall--he lived quite a while (years) after that. He never made much fuss about his condition. Used to take a teaspoonful of sulfur (his own remedy) for his health. Don't know where he came up with that idea. I don't recall him taking nitroglycerin, although he must have done. He had a life of hardship, although he probably could have avoided some problems had he made different choices.
Fred Gardiner's death certificate lists the causes in a different order than his son JH. 1. myocarditis 3 or 4 years 2. sudden occlusion, instant or put another way the myocarditis led to the sudden occlusion of the heart. FG
Myocarditis or inflammatory cardiomyopathy is inflammation of heart muscle (myocardium).
Myocarditis is most often due to infection by common viruses, such as parvovirus B19, less commonly nonviral pathogens such as Borrelia burgdorferi (Lyme disease) or Trypanosoma cruzi, or as a hypersensitivity response to drugs.
The definition of myocarditis varies, but the central feature is an infection of the heart, with an inflammatory infiltrate, and damage to the heart muscle, without the blockage of coronary arteries that define a heart attack (myocardial infarction) or other common noninfectious causes.[2] Myocarditis may or may not include death (necrosis) of heart tissue. It may include dilated cardiomyopathy.
Research:
I have been trying to find out some more about the sawmills on Black Pine. The U.S. Forest Service has some information on two sawmills, one is up Sweetzer canyon and the other is up Pole Canyon. Does anyone know if Grandpa's sawmill was up Sweetzer canyon or Pole Canyon? If you know it will save me having to look through both files. N.
From M
Kent, I do remember quite well the incident about the rattlesnake
being tossed onto the hay wagon. I was on the wagon. I had
forgotten that it happened while Carol was with us. That being the
case, it was a hot afternoon in August 1936. Dad and the boys, J.H.
and Golden, were in the process of putting up the hay crop.
Alfalfa, a deep rooted perennial plant, had been planted in the big
field south of the house. When mature it has a small purple
blossom. It makes good feed for horses and cows. At this time the
alfalfa had been cut down using a horse drawn mower which was in
common use at that time and then raked into small heaps using a big
rake drawn by one horse.The alfalfa was now dry enough that it could
be added to the stack already in the stackyard.
Dad had a big wagon for hauling hay. It had 2X4's positioned along
the sides close enough to contain the hay that would be tossed into
it. The wagon was pulled by two steady old work horses. They would
stand unattended and not move a foot while the menfolk with their
pitchforks tossed hay onto the wagon. Then Dad or one of the boys
would lead them forward to a new spot.
On this particular day someone suggested that it would be a good
idea if some of us kids were to be on the wagon and tramp down the
hay as it was tossed into the wagon. If it was packed down , more
hay could be loaded.
So Dawn and I were helped up into the big wagon. I was eleven years
and Dawn was nine years old. We were having a pretty good time
tramping hay and probably had about half a load when I looked down
and right close in front of me I saw a section of a snake's body--
not moving. It's head and tail were covered with hay. (Lucky for
me). It was apparently immobilized. I told Dawn we had a snake.
She did not see it. She was on the other side of the wagon. We
really didnot get excited about it. Anyway I did not know that it
was a rattlesnake.
We did the only thing that could be done at that point. We just
stacked more hay over it and tramped it down good.
When we had a full load, the horses pulled the wagon down to the
stackyard and parked it alongside the haystack. Then with the aid
of the derrick horse, derrick and huge Jackson Fork, the hay was
lifted up from the wagon and dropped over onto the haystack. Then
someone, I think it was J.H.,saw a good sized rattlesnake in the
stackyard and disposed of it. As I recall, we were not invited to
tramp hay again.
I will add a bit more about our use of alfalfa. It was part of the
menu for the little turkeys along with oatmeal. Three times a day
we would go out to the nearby field and grab off or cut off some
alfalfa, take it into the house and cut it up and then we would
distribute it along woth oatmeal and water to each of the turkey
pens. Each mother turkey hen had her own little pen. The pen was
opened in the morning and she and her little ones were allowed to
roam freely in the yard during the day. Then in the evening she
would go back to her own pen and we woould board it up for the night
so that skunks and weasels could not get at the little turkeys.
M
I learned to read by the light of a coal-oil lamp, but think we got electricity shortly thereafter. No refrigerator: had an ice-box. They would store ice from the winter --- covering the ice above and beneath with a thick amount of sawdust; it kept well into the summer as I recall--but I could be wrong about that. Our stoves burned wood and coal. I used to sit in the wood box (for storing the wood fuel) next to the stove and "steal" the browning potatoes, as mom turned them over in the frying pan (with her unstated approvall).
Life was very basic---almost at the pioneer level, By the time I came along things had improved--just a little, but their society was so far removed from what people today view as normal, as to place them in a different frame of existence. The close interaction between man and his animals was akin to that which existed in ancient history. Not all bad---in fact the parent child relationship was probable aided somewhat by the necessity of working (hard) together. Don't know that I would wish to experience it again, but like I say---there were some positives. F.
Hi Kent, I am still waiting for information from the Forest Service. I did a Freedom of Information Act request because I thought they were giving me the run around. Hopefully within the next 60 days I will get some more information. The information that I originally received from them referred to some other sources listed as being at their office. Unfortunately, they say they can't find them. I don't think any of the sawmills on Black Pine would be powered by water. Likely they were powered by a Model T engine or something like that. When I hear anything more from the Forest Service I will share what I find out.
I also requested information on the sawmills from the Seattle office of the National Archives. They didn't find anything, but forwarded my request to the Denver office. The Denver office didn't find anything so they forwarded my request to a Washington, D.C. office. That office didn't find anything, but they have forwarded my request to another D.C. office. So it sounds like the archives are doing a thorough search.
Also, I was emailed some copies of photos by a descendent of Charles Stewart Gardiner. They were very small so I am trying to get him to send me a more detailed version that can be made larger or just a larger copy. As soon as I get that I will send them around to everyone to see if the people in the photos can be identified. N
Hi everyone, Attached is a picture of a sawmill in Pole Canyon on Black Pine (according to Forest Service). This is likely the sawmill where Frederick Gardiner acquired lumber for the structures on his homestead entry. I am still trying to find the chain of title for the sawmill to determine if this is the sawmill Frederick owned at one time. I don't know who the men are in the picture, perhaps Moroni Stone and sons (they claimed the sawmill at one time). Nathan
Also, attached is a newspaper article from the Salt Lake Tribune dated June 25, 1880. It is rather obvious that the Salt Lake Tribune was very anti-Mormon in 1880, but it does mention Robert Gardiner as one of the bakers/confectioners associated with the July 24th celebration in 1880.
Best Regards, N
Kent, I was able to go through our records and we do not have any sawmills documented in Kelsaw Canyon. This just means the Forest has not identified or recorded anything at this time. The only historic site we have recorded in the canyon is the McGill Cabin near the headwaters, which has been excavated. The former Minidoka National Forest had several small sawmill during that time. Most supported the new immigrants arriving in the area for dry land farming. One of the best know migrations was associated with the Curlew land exchange. The Forest would love to obtain any information concerning the sawmill so we can document the site. Sorry we were not able to provide you any information concerning your request.
May 20 2008:
Hi Kent, That's great! It puts me to shame. I wish I was a better
journal writer. I would definitely be interested in anything you have
or come up with. Also, you may be able to answer a couple of questions
that I have had. In the summer of 1955 your family and my family went
on a picnic with Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Frank and Gary Ottley. Does
one of the journals mention where they went, Black Pine, Elba, City of
Rocks? My mom told me it was west of Elba, but now I wonder if she was
confusing 1955 with 1957. In the summer of 1957 your family and my
family again went on a picnic. This time with Grandma and Grandpa and
Aunt Mary or Aunt Gloria. Does one of the journals mention where they
went? If you are thinking about scanning or photocopying some of the
journals. I would be willing to help with costs. Just let me know.
Thanks, N
March 22, 2010
Kent,
I was up in Malta last week. I stopped by Mary’s (left some citrus) but she didn’t answer the door or phone. I spoke with her later and she sounded good.
Dad was doing surprisingly well. Mom said the grandkids really cheer him up and he puts on his best face. Mom has been giving him lemon juice (from the Mesa citrus farm) everyday and she is convinced that has helped him a lot. He has a terrible cough that sounds like pneumonia.
I asked Dad about the little shack he lived in at USU and he said that they (JH and Dad) built it out of plywood on the back of a four-wheel wagon. He said they lived in it for 2 years and walked to school from the “trailer park” where they parked it in Logan. I asked him how they heated it and he couldn’t remember – I couldn’t imagine living in Logan without a heater. Boy did I have it good going to school when I thought I was poor!!
I guess I should say happy birthday! Thanks for all the pictures and things that you’ve sent. I especially enjoyed the information from you southern Utah trip.
I’m a little over my head lately with my new calling. M has to attend a baptism Saturday morning at about 11:00 and I have to attend the YW Broadcast at 5:00 P.M. So any time after 12:30 to about 4:00 P.M. would work for us if you want to meet somewhere.
Oh by the way. While in Malta I found out that Grandpa Fred had two violins. One of them was in Dawn’s possession and then G got it from Sid after Dawn passed away. Gloria had it fixed up and was planning on using it. Dad has another one that I’m going to have restored and return to him at our family reunion in July. Mom said it shocked her the other day to find Dad in front of the piano tuning Grandpa’s old violin. There are a lot of things I really don’t know about my Dad. Our daughter Michele brought her violin and played it for Dad while we were there.
Mary told me she never really heard her father play at a dance but she said as a girl she remembers being very sick when Grandpa came in the room and played something on his violin to cheer her up (Grandpa must have known about the healing benefits of music). I remember hearing how as a small boy Dad went to the old dance hall in Malta (or show house as we called it) and laid on a bench waiting for Grandpa to finish playing the violin. C
Kent, I was going through old emails and deleting them and came across this one. I don't think I ever responded. Fred received a patent for a homestead entry in 1914. This became part of the lower ranch at Meadow Creek. In 1917 Fred received a patent for a desert land entry. This became part of the upper ranch at Meadow Creek. In 1920 Fred purchased an "isolated tract" that became part of the lower ranch. Hope received a patent for a desert land entry in 1943 (the Bridge place). Fred had already used his right to file on a desert entry so Hope filed on the Bridge place. N
Mary said that Fred helped pay for both Charles and Clarance's missions. True? Kent 2012 Dad had a bad ticker---although I don't believe he took any legitimate medicaton to treat his condition. He did down a teaspoonful of sulfur ever day---Don't know where he got the idea that such a regimen would be beneficial. F.
Frederick and his brother Clarence both went to the LDS Business College:
2017 Flood:
