by Ruth May Fox
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PREPARATORY NOTE
This story of the life of Ruth May Fox is presented in autobiographic form because so much of it is the work of her own pen. When the Y.L.M.I.A. adopted as a feature of its program the keeping of personal records and provided uniform binders with the title, Treasure of Truth, Ruth May fox filled two volumes with her personal record, important letters, newspaper clippings and miscellaneous mementos. Her children have provided from memory, checked against her own, some portions that she had omitted. Where the writing was not literally her own, it was written by her son, Feramorz Y. Fox, and read several times to her for amendment or correction. As it stands now, it is her own story, and in the judgment of her children, a rather modest summary of a long and useful life.
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TABLE of CONTENTS
1. MY KIN 2. INFANCY and EARLY CHILDHOOD 3. I FIND a MOTHER and a SISTER 4. FROM ENGLAND to the LAND of PROMISE 6. PROSPERITY 7. ADVERSITY 10. POSITIONS in CHURCH AUXILIARIES 11. M.I.A. TRAILS 13. TO the END of the M.I.A. TRAIL 14. RETIREMENT YEARS APPENDIX : AS OTHERS SEE HER
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Chapter 1
Every individual has a background, illustrious or otherwise, which seems to play an important part in the summing up of his character.
In my own case I make no claim to any unusual setting but, like Nephi, I can say, “I was born of goodly parents.” James May, my grandfather on the paternal side, was born 27 January 1803, in Bradford on Avon, Wiltshire, England. He married Esther Blackmore. I have not the date of their marriage but I know she was born in the same town on 17 November 1797. They had eight children: George, Eliza, Samuel, James, John, Ruth, Sarah and another Eliza named after the first Eliza who was burned to death when she was six years old. Grandfather was employed in the woolen mills and was a good work man. Nevertheless, I fear that his family life was not what it should have been. The rigid enforcement of the British Corn Laws in his time and the fact that Grandfather spent too much of his wages on beer made the matter of raising a family exceedingly difficult.
I have heard my father say that when he was a small boy Grandmother would often arise from her bed at four o’clock in the morning and go out to clean a nearby tavern to earn a little money with which to buy a loaf of bread for the family breakfast. She was a good woman and a good mother, often taking blows on her bare arms that were intended for her children. On one occasion, when with three or four little ones, she was going to the Poorhouse, having been turned out of the house they lived in because they couldn’t pay the rent, she was heard to exclaim, “There’s a host behind and a sea before and rocks on either hand.”
My grandfather on the maternal side was Thomas Harding. He was born in 1806 at Melksham, Wiltshire, England. His wife, Edith Guley, was born in 1809 in the same town. She was of a very religious nature and I have heard that there were ministers in her family. I cannot name their children in order but I have heard my father speak of Alfred, Ephraim, James and Fred. The two latter came to America, although they were scarcely more than boys, and joined the army at the time of the Civil War, taking sides with the North. There were three daughters that I know of, Emma, Eliza, and Mary Ann who became my mother.
My father, James May, was born in 3 July 1829 in Bradford on Avon. My mother, Mary Ann Harding, was born 20 December 1834 in Melksham, Wiltshire, England. Father began work before he was eight years old, sometimes having to walk three miles before six o’clock in the morning when, childlike, he was afraid of the dark. Blows at
the least provocation were his recompense. He had very little schooling but he loved to read and was blessed with a good memory. I have heard him tell how he used to cry over the story of Joseph as he read it in the Bible. This sacred book was about the only one available at that time.
When he was a mere lad he ran away from home and went, I believe, into Wales to work in the coalmines; there he first heard the Gospel spoken of by a companion miner. He must later have come back to Wiltshire and resumed work in one of the mills for he became expert in his line. I have not the date of his marriage to my mother but I was the first child and was born 16 November 1853 in Westbury, Wiltshire. When I was five months old my parents accepted Mormonism and were baptized. Unfortunately for me, my mother died when I was sixteen months old. Her death followed, by about two weeks, the birth of a second child, a girl, I think, who also passed away.
My father became active in the local branch of the Church and was for some time a Traveling Elder, going without purse or script, holding street meetings and facing the bitter opposition so common at that time. He told me how he had predicted, after he and his companion had been turned from several doors and were greatly discouraged, that they would have food and lodging for the night. Finally a lady took them in and showed them to a bedroom upstairs but said nothing about supper. After rather a long wait, when Father had begun to fear that his prediction would be only half fulfilled, the lady brought up a loaf of bread under her apron, apparently not wanting her husband to know of her extravagant hospitality. So they appeased their hunger with bread and water from the wash pitcher.
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Chapter 2
My mother died when I was a baby; so Father had to find someone to take care of me, and apparently this was no easy task. He was very desirous that I should grow up to be a Latter-day Saint and none of his family or my mother’s were sympathetic with the “New Religion”. So he had to do the best he could and as a result I had many homes. Sometimes I lived with my relatives and sometimes with friends. I am indebted to my father for much of the information I am about to write. Seven different environments before I was eight years old should have spoiled the child, perhaps they did. One of our lodging places, as they were called, was with two old ladies; Mrs. Orum was the name of one of them. I was to be brought up on the Mormon Plan, drinking no tea or coffee. Father would tell me it was nasty stuff; but sometimes when he came home from work he was greeted with the exclamation, “Daddy, it isn’t natty ‘tuff, it isn’t natty ‘tuff.”
It was about this time that I received my first and only whipping. I was told to pick up my toys and not doing so, Father made me change my mind by giving me a good spanking. While I do not remember this individual incident, I think it was effective, for Father’s look was, ever after, sufficient to remind me that I had better be careful. I do faintly remember living with a Mormon, Sister Hannah Hart, and later with a Miss Clark who taught me the Mormon Catechism and many scriptural passages. In fact, I could repeat word for word the sixth chapter of Ephesians when I was eight years old. I also lived with one of my father’s sisters for a time. Once, while he was a Traveling Elder, he took me down to Bristol and put me to live with a good sister, Mrs. Watkins, who afterward came to Zion and lived in Ogden.
Still later I lived with my grandmother May. And here I should add that Father used to send my board money to her on rent day so that she should be sure of shelter. A part of the town of Bradford was built on a terraced hill overlooking the river Avon. Whenever we went down into the business section we crossed a bridge spanning this beautiful stream. I well remember the river and the lovely swans that floated on it. Grandmother would take me for a walk sometimes past a gentleman’s home and grounds where I could see over the wall a statue that we called the Leaden Lady, then down the hill into the lowlands where stood an old church with gravestones around it, then on to the great, broad fields of buttercups, daisies, primroses and cowslips. Of the latter, the children used to make round balls that they called tisty tosties. I remember our Sunday school teacher taking the children to those same fields and how we gathered in little groups and pointed to the distant hills where great giants with eyes as big as saucers lived. It was on such a walk as this that I have a faint recollection of Grandmother pulling me off the railroad track just as a train was coming toward me. I think I was a trial to poor Grandmother. I was visiting one day, so I have been told, when for some reason or other I bit a piece out of a real china saucer. Once I was complaining at what I had to eat and when asked what I wanted I answered, “A beefsteak and a glass of beer.” However, I do not think that beefsteak and beer formed my regular diet.
I will now tell some things that I can recall from my own memory. I was sick and Grandmother tried every imaginable way to make me take a pill. As a last resort she put it in some bread and milk, but alas, murder will out; I can still see that pill coming into sight but I don’t remember ever swallowing it. Then my hair was very curly and consequently kinky and so hard to comb that Grandmother’s supply of combs was soon wrecked. Finally she bought a horse comb for my special use. This same hair got me into another scrape. I was sent upstairs carrying a candle in my hand and the first thing I knew I was running to the top of the stairs screaming, “Grandmother! Grandmother! My head’s on fire!” Poor Grandmother! Up the stairs she came flying and extinguished my blazing hair with her bare hands. I do not remember whether the other side of my hair was cut off or not. I suppose it was. At any rate, one side of my hair has always been a little more difficult to manage than the other.
Of course, I was sent to school. I don’t remember anything about it, only that I went with a tiny basket in my hand holding my lunch. I also remember playing truant one Monday morning because Grandmother could not give me two pence-hapenny for my week’s schooling and I could not face the teacher. So I wandered around the church until some lady found me and took me into her home and asked me all kinds of questions. How truthfully I answered them I do not know but Grandmother was sent for and I was taken home.
I have a very faint recollection of going with my grandmother into a little dark shop where I think she went to pawn her shawl when she was obliged to take this means of procuring a few pennies for urgent need and of going again to redeem it.
