Youth Trek Guidebook 2014

Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny

yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for

you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise

deny the power of God.

Moroni 10:32

Dear Young Men and Young Women,

We are looking forward with great excitement to our pioneer trek at Martin’s Cove and Rocky Ridge this summer. Trek can be a defining moment in our lives! Elder Neal A. Maxwell said, “Defining moments are preceded by preparatory moments.”

We invite you to carefully prepare for trek by using this guide. We testify that if you carefully prepare, trek will be a meaningful and life­changing experience, and one that will help you “Come unto Christ.”

Sincerely,

The Lindon Stake Presidency

Come Unto Christ Trek Challenge

Choose a Martin, Willie, Hodgett, or Hunt Handcart pioneer to “Trek for” from the “Pioneer Stories” tab on lindontrek.com.

Record it under the “Submit Personal and Pioneer Names” tab on lindontrek.com by May 15th.

Be prepared to tell their story to your trek family.

Choose an ancestor you relate with to trek “In Honor of.” Record their name under the “Submit Personal and Pioneer Names” tab on

lindontrek.com by May 15th. Upload their picture and/or a document onto familysearch.org. Be prepared to share their story with your trek family.

Serve by helping someone else upload an ancestor’s picture and/or story on familysearch.org.

Learn the words to “Redeemer of Israel,” hymn #6.

Exercise regularly in preparation for the trek.

Participate in or present 3 Trek Family Home Evenings given out at the end of April, May, and June.

Read the stories in the “Youth Trek Guidebook” and identify how they relate to you. If you are interested, additional pioneer stories on lindontrekcom

Pray for spiritual experiences.

Optional Spiritual Preparations: Attend the temple. Sacrifice something that you enjoy for 3 days. Read your scriptures daily. Focus on Coming Unto Christ by thinking about Christ as you partake of the sacrament. Record a grandparent or an elderly person’s story and upload it on familysearch.org. Start writing your own personal history.

All documents can be found on lindontrek.com

Redeemer of Israel

1. Redeemer of Israel,Our only delight, On whom for a blessing we call,Our shadow by dayAnd our pillar by night,Our King, our Deliv'rer, our all!

2. We know he is comingTo gather his sheepAnd lead them to Zion in love,For why in the valleyOf death should they weepOr in the lone wilderness rove?

3. How long we have wanderedAs strangers in sinAnd cried in the desert for thee!Our foes have rejoicedWhen our sorrows they've seen,But Israel will shortly be free.

4. As children of Zion,Good tidings for us.The tokens already appear.Fear not, and be just,For the kingdom is ours.The hour of redemption is near.

5. Restore, my dear Savior,The light of thy face;Thy soul­cheering comfort impart;And let the sweet longingFor thy holy placeBring hope to my desolate heart.

6. He looks! and ten thousandsOf angels rejoice,And myriads wait for his word;He speaks! and eternity,Filled with his voice,Re­echoes the praise of the Lord.

Our Mission of SavingGordon B. Hinckley, First Counselor in the First Presidency, Ensign, November 1991

My beloved brethren and sisters, how blessed we are to meet together in peace in these comfortable and happy circumstances. As I have thought of this October general conference and of the inspired talks we have heard and will hear, my mind has gone back to the events of this same first Sunday of October 135 years ago when a similar meeting was convened here on Temple Square.

We did not have this great Tabernacle at that time. Our people then met in the Old Tabernacle, which stood just to the south of us. It was Sunday, October 5, 1856. On Saturday, the day before, a small group of missionaries returning from England arrived in the valley. They had been able to make relatively good time because their teams were

strong and their wagons light. Franklin D. Richards was their leader. They immediately sought out President Brigham Young. They told him that hundreds of men, women, and children were scattered along the trail that led from the Missouri River to the Salt Lake Valley. Most of them were pulling handcarts, two companies of these, with two smaller companies following behind with ox teams and wagons. The first group was probably at this time in the area of Scotts Bluff, more than four hundred miles from their destination, with the others behind them. It was October, and they would be trapped in the snows of winter and perish unless help was sent.

Brigham Young had known nothing of this. There was, of course, at that time no rapid means of communication—no radio, no telegraph, no fast mail. He was then fifty­five years of age. The next morning, the Sabbath, he stood before the people in the Tabernacle and said:

“I will now give this people the subject and the text for the Elders who may speak. … It is this. On the 5th day of October, 1856, many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with handcarts, and probably many are now seven hundred miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. The text will be, ‘to get them here.’ …

“That is my religion; that is the dictation of the Holy Ghost that I possess. It is to save the people. …

“I shall call upon the Bishops this day. I shall not wait until tomorrow, nor until the next day, for 60 good mule teams and 12 or 15 wagons. I do not want to send oxen. I want good horses and mules. They are in this Territory, and we must have them. Also 12 tons of flour and 40 good teamsters, besides those that drive the teams. …

“I will tell you all that your faith, religion, and profession of religion, will never save one soul of you in the Celestial Kingdom of our God, unless you carry out just such principles as I am now

teaching you. Go and bring in those people now on the plains.” (In Handcarts to Zion, Glendale, Calif.: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1960, pp. 120–21.)

The next morning anvils were ringing in the blacksmith shops as horses were shod and wagons were repaired and loaded.

The following morning, Tuesday, October 7th, “sixteen good four­mule teams and twenty­seven hardy young men headed eastward with the first installment of provisions. The gathering of more to follow, was pushed vigorously.” (Hafen, p. 124.)

“By the end of October, two hundred and fifty teams were on the road to give relief.” (Ibid., p. 125.)

There have been many eloquent sermons preached from the pulpits on Temple Square, but none more eloquent than those spoken in that October conference of 135 years ago.

Now let me leave that for a moment and pick up the story from another position.

