Showing posts with label Indigenous American History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indigenous American History. Show all posts

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Notes on 1856-8 Utah, Harney, etc.

There is an evil, bred of Chaos and delusions of superiority, which began in Europe and which shows up in the early American Colonies. One can see it in the government rhetoric of the Haberdasher who lived on land which was never purchased and to which its owners could not return except on pain of legal extermination.

I am speaking of Truman and the Mc Carthy hearings, the anti-protest counter-movement during Viet Nam. Itargues that the common people are miserable wretches, and without a Strongman or Strong woman to lead them by the hand can plan or do nothing, not even act upon their own feelings, develop new religions or even have cherished and legitimate culture of their own.

There was a movie and book some years ago rhat my family read with some interest called the Immigrants who came from Denmark at a time of peak mass expulsion and religious and political Genocide. This is why Brigham Young planned for the largely Scandinavian Immigrants at the time of the Mountain Meadows to come by Handcart.

The Summer Companies fared well and reached the Valley in good physical and reasonable mental condition. They had lost much, but had saved their lives and been assigned property, set to building and Irrigation projects.

Those who were driven out later, who had only arrangements intended for Pioneers of the next season, who Brigham would never have advised to start so late, where help could not be gotten to them--and Squaw Killer Harney was on the trail ahead with his first contingent of troops.

They believed promises made to the Summer Companies and fulfilled,
creating a mythology of a Prophet with larger than life qualities in whom
they could entrust their lives, who had made them sacred promises which would bring them through in good stead.

My Mortensen ancestors, most of whom were children and young boys,
believed a promise of supernatural aid intended for summer Saints who followed the plan and was never much more than a prediction of probabilities. Brigham was faced with, if Lund was correct in the Fire of the Covenent 1300 wagons on the snowy trail West and a starving Federal Army holed up for the winter at Fort Bridger with their aptly named commander, Squaw Killer Harney, a comrade in arms and purpose with Custer. and very certain to have met a gruesome end if allowed to reach the Valley.

People in the East knew this, they knew that this slender, almost girlish
Bucky Buchannon with his promises of ending the challenges of the Western lands forever by the use of such Genocidal strongman was a formula that they did not want used against white people. Many had horrified family both in the East and California and these gave the name Buchannons folly, or sometimes Buchanon's Blunder to Squaw Killer's deployment to settle the Mormon question once and for all.

The life expectancy in the urban slums to which many Scotch had been
driven was only twenty fields. Learning that my thrice Great Grandfather had three years of college which were intended to prepare him for the
Scotch Ministry, Brigham sent him South to work leaning the plethora
of Native American language. He sent his young wife and baby to the
tribe then living among the beautiful wooded high country belonging to the Panguitch Indians.

A few things have been passed down from previous generations who
were close to the Village Elders and Indian Doctors of past generations.
According to information gleaned from 3 generations of these men,
the local indians helped verify and tracking and killing 2 men who escaped as far as Las Vegas Springs, or wells. Some were slavers under
Spanish rule, and dealt with men wearing hats, according to the idiographs on the Calendar stone near the one time encampment
in Fiddlers Canyon which had an upright stone with a window cut in it
where a medicine person could stand and find the eqinoxes and solstices. My grandfather took me and Larry Dean Olson up and showed us the Sacred site, certainly pre-Escalante.

On top of the bluff there were two rocks, probably not used since the
movement of the first Yankee/European Mormon explorers to enter Cedar Valley. Led by a member of the Mormon Battalian named Jefferson Davis. He gained his skill as a Scout as one of the elder boys in a group
of shoeless orphans who wandered, as young WWII partisans did, eating what they could find to eat and sleeping in barns when farmers were kind enough to overlook them and find let them raid the rootseller or icehouse, the chickencoop--finding what they could scrim to eat.

Jefferson Davis was among the Sutter Mill War Vetran Crew who discovered Gold and he brought his sister a pair of Gold earings. These were useless to her--she had starved over that winter and had lost the baby who had been born in Nauvoo. The identity o the father was not spoken of. It may have been another child who did not go to Nauvoo with the others, she may have been victimized or eploited in return for food and a stay in a Bachelor Farmers barn.

After leading a scouting epedition looking for good townsites he founded Whittier, Caliofornia as a station on the separate Mormon Pony Express Line.

This used teenage boys and supported ranches where Mormons reared horses for use along the mail line
to the port in San Diego.
Rhoda Leach Neese, his Sister, Second wife to James Guymon married to him iin Nauvoo, later chose to share her house withMarie Boudin, a teenaged French aristocrat who ran off to America with a man who mistreated her
and abandoned her in Salt Lake.