Once I rummaged among Grandmother’s belongings and found one of her bonnets, an old one I presume, and took the ribbon off it to give to one of my playmates; also a nice little hair brush with a mirror on the back and a comb that shut in like a pocket knife was one of my generous gifts to my friends. I am quite sure I was not whipped for these misdemeanors but something must have happened to impress me or I should not remember them.
Strange how forgotten incidents are crowding into my memory. Grandfather bought some dark, stiff material to make Grandmother a dress and there being a piece left, it was made up for me. I think I had a black silk cape too, with narrow velvet ribbon run around it. I know I wore a little green silk bonnet with a pink screed, which you may be sure I was very proud of. I have a faint recollection of being taken to a little home, where in a small room two elders seemed to be having a farewell party. They were going back to Zion and the company sang “O Babylon, We Bid Thee Farewell!” which I never forgot, indeed I must have learned it word for word, for it seems to me I have always known it. I was also impressed very much, when a little girl, with the hymn:
I think, when I read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here among men, How He called little children like lambs to His fold; I should like to have been with Him then.
I wish that His hands had been placed on my head, That His arms had been thrown around me, That I might have seen His kind look when He said, “Let the little ones come unto me.”
Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go, And ask for a share in His love; And if I thus earnestly seek Him below, I shall see Him and hear Him above.
And in my heart I meant every word of it.
Across the road from Grandmother’s home was a wall, not so high but what we children could sit on it and look down on the other side into a yard where men and women were carrying strands of hemp back and forth making rope. It was on this wall that I sometimes sat and told the children of the neighborhood how my father was coming to take me away with him and that he was a gentleman. This came about because when he came to see me he was usually dressed in his Sunday best, which meant a silk hat, patent leather shoes and perhaps a cane. Money and position made ‘gentlemen,’ to whom in those days we curtsied as they passed us. Father was a young widower, rather good looking, and no doubt could have married a second time sooner than he did; but he told me when I grew older that he was afraid he might marry someone who would not be kind to me and the last thing that my mother had said was, “Take care of Ruth.”
This is the story of my life until I was almost eight years of age. So you can understand why Grandmother exclaimed when Father came to take me away, “She’s a bad maid, she’s a bad maid.”
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Chapter 3
“Thee’ll go to Salt Lake and old Brigham”ll have thee,” my Grandfather would say to me sometimes when he knew my Father was coming to take me into Yorkshire where he was then employed. Here it is only just to say, that with all his faults, Grandfather was always kind to me and petted me considerably and doubtless dreaded very much to see me leave on a journey that would eventually end in Salt Lake; nevertheless, we were soon on our way. It was something over 200 miles from Wiltshire to Yorkshire and we traveled by train. How wonderful it was and how fast the telegraph poles seemed to pass! By and by, a good lady gave me a big piece of gooseberry pie, which made me train sick. The rest of the journey was not so pleasant.
At last we reached our destination and I was taken to the little city of Yeadon to live with my father who was boarding with a Mrs. Saxton. This good lady had a little daughter, Clara, only five months younger than I; she was an only child and was well cared for. Soon I was fitted out from top to toe with clothes as nearly like hers as possible. And what little girl does not like new clothes? Lady friends of Father’s had given him finery for his little girl – two pretty broaches and a pair of crocheted double flounces for my pantalets which, as was the style, hung far below my dress; also two bead collars. Of course, I wore hoops, ever so large; so you may be sure I was a vain little girl.
This change meant an entirely different environment for me. Father was now my guardian, and in some respects my teacher. You see, I was all that he had and he was quite proud of me and my curls. He liked to show me off and have me repeat from memory the sixth chapter of Ephesians, beginning:
It pleased him immensely to hear me pronounce principalities, and I was pleased too. I was sent to school with my new companion and to the Church of England Sunday school. The teacher of the latter gave me a little book of several pages that I was to commit to memory and then go to the minister’s home to be questioned. She also gave me a four-ribbon bookmark especially made for the prayer book, which I still have.
Naturally my newfound friend and I were much together and like most children we did not always agree. One of our duties was to go some distance each day for the milk. When I thought I had carried it far enough I would set the bucket down and declare I would not carry it another step and off we would both go and leave it, but being afraid of a scolding I invariably went back for it. O the troubles of childhood! I seemed to be always in trouble.
We girls slept upstairs and, occasionally, on the floor. One night in particular I was unable to untie my leather shoe string; so rather than call downstairs for help, I decided to go to bed and leave that foot on the outside as I could not think of soiling the sheets with my shoe. In that position I went to sleep and every time I moved that foot made a rattle on the floor, till at last the whole household was up hunting for rats. Clara was a real tease and it was a long time before I heard the last of that episode. It was, “Diddle, diddle dumpling, my son John, went to bed with one shoe on,” and all the rest of it. One day someone gave me a three penny silver piece. I was so pleased with it that when Father came home I exclaimed, “O, Father!”, but alas, I had put the money in my mouth and down my throat it went.
Another day Clara and I were mangling clothes and I insisted that I should have a chance at feeding the rollers, as I usually turned the machine; this time I got my way and soon my hand was going in between the rollers. I cried, “Stop! Stop! Clara!” but she did not understand. I gave my hand one grand pull and left the nails and caps of two fingers as clean as a whistle on a tablecloth. When Father came home I was hiding my hand under the table and Mrs. Saxton explained that I was afraid of a scolding; but he said merely, “I think the poor child has had enough.”
While attending school in Yeadon, I got acquainted with two little boys about my own age; the name of one was Mortimer and the other was Mergurtroyd. I was never supposed to play with boys – I should never do a thing like that. Nevertheless, I was quite impressed with these two boys, their names especially, and I used to soliloquize whether I should like to be Mrs. Mortimer or Mrs. Mergurtroyd. It was about this time that I began to philosophize on religion and how I ought to live. I had learned from my Sabbath School teaching about deathbed repentance and as I was sure I wanted a good time I decided that when I was about to die I would ask God to forgive me and go right straight to heaven. I made up my mind also that I did not want to marry a minister; they were altogether too sober.
About this time Mrs. Saxton decided to leave her husband as he was very unkind to her; indeed, she had left him once before and earned her own living for four years. So she moved to the little town of Canada, about a mile away, which was really nothing more than one long row of houses. It was separated from Yeadon by several enclosed fields where grass grew luxuriantly. In the season thereof, men were busy making hay, as they termed it. It seems as though I can smell the fragrance of those hay fields even now and still hear the cuckoo’s song. Every school day we girls must walk through these fields and over the stiles to school in Yeadon and often we carried a large basket of muffins to regular customers for Clara’s great grandmother who made them as a means of helping to earn a livelihood. While making one of these trips we met Clara’s father who commanded us to put the basket down. He then took Clara by the hand and told me to take the basket home. This I did not do; those muffins must be delivered no matter what happened. So I trailed along behind until he and Clara were out of sight and then I delivered my previous burden and reported my tale of woe after school. About two weeks after this affair I was instructed to tell the teacher what had happened and arrange for Clara to run away from school and rejoin her mother. On a certain day I was to meet her in the fields and tell her to run as fast as she could, that her mother was watching from the upstairs window and would come and meet her as soon as she came in sight. Don’t you think that was an exciting moment for two little girls? I can see Clara now as I met her standing like a fawn at bay, her great wide open eyes looking this way and that to see if she was being followed.
Well, such is life. My father’s work was so far away from home that he only visited us at weekends. He would take food with him to last to the middle of the week and I used to take some to his lodgings to last the rest of the time. When he worked nearer home I took his lunch to the mill when, though I had eaten mine, he would divide with me and talk to me kindly and seriously about my future and the kind of woman he wanted me to become. I was ten years old then and had learned to carry a bucket of water or a stone of flour on my head. It was a real job too, but that was the custom in Yorkshire. The spring was quite a distance away and sometimes if we did not have rainwater we must carry water for washing purposes.
At the upper end of the row of houses where we lived was a chapel; the members were known as Methodist-Ranters. Here it was that I now went to Sabbath School and where we had to sit still or get a rap on the head with a rod about six feet long, held by a man who used to stand and keep order. There too, I had the privilege of learning to “speak pieces”. A Quaker gentleman was our instructor and was very good. I was taught the May Queen and some other readings as well as having a part in the dialogue: “The Seven Colors of the Rainbow”. I enjoyed this immensely and it brought me considerable fame. I spoke my piece in the grocery shop and in many other places. Even the minister came to the home occasionally and took me to Bradford to say my piece at socials. On one of these occasions we met a Brother Gibson who was doing missionary work in England. Hearing me recite, he remarked that his wife was an actress in Salt Lake City and when I got to Zion I might also go on the stage; which saying I did not forget.