A few weeks ago, it was my privilege to dedicate a monument to the memory of Ellen Pucell Unthank. It stands on the campus of Southern Utah University in Cedar City, Utah. It is a bronze figure, beautiful and engaging. It is of a little nine­year­old girl, standing with one foot tiptoe, her hair blowing back in the wind, a smile on her face, eagerly looking forward.

Ellen Pucell, as she was named, was born in a beautiful area of England where the hills are soft and rolling and the grass is forever green. Her parents, Margaret and William Pucell, were converts to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter­day Saints. From the time of their baptism in 1837 until the spring of 1856, they had scrimped and saved to go to the Zion of their people in the valleys of the Rocky Mountains of America. Now that was possible, if they were willing to pull a handcart one thousand miles across a wilderness. They accepted that challenge, as did hundreds of their fellow converts.

Margaret and William took with them their two daughters, Maggie, fourteen, and Ellen, nine. They said good­bye to loved ones they would never again see in mortality. Near the end of May they set sail from Liverpool with 852 of their convert associates. My wife’s grandmother, thirteen­year­old Mary Goble, was a part of that company, and, I like to think, played with those little girls aboard ship.

After six weeks at sea, they landed at Boston and took the steam train to Iowa City. They had expected their handcarts and wagons would be ready. They were not. There was a serious and disastrous delay. It was not until late in July that they began the long march, first to Winter Quarters on the Missouri, and from there to the Rocky Mountains.

The Pucells were assigned to the Martin Handcart Company. The Goble family, my wife’s forebears, became a part of the Cluff Wagon Company, which followed the handcarts to give help if needed.

With high expectation they began their journey. Through sunlight and storm, through dust and mud, they trudged beside the Platte River through all of the month of September and most of October. On October 19, they reached the last crossing of the Platte, a little west of the present city of Casper, Wyoming. The river was wide, the current strong, and chunks of ice were floating in the water. They were now traveling without sufficient food. Bravely they waded through the icy stream. A terrible storm arose with fierce winds bringing drifting sand, hail, and snow. When they climbed the far bank of the river, their wet clothing froze to their bodies. Exhausted, freezing, and without strength to go on, some quietly sat down, and while they sat, they died.

Ellen’s mother, Margaret, became sick. Her husband lifted her onto the cart. They were now climbing in elevation toward the Continental Divide, and it was uphill all the way. Can you see this family in your imagination?—the mother too sick and weak to walk, the father thin and emaciated, struggling to pull the cart, as the two little girls push from behind with swirling, cold winds about them, and around them are hundreds of others similarly struggling.

They came to a stream of freezing water. The father, while crossing, slipped on a rock and fell. Struggling to his feet, he reached the shore, wet and chilled. Sometime later he sat down to rest. He quietly died, his senses numbed by the cold. His wife died five days later. I do not know how or where their frozen bodies were buried in that desolate, white wilderness. I do know that the ground was frozen and that the snow was piled in drifts and that the two little girls were now orphans.

Between 135 and 150 of the Martin company alone perished along that trail of suffering and death. It was in these desperate and terrible circumstances—hungry, exhausted, their clothes thin and ragged—that they were found by the rescue party. As the rescuers appeared on the western horizon breaking a trail through the snow, they seemed as angels of mercy. And indeed they were. The beleaguered emigrants shouted for joy, some of them. Others, too weak to shout, simply wept, and wept, and wept.

There was now food to eat and some warmer clothing. But the suffering was not over, nor would it ever end in mortality. Limbs had been frozen and the gangrenous flesh sloughed off from the bones.

The carts were abandoned, and the survivors were crowded into the wagons of the rescuers. The long rough journey of three hundred, four hundred, even five hundred miles between them and this valley was especially slow and tedious because of the storms. On November 30, 104 wagons, loaded with suffering human cargo, came into the Salt Lake Valley. Word of their expected arrival had preceded them. It was Sunday, and again the Saints were gathered in the Tabernacle. Brigham Young stood before the congregation and said:

“As soon as this meeting is dismissed I want the brethren and sisters to repair to their homes. …

“The afternoon meeting will be omitted, for I wish the sisters to … prepare to give those who have just arrived a mouthful of something to eat, and to wash them and nurse them. …

“Some you will find with their feet frozen to their ankles; some are frozen to their knees and some have their hands frosted … we want you to receive them as your own children, and to have the same feeling for them.” (Handcarts to Zion, p. 139.)

The two orphan girls, Maggie and Ellen, were among those with frozen limbs. Ellen’s were the most serious. The doctor in the valley, doing the best he could, amputated her legs just below the knees. The surgical tools were crude. There was no anesthesia. The stumps never healed. She grew to womanhood, married William Unthank, and bore and reared an honorable family of six children. Moving about on those stumps, she served her family, her neighbors, and the Church with faith and good cheer, and without complaint, though she was never without pain. Her posterity are numerous, and among them are educated and capable men and women who love the Lord whom she loved and who love the cause for which she suffered.

Years later, a group in Cedar City were talking about her and others who were in those ill­fated companies. Members of the group spoke critically of the Church and its leaders because the company of converts had been permitted to start so late in the season. I now quote from a manuscript which I have:

“One old man in the corner sat silent and listened as long as he could stand it. Then he arose and said things that no person who heard will ever forget. His face was white with emotion, yet he spoke calmly, deliberately, but with great earnestness and sincerity.

“He said in substance, ‘I ask you to stop this criticism. You are discussing a matter you know nothing about. Cold historic facts mean nothing here for they give no proper interpretation of the questions involved. A mistake to send the handcart company out so late in the season? Yes. But I was in that company and my wife was in it and Sister Nellie Unthank whom you have cited was there too. We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the Church because every one of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.’” (Manuscript in my possession.)

That speaker was Francis Webster, who was twenty­six years of age when with his wife and infant child he went through that experience. He became a leader in the Church and a leader in the communities of southern Utah.