Marie is a major Character in my novel. I put James at the Point of the mountain formost of the novel in ordernot to have to deal with him until I've gotten the serial books finished. I would love to hear from any of her descendants since I am too ill to come to Salt Lake and Environs to look for any papers she may have left behind--I have an inkling that she may have left something of interest behind.

Much Mormon History can be found in California--particularly at Riverside. I picked up Rhoda's brother's trail at the museum of the California Pioneers.

It was easy to stop off when I lived in San Francisco the last year I was well enough to do proper research.

This blog is a result of oral history--some still on tape or in the hands of my first husband's very large family. My mother had very little time for divorced men. She distroyed the Guymon material I had with a cavalier and almost sneering attitude.
I talk to hima few times a year. She told me she’d destroyed his phone number to watch my reaction. It did not occur to her that I remembered them, all she did was do more damage to the difficult relationship between us.

There were many people doing research during the Arrington Historical period, looking for leads to family organizations and elderly keepers of original documents--as promised, and as one of the last things President Hinkley did, he made sure that these materials would be at least seen by Historians again.

But whether they will have the feel for the land and people, I don't know. I found this failing even in Gene England, who did much research on the massacre. I was at the Y the years my Grandparents were excavating John D. Lee's Cooperatively owned mill
and he was collecting alot of Mountain Meadows' material along with my Children’s Book Children's writing professor who had many hundreds of hours of oral history on tape.

She would stop in any town and ask for the oldest people in town, then knock on the indicated door--a pretty writing professor from the Y with a love for children's literature. Even more she understood that Utah History, as elsewhere, is writen in blood. We are human and Human History is written in blood.

My professor told me of being a small girl and overhearing the teachers saying that her father had shot her mother and then himself. She ran home and was in her parents bedroom before anyone noticed her. This, my teacher said, is Utah History.


There is an evil, bred of Chaos and delusions of superiority, which begans in Europe and shows up in the early American Colonies. One can see it in the government rhetoric of Truman, the Haberdasher who lived on Missouri land which was never purchased and to which its owners could not return except on pain of legal extermination.

I am speaking of Truman and the Mc Carthy hearings, the anti-protest counter-movement during Viet Nam. Something in such leaders believes that the common people are miserable wretches--without a Strongman or Strong woman to lead them by the hand they can plan or do nothing, not even act upon their own feelings, develop new religions or have cherished and legitimate culture of their own.

There was a movie and book some years ago that my family read with some interest called the Immigrants. It was about Denmark at a time of peak mass expulsion Genocide. These are the years just preceding the massacre.

Brigham Young planned for the largely Scandinavian
Immigrants at the time of the Mountain Meadows to come by Handcart.

The Summer Companies fared well and reached the Valley in good physical and reasonable mental condition. They had lost much, but had saved their lives and been assigned property, set to building and Irrigation projects.

Those who were driven out later, who had only arrangements intended
for Pioneers of the next season, who Brigham would never have advised to start so late, when help could not be gotten to them. Squaw Killer Harney was on the trail ahead with his first contingent of troops.

They believed promises made to the Summer Companies and were easily fulfilled. Theirs was a mythical Prophet with larger than life qualities in whomthey could entrust their lives. They beleived sacred promises would bring them through in good stead, contrary to their or anyones common sense--certainly Brigham. E.E. Erickson’s writing on Brigham Young are very interesting here.

My Mortensen ancestors, most of whom were children and young boys, believed a promise of supernatural aid intended for summer Saints who followed the plan and was never much more than a prediction of probabilities. Brigham was faced with, if Lund was correct in the Fire of the Covenent 1300 wagons on the snowy trail West and a starving Federal Army holed up for the winter at Fort Bridger with their aptly named commander, Squaw Killer Harney, a comrade in arms and purpose with Custer.

People in the East knew this, they knew that this slender, almost girlish Bucky Buchannon with his promises of ending the challenges of the Western lands forever by the use of such Genocidal strongmen as Harney Many had horrified family both in the East and California and these gave the name
Buchannons folly, or sometimes Buchanon's Blunder to Squaw Killer's
deployment to settle the Mormon question once and for all.

I don't know if the story of the Missouri Wildcats killing one or more Indian women and poisoning wells was true--it is possible that it was a legend born of Squaw Killer's name itself.