As my reward I was given a Bible by the Sunday School. One might think that a Bible was not an appropriate gift for a child but it was my choice among other prizes. A trip to Bolton with the Sunday School was also on the program which was a wonderful treat for me. We went on a lovely day in a big conveyance to a beautiful place for a picnic. There were broad fields and trees, a turbulent creek that came tumbling down over the boulders. We indulged in games and sports and were given buns to eat. There was only one draw back, I was dressed to the nines and was warned not to get a spot on my new dress; which of course, I did. A green spot from the grass was in plain sight and bothered me quite a bit. But it seems as I look back that I was always in trouble; or else I was so sensitive that every little thing hurt me. To spoil, break or lose an article in my young days was such a calamity that it is no wonder I told a story occasionally.
One day I was sent across the fields to Yeadon to buy some meat. I was given a silver shilling in quite a large purse and was told to be sure and not open it until I got to the shop. When I was about half way I looked at my money and when I got to the shop, it was gone and I had to return without the meat. When questioned I denied opening the purse in the fields and was sent all the way back to see if I had dropped it on the floor, a perfectly foolish errand, as I knew I should not find it. However, I was soon broken of telling fibs but there were other things. I was held down a lot at my boarding place and perhaps took advantage away from home. There was a little grocery shop in the neighborhood where I was frequently sent. On the counter there stood a little pair of copper scales. One day while waiting for my purchase I unthinkingly raised them a little and asked, “Are they true?” Well, another fine scolding with the implication that I must think the owners dishonest.
Near my residence was a stone wall; the rocks were piled loosely on top of one another so that there were many holes and crevices and the wall was very much alike the entire length. Coming back from an errand one day I stopped to tie my shoestring and to do so put my money in one of the crevices. Walking away a few steps, I remembered the change and speedily retraced my steps, but searching as I would, my treasure could not be found. Another blunder.
The homes of the rich in England are often enclosed with a high wall about as high as the one around the Temple Block in Salt Lake City. The lilacs and foliage that hung over some of those walls were most beautiful; but that is not my story. One day as I went skipping along, I gave my foot a toss and off went one of my galoshes over the wall. No one would dare to get inside to recover it.
The fifth of November in England was celebrated as Guy Fawkes Day. Young people gathered in groups and built bonfires and had jollification. In one of these Clara and I were permitted to join on the condition that we reached home at a certain time. We had also been permitted to put in a hapenny, as the others were doing, and one of the neighbors made some treacle (molasses candy) for us. We took our candy home without eating any, but alas we were a little over time and our candy was taken away until we asked forgiveness. Oh, the days that it took me to muster up courage to do that awful thing; but at last I succeeded, only to find out that Clara had gotten hers days before.
Little girls did not play all day long in those days as many of them do now. I was taught to sew, knit and crochet. I very well recall sitting in the evenings making nets of black thread by the light of a small candle but improvements were in sight. Someone went to Leeds and brought home a little paraffin lamp with a handle on the side like a teacup, so that it was handy to carry around. My, what a sensation it caused! Then too, we had water brought into the house; such a small tap but we could get a bucket of water if we waited long enough. That was another tremendous improvement. The law in England used to permit children to work in the factories when eight years old. But in my day the law had been modified so that children could only work a half-day before they were thirteen. To be like other girls I wanted to go to the mill but Father would not listen and anyway, we were soon to go to America. England had not been very good to me, or so I thought. I had had many narrow escapes from real harm but the Father of orphans had helped me through. Discipline, too, was rather severe. I was often told to speak when I was spoken to and not ask so many questions; that children should be seen and not heard. I was always admonished to be a little woman and have common sense. Father did not have much to do with my bringing up as he was not home very much.
Washing the dishes, scrubbing or scouring the stone floors, using elbow grease in polishing the furniture seemed to be the important things for little girls to do. And yet, there were frequent rifts in those childish clouds. Sometimes, with others, I went into the broad, green fields to gather blackberries from the hedges that bordered the fields. After a rain how thick the mushrooms were! What fun to fill our little pails with them! Sometimes we gathered nettles to make beer with and went home with many stings which was not quite so pleasant but which gave us a chance to wander in the green lanes for which England is so famous.
Sometimes I was taken to Armley, a little city not far away from Leeds,
where Mrs. Saxton had relatives, and once Clara and I were invited to a
wonderful party in Leeds. In all my life I had never seen such a
display of good things to eat. There were great crystal bowls
overflowing with oranges, apples, grapes and other fruits and again I
was in for a scrape. A lady passed the fruit a second time and as she
came to me I said, “No, thank you”, although I meant, “Yes, if you
please”. You see I was true to my training but when I saw others
eating, my politeness broke down and I helped myself, whereupon a nice
lady came and told me, “That was naughty. You should never help
yourself”. One trip I was permitted to stay all night and next morning
was given two pence hapenny (five cents) for train fare; but as I wanted
to keep my money, I walked a distance of seven miles. As I think of it
now, I feel that it was a dangerous proceeding. True, it was a lovely
road leading past an old castle but it was a lonely one and England was
not devoid of bad men as I had discovered before that time. |
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Chapter 4 FROM ENGLAND to the LAND of PROMISE
America was now looming large on my horizon. Soon Father was to go and after finding employment would send for the family consisting of Mrs. Saxton, her daughter, Clara, and myself. The plan was that Father would marry Mrs. Saxton on our arrival in the Promised Land. With that understanding, as soon as we boarded the vessel, I was to begin to call the lady “Mother” and Clara, my sister. Father made the journey in a sailing vessel and was on the water six weeks, arriving in New York sometime in April, 1865, just about the time of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. He was fortunate in obtaining work and sent for us in October. Those were exciting times; I was always ready for a change and was longing for the day when we should leave England. Mrs. Saxton was having a beautiful black satin dress made and one day I saw her show her mother a lovely new bonnet, a “sky scraper”, as that was the style and I heard her remark, “This is the wedding bonnet.”
At last we started. It was quite late in the evening when we really got off. Although we had tried to keep the event a secret, all the neighbors seemed to know about it and were all out to say good-by. In the meantime I was saying to myself, “Farewell bright-eye, I hope I shall never see thee any more.” It is a real sensation to board a vessel and gradually pull out of the dock, see the waving of handkerchiefs and watch the receding shore. Three weeks we were to be on that ship. Three days my sister and I were seasick but poor Mother was sick all the way, so sick that when we girls joyously told her we could see land, she replied, “I don’t want to see land.” In the next berth to ours – we came steerage – was an old couple from Lancashire, who were coming to their son who lived in America. The old gentleman was in the habit of sitting up to the table and hammering up his hardtack preparatory to the coming meal, really a sensible thing to do.
As we neared the banks of Newfoundland, we had a storm. It happened in the night and the trap doors were closed. We were prisoners down in the hold as was the usual custom on such occasions. This procedure did not suit the old man; he got up and fussed about, declaring that someone ought to be up on deck looking after things. While he was thus expostulating, the old lady was sitting up in bed frantically rocking to and fro crying, “I canna tarry here, I canna tarry here. I wish I was whoam, I wish I was whoam! I canna tarry here, I canna tarry here!” Whereupon the old man exclaimed, “Owd the noise with thee, how canst thee be whoam when thee’s in t’middle a th’ ocean?” The old ship rocked and rolled but our family lay still as if nothing was happening. I took a swig occasionally at what we called the red bottle, a bottle of bitters which happened to be under my pillow to keep me from being seasick. I was not at all afraid.
As always, there were some pleasant experiences on the old ship, some love making on the part of a few and some nice people to visit. I spent some time with a young Irish woman who taught me how to crochet a collar thus adding to my scanty store of knowledge. One of the officers tried to make love to this pretty young Irish woman. He wanted her to walk about the ship with him. “The little girl will go with us,” he said, and people would think that I belonged to them but I immediately said I would not go. I did not want to be a party to the scheme. The young lady did not go either.
Landing at Castle Gardens was a real adventure. Oh, the hustle and bustle, crowds meeting crowds, boxes to be opened and examined, people disappointed because friends were not there and so on. My father was there, however. It was almost dark and I was looking up through a jam when I heard, “There she is with her dear little face.” I think our family must have made a good impression with the ship’s officers, for when it came our turn to have the luggage examined, the word was passed on that we were all right; so with the exception of one little box which was full of laundered linen, over which they hesitated a few minutes because the examiners thought it was new, our boxes and bundles were all marked O.K. and we were off to our new home in Manayunk, a manufacturing district, a few miles out of Philadelphia. Father married Mrs. Saxton immediately. She was a splendid housekeeper, neat and thrifty. She proved to be a good wife and mother and my debt to her is great indeed.