Now, my brothers and sisters, I have spent a long time telling that story, perhaps too long. This is October of 1991, and that episode of 135 years ago is behind us. But I have told it because it is true and because the spirit of that saga is as contemporary as is this morning.

I wish to remind everyone within my hearing that the comforts we have, the peace we have, and, most important, the faith and knowledge of the things of God that we have, were bought with a terrible price by those who have gone before us. Sacrifice has always been a part of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The crowning element of our faith is our conviction of our living God, the Father of us all, and of His Beloved Son, the Redeemer of the world. It is because of our Redeemer’s

life and sacrifice that we are here. It is because of His sacrificial atonement that we and all of the sons and daughters of God will partake of the salvation of the Lord. “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” (1 Cor. 15:22.) It is because of the sacrificial redemption wrought by the Savior of the world that the great plan of the eternal gospel is made available to us under which those who die in the Lord shall not taste of death but shall have the opportunity of going on to a celestial and eternal glory.

In our own helplessness, He becomes our rescuer, saving us from damnation and bringing us to eternal life.

In times of despair, in seasons of loneliness and fear, He is there on the horizon to bring succor and comfort and assurance and faith. He is our King, our Savior, our Deliverer, our Lord and our God.

Those on the high, cold plains of Wyoming came to know Him in their extremity as perhaps few come to know Him. But to every troubled soul, every man or woman in need, to those everywhere who are pulling heavy burdens through the bitter storms of life, He has said:

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28–30.)

Now, I am grateful that today none of our people are stranded on the Wyoming highlands. But I know that all about us there are many who are in need of help and who are deserving of rescue. Our mission in life, as followers of the Lord Jesus Christ, must be a mission of saving. There are the homeless, the hungry, the destitute. Their condition is obvious. We have done much. We can do more to help those who live on the edge of survival.

We can reach out to strengthen those who wallow in the mire of pornography, gross immorality, and drugs. Many have become so addicted that they have lost power to control their own destinies. They are miserable and broken. They can be salvaged and saved.

There are wives who are abandoned and children who weep in homes where there is abuse. There are fathers who can be rescued from evil and corrosive practices that destroy and bring only heartbreak.

It is not with those on the high plains of Wyoming that we need be concerned today. It is with many immediately around us, in our families, in our wards and stakes, in our neighborhoods and communities.“And the Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them.” (Moses 7:18.)

If we are to build that Zion of which the prophets have spoken and of which the Lord has given mighty promise, we must set aside our consuming selfishness. We must rise above our love for

comfort and ease, and in the very process of effort and struggle, even in our extremity, we shall become better acquainted with our God.

Let us never forget that we have a marvelous heritage received from great and courageous people who endured unimaginable suffering and demonstrated unbelievable courage for the cause they loved. You and I know what we should do. God help us to do it when it needs to be done, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Our Trek

Martin’s Cove

Tuesday, July 15: We will trek 3 miles on the Mormon / Oregon Trail from the bus parking to Cherry Creek Campground, which is West of this map.

Wednesday, July 16: We will backtrack 2 miles with our handcarts to visit Martin’s Cove. We will be following trails 1 and 2 on this map, and then cross the Sweetwater on trail 3.

After taking refuge at the abandoned Devil’s Gate Fort (near the Visitors Center), the Martin handcart company and first party of rescuers moved to a cove in the hill for better protection from the weather. They stayed five nights. After the Hunt and Hodgetts wagon companies arrived, they decided to leave wagons and equipment which could not be hauled due to the death of the animals. Dan Jones and 19 other men (3 rescuers and 17 emigrants) stayed until the next April to guard the equipment. Though they ate only animal hides and old leather for six weeks, none died due to the kindness of the Indians. (Sacred Places, LaMar C. Bennett, p. 62­63)

Rocky Ridge

Thursday, July 17: We will trek 13 miles from Sage Creek to Rock Creek Hollow. This will require that we cross Rocky Ridge.

The pioneers followed this route to avoid the Sweetwater Canyon to the South. The hill rises 541 feet in 2 miles to an elevation of 7,221 feet. In 3 miles the elevation becomes 7,300 feet. This was the highest elevation of the trail to that point, and the 13th highest of the entire trail. A very cold wind usually blew on Rocky Ridge, and snow was present even late in the summer.The Willie handcart company completed their crossing of Rocky Ridge on October 23. This grueling journey was completed in terrible conditions, and the last members of the company did not arrive in camp until 5AM on October 24 when dawn was breaking. Strawberry Creek was 40 feet wide, and some reported that their clothing froze to their bodies. They changed to dry clothes as soon as they could after crossing. The Captains who left camp to assist the stragglers returned with the corpses of the dead. (Sacred Places, LaMar C. Bennett, p. 97)

The Martin handcart company crossed Rocky Ridge three weeks later on November 16. It was bitterly cold and snowing, but none of the members had to pull handcarts because of the wagons of the Hunt and Hogett companies, plus the Grant rescue party. While crossing the ridge, the the pioneers met the Call rescue party with 10 supply wagons. Anson Call, recorded “we found them starving and freezing and dying, and the most suffering that I ever saw among human beings.” (The Price We Paid, Andrew Olsen, p. 391­392)

Selected Pioneer Stories

Levi Savage

While Levi was returning from his mission to Thailand, he was appointed by Pres. Richards as a subcaptain over 100 people in the Willie handcart company. He sailed from Burma to Boston and traveled to Iowa City, meeting the saints four days before they began their trek. He was one of the few to keep a daily journal.

