Chloe Rogers

Other Events and Attributes:

• FamilySearch ID: KW8D-MHN
• Initiatory (LDS): 9 Aug 1945, LOGAN

Chloe married Dean Oliver Hansen on 9 Aug 1945 in Logan, Cache, Utah, United States. Dean (son of Augustus Hansen and Lydia Emma Whipple) was born on 27 Jul 1923 in Lakeside, Navajo, Arizona, United States; was christened on 7 Oct 1923 in Lakeside, Navajo, Arizona, United States; died on 4 Nov 1989 in Littleton, Arapahoe, Colorado, United States; was buried in Littleton, Arapahoe, Colorado, United States. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Other Events and Attributes:

• FamilySearch ID: KWJK-3SC
• Initiatory (LDS): 11 Sep 1913, SLAKE

Notes:

The little town of Pima, Graham County, Arizona, was less than ten y e a r s old when I was born December 2, 1888 to Bishop Joseph Knight Roge r s a n d Louisa Christina Roseberry. My Father was known as J. K. Roger s , an d h e had three wives and three families... Trying to make a new h o m e fo r three families in a new place with the Indians and U. S. Marsh a l s haras sing one was a very difficult matter. These, together with t h e f act tha t Father was the only Mormon Bishop within 200 miles, a mem be r o f the Leg islature, and general advisor for the Church members mad e m atte rs worse. He was the first Bishop of the Pima Ward. He was know n a s th e Fathe r of Graham County. As a member of the Territorial Legis latu re o f Arizon a he introduced and secured the passage of the legisla tio n tha t created t he County. At that time it included all of what i s no w Green lee County. He was born December 20, 1844 at Putnam County , India na, H is father w as Ross Ransom Rogers. His grandfather, David W hite Rog ers, was one of t hree who were selected to purchase Nauvoo. H e was know n a s “Doctor” in P rovo, Utah.

My Father was killed at the age of sixty-two in a street car accid e n t i n Douglas, Arizona on December 17, 1906. He left two wives and tw en t y ch ildren living, the youngest, Susanna Rogers (Costner), was les s th a n on e year old. Aunt Josephine Wall Rogers, Father’s first wife , had e i ght l iving children; my Mother, Father’s second wife, had te n living c hi ldre n and Aunt Mary Fuller, Father’s third wife who died s hortly afte r g ivin g birth to her second son, left two sons. All of hi s children we r e prese nt at his services except one, James Knight (Jimm ie) Rogers, w h o was in t he Philippines in the U. S. Army. Father was b uried in a pri v ate buria l plot selected from his homestead directly we st of Pima, th e t own he fou nded and helped to grow to a thriving tow n at his death.

My Mother, known all over the valley as “Aunt Louisa” was loved, a s t h e w ord implies, by all. No one had a bigger, better conducted an d mo r e rea l love shown than was at her funeral in Pima where she had l ive d mo re tha n seventy-five years. Mother did not pray in church, bu t sh e di d night a nd morning every day in her own four walls. Mother di d no t pre ach her re ligion, but lived it. Every one knew where Aunt Lou isa s too d on all ques tions, or how she felt about you. She never tol d anyon e an ything abou t a friend or neighbor that she would not tell h im to hi s fac e at the fir st chance she had, good or bad. She was nearl y ninet y at th e time of he r death and was rational up to the time sh e passed a way. T o show this le t me relate an instance.

Mother fell and injured herself. She had been in bed two months. I t a l k ed with her, and among other remarks I said, “Mother, you are ver y si c k a ren’t you?” She replied, “No, just lazy. Just think, I have be e n i n be d for two months. I should get up and help the girls with th e wo rk. ” I immediately drove to my home in Mesa, Arizona, about 3 ½ hou rs dr i ve, and had just got in the house when they phoned and said tha t she h a d pa ssed away.

My first recollections are of people and things in and around Pima, Ar i z o na. My first Sunday School, first day school, first people I knew , in c lu ding Mother’s and Father’s friends, my playmates, first hoein g of we ed s, first sunburns, first ant stings, first ride to the reservo ir o n a tw o- wheel cart Father had fixed up, first two-room log house w e liv ed in w he n Mother had five children and Grandma Roseberry came t o sta y with us, an d many other first recollections that I cannot rememb er now .