One thing amazed me very much in the new land. Whenever I was introduced as just “coming over”, the salutation would invariably be, “O, she’s a little greenhorn, is she?” That hurt my feelings, for in England when I did the wrong thing they called me a little greenhorn. Soon Clara and I were put to work in a cotton mill where Father was employed, not in the same department, however. I must say the girls, with one exception, were a bad lot. One of their number had recently “got religion”, and I was the only girl in the room who sympathized with her. She would frequently say to me, “I shall have to break.” It was hard for her to stand the pressure as all the other girls and men were making fun of her. So she came to me to renew her strength. These girls had the habit of rubbing their teeth with snuff. Several times a day they would take a lay off to indulge in this habit and every day I was threatened with some punishment if I did not join them. Needless to say, I did not. While tending my machine one day the front of my dress, which was loose from the lining, caught in the rollers. There was nothing to do but brace myself and let the portion of the dress go and thus save my life. When it was over I began to cry, not because of the danger I had barely escaped but because my dress was ruined. “Don’t cry,” said one of the workmen, “there is lots of new clothes in America.”
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Chapter 11
It would serve no useful purpose for me to go over in detail the activities of my many years as an M.I.A. board worker. For the information of my posterity who may be interested in my story, I shall present a generalized view of Y.L.M.I.A. board work and responsibilities and shall refer by way of example to a few of my assignments. In every ward in the Church there is a local association conducted by officers and teachers chosen by the bishop of the ward. The chief officer of each of the locals is the ward Y.L.M.I.A. president. In passing, reference may be made to a parallel organization of young men; conjoint activities involving the youth of both sexes. The several ward units in the geographic area known as a stake are affiliated and are directly supervised by the stake “mutual” presidency and board.
When I entered upon M.I.A. work as president in the Fourteenth Ward (1895) there were 406 ward organizations and a total enrolled membership of 14,884. Ten years later there were 581 ward societies with over 25,000 members. At the time of my retirement in 1937 the total membership had passed 70,000. There were over a thousand ward associations comprised within 118 stakes. In presenting these figures I do not wish to claim any personal credit for the increase. That is to be attributed to the growth in numbers of all Latter-day Saints and to the creation of new wards and stakes in accord with decisions of the general authorities of the Church. What I wish to point out is the nature and magnitude of the task of the general officers and boards in planning, lesson work and other activities for this immense organization and in providing necessary overall supervision and direction.
Our direct contact with the membership came through stake conferences and conventions and the annual general conference in Salt Lake City held in June. Through the years I visited most, if not all, of the stakes of Zion, including those in Canada, Mexico and Hawaii. It has been my enviable privilege to travel with three presidents of the Church, several apostles and others of the general authorities and many men and women of the caliber requisite for appointment to our general boards.
At first the General Board met twice a month, usually at the home of President Elmina S. Taylor. With the growth in the number of wards and stakes and increasing need for the preparation and publication of lesson materials, weekly meetings became the rule. When I first became a member the Board consisted of the presidency and fourteen aids. When I retired in 1937 there were thirty-four board members in addition to the presidency. Courses of study were planned a year in advance and all board members participated in one or more phases of the work of planning, reviewing, revision, and/or writing lessons for the Guide. These were published in the official publication, the Young Woman’s Journal, to which stake and ward officers and teachers subscribed. Thus uniformity was achieved throughout the Church.
Soon after I became a member of the General Board, I suggested the establishment of traveling libraries. The plan was being followed by women’s clubs throughout the country and it seemed to me to be especially appropriate in an association dedicated to personal development. The suggestion was discussed in several board meetings and approved in December 1898. To recommend suitable books and to maintain contact with stakes and wards, a library committee was appointed of which I became chairman. Ward M.I.S. organizations were encouraged to collect and maintain local libraries and stake boards were given the responsibility of raising funds to buy and circulate books through the several wards of the stake. My committee became an agency for the purchase of books for the stakes. Within a few years the Traveling Library consisted of more than three thousand choice volumes. Later when local public and school libraries were established, the distribution of books from ward to ward was terminated and the same purpose achieved through publication in our study courses of lists of recommended books.
One of my first assignments was to a conjoint conference at Fish Lake. Aggie Campbell was my companion. For the Young Men’s Association, Junius Wells and George H. Brimhall, of the B.Y.U., were the representatives. I considered myself to be in very distinguished company. Two of the finest soloists of our Church, Thomas L. Ashworth and Edna Dwyer, were added to our party to brighten our conference meetings with their beautiful singing. The journey to and from my train and team and the Saturday, Sunday meetings required one week.
From the time I was a little girl I had been taught to have proper respect for the Priesthood. I was always deferential; perhaps reverential would better describe my attitude toward the leading brethren of the Church. In their presence I felt very humble and at first was much too self-effacing for my own good. Early in the third year of my general board work I was assigned to attend an M.I.A. conference at Rexburg, Idaho, scheduled to follow on a Tuesday evening a regular general stake conference and the laying of the corner stone of the Church Academy building. The visiting brethren were Presidents Joseph F. Smith and George Q. Cannon, Apostle Rudger Clawson and President Seymour B. Young of the First Council of Seventy. Being the only woman and lacking nerve to invite the attention of the brethren I kept pretty much to myself on the overnight train ride.
When we arrived at Idaho Falls at 8:30 a.m. on Saturday, the people, including the children, were out in mass to welcome the party with flags and flowers. I was very much embarrassed to find myself right behind President Smith who turned and said, “Give this lady some flowers. She’s a good Sunday School worker.” When we arrived at Rexburg I took great care not to be in the wrong pew a second time and held back at proper distance. Of course, the whole town was out again. No one seemed to know me so I waited until everyone, vehicles and all, went rushing off to the meeting, all except one wagon load of people and one single buggy. For a moment I thought I would wait in the depot and take the next train home but, of course, that would not do so I walked to the wagon and asked for information as to where the conference was being held. But the occupants answered not a word perhaps they could not understand. I don’t know. Then I went to the man in the single buggy and asked if he could tell me where Mrs. Ricks, our president, lived. I assured him that I could walk if he could tell me the way. He said he was passing her home and would be glad to take me along. He left me at her door, but alas! there was no one home. Then I hard singing from a bowery some distance away and thither I repaired and quietly took a seat. When I finally made connections with the M.I.A. officers I learned that the M.I.A. conference meeting had been sandwiched in with the regular stake conference sessions to avoid conflict with a circus advertised for Tuesday. I had missed the very meeting I was expected to attend. I must say for the brethren that they never let me get out of their sight again until we reached home.
Illustrative of the long hours spent in travel I recall an assignment to an M.I.A. convention in Vernal in August, 1901. I reached Price by train and stayed all night at the home of President Reuben Miller. In the morning I took the stage in the company of Brother Rudger Clawson, riding about sixty miles to a so-called station, which we reached at 10:30 p.m. At 2:45 a.m. we were on the road again. We traveled 70 miles and reached Vernal at 7:30 p.m. I am sure our best friends would not have recognized us the roads were so dusty. I thought I should never be able to quench my thirst as we had found no water on the way. I stayed with Sister Dunstan Young. In the morning I went to a Sunday School convention and in the afternoon to stake conference. We held officers’ meeting and joint meeting in the evening. I made the journey homeward by stage in the company of J.M. Tanner who proved to be a most pleasant companion notwithstanding that his raincoat which he had kindly placed over the back of the seat for my convenience was stolen by a band of gypsies whom we met and conversed with.
In addition to their regular duties, stake and ward officers assumed the obligation of providing lodging and entertainment for official visitors. In February, 1903, while on the way to a convention in Emery Stake I again was an overnight guest in the comfortable home in Price of President Reuben G. Miller. Next morning I rode twenty-two miles in an open wagon, sitting on a spring seat with the temperature fourteen below zero. I was well wrapped up and a kerosene lamp was burning but I was chilled to the marrow and took cold. My son Fera was teaching at Huntington and I ate dinner at the home of Mrs. Brasher, his landlady, before continuing to Cleveland by horse and buggy, a distance of seven miles. I attended an afternoon meeting and in the evening, a musical. I stayed all night with a Sister Snow. In the morning I was quite ill, the first and only time that I remember being ill on an M.I.A. trip. I asked the brethren to administer to me and proceeded with my duties, attended three meetings and drove back to Huntington. I stayed overnight at Loveless’ and on Monday visited the Seminary of which my son was the teacher and talked to his pupils before returning to Price.