When the saints reached Florence, Nebraska and faced the decision of whether to proceed so late in the season, Levi Savage was perhaps the most vocal about the dangers of pressing forward. This is understandable, considering his several thousand miles of trail experience and the memory of the Donner remains he had encountered earlier. He was a man with faith in God, but he also believed people should exercise good judgment based on reason and experience. His own journal records the following: “’I . . . then related to the Saints the hardships that we should have to endure. I said that we were liable to have to wade in snow up to our knees and shovel at night, lay ourselves in a thin blanket and lie on the frozen ground without a bed. . . . The lateness of the season was my only objection to leaving . . . . I spoke warmly upon the subject, but spoke truth.’” The young George Cunningham remembers, “’He counseled the old, weak, and sickly to stop until another spring. The tears commenced to flow down his cheeks, and he prophesied that if such undertook the journey at that late season of the year, . . . their bones would strew the way.’”

After Bro. Savage’s tearful advice, other leaders publicly called into question his faith and essentially promised the saints a safe voyage if they continued. They “’prophesied in the name of God that we should get through in safety” and that “[e]ven the elements he would arrange for our good.’” The saints perceived this response as a “rebuke” to Levi Savage. Later, when President Richards and other leaders met up with the Saints further in Nebraska, George Cunningham recounts that Bro. Savage “’was called up and was told that he would have to take back what he said at Florence . . . or be tried for his fellowship. He was forced to do so. But it reminded me of Galileo, the great Italian philosopher, who discovered that the sun stood still [but was forced to recant that truth].’”

It is interesting to note that nowhere in Bro. Savage’s journal does he report feelings of resentment or indignation at this treatment. And there is no record that Bro. Savage responded with the normal human emotions of pride, rebellion, bitterness, or anger as he experienced public reproof and the realization that many had misunderstood his words as a lack of faith and a condemnation of the handcart system. Instead he said, “’Brethren and sisters, what I have said I know to be true, but seeing you are to go forward, I will go with you, will help you all I can, will work with you, will rest with you, will suffer with you, and if necessary, I will die with you. May God in his mercy bless and preserve us.’”

Bro. Savage lived to prove his words true. He showed optimism after the cattle were lost and the saints had yoked every cow they could find, including their cattle for beef and milk and young cattle: “’Surely the hand of the Lord is with us yet.’” He grew weak and exhausted and hungry with the rest of the saints as their food began to wear out. When he saw John Linford in an extremely weakened condition, he gave up his own very last ration of flour to the man. This was the last meal John Linford ate.

When the saints climbed Rocky Ridge, Levi Savage assisted many up that hill, working hard all the way. Some would undoubtedly have perished were it not for the help he and others rendered. He buried the dead and worked tirelessly to aid the sick and slow, the grief­stricken and the frozen. He said of the night after climbing Rocky Ridge: “’Just before daylight [the wagons] returned, bringing all with them, some badly frozen, some dying, and some dead. It was certainly heartrending to hear children crying for mothers and mothers crying for children. By the time I got them as comfortably situated as circumstances would admit, . . . day was dawning. I had not shut my eyes for sleep, nor lain down. I was nearly exhausted with fatigue and want of rest.’”

“Levi Savage had the thankless task of overseeing the company’s slow, deteriorating animals. On the night of October 31, after the rest of the company had crossed the Green River, the journal records, ‘Brother Savage, with ox and cow teams, did not get to camp this evening.’”

Levi Savage has been called one of the great heroes of the trek. After being publicly criticized for his warning in Florence, his statements turned out to be true. Yet there appears to be no record that he ever reacted with pride. Instead, he humbly suffered in meekness alongside his fellow saints, accepting any assignment given him, even if unpleasant or undesirable, even at the cost of great personal risk and suffering.

Bro. Savage remained faithful until the end of his days. His suffering did not end with the trek. Once reunited with his little boy in Salt Lake, they had to live with his sister and her husband as Bro. Savage owned only the ragged clothes on his back. At one point, he couldn’t even find a way to buy himself a new pair of pants. He eventually married Ann Cooper, a widow of the Willie company with two small girls. Life was not easy for them and they lost much of what they managed to accumulate but Bro. Savage died “strong in the faith at nearly 91 years old.”

How can we have open discussions in an atmosphere of faith? How do we create the unity necessary to receive the blessings of the Holy Ghost? How do we develop the humility that Brother Savage showed?

Elizabeth Jackson

Elizabeth was the oldest of 11 children. She was baptized as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter­day Saints in 1847 when she was 15

years old. Elizabeth married Aaron Jackson on May 28, 1848. They began their emigration to America eight years later, in the spring of 1856, with their three children, ages 2, 4, and 7.

Elizabeth and her family together with her sister joined with the Martin Company. Elizabeth’s husband, Aaron, became gravely ill on the trek. On the last crossing of the Platte River Elizabeth wrote “My husband attempted to ford the stream. He had only gone a short distance when he reached a sand bar in the river, on which he sank down through weakness and exhaustion. My sister, Mary Horrocks Leavitt, waded through the water to his assistance. She raised him up to his feet. Shortly afterward, a man came along on horseback and conveyed him to the other side of the river, placed him on the bank, and left him there. My sister then helped me to pull my cart with my three children and other matters on it. We had scarcely crossed the river when we were visited with a tremendous storm of snow, hail, sand, and fierce winds.”

Once in camp, Aaron continued to struggle. Elizabeth wrote “His condition now became more serious. . . . I prepared a little of such scant articles of food as we then had. He tried to eat but failed. He had not the strength to swallow. I put him to bed as quickly as I could. He seemed to rest easy and fell asleep. About nine o’clock I retired. Bedding had become very scarce, so I did not disrobe. I slept until, as it appeared to me, about midnight. I was extremely cold. The weather was bitter. I listened to hear if my husband breathed–he lay so still. I could not hear him. I became alarmed. I put my hand on his body, when to my horror I discovered that my worst fears were confirmed. My husband was dead. He was cold and stiff—rigid in the arms of death. It was a bitter freezing night, and the elements had sealed up his mortal frame.”