It was said to be true by a normally reliable BYU history professor who grew up near there. Could I ever suggest to my sublings and cousins that Brigham had promised, probably, that those with means might sacrifice their wagons and go by handcart, thus providing their desperate urban co-religionists a means of escaping the fate that faced those who remained in Europe. Brigham’s plan and promise was intended for sunny days and grassy flowery fields. The life expectancy in the urban slums to which many Scotch had been driven was only twenty five.

My thrice Great Grandfather had lost four children to a herpetic epidemic the year before he came to America. He had had three years of college which were intended to prepare him for the Scotch Ministry, Brigham sent him South to work leaning the plethoraof Native American language.

His son was sent, with his young wife and baby to the tribe then living among the beautiful wooded high country belonging to the Panguitch Indians. A few things have been passed down to me from previous generations who
were close to the Village Elders and Indian Doctors of past generations.

According to information gleaned from 3 generations of men who felt a call to work with the Indians, the local indians helped in tracking and killing 2 men who escaped as far as Las Vegas Springs, or wells. That was their only involvement. They probably undressed the men for buriel for what they might be carrying in their pockets--this would have included verifying whether they were dead or not.

I don't know if the story of the Missouri Wildcats killing one or more
Indian women and poisoning wells was true--it is possible that it was a
legend born of Squaw Killer's name itself. It was said to be true by
a normally reliable BYU history professor who grew up near there. Could I ever suggest to my sublings and cousins that Brigham had promised, probably, that those with means might sacrifice their wagons and go by handcart, thus providing their desperate urban co-religionists a means of escaping the fate that was faced those who remained in Europe. It was a promise intended for sunny days and grassy flowery fields and to deny it is a such indication of impiety.

Brigham-The Mastermind, Ringleader-Myth

There is an evil, bred of Chaos and delusions of superiority,
which began in Europe and which shows up in the early
American Colonies. One can see it in the government
rhetoric of the Haberdasher who lived on land which was
never purchased and to which its owners could not return
except on pain of legal extermination.

I am speaking of Truman and the Mc Carthy hearings, the
anti-protest counter-movement during VeIt Nam.
It believes that the common people are miserable wretches,
and without a Strongman or Strong woman to lead them by the
hand can plan or do nothing, not even act upon their own feelings,
develop new religions or even have cherished and legitimate
culture of their own. Brigham Young was not generally tyranical
or heavy handed. He knew what comes around goes around,
particularly with Indians not corrupted by the Spanish.
One wonders whether the marrying French, the Genocidal,
or lands who fell under Spanish law and whose fringe buyers
did not heed it's protections--which harmed the surviving
Indigenous Americans most greiviously.

In terms of lives it was the pathigenic microbes, but I
mean something
that cannot be described by maps and numbers here.

There was a movie and book some years ago That my family read with some interest called the Immigrants who came from Denmark at a time of peak mass expulsion and religious and political Genocide.

This is why Brigham Young planned for the largely Scandinavian
Immigrants at the time of the Mountain Meadows to come by Handcart.
The Summer Companies fared well and reached the Valley in good
physical and reasonable mental condition. They had lost much, but
had saved their lives and been assigned property, set to building
and Irrigation projects.

Those who were driven out later, who had only arrangements intended
for Pioneers of the next season, who Brigham would never have advised
to start so late, where help could not be gotten to them--and Squaw Killer
Harney was on the trail ahead with his first contingent of troops.

They believed promises made to the Summer Companies and fulfilled,
creating a mythology of a Prophet with larger than life qualities in whom
they could entrust their lives, who had made them sacred promises which
would bring them through in good stead.

M Mortensen ancestors, most of whom were children and young boys,
believed a promise of supernatural aid intended for summer Saints
who followed the plan and was never much more than a prediction of
probabilities. Brigham was faced with, if Lund was correct in the
Fire of the Covenent 1300 wagons on the snowy trail West and a starving
Federal Army holed up for the winter at Fort Bridger with their aptly
named commander, Squaw Killer Harney, a comrade in arms and purpose
with Custer. and very certain to have met a gruesome end if
allowed to reach the Valley.

People in the East knew this, they knew that this slender, almost girlish
Bucky Buchannon with his promises of ending the challenges of the
Western lands forever by the use of such Genocidal strongman was a
formula that they did not want used against white people. Many had
horrified family both in the East and California and these gave the name
Buchannons folly, or sometimes Buchanon's Blunder to Squaw Killer's
deployment to settle the Mormon question once and for all.