The following note from my journal (September 1903) is a very brief record of a long series of visits.
In company of President J. Golden Kimball, went south to visit conventions. Brother Kimball only expected to visit Panguitch so was not equipped with a change of clothing. He also had with him his little son Heber who was in the same predicament. However, he got a telegram telling him to go on. When he reached Orderville he tried to buy some garments to wear long enough for me to wash and dry his own. The weather was very warm so he was in a hurry for the change. When he tells the story he says that I put him to bed until his clothes were ready. The lady where we stayed was making dresses for her daughters and having to stay overnight I was able to help her. We were gone three weeks; held 35 meetings. I spoke in 22 of them. The mode of travel was mostly by team, the brethren in one town taking us part way to the next where we would be met by another outfit. Of course, we visited all the wards on the way. I reached home on the 17th of September. Immediately went to report to President Taylor as we always did after a convention trip but found her quite ill.
In point of time my longest convention trip began August 15, 1905 with Douglas M. Todd of the Young Men’s Board as my companion. We were gone for six weeks and conducted conventions in six Arizona stakes and one in Mexico. Between conventions during midweek we had time to take side trips to places of interest and to make social visits. While in Mesa we went with some of the Saints to spend an evening with an Indian family who were members of the Church. The son and daughter were educated and were good musicians, the daughter being especially gifted as a vocalist. They played and sang for us and led us in singing “O My Father”. Before leaving we joined in prayer, thanking the Lord for the presence of His Spirit in this humble home and for the many blessings we had received.
Brother Todd and I also went to see Uncle Ben Johnson who told us many things that happened in the early days of the Church. He said that he saw Brigham when the mantle of the Prophet Joseph fell upon him. Joseph had a missing tooth, which affected his speech making a sort of hissing sound; it was not only the voice of the Prophet he heard but he also noticed this peculiarity. He also said that President Young sent Bishop Newel R. Whitney and him to Emma Smith to get her to come to Utah; that they talked nearly all night with her; that while she did not say so, the spirit she manifested showed she wanted, with her sons, to take the lead.
An assignment of September, 1906, illustrates the uncertainties that brought interesting and unexpected experiences and occasional disappointments. I was to attend a conference in San Juan, but as there was no one to meet the train at Thompson’s Springs, I had to stay all night with some other people in the depot. There was nowhere else to stay. We succeeded in buying a loaf of bread and a brother shot a cottontail rabbit upon which we made a meal. Though it was not too late to attend the San Juan meetings, I took the first train back to Price and attended the Emery Stake Convention joining Brother Benjamin Goddard and Sister Alice K. Smith. We also visited some of the wards and took part in the opening exercises of the Emery Stake Academy at Castle Dale.
Were a complete record made of my visits to various wards and stakes many pages would be required. I have noted herein just a few official visits out of a great many. There early assignments are no doubt impressed on my memory because of the length of time required by horse and wagon travel, the exciting novelty of association with prominent brethren and my comparative inexperience as a leader among the women of the Church. |
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Chapter 12
The colorful days of the horse and buggy era gradually faded with better roads and automobiles. It would be dull reading to continue my account of convention assignments even if I could. Leaving some notable events to be recounted later I must devote this chapter to some miscellaneous experiences of importance in my life story. One of the greatest missionary activities of the Church is that conducted on Temple Square. I am pleased to recall that I was one of the first to participate in that great undertaking that now affords opportunity to introduce the gospel to a million tourists each year. When the present Bureau of Information was built in 1902 I received a call from President Joseph F. Smith to work as a guide under the direction of Benjamin Goddard and Thomas Hull. The Temple Square Mission was opened in 1903 and I continued to conduct groups of visitors once or twice a week through the grounds and buildings until 1929. My call to be General President of the Y.L.M.I.A. was necessarily followed by my release as a guide on the Square. We taught the gospel in reviewing the story of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and the settlement of Utah; and answered many questions. One of the most frequent concerned polygamy. From personal experience in a polygamous family and my full acceptance of modern revelation I was able, I think, to reply effectively in defense of my Church.
In March 1903 I journeyed to New Orleans to attend the National Council of Women as the representative of the Y.L.M.I.A. Emmeline B. Wells and Clarice S. Williams for the Relief Society were other delegates. Perhaps to take advantage of clergy rates on the railroad we were given official appointments and set apart as missionaries. We received a blessing under the hands of the First Presidency. President Anthon H. Lund in pronouncing my blessing said, “Cast not aside thy assurance, but know that you have something better than they and that God is ever ready to help you.” We traveled by way of Chicago and attended a Sunday meeting on March 22 with the branch in that city. We reached New Orleans on Tuesday and attended meetings through Friday. The sessions were less impressive than I had anticipated. There were problems about the affiliation of colored women and a spirited discussion over the admission of the Ladies of the G.A.R. Though formal action was not there taken both these groups were later admitted.
In later years I went as a delegate to meetings of the Council at least a dozen times; attending six sessions in Washington D.C., two in New York and others in St. Louis, Des Moines, Chicago and Detroit. In 1919 I was elected auditor of the Council for a two-year term and by reelection continued in office until 1925. I met many fine non-Mormons, including Mrs. Calvin Coolidge, who received us at the White House and I hope we helped to develop a better understanding of and respect for the Mormons. In connection with these journeys I was able through the years to visit the historic spots that are cherished in the memory of every true Latter-day Saint.
World War I brought a great expansion in the services offered by the American Red Cross. All over the country local chapters were busy rolling bandages for use in the armies of the Allies. I took the necessary instruction, taught others and directed a unit of a score or more of women in preparing these essential hospital supplies. When the “flu epidemic” was at its peak and nurses were all too few I became a volunteer nurse and served the sick in seven different homes. The 1948 annual report of the Salt Lake County Chapter of Red Cross contains my poem, Live On, Red Cross, with the following comment:
“This tribute to Red Cross was written by Ruth May Fox, age 95, who has been in continuous Red Cross Service as a volunteer and Board member since 1917.”
Speaking of non-church activities, I should mention my twelve years (1925-1937) as a member of the board of the Travelers’ Aid.
The passage of the Prohibition amendment to the Federal Constitution and subsequent legislation (1919 to 1933) made boot-legging a profitable business, both for those engaged in illicit traffic and the law-enforcement officials who collaborated with them. Conditions in Salt Lake County were deplorable and the Social Welfare League was formed to aid in the election of good men to office and to assist them in every way possible to enforce the laws against vice and crime.
The Salt Lake Ministerial Association joined with representatives of the L.D.S. Church, including the M.I.A., in this campaign for good government. I was for several years a member of the League of which Dean Milton Bennion was the chairman. The League was non-political and in general confined its pre-election efforts to getting acceptable nominees on both party tickets. In one campaign when both nominees for sheriff were unsatisfactory, an independent candidate was presented to the people and elected. Each member of the League represented the members of an organization. As the representative of the Y.L.M.I.A. my voice was the voice of thousands. Though the League dissolved after a decade of activity, it was for a number of years a source of power in supporting good government. I am proud of my connection with it.
An unusual experience for me was jury service in the trial of a man charged with violation of the liquor laws while serving as a deputy sheriff in Bingham. I was the only woman juror. After 28 hours of debate, broken only by a few hours of sleep under guard, we brought in a verdict of guilty.
In February, 1934, I was honored by the Salt Lake Federation of Women’s Clubs as one of seven women who had rendered distinguished community service. No doubt my claim to distinction at that time had to rest on a broader base than long years of service in the Church and my record in such efforts as are recorded in preceding paragraphs probably had some weight in the minds of those making the selection. Should any of my posterity wish to know of the very choice company I was thought worthy enough to be counted with I record here the names of the other six: Mrs. C.W. Watson, Mrs. A.H.L. Bird, Mrs. Alice Merrill Horne, Mrs. E. O. Howard, Mrs. Annie Wells Cannon and Mrs. A.J. Gorham.
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Chapter 13 To the End of the M.I.A. Trail
The years of my presidency in the Y.L.M.I.A. were so full of rich experiences that I hardly know what to include and what to omit in the narration of my life. I had selected for my counselors two of the most capable, most experienced and most worthy of women. Both had years of training in M.I.A. work. Lucy Grant Cannon had served on the board for twelve years during the last six of which she had been a counselor to Sister Martha H. Tingey. I had known her since her early childhood and as an associate in M.I.A. work had come to appreciate her faith and devotion and industry in carrying her full share of any responsibility. Lacking few, if any of the qualities that are sought for in leaders of youth, Clarissa Beesley possessed special gifts and long experience in meeting the requirements of efficient organization and management.