“I called for help to the other inmates of the tent. They could render me no aid; and there was no alternative but to remain alone by the side of the corpse till morning. . . . Of course I could not sleep. I could only watch, wait, and pray for dawn. But oh, how the dreary hours drew their tedious length along.”

“When daylight came, some of the male part of the company prepared the body for burial. And oh, such a burial and funeral service. They did not remove his clothing—he had but little. They wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in a pile with thirteen others who died, and then covered him up in the snow. The ground was frozen so hard that they could not dig a grave. He was left there to sleep in peace until the trump of God shall sound, and the dead in Christ shall awake and come forth in the morning of the first resurrection. We shall then again unite our hearts and lives, and eternity will furnish us with life forever more.”

A few days after the death of Aaron, members of the company were so weak that there were not enough men with strength to raise the polls and pitch the tents. She wrote, “The result was that we camped out with nothing but the vault of Heaven for a roof, and the stars for companions. The snow lay several inches deep upon the ground. The night was bitterly cold. I sat down on a rock with one child in my lap and one on each side of me. In that condition I remained until morning.”

“When I retired to bed that night, being the 27 Oct., I had a stunning revelation. In my dream my husband stood by me and said, ‘cheer up, Elizabeth, deliverance is at hand.’” The next day the

advance rescue team found them. The family was helped into the Salt Lake Valley and arrived in November 1856.

Elizabeth later wrote: “I will not attempt to describe my feelings at finding myself thus left a widow with three children, under such excruciating circumstances. I cannot do it. But I believe the Recording Angel has inscribed in the archives above, and that my sufferings for the Gospel’s sake will be sanctified unto me for my good.”

Elizabeth’s suffering and sacrifice strengthened her faith. She said: “I have a desire to leave a record of those scenes and events, through which I have passed, that my

children, down to my latest posterity may read what their ancestors were willing to suffer, and did suffer, patiently for the Gospel’s sake. And I wish them to understand, too, that what I now word is a history of hundreds of others, both men, women and children, who passed through many like scenes for a similar cause, at the same time we did.”

“I also desire them to know that it was in obedience to the commandments of the true and living God, and with the assurance of an eternal reward–an exaltation to eternal life in His Kingdom–that we suffered these things. I hope, too, that it will inspire my posterity with fortitude to stand firm faithful to the truth, and will be willing to suffer, and sacrifice all things that they might be required to pass through for the Kingdom of God’s sake.”

What was the source of Sister Jackson’s strength? How did her family benefit from her strength?

John BondJohn Bond was a member of the Martin company when he was twelve years old. While waiting out a severe storm at the Red Buttes camp, before they had any hope of rescue, and while eating only four ounces of flour a day, he did something that he regretted for the rest of his life. He skipped prayer service to steal food from another family. He wrote "I could not resist the temptation, sat down and ate them all. I admit that those dumplings did me more good than all the prayers that could have been offered, but I felt I had done a great wrong in that act, and I regret in and ask God to forgive me for that temptation that overcame me in a time of hunger."

How does one repent of mistakes? Can our remorse for a mistake make us better people? How does Christ’s atonement allow us to be forgiven and receive peace for our mistakes?

John LinfordAlthough sick he still endeavored to fulfill his responsibilities. John was called to be a tent leader. “The tent captain was expected to give all his time and attention to his company, to make sure that all allotments of one pint of flour for each person were given every twenty four hours and to equalize as nearly as possible all labor, or to act as the father over his family.” He wrote the names and ages of those in his tent in his diary.

His condition worsened and eventually he had to be pulled in the handcart. As the company reached the Rocky Mountains snow began to fall. The snow was intense and they suffered greatly. His son Amasa recalled, “while father was sick and just before he died of starvation, Levi Savage emptied his flour sack to make him some skilly as it was called; after eating this he died.” John Linford died at 5:00 am on October 21 on the banks of the Sweetwater River. The rescue team would arrive later on that day.

Before he passed away, John’s wife asked if he was sorry they had undertaken the journey. He said, “No, Maria, I am glad we came. I shall not live to reach Salt Lake, but you and the boys will, and I do not regret all we have gone through if our boys can grow up and raise their families in Zion.”

What has come of the great faith and sacrifice of John Linford? His great great grandson, Mark Empey Linford said, “John and Maria’s decision to be baptized set the course for literally thousands of Linfords…To this day, most of John and Maria’s posterity is Mormon. This religion has been passed along from generation to generation.”

What are the results of the choices you make each day? How do they affect others?

Harvey CluffImmediately following the October 6, 1856 General Conference, in which Brigham Young sent out a call for rescuers to aid the Martin and Willie handcart companies, Harvey volunteered to join the rescue party. 22 teams were loaded and ready to go by the next morning. Riding east, the party had covered nearly 250 miles by October 19, when they were stopped by a sudden blizzard only miles from the stranded handcart company.

Though Harvey was not a leader in the rescue company, and was just twenty, he had an inclination to place a sign by the main road to alert passers­by of the rescue party’s location. Though the storm raged, Harvey followed the promptings of the Holy Ghost, and later wrote, “I had only been back to camp a short time when two men [rode] up from Willie’s handcart company. The signboard had done the work of salvation…The handcart company was then 25 miles from our camp, and they [Willie and Elder] had traveled that distance without food for themselves or horses and no bedding, they must have perished. I have always regarded this act of mine as the means of their salvation.”

“Every youth should contemplate upon the character he wishes to form and diligently maintain through life and then work to that end. No intelligent person in youth or old age should merely drift along. Look the world squarely in the face, listen and learn and not pass along, in life, indifferently, for there are grand lessons before you every minute. Don’t let it be said of you that life has been a failure. The royal path of life has been marked out for you by Jesus Christ himself. He that walketh therein, builds upon the foundation that withstands the winds and floods.”_Autobiography of Harvey Harris Cluff, Prelude

What does it mean to magnify our calling?

