Part 4

My Grandpa Stickney had lived in Santaquin all his life.  He was a farmer.  He was a tall man with a sense of humor.  He had a lot of land that he farmed.  He planted a vegetable garden for Grandma and she took care of it, while he had many acres of wheat and oats and hay and pasture ground.  They had trees with every kind of fruit - (apples, peaches, pears, prunes, etc.)  They had cows which had to be taken care of.  After the milking, the girls in the family had to herd the cows to pasture for the day, and bring them home at night for milking.  They also had to feed the pigs, the young calves, the colts.  They had to work from early morning until after dark.  Farm life was a hard, tiring, necessary life.  Everyone in the family had a job to do every day.  Grandpa (Jody, we called him), said one time, "First thing I do when I get up in the morning is sit down and have myself a big long rest."

While Grandpa was still a young man, he married Leatha May Taylor.  Her family was from South Carolina.  Her father had been a soldier during the Civil War.  He had been severely wounded and left on the battlefield for dead.  He had crawled on his stomach and knees for many days, eating out of garbage cans and horse troughs and wherever he found anything at all edible.  He just barely kept himself alive until the war was over.  Then he brought his family to Utah, and settled in Payson.  I saw him once.  He was sitting in an arm chair with both hands closed over a cane that he held up in front of him.  He had an abundance of snow white hair, both on his head and his chin.  His beard hung nearly to his stomach, and it was combed and slightly curly.  His mustache was neatly trimmed and when he smiled his white teeth could be seen.  His wife, my great-grandma, stood behind his chair with her hand on the back of it.  She was a very stern, unhappy looking woman with white hair.  She was very thin and cross looking.  Her very hard life showed on her face.  She was my great-grandmother.  Her daughter, Leatha May Taylor was my grandmother.  She married Joseph Stickney and they lived in Santaquin, Utah.

Part 3

Grandpa told us about an accident that happened to his father during the days that this little settlement was trying to survive.  His father and another settler had up their horses and gone up Santaquin Canyon to get a load of logs for winter.  They cut down trees, trimmed off the smaller branches, and loaded the logs on their wagon and set out for home.  The road was not very wide, and the canyon walls were tall and steep.  Halfway down, out of the canyon,  a snowslide came down, burying horses and wagon and both men.  It was impossible to get them out until the snow melted enough so they could clear off the roads, and that didn't happen until spring.