Presiding over the Y.M.M.I.A. at the same time were three apostles, George Albert Smith, Melvin J. Ballard and Richard R. Lyman. Under such leadership, with Lutie and Clarissa my daily associates, and a board of choice and capable aids, I went forward, determined to give to the full my time and my strength to the work of the Lord.
The year 1930 was the centennial of the organization of the church. Our June Conference had been planned around the theme “Onward with Mormon Ideals”. The idea that Latter-day Saints must build on the foundations laid by their progenitors and carry forward into the new century the work of the Church appealed to me as a fitting subject for a poem or a song. The ideal finally took shape in the words of Carry On, which Alfred M. Durham, with real inspiration, set to music for the use at the Sunday evening session of M-Men and Gleaners, June 8, 1930. The entire lower section of the Tabernacle was reserved for these young people, all provided with gold and green flags, the colors of M.I.A. These they waved as they reached the chorus climax. To say that I was thrilled to hear an army of young men and women vocalizing the pledge to continue the work of their noble fathers is to express my feelings mildly.
This dramatic rendition was not, however, the first time I had been honored by having one of my songs sung in the historic Tabernacle. At the General Conference in October 1915, President Joseph F. Smith stated that when he and Bishop Charles W. Nibley were in Hawaii in June to dedicate the site for the temple, they had been impressed with a song, the words of which (President Smith said) I had been inspired to write when the temple project had been first announced. Elder Orson Clark had written music for my poem and it had been sung at the dedication exercises. President Smith brought the copy home and Evan Stephens arranged a quartet to sing “A Temple in Hawaii” at the conference. President Smith gave me a handwritten copy of the words and music, which I still have.
Jumping ahead of my story in point of time, I mention the presentation of my song, In Triumph We Shall Sing, with music by Crawford Gates, at the June Conference in 1952. President Bertha S. Reeder requested that I write a special song for the occasion. I had written the words of this song many years before but it had not been used. Now with slight alterations suggested by Sister Reeder and Brother Gates it was set to music and presented by a male chorus from the B.Y.U. I was honored in having a special rendition of the song presented in my home by Brother Gates and thirty young men who came from Provo to visit me. The song has been printed and distributed for use in stake and ward Mutual Improvement Associations.
Since its first rendition, Carry On has been used increasingly in M.I.A. and other Church gatherings. It was a feature of the June Conference again this year (1953). I am very happy at the recognition given in this Conference to the composer, Alfred Durham, now eighty-one years of age, who, after an introductory tribute, was asked to lead the congregation in singing this song, to the success of which Brother Durham has contributed so much. Today I seem to be better known as the author of Carry On than for all of my other achievements of one hundred years.
The significance in my life of association with the presidents and apostles of the Church cannot be overestimated. Well do I remember a visit to the San Francisco Stake in the company of Elder Melvin J. Ballard in October 1931. I was a guest of the stake Y.L.M.I.A. president, a Sister Mahoney. Along with Brother Ballard, President McDonald and others, I was invited to an evening luncheon in the magnificent home of Mrs. Jack McCune Qualey. Mrs. Qualey is the daughter of the Elizabeth C. McCune who became a member of the Y.L.M.I.A. board on the same day as I, thirty-three years before. The Qualey residence was the most gorgeous home, that is, private home, that I had ever been in. At the request of our host, Brother Ballard impressively described his vision of the Savior, which had been given him in the Salt Lake Temple.
No June Conference is exactly like any other. The objective is always the same, the guidance of youth toward full understanding and complete observance of the gospel of Jesus Christ, but the programs vary with needs and circumstances. Throughout the Nation in 1932, there was wide observance of the bicentennial celebration, observing the birth of George Washington. Following a nationwide pattern, we urged all ward associations to plant a memorial George Washington tree during the month of April.
From the Mutual Messages Department of The Improvement Era for March, 1932, I quote the following beautiful sentiment:
“In the symbolism of a tree can Washington be remembered preeminently. Deep-rooted in the ground, a tree is like a man, coming up out of the earth, but lifting its branches to heaven. And as it grows in usefulness, so it grows in beauty. It may outlast the ages, it offers its shade to all alike, and its disinterested ministries succor a thirsty countryside and provide for its physical and aesthetic necessities. So a tree bespeaks the spirit of Washington. He was democratic in his services, regal in his leadership, commanding in his principles, while he extended a brotherly hand to a new and independent people struggling for fuller freedom.”
After the Saturday morning sessions of the June conference we held a memorial exercise northwest of the Tabernacle in honor of Washington and planted a tree. President George Albert Smith of the Y.M.M.I.A. presided. I offered the following words of dedication and then shoveled in the soil while President Smith held the tree:
“Brethren, Sisters and Friends:
“Beneath the radiant skies of this June Day, when mountains and valleys are bathed in beauty and the air is redolent with the fragrance of roses, and on this ground made sacred by the feet of the Pioneers and hallowed by the presence of these majestic buildings, which stand as monuments of faith to a God-fearing people, we, the officers and members of the Mutual Improvement Associations, plant this tree which is the offspring of one planted and nurtured at beautiful Mt. Vernon by the Father of his Country. May its roots entwine themselves in the yielding soil that it may grow to its ultimate perfection. May its branches gently sway to the lure of the summer breeze while its leaves sing and dance to the strains of melody that shall permeate this Square. We dedicate this tree to the memory of the man who under God was an instrument in founding the greatest nation under Heaven – to the man who all the world delights to honor, whose name shall shine like a star to the end of time – The Peerless George Washington.”
Following the tree planting ceremony, the Honorable John Bowman, member of the Y.M.M.I.A. Board and former mayor of Salt Lake City, delivered a patriotic address.
In July of 1932 representatives of the M.I.A. boards went to Los Angeles to attend the first international recreational congress ever held. Experts and celebrities from twenty-eight countries and thirty-eight states assembled to discuss the problems of recreation and leisure time. It was very illuminating and stimulating conference. The World Olympics were in progress at the same time. My son, Lester, who lives near Los Angeles, accompanied me one afternoon to the games. I traveled to and from California by auto with Brother John Giles and his wife and Katie Jensen and Elsie Brandley of my board.
The Lion House had recently been transferred to the Y.L.M.I.A. for use as a social center for women and girls. On this journey my colleagues and I had opportunity to explore informally the types of activities that might be conducted in this historic building. Plans for the use of the building had been considered in our board meetings for several months and this participation in the recreational conference and our discussions during the trip led to some definite conclusions. The fall of the year saw the opening of several classes. Lectures and demonstrations were given in the making of candy, artificial flowers and Christmas cards and courses in First Aid were organized. Thus began an extensive program of class work and social activities that has continued to the present time. Out-of-town girls employed in homes, having generally Thursday night off, were organized as a club with a name that I suggested incorporating a reference to the trees in front of the Lion House, the Linden Lionettes. I am told that this social group has maintained its existence, with changes, of course, to the present time.
Presiding officers of auxiliaries were occasionally honored with invitations to notable observances of special significance. On May 17, 1934, President Louisa Y. Robison, President May Anderson and I attended the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the dedication of the Logan Temple. President Heber J. Grant invited the visiting sisters to speak briefly in the assembly room of the Annex. Some of the resident sisters remarked that it was the first time that a woman had ever been asked speak in the Logan Temple.
A most wonderful assignment came to me in August, 1936, when I visited the Hawaiian Islands. Leaving Salt Lake August 5th, I was met at Los Angles by my son Lester and and daughter Beryl. After a day and a night with them I sailed in the company of President Albert E. Bowen and wife Emma Lucy on the ship Malolo. Brother Bowen wrote for the Era an account of this notable journey from which I borrow the following paragraph:
“The visit of Albert E. Bowen of the Y.M.M.I.A. and President Ruth May Fox of the Y.W.M.I.A. to the Oahu Stake conference, August 15 and 16, marks the first official visit in the history of the Church of an auxiliary head to a regularly scheduled conference of an organized stake outside the confines of continental America. The members of the Church in Hawaii urgently and persistently requested their presence, through Stake President Ralph E. Woolley, and the Church in Hawaii opened its provident and hospitable arms to give much to and to take much from these executive heads of the Mutual Improvement Association during their sixteen-day stay on the islands.”