Emily Hill

Emily Hill was just twelve years old when she announced to her family that she wanted to be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter­Day Saints. Her cousin, Miriam Slade, had come to visit and was excited to tell the Hill family about a new religion. Miriam invited them to a meeting. Only Emily went to hear the missionaries preach, walking over five miles each way. She said of the experience, “It was indeed as though I had been brought ‘out of darkness into marvelous light,’ and I could not shut my eyes against it.” Her parents would not allow her to be baptized. The Elders brought Brother John Halliday to the Hill home. He bore a strong testimony that touched her older sister Julia. Now she wanted to be baptized as well. Sometime before Emily’s baptism Brother Halliday blessed her and prophesied that she would, “write in prose and in verse and thereby comfort the hearts of thousands.”

Eight years after first hearing the gospel, Emily and Julia were on board the ship Thornton bound for America. They became members of the Willie Handcart Company in Iowa City, Iowa. Emily and Julia volunteered to help Martha Campkin, a young widow, and her five small children. Without their help Martha would not have been allowed to join the company. Emily would be a great help to Martha, tending the children and helping to pull the handcart.

In England Emily had lived in a situation of wealth, education and privilege. The prospect of pulling a handcart caused her to write, “Yet, for the potent reason that no other way seemed open, and on the principle of ‘descending below all things,’ I made up my mind to pull a hand cart. ‘All the way to Zion.’”

Emily asked herself, “if it was possible for me, faith or no faith, to walk twelve hundred miles further. The flesh certainly was weak but the spirit was willing, I set down my foot that I would try, and by the blessing of God I pulled a hand cart a thousand miles and never rode one step.”

Residents in Iowa tried to persuade the saints to abandon the journey. Julia and Emily were even handed anonymous notes as inducements to stay in Iowa. Soldiers at Ft. Laramie also tried to persuade the young women to stay.

On October 19, after the last flour rations had been given and as snow began to fall, the advanced team of rescuers arrived. One of them was Joseph A. Young. Emily had known him as a missionary in England. “When Joseph Young saw Emily, he burst into tears. “Why do you cry, Brother Young?” she asked. “Oh, because you look so starved, and the provision wagons are [miles] away,” He gave her an onion from his pocket. “Rather than eat the onion, Emily held

on to it. That night she saw a man near the fire who appeared to be dying. Emily gave him the onion, and he later said that it had saved his life.”

In a blizzard on October 23, Julia collapsed from hunger and exhaustion at the summit of Rocky Ridge. It was Emily who lifted her from the snow and got her going again.

Emily, Julia and the Campkin family all made it safely to the valley.

Despite the many trials and hardships she faced, Emily remained faithful to the testimony she had gained as a young girl in England. She died in 1906 at the age of 70. Emily lived to fulfill Brother Halliday’s blessing with her numerous poems. She authored the words to the hymn, “As Sisters in Zion.”

Her hope was that, “each and all of [my children] may seek and obtain for themselves a knowledge of the truth, for I know it can make them wise unto salvation, and may they be willing if needs be to endure reproach and privation…..I doubt not that all my troubles have been for my good.”

Have you ever been asked to do something you thought was too hard for you? How do you find the courage to endure? What is the charity that motivated Emily to give the onion to someone else?

John Vat CottBrother John Van Cott was a faithful leader who had returned from a mission in Europe days before being asked to go on the rescue mission. When the handcart companies weren’t where he expected them, he assumed that they had perished and returned to Salt Lake. On the way he advised the other rescuers he met to turn around before they all freeze. Some continued, but 77 wagons with supplies turned back. Once rescuers had found the handcart companies and sent word back, Brother Van Cott turned around again to help along with the others. But precious time was wasted and people that could have been saved perished.

Can good people make serious mistakes? How can we find strength to persevere in difficult tasks? How do we forgive others who fail? How do we forgive ourselves when we fall short of our expectations?

Reddick AllredAfter providing supplies for the Willie company, some rescuers accompanied them back to Salt Lake and some proceeded to look for the Martin company. So that the search party could move faster, Reddick Allred was assigned to stay and guard the supplies until the Martin company were located. He spent three weeks seriously ill in freezing temperatures waiting, as directed by his leaders. When Brother Van Cott gave up and returned, he advised Brother Allred to accompany him back to the Salt Lake Valley. Brother Allred said no, for he knew that the lives of others depended on him and he was determined to fulfill his duty. When the Martin company arrived, they called him “the Bulldog” for his tenacity, and his supplies saved many lives.

What can we learn from Reddick Allred about following our leaders with exactness, even when it is hard? In what circumstances have others placed their confidence in us? How can we live up to that trust?

Ephraim HanksEphraim Hanks was one of the rescuers sent from the Salt Lake Valley to aid the handcart pioneers. One of the challenges of the rescue effort was actually finding the pioneers on the snow covered trail in the rugged mountains. Though many rescuers turned back or stopped to wait for improved weather, a few continued and split up to search. These are Brother Hanks’ own words about the rescue effort.

In the fall of 1856, I spent considerable of my time fishing in Utah Lake; and in traveling backward and forward between that lake and Salt Lake City, I had occasion to stop once over night with Gurney Brown, in Draper, about nineteen miles south of Salt Lake City. Being somewhat fatigued after the day’s journey, I retired to rest quite early, and while I still lay wide awake in my bed I heard a voice calling me by name, and then saying: “The handcart people are in trouble and you are wanted; will you go and help them?” I turned instinctively in the direction from whence the voice came and beheld an ordinary sized man in the room. Without any hesitation I answered “Yes, I will go if I am called.” I then turned around to go to sleep, but had laid only a few minutes when the voice called a second time, repeating almost the same words as on the first occasion. My answer was the same as before.This was repeated a third time.