I don't know if the story of the Missouri Wildcats killing one or more
Indian women and poisoning wells was true--it is possible that it was a
legend born of Squaw Killer's name itself. It was said to be true by
a normally reliable BYU history professor who grew up near there.
Could I ever suggest to my sublings and cousins that Brigham had
promised, probably, that those with means might sacrifice their
wagons and go by handcart, thus providing their desperate urban
co-religionists a means of escaping the fate that was faced those
who remained in Europe. It was a promise intended for sunny
days and grassy flowery fields.

The life expectancy in the urban slums to which many Scotch
had beendriven was only twenty fields. Learning that my thrice
Great Grandfather had three years of college which were intended
to prepare him for theScotch Ministry, Brigham sent him South to work
leaning the plethora
of Native American language. He sent his young wife and baby to the
tribe then living among the beautiful wooded high country belonging to
the Panguitch Indians.

A few things have been passed down from previous generations who
were close to the Village Elders and Indian Doctors of past generations.
According to information gleaned from 3 generations of these men,
the local indians helped verify and tracking and killing 2 men who
escaped as far as Las Vegas Springs, or wells. Some were slavers under
Spanish rule, and dealt with men wearing hats, according to the idiographs
on the Calendar stone near the one time encampment
in Fiddlers Canyon which had an upright stone with a window cut in it
where a medicine person could stand and find the eqinoxes and solstices.
My grandfather took me and Larry Dean Olson up and showed
us the Sacred site, certainly pre-Escalante.

On top of the bluff there were two rocks, probably not used since the
movement of the first Yankee/European Mormon explorers to enter
Cedar Valley. Led by a member of the Mormon Battalian named
Jefferson Davis. He gained his skill as a Scout as one of the elder
boys in a groupof shoeless orphans who wandered, as the young WWII
partisans did, eating what they could find to eat and sleeping in barns
when farmers were kind enough to overlook them and find what they
could scrim to eat.

He later founded Whittier, Caliofornia, as a station on the separate
Mormon Pony Express Line, which used teenage boys and ranches
where Mormons lived and reared horses for use along the mail line
to the port in San Diego. He was the brother of Rhoda Leach Neese,
Second wife to James Guymon who later married Marie Boudin, a
teenage french aristocrat who ran off with a man who mistreated her
and abandoned her in Salt Lake. She is a major Character in my novel.
I put James at the Point of the mountain for most of the novel in order
not to have to deal with him until I've gotten the serial books finished.

Much Mormon History can be found in California--particularly at
Riverside, I picked up Rhoda's brother's trail at the museum of the
California Pioneers, where it was easy to stop off when I lived in
San Francisco the last year I was well enough to do proper research.
This blog is a result of oral history--some still on tape or in the hands
of my first husband's very large family.

My mother had very little time for men who are divorced by their wives
and distroyed the Guymon material I had. There were many people
doing research during the Arrington Historical period, looking for
leads to family organizations and elderly keepers of original documents--
as promised, and as one of the last things President Hinkley did, he made
sure that these materials would be at least seen by Historians again.

But whether they will have the feel for the land and people, I don't know.
I found this failing as I saw it in Gene England the years my Grandparents
were excavating John D. Lee's Cooperatively owned mill
and he was collecting alot of Mountain Meadows' material along with my
Children's writing professor who had many hundreds off hours of oral history
on tape. She would just stop in any town and ask for the oldest people in town,
then knock on the indicated door, a pretty writing professor from the Y with a
love for children's literature, but with an understanding that Utah History,
even if not so much as elsewhere, iswriten in blood. We are human.
Human history is written in blood.

i found this among my Google Alerts but haven't retraced my tracks yet,
this is what was on the public web. It took a few years for the newspapers
to learn of the massacre, and I think that was all that was
intended. The main war was to the North and involved the Utes who were
brave warriors, the Guymons and Jewkes and other East Coast,
light skinned Indians were trying to keep them in hand. Bucky Buchannon
was being conciliatory and had sent a more restrained, smaller army the
Utes wanted blood to pay them for tribal members killed during Squaw
Killer's failed attempt to get to Utah.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

On the land where, once, nothing was long ago

I have been musing on my ancestral family. Most were in Cedar or Parowan in 1857. There was little mention of my Great, Great, Grandfather when his wife was deeply embedded in an Indian Tribe with her young children. Daniel Matheson would have probably picked up the Indigenous languages quickly, he had had three years of college at St. Andrews in Edinborough.