We reached Oahu at 8:30 a.m. on Thursday, August 13, and were greeted by President Ralph E. Woolley and many others. I was immediately draped with ten leis and taken by sister Fred Lund to her beautiful home overlooking the Punch Bowl and the harbor. In the evening we were entertained with the Bowens on the spacious veranda of President Woolley’s home. Many guests joined us. Soon melodious female voices were heard in the garden. President Woolley invited the dozen or more young women to join the party. The male serenaders were heard, who also joined us. For two or three hours we were entertained by these musicians with native songs and dances. On Friday and Saturday my hosts took me sightseeing. We visited lovely gardens, a comfortable cabin where Robert Lewis Stevensen had done much of his writing and the magnificent Royal Hawaiian Hotel.
Our conference meetings were conducted according to our usual pattern. On Saturday evening we had an M.I.A. officers’ meeting and on Sunday a morning and evening session. In the afternoon we all attended the Relief Society Conference, a part of which was devoted to a tribute to Sister Jeanette Hyde of the General Board of the Relief Society who had died suddenly in the Saturday afternoon Relief Society meeting. I was asked to give her topic at the conference and did the best I could. In all my experience I have never attended a more impressive meeting than the one held on Sunday evening. All the meetings, in fact, were outstanding. The Hawaiian choir of two hundred voices seemed to me to be the equal of any I had ever heard.
We were sixteen days on the Islands and held meetings in addition to those at Hololulu, at Laie, where the Temple is located, forty miles from Hololulu on the same island, at Waimia and Hilo on the island of Hawaii and at Wailuku on the island of Maui. When not in meetings or sleeping we were guests at feasts, parties, entertainments and sightseeing trips. The following poem, published in the Era, conveys my impressions better than I could express them in prose.
WHAT I FOUND in HAWAII I found laughter, Joyous laughter, Like the ripples on the water When the sunbeams glint the sea.
I heard music. Glorious music, Floating gladly on the air. Songs that lighten pain and sorrow, Songs that everyone may share! Music tender, low, and sweet, Music gay for dancing feet, Strains that rouse the voice to cheers, Strains that melt, the heart to tears. Sing, sing, your songs of ecstasy And sing one tender strain for me.
I saw dancing – Dark eyes glancing In the evenings mellow glow. Dancers swinging, Arms up flinging, Swaying gently to and fro; Tripping feet, expressive fingers Disclose a rite that dimly lingers. O the joy of youthful dancing When dark eyes are slyly glancing!
I found flowers everywhere, They weave them into garlands fair, Throw them proudly round your neck; And, not content, your hair they deck With gorgeous oleanders, Fragrant flowers of every hue, From flaming red to dainty blue. The splendorous cerise, snow-white, Blooms once for you – that once at night. There are golden shower trees Flinging their petals to the breeze In generous abandon. The royal palms, so straight and tall With kingly pride looks over all The land as if to say, “Look up to me – I lead the way.”
And I found friends – New friends – true friends, Whose hearts were warm as a summer’s day; Whose handclasp like a heavenly ray Drew soul to soul In bonds of sympathetic love Which comes alone from the throne above; Aloha nui (I love you much) For kindly words and friendly touch.
In 1937 I had the great pleasure of returning to my native England for a visit. My daughter Vida Fox Clawson had planned a European tour to include the celebration of the centenary of the British Mission and generously invited me to go with her. On the same ship were President Heber J. Grant, President J. Reuben Clark, Jr., and many others. After the memorable visit to England those belonging to Vida’s party toured Europe.
My participation in this historic conference in England was in many respects the crowning event in my long life of Church service. Though I did not make this journey as a representative of the Y.W.M.I.A. nor at Church expense, it was inevitable that I should be recognized in all Church activities as the General President of the Y.W.M.I.A. President Grant was most considerate and called on me to speak at several meetings of the Saints. My very dear friend, Amy Brown Lyman, who was present, comments with generous overstatement as follows: “The climax of her travel and church work came when as general president of her organization she had the opportunity of visiting Europe in 1937, in her 84th year. While there she attended the British Mission Centennial celebrating the introduction of the gospel in Britain in 1837, which was held in Lancashire at Preston and its environs, with Presidents Grant and Clark and many other Church officials in attendance. One of the most interesting and dramatic meetings was that held on the grassy banks of the river Ribble where the first baptisms by Mormon missionaries took place in all Europe 100 years before. There were 500 in attendance at this meeting. One of the featured speakers was Sister Fox whose fervency and sincerity and flow of language have made her a speaker of influence everywhere. On this occasion she gave such an eloquent and stirring address that it thrilled the souls and touched the hearts of all of us who had the good fortune to be in attendance and brought tears to the eyes of many.”
As my 84th birthday approached I gave serious thought to the termination of my service in the M.I.A. It seemed hardly appropriate for a woman in her eighties to be head of an organization emphasizing the word “young” in its title. Still I had been taught never to back away from responsibility. After careful consideration I submitted to President Grant the following letter: October 20, 1937
“Dear President Grant:
First of all, I am writing to thank you for your courtesy and kindness to all members of the Y.W.M.I.A., including myself, while on the recent trip to Europe. I also wish to thank you for the many favors received from you in the past.
That you considered me worthy of the position I hold as General President of the Y.W.M.I.A. has been gratefully appreciated beyond my ability to express.
In a short time I shall reach my 84th birthday and the fact will be heralded abroad, causing much comment I am sure, among the young women of the Church as they connect my age with my position.
My health is very good but my hearing is somewhat impaired; so that while I am not asking for release, I shall hold myself in readiness to withdraw whenever you think it advisable. Sincerely your sister, (signed) Ruth May Fox President”
Under date of October 29 President Grant replied to the effect that by the unanimous vote of the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve, it had been decided to release the entire board. My first counselor, Lucy Grant Cannon, was chosen to succeed me.
At a memorable meeting held on November 3, 1937, attended by Apostles George Albert Smith and Melvin J. Ballard, the entire Board, following the precedent of some years before in reorganizing the Y.M.M.I.A., was released. After the brethren withdrew, the new president called on me and others to express their feelings. I spoke of my appreciation of the love and esteem in which I was held by my associates and assured them in all sincerity of my love for them and I asked that the blessings of the Lord be with them. I recalled that one of my patriarchal blessings had promised that my last days would be my best days and stated that I would do my best to fill up my life and make them so. Thus ended more that forty-two years of serve as an officer of the Y.W.M.I.A., and nearly forty as a member of the General Board. |
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Chapter 14
So inclusive is the program of the L.D.S. Church that one does not have to hold official position to enjoy wholesome activity. The release from my responsibilities in the M.I.A. left me free to participate in other organization in our great Church. I began at once to attend more regularly the weekly Relief Society meetings and the Gospel Doctrine class of the Sunday School. I also went to the Temple frequently to do ordinance work. In all my life I have never missed a sacrament meeting when I had the time and the strength to go. I have been in frequent demand to talk to M.I.A. classes and Fireside Groups. Impairments of hearing and vision gradually made active participation in class work impossible. As long as I knew what was going on and could ask and answer questions I greatly enjoyed the Relief Society and the Sunday School; but when the pathways to the mind were obstructed and I could not enter into the discussions I discontinued attendance at those meetings and occupied myself with home study through the use of records. I was able to attend more than a hundred Temple sessions before that work also had to be suspended. I am still regular in attendance at the Sunday evening sacrament meeting. In the East Twenty-seventh Ward to which I belong, a public address system and hearing aids for the few that need them make participation in this service a delightful experience. These facilities should be installed in every hall where the Saints gather. Their availability would attract more regular attendance and add to the joy of many that are now deprived of full participation in the Sunday hour of worship.
When it became evident that I was gradually losing my vision I began to study Braille. I studied several hours a day for four or five years and made enough progress to read simple stories. I was disappointed in the slow progress that I made; but as I do not readily acknowledge defeat, I would have persisted had not a better way of accomplishing my purpose presented itself. My attention was called to a free service for the blind (“blind” means vision impaired so that reading print is impossible) through our public libraries, acting as agencies of the Library of Congress. For years I have had the use of a Talking Book Machine and of a constant supply of long-playing records, which are delivered and returned without charge by the U.S. Post Office. The time that would have been spent in the mastery of Braille is now much more profitably given to reading by ear. I possess the recordings of the entire New Testament and can get whenever I wish any of the books of the Old Testament. The best books and to my mind some of the worst are available. I get the Readers Digest within a few days after it is offered on the newsstands. I have read more since I was eighty-four than through all my years up to that time. Except in the field of religion, always my most absorbing interest, I am much better informed than in my earlier years. I get world news via the radio and items of local interest by having someone skim the daily paper with me.