When I got up the next morning I said to Brother Brown, “The hand­cart people are in trouble, and I have promised to go out and help them;” but I did not tell him of my experiences during the night.I then hastened to Salt Lake City, and arrived there on the Saturday, preceding the Sunday on which the call was made for volunteers to go out and help the last hand­cart companies in. When some of the brethren responded by explaining that they could get ready to start in a few days; I spoke out at once saying, “I am ready now!” The next day I was wending my way eastward over the mountains with a light wagon all alone. [Probably Oct. 26­27]

The terrific storm which caused the immigrants so much suffering and loss overtook me near the South Pass, where I stopped about three days with Reddick N. Allred, who had come out with provisions for the immigrants. The storm during these three days was simply awful. In all my travels in the Rocky Mountains both before and afterwards, I have seen no worse. When at length the snow ceased falling, it lay on the ground so deep that for many days it was impossible to move wagons through it.

In the meantime I continued my lonely journey, and the night after meeting Elders Young and Garr, I camped in the snow in the mountains. As I was preparing to make a bed in the snow with the few articles that my pack animal carried for me, I thought how comfortable a buffalo robe would be on such an occasion, and also how I could relish a

little buffalo meat for supper, and before lying down for the night I was instinctively led to ask the Lord to send me a buffalo. Now, I am a firm believer in the efficacy of prayer, for I have on many different occasions asked the Lord for blessings, which He in His mercy has bestowed on me. But when I, after praying as I did on that lonely night in the South Pass, looked around me and spied a buffalo bull within fifty yards of my camp, my surprise was complete; I had certainly not expected so immediate an answer to my prayer. However, I soon collected myself and was not at a loss to know what to do. Taking deliberate aim at the animal, my first shot brought him down; he made a few jumps only, and then rolled down into the very hollow where I was encamped. I was soon busily engaged skinning my game, finishing which, I spread the hide on the snow and placed my bed upon it. I next prepared supper, eating tongue and other choice parts of the animal I had killed, to my heart’s content. After this I enjoyed a refreshing night’s sleep, while my horses were browsing on the sage brush.

Early the next morning I was on my way again, and soon reached what is known as the Ice Springs Bench. There I happened upon a herd of buffalo, and killed a nice cow. I was impressed to do this, although I did not know why until a few hours later, but the thought occurred to my mind that the hand of the Lord was in it, as it was a rare thing to find buffalo herds around that place at this late part of the season. I skinned and dressed the cow; then cut up part of its meat in long strips and loaded my horses with it. Thereupon resumed my journey, and traveled on till towards evening. I think the sun was about an hour high in the west when I spied something in the distance that looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near to it, I perceived it moved; then I was satisfied that this was the long looked for hand­cart company, led by Captain Edward Martin. I reached the ill­fated train just as the immigrants were camping for the night. The sight that met my gaze as I entered their camp can never be erased from my memory. The starved forms and haggard countenances of the poor sufferers, as they moved about slowly, shivering with cold, to prepare their scanty evening meal was enough to touch the stoutest heart. When they saw me coming, they hailed me with joy inexpressible, and when they further beheld the supply of fresh meat I brought into camp, their gratitude knew no bounds. Flocking around me, one would say, “Oh, please, give me a small piece of meat;” another would exclaim, “My poor children are starving, do give me a little;” and children with tears in their eyes would call out, “Give me some, give me some.” At first I tried to wait on them and handed out the meat as they called for it; but finally I told them to help themselves. Five minutes later both my horses had been released of their extra burden–the meat was all gone, and the next few hours found the people in camp busily engaged in cooking and eating it, with thankful hearts.

A prophecy had been made by one of the brethren that the company should feast on buffalo meat when their provisions might run short; my arrival in their camp, loaded with meat, was the beginning of the fulfillment of that prediction; but only the beginning, as I afterwards shot and killed a number of buffalo for them as we journeyed along.

When I saw the terrible condition of the immigrants on first entering their camp, my heart almost melted within me. I rose up in my saddle and tried to speak cheering and comforting words to them. I told them also that they should all have the privilege to ride into Salt Lake City, as more teams were coming. . .

After dark, on the evening of my arrival in the hand­cart camp, a woman crying aloud passed the campfire where I was sitting. Wondering what was the matter, my natural impulse led me to follow her. She went straight to Daniel Tyler’s wagon, where she told the heart­rending story of her husband being at the point of death, and in pleading tones she asked Elder Tyler to come and administer to him. This good brother, tired and weary as he was after pulling hand­carts all day, had just retired for the night, and was a little reluctant in getting up; but on this earnest solicitation he soon arose, and we both followed the woman to the tent, in which we found the apparently lifeless form of her husband. On seeing him, Elder Tyler remarked, Ï cannot administer to a dead man.” Brother Tyler requested me to stay and lay out the supposed dead brother, while he returned to his wagon to seek that rest which he needed so much. I immediately stepped back to the camp fire where several of the brethren were sitting and addressing myself to Elders Grant, Kimball and one or two others, I said, “Will you boys do just as I tell you?” The answer was in the affirmative. We then went to work and built a fire near the tent which I and Elder Tyler had just visited;next we warmed some water and washed the dying man, whose name was Blair, from head to foot. I then anointed him with consecrated oil…after which we laid hands on him and commanded him in the name of Jesus Christ to breathe and live. The effect was instantaneous. The man was dead, to all appearances immediately began to breathe, sat up in his bed and commenced to sing a hymn. His wife, unable to control her feelings of joy and thankfulness, ran through the camp exclaiming: “My husband was dead, but is now alive. Praised be the name of God. The man who brought the buffalo meat has healed him.”