We moved from town to the reservoir, two dry, dusty, and in the summ e r t i me, hot two miles out of town. We were compelled to walk this dis ta nc e n ight and morning every day to school, church, socials, and man y ti me s o n business. In the winter time, it was cold and sometimes wet . I n o rde r to get to school by 9:00 A.M. it was necessary to start abo ut 8 :1 5 to b e sure of getting there on time. We did not need much exer cis e i n game s to make us healthy. And always chores milking cows, feed in g pig s, hoei ng weeds, and getting water from the well down in the wa s h abou t 200 yard s from the house. Our social life was almost nil beca us e of t he inconven ience. Night parties and many shows, church gatheri ng s if a t night, wer e missed.

In December 1896 I was eight years of age, and we moved to the ran c h i n M arch 1897. I had many experiences in commuting to school, churc h , so cial s, and work. School days we would take a lunch or go without ; a nd f o r a growing boy who worked hard, going without lunch was a ter ribl e thi n g to happen. We were always poor, and while Mother always sa w t o it th a t we had some kind of lunch, it was not always considered u p t o par wi t h many of the other lunches the children brought to school . On e day Mo th er put up some baking powder biscuits, without butter o r anyt hing on t hem; but she put in the lunch pails a small jar of molas ses t o put on th em. I was carrying to lunch, and at noon with a dozen o r mor e boys arou nd, I handed my brother Dave a biscuit. He haughtily sa id, “ I don’t wan t t hat old dry biscuit!” The boys picked it up, and h e was k nown afte r tha t as “Biscuit Rogers” or “Dry Biscuit Rogers”. As k any ol d timer o f Pima.

When Father died I was 18 years of age. Mother had two children at ho m e : Aunt Charlotte (Lottie) and Uncle Joseph older than I; three brot h e r s (David, Wallace, and Millard) and four sisters (Lena, Louise, Mar y , a n d Susanna) younger than I, Susanna being less than one year old . Wi th i n ten months both Joseph and Lottie married, which left me th e elde s t o f the children at home. I quit school and went to Globe-Miam i to wo r k i n the mines. I made good money, or thought I did, and sen t most o f i t ho me to help the family. It was one for all and all for o ne.

At this point I desire to tell of an instant that happened, which sh o w s t he kind of a Mother, Aunt Louisa was. In those days the Deacons g at h ere d up what was called the Fast Day offerings which consisted in t h e ma in o f vegetables, fruit, meat, butter, eggs or some other articl e t he fa mil y had and could spare some of. On a warm November evening j us t befor e su n down, Bishop Philemon C. Merrill drove out from town i n hi s buckbo ard w ith that month’s Fast Day gatherings. He said, “Siste r Rog ers, w e though t you were the proper one to give this month’s Fas t offer ings to.” Witho ut any hesitation Mother walked up to the Bisho p and poin ted he r finger a t him and said, “Bishop, since you have brou ght this ou t her e we will tak e it this time; but don’t you ever brin g any more t o us. M e and my Child ren can make our own way.” And we did .

A few recollections of my Father. One time he and I were going fro m P i m a to Clifton, about 60 miles. It took the afternoon of one day, t he f u l l day of the second, and the forenoon of the third, because of t he wa te ri ng places. We drove the the San Jose Canal, just east of Solo mon, A ri zon a and camped over night. It was about 30 miles over the mou ntai n t o th e Gila River where we stayed over night again, and by noo n we we re i n Cli fton. On this trip I learned a lesson about eating can dy. Fath e r bough t me some hard mint candy, and before we had driven te n mile s i t was near ly all gone. I became thirsty, and it was hard to s top t o ge t a drink, a nd so I thirsted for several hours; also, I got h ungr y befor e noon. It w as not good to gulp it all down in a hurry.

I learned that for one commencing a long trip with horses or on foo t , i t is best to take a steady gait and keep it up all day rather th a n g o fas t at the beginning and get all tired out quickly and unabl e t o fini sh. F ather also told me many instances that happened during t he s ettlin g of th e Valley and especially Pima. I learned why he entere d int o poly gamy. H e said that it was the desire of the Church that al l Bisho ps an d Stake Pr esidents enter into the plural marriage relation s. His f irs t wife agree d that if it was the desire of the Church she w ould comp ly. When Fathe r asked Mother to marry him, she said, “How doe s Josephi n e feel about thi s matter?” Father replied that Josephine wa s agreeab l e to it. But Mothe r, desiring to make sure, put Father off u ntil she c o uld talk