Some very pleasurable hours are spent visiting with family and friends, either when they come to see me or when I go to them. Like everyone else in this world on wheels, my children have autos and I go along for the ride when they visit one another or go to the homes of friends. I have made several trips by auto and one by air to California in 1945, where I have about fifty descendants.
In the last three or four years of his life President Heber J. Grant was ordered by his physicians to ride daily in his auto. He had a list of widows and took two or three passengers with him and Augusta. I was on his list and was called so frequently that I wondered if I were not sometimes taken out of my turn. To you who read my story I suggest a careful study of the life of this great president of our Church. That he gave freely of his means is well known but I think his considerate sharing of his automobile with others who would be made happier by such attention is evidence of his understanding heart.
Utah’s centennial year, 1947, saw a succession of pageants, programs and parades and living pioneers were paid much attention. I was interviewed over a national radio network on my journey across the plains. I was honored by a local station and presented with the “orchid of the week” by the sponsoring floral company. I was favorably mentioned on a national “jamboree” program and presented with a chest of silver. I appeared before and addressed many Gleaner Girl and Fireside groups.
An unusual observance of my birthday also occurred in this year. As though each one might be the last my anniversaries have been observed with increasing interest and attention. Family parties have been the rule with more elaborate celebrations at five-year intervals. My son Lester and daughter Beryl, residents of California, have missed few if any of these family gatherings and Lester and I, having birthdays only two days apart, have shared the honors. The death of my oldest son, Jesse on October 26, 1947, brought Lester and Beryl to Salt Lake City and since they could not remain for the usual family reunion and birthday observance on November 16, there was general agreement that I should accompany them to California. My daughter Flo, with whom I make my home, also wanted to go to California to see her daughter Florence and a new grandchild at Riverside.
And so it happened that my ninety-fourth birthday was observed in the home of my daughter Beryl in Venice. More than fifty friends and relatives participated, including three of my children, several grandchildren and great grandchildren, some in-laws, my husband’s plural wife, Rose, and several of her descendants. Her children and mine have been brought up to know each other as true brothers and sisters and this additional instance of the esteem of my husband’s other family marks this birthday as one to be recalled with genuine satisfaction.
Custom has made the anniversary years divisible by five of greater importance than any others. The circle of interest expands to encompass more people; more pictures are taken and newspapers pay more attention to one’s advancing years. I am sure I would have missed much of my local importance had I arrived in Salt Lake two years after instead of two years before the completion of the railroad. Being a pre-railroad pioneer would alone have brought me some notice on special anniversaries, but only my long years of service in M.I.A. could have opened the doors of the famous Bee Hive House for four grand birthday celebrations. These receptions on my eighty-fifth, ninetieth, ninety-fifth and one hundredth birthdays have been attended by members of the First Presidency, the Council of the Twelve and other Church leaders and by city and state officials, in addition to hundreds of relatives and friends. That I deserve such honor is hard to understand.
I am frequently asked to what I attribute my long life. I have no answer. Certainly I have not made living to a “good old age” an objective. As far as I understand it, I have always kept the “Word of Wisdom”. A well-known doctor whom I consulted concerning an occasional feeling of faintness prescribed a cup of coffee every morning. I was ninety-two years of age and had by precept and example taught the importance of the “Word of Wisdom” to my children and grandchildren and in public addresses to thousands of Church members. I decided that living a few more years was not nearly as important as my example to posterity and I have not followed the doctor’s prescription. When you take a habit-forming drug to cure a weakness, you are likely to wind up with a weakness for the drug itself.
For long years of good health I am thankful to my Heavenly Father. I have had little need for hospital care. All twelve of my babies were born at home where either a midwife or a doctor attended me. I spent my first few days in a hospital at age eighty-two. I went again three years ago when I angled with a rug and fractured my hip. I had a good doctor and plenty of faith and never for a moment doubted complete recovery. While I was making rapid progress back to normal I watched with great interest the results of a similar accident suffered by George Bernard Shaw. Because of his worldwide fame there were daily news and radio reports on his condition. He grew steadily worse and died. My family thought I would be off my feet for months and bought a new wheelchair. I used it very little and passed it on to others who had need for it.
I have been blessed in these years of retirement through the companionship and love of my children. When my firstborn reached his fiftieth birthday anniversary I gave a family dinner in his honor. Following the precedent I have in like fashion entertained all ten of my sons and daughters as they reached the half-century mark. Counting my direct living descendants, I am proud to place in my record the following enumeration:
Children 9 Grandchildren 47 Great Grandchildren 136 Great Great Grandchildren 39
TOTAL 231
It is for the information of these descendants and many to be added as the years go by that I have prepared this story of my life. It will be evident that the Lord has poured out blessings with increasing abundance. Reference has been made to my patriarchal blessing when I was twenty-three years of age given by Patriarch John Smith. As a fitting close to the record of my life I quote from his words of promise:
“Be prudent; put thy trust in the Lord and study the law of nature, for it is thy privilege to live to a good old age and perform a mission upon the earth which will exalt thee among the faithful mothers in Israel. It shall be thy lot to council among thy sex, feed the hungry and administer to the wants of the afflicted. ***** Thy fame shall be known far and near. Many of the riper years shall honor thy judgment. ***** Thy last days shall be thy best days.”
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APPENDIX
Upon first meeting her, one notices the independent poise of her head, the brightness of her smile, the sparkle of her dark eyes. Listening to her conversation one is impressed by the keenness of her wit. Wit does not always attract, though it does interest; but when, as in this case, the stranger sees underneath it the spirit of love and kindness, he draws near and becomes one of a circle of admirers. Gradually underneath the brilliant repartee he recognizes the warmth of her generous heart, the strength of her courage, and the depth of her humility; he sees the strong will, which yet yields to the will of her Maker; the honest pride which might have been haughtiness had it not learned to bend through obedience to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Above all, he recognizes her faith, a principle so dominating her actions that even against his will he is compelled to pause and wonder at the beauty, joy and power of such an element in life.
~~ Susa Young Gates ~~ History of the Y.L.M.I.A. p. 290, published 1911
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My first distinct recollection goes back to the Press Club when we met in Aunt Em’s office behind the old wall – and you read the poem “My Fortieth Year”. To me you seemed about thirty with very dark hair, sparkling dark eyes, and a peculiar winsome expression that always pleased me. You had good taste in dressing your hair and in wearing your clothes and it was then that I realized that a New Star had arisen on my horizon. It has shone brightly for me ever since.
I have given you forty years of love and admiration and where you might be, have watched for your coming, listened for your voice and merry laughter and your words of wisdom and sound counsel. In my mind you are a distinct figure standing among the young people on your birthday in Mesa, holding the flowers your children sent you that morning.
A lady with a lamp shall stand In the great history of the land; A noble type of womanhood For all that’s beautiful and good. Excerpt from letter from Lillie T. Freeze, about 1932
Ruth May Fox has met life so radiantly, so joyously that ordinary events have been lifted above the mere doing into the realm of benediction.
~~ Louise Y. Robison ~~ on the occasion of the naming of seven great women by the Salt Lake Federation of Women’s Clubs, Feb-Mar, 1934
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If an attempt were made to list the attributes of an ideal woman, the result would be a description of Ruth M. Fox, for she embodies a combination of qualities not commonly found in one person; scrupulous personal integrity and charity for the weaknesses of others; independence and willing submission to authority; strength of will and deep humility; sudden flashes of keen wit and all-encompassing kindliness toward all; courage, and warm generosity; pride which is beautiful because it is pride in the things which are right. All of these are a part of her outstanding personality, but paramount to the definable characteristics are the more elusive ones which make her so lovably human – an understanding heart, and unbounded, unquestioning faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
All who know her love her, and those who know her best love her most.
~~ Elsie Talmage Brandley ~~ Young Woman’s Journal, Vol. 40, p. 315.
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I am sure you know, and therefore I do not need to tell you, that you will go down in history as one of the outstanding sisters of the Church.
~~ President J. Reuben Clark, Jr. ~~ December 3, 1945
Dear Sister Fox:
My health is such that I am not attempting to answer the many letters, notes, telegrams, cablegrams, and other tokens of love that were sent to me on my birthday, but I cannot allow the opportunity to pass without expressing to you my personal appreciation of your letter, and of the long and delightful friendship which I have enjoyed with you. I congratulate you on the great work accomplished in your wonderful life. You have made a great contribution to the Church and to the people. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father that he has spared your life these many years, which have been so full of service and inspiration to young and old.
May his choicest blessings abide with you and your loved ones.
Sincerely and affectionately, (signed) Heber J. Grant November 24, 1943
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