After this the greater portion of my time was devoted to waiting on the sick. “Come to me,” “help me,” “please administer to my sick wife,” or “my dying child,” were some of the requests that were made of me almost hourly for some time after I had joined the immigrants, and I spent days going from tent to tent administering to the sick. Truly the Lord was with me and others of His servants who labored faithfully together with me in that day of trial and suffering. The result of this our labor of love certainly redounded to the honor and glory of a kind and merciful God. In scores of instances, when we administered to the sick, and rebuked the diseases in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, the sufferers would rally at once; they were healed almost instantly. I believe I administered to several hundreds in a single day; and I could give names of many whose lives were saved by the power of God.

But I will only give the details in one more instance. One evening after having gone as far as Fort Bridger I was requested by a sister to come and administer to her son, whose name was Thomas. He was very sick, indeed, and his friends expected he would die that night. When I came to the place where he lay he was moaning pitifully, and was almost

too weak to turn around in his bed. I felt the power of God resting upon me, and addressing the young man, said: “Will you believe the words I tell you?” His response was “Yes.” I then administered to him, and he was immediately healed. He got up, dressed himself, and danced a hornpipe on the end­board of a wagon, which I procured for that purpose. But notwithstanding these manifestations of the Lord’s goodness, many of the immigrants whose extremities were frozen, lost their limbs, either whole or in part. Many such I washed with water and castile soap, until the frozen parts would fall off, after which I would sever the shreds of flesh from the remaining portions of the limbs with my scissors. Some of the emigrants lost toes, others fingers, and again others whole hands and feet; one woman [see biography for Maren Johansen, also known as Mary Johnson, (Parsons), Hunt Company] who now resides in Koosharem, Piute Co., Utah, lost both her legs below the knees, and quite a number who survived became cripples for life, but so far as I remember there were no fresh cases of frozen limbs after my arrival in camp.

Are we prepared to receive promptings? Are we willing to act upon them? How do we develop that faith? Are we ready to act as the Lord's hands when He needs us?

Arza HinckleyA week after the first rescuers left, Brigham Young asked Arza Hinckley to drive him toward the handcart companies. Due to illness, President Young had to return. A few days later Arza and his friend Dan Johnson started on the rescue journey.

The blizzard delayed the men a few days in Fort Bridger. After they got back on the trail they met two companies of rescuers who were returning home. These had gone all the way to Pacific Springs with no word from the handcart company, and so thought the search was futile.

After listening to the men’s explanation for returning home, Arza suggested the men camp while he and Dan find the handcart companies. One of the men asked why Arza felt he could find them when the others had failed. Arza replied “Brigham Young sent me to find the handcart folks, and I will find them or give my life trying.”

Eph Hanks was one of the rescuers who had turned back, and was troubled when Arza left. They had known each other a long time and previously traveled together. Eph kept thinking about the voice that had called him to help the handcart companies. He decided to catch up with Arza and Dan. When he met them Arza told him “I hoped you would follow us.” They found the Martin company more than 50 miles past Pacific Springs.

John Bleak was so grateful to Arza Hinkley that whenever he saw him, he put his arms around him and said, “My savior”. (The Price We Paid, Andrew Olsen, p. 385­387)

In what ways can good friends support one another in righteous causes? Why did these men take persevere? What does it mean to be “a savior of men”?

Daniel W. JonesTwo wagon companies were assigned to accompany the handcart pioneers in order to help should there be a problem. Yet many of the pioneers in the “independent companies” seemed more concerned about their possessions than of the welfare of the other pioneers. When preparing to leave Martin’s Cove, they were asked to leave their possessions to make room for people to ride. Daniel W. Jones was asked to stay with a small group for the rest of the winter to guard the belongings that had been left. He and his companions spent the winter freezing and close to starvation to protect those items. After returning to Salt Lake, the wagon owners accused him of stealing from them over that winter.

Did Brother Jones have an excuse for leaving that duty? Why did he stay? Do you have anything that would be hard to give up even if you knew that giving it up would save someone else?

The Spirit of Trek

President Thomas S. Monson

“Let us for a moment join Captain Edward Martin and the handcart company he led. While we will not feel the pangs of hunger which they felt or experience the bitter cold that penetrated their weary bodies, we will emerge from our visit with a better appreciation of hardship borne, courage demonstrated, and faith fulfilled. ... Our service to others may not be so dramatic, but we can bolster human spirits, clothe cold bodies, feed hungry people, comfort grieving hearts, and lift to new heights precious souls.” (“My Brother’s Keeper”, General Conference, April 1990)

President Gordon B. Hinckley

“It is good to look to the past to gain appreciation for the present and perspective for the future. It is good to look upon the virtues of those who have gone before, to gain strength for whatever lies ahead. It is good to reflect upon the work of those who labored so hard and gained so little in this world, but out of whose dreams and early plans, so well nurtured, has come a great harvest of which we are the beneficiaries. Their tremendous example can become a compelling motivation for us all, for each of us is a pioneer in his own life, often in his own family, and many of us pioneer daily in trying to establish a gospel foothold in distant parts of the world. ... As we reflect on those who have gone before us, and as we consider our present labors for the good of ourselves and others, would that we all might say each day, ‘I am doing my work faithfully and in good faith.’” (“The Faith of the Pioneers”, Ensign, July 1984)

These words are on a monument near Martin’s Cove:

“We hope that a spirit of peace and reverence and sacred remembrance will hover over this whole area as a beneficent cloud on a hot summer day, and that those who here perished will not have died in vain.

I make a plea, go in a spirit of reverence and respect, and know that you are walking on hallowed ground.” ­ Gordon B. Hinckley, May 3, 1997

President Hinckley stated at the dedication of the Martin’s Cove Visitors’ Center on May 3, 1997,

“May the tale of the great migration of the Mormon people be here remembered and spoken of with love. May all who come here be filled with a spirit of reverence as they recall the experiences of their forbearers. May a spirit of solemnity rest upon them.”(Mormon Handcart Historic Sites in Wyoming: Handbook for Trek Leaders)