He, I then presume, would have had a familiarity with Scots Gaelic, English, Latin and Greek, perhaps some French. So, Brigham very likely sent him to live among the Indians to pick up their languages. Jacob Hamblin spoke Hopi, Navaho and what anthropologists call Uto-Aztecan. What the Feds called Injun. They called themselves Pa or pi--meant the people of the ede, which was a suffix meaning water.

A clover when stressed, bore large seeds, kept water where, in the valleys, its nitrogen rich roots mixed with the edible roots of a large seeded tall grass called faleris. The valley was the meeting ground of Shoshone, Piedes, and other peoples, excluding the Utes. The border between land claimed by the Spanish and the land claimed by the Utes, was a swath a few hundreds of miles North of Parowan. Many birds sang there, mushrooms lined the creeks, and what we ploughed dried up and between our rows of wheat, blew away on the wind.

Grandpa said they laughed at our foolishness, but there came, in 1857, a deep drought and we took to running sheep which dried the land farther. Among the accusations made by Buchanon was that, in fewer words, we were going Indian.
We needed someone to teach us how to treat our Indians--Squaw killer Harney being his first choice. He'd made such a reputation for himself with the Eastern tribes going on to the Sioux.

After the Meadows, when all the houses in Salt Lake were set to light by young boys, Pa Snow's generation in Dad's war, Harney was sent back East. In any Democracy, it's an embarrassment when the Governed make a great deal of noise about the replacement of their elected Governor with someone so odious to them that they'd leave them nothing but scorched Earth.
Gibbs cites this as proof of fanaticism.

So, for their fanaticism, they got a Governor named Cummings.
I think it may have been the Mormon writer Vardis Fisher (so this is Apocrypha) who had Brother Brigham take his replacement around to catch the stragglers, leaving the city to Pa Snow's generation and their torches.

I'm not sure that Cummings shed tears. He ordered his Army to skirt the settlement--make their camp on the dry Western sides of the valleys--in Salt Lake City, Beaver City where the Federal Court was to be, and Cedar City to ride heard on us and our Nauvoo legion, who had used the Federal Army to ferret out the men who used Brother Joseph, the Prophet, for target
practice, plugging him with 40 pistol balls.

When the Mountain Meadows Generation passed on, leaving
their treasures to my Great Grandfather, later to my Grandpa's second hand store, they left many of their hunting rifles, seldom turned to war.

Since I havn't been back home--I've been too ill, but dearly missed it, I can see each weapon, back to Spanish Casle key guns, women's tiny garter guns's, a priest's rock amulet. Blessed, those who have passed on--how much we love then despite their errors and many defeats.

There is a time when John D. Lee--or someone, I'm writing from memory, asks a young translator to bring the Santa Clara Indians around. My Great-Great Grandfather might have been so described at that time, he was young, he followed orders.

I suspect Dear President Hinkley produced an apology, thorough two younger intermediaries, while genuous, was intended for airing overseas. We take as few lives as possible, as many prisoners as possible. In those days, not so long ago we hated the Eastern Press, and blamed it for our sufferings. I
suspect that there were 8-12 Missouri Wildcats taking turns brandishing the porcelain gun who they said killed our prophet.

Most were probably killed on the first night and were buried in the pit in the center of their laager. It may have been no Piute who killed them, but the sharpshooting personal guard of Joseph Smith who went to guarding Brother Brigham.

My friend who ate Oatmeal said of Cherokee traditions of torture that they hated to do it, but their lands were coveted by
surrounding tribes, whose land was not so rich. They felt it neccesary to make them fear them, and they had strong magick.
He said that they tied the warrior between two trees and cut a shallow line between his collar bones and groin. There was a
special fly--I suspect a mosquito-- that was drawn to the mosture, it lay it's eggs in the trench, directly into the circulatory system. The flap of skin sealed and the man's kin believed him to be killed by magic. His grandfather believed that the fly lay its eggs, which hatched young so small that they passed into the brain causing great suffering.

As in the British Mills, the bran and germ of the decimating wheat, went to the dogs and poor, with suet mixed in for the dogs. The rule back home with dogs was working dogs only. That was because the bran and germ went to compensate the Indians for the ruin of their lush vallies .

Compensate, hell, we just didn't know our place. So they put the Indians on land that was not arable. There was more water than is there today, but it wasn't land where anything could be grown.

My Great Great grandmother scared off quite a large band of Indians who had come to borrow some wheat flower. She crawled under a bed and rocked the baby's cradle from there.
The Indians looked in the window and saw only the cradle,
rocking, and they yelped and ran away. This was a story
Grandpa told me in the car going to the doctor in Salt Lake.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Good Wonders

This is my Grandfather's term.

Synonyms: A likely thought, interesting, possibly, probably, I don't know but it's likely thought/good wonder, probable hypothesis, likely hypothesis, good hypothesis.

Antonyms: Not likely . . . explanation. I don't figure so.

I wish he were still alive. He developed FMS about the same time I did--when I was nine. This was a pandemic year for what was then called Royal Free Disease after an
Epidemic involving three hundred people associated with The Royal Free Clinic in New South Wales. Studies have shown it to be very similar to various post war diseases and syndromes, some of which are mediated by familial genetics, or the cluster of pathogens transmitted at birth from parents to children.

Severity may be a function of genetic factors, particularly when generations share a
factor which damages the immune system or causes severity through exposure to
major carcinogens or mutagens, or as in the case of the British Millers Disease,
known to run in the families of millers, who worked with grain or flour infested by rodents. My Grandfather and Greatgranfather worked in the ZIon's Cooperative Association Mill in Cedar Canyon.

The Church had a miller who also was a fiddler who was married to my Great Grandmother. She must have loved him. Maybe she could sing, I've never heard.
She traveled with him during her childbirthing years and moved 22 times in
one five year period. Then she wanted to settle down, so she built a small house
with the help of her boys and her oldest daughter, Hannah Gibbs, born in about
1854 in Europe, she was Danish, but Gibbs doesn't sound like a Danish name to me.

Hannah's father joined the Church, but did not continue on to join the Wiily's or Martin Handcart company. Micah Martina Margretta Martina Gibbs Peterson
Elder Smith was a strongly built and robust woman who ran the Post Office during
a Small Pox epidemic when she was Eighty so her youngest daughter could take
her daughters into quarenteen. This was when being Post Mistress involved handling
grain and after the railroad came through, heavy catalogue items.

My Greatgrandmother lost two boys, leaving her with four girls. My grandmother
was strongly built, so to preserve the femininity of the others, she helped her father
with haying and other very heavy work. He died of Typhus when she was thirteen.
He was not robust and suffered from allergies.

The church established Benificial Life and tried to get church members to join. There was a painfull controversy about whether women known to have the sight should qualify. When she saw the death of her husband she realized that she didn't know
where her insurance papers were. She passed her time in waiting, praying that for
once her lights had failed her, and finally found the Insurance papers between the
leaves of a book. This is evidence of the truth of one of my favorite axioms--if you
lose something, really lose it, it's always nearby and probably in the most obvious
place. I am privileged to be old enough to have been held in her arms. She died
in French Camp, California when I was an infant.

I guess that's why I get a strange sense sometimes. I wasn't thinking about the sequahennial anniversity of the Mountain Meadows Massacre when I began this
blog. I had a huge abscess beneath my psoas muscle--after it burst and had
drained through a little rubber catheter the casing was oblong--big enough to
show the darker outline of a number of vertebrae and a large section of large
intestine.

I had a 5MK kidney stone that encapsulated my kidney, concealing it from
the CTT Scan. This ruptured when the radiological surgeon began to work
on the stone. Actually, those in the vacinity all agreed that it exploded. The
noise was so loud that it drew a number of those in the vacinity to mull
over what you call it when that happens. M.E.--sometimes called Post M.E.
in the old British Commonwealth Countries--kills, when it does kill
because there is so much pain that the patient doesn't know when to
call pain, even when localized, an event. I barely made it to the hospital
because the HMO nurses would not put me in contact with the Doctor.
If you call an Ambulance too often, well, it's like crying "wolf."

I've had this for nigh onto 30 years, so far as the time that has passed
since the onset of severe Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.

I suspect that researchers, descendents and church and civil beaurocrats
will be talking about the Monument and the gravesites at the Meadows.
The one on the site matches many other registered monuments throughout
Utah that my Grandparents, Children, and Grandchildren built. You
can't see the beauty of the rocks used from the photos on the Fancher
family site. And I havn't gotten to see them. My Grandmother had died
during a Priesthood blessing before the Monumentment was built.
{My light just blinked off and on again.] I'm sure she is pleased to see
the recognition of our dismal humanity that the Monument represents.

I wish those involved had built it in time for her to help, but she
did throw her weight behind it. Whatever the contention that caused
in town, and she did detest bickering and contention. I think
the site could use some picknic tables and campfire pits, but
then there is the peoblem of Coyotes. There are probably hundred
of small graves containing remains not identifiable by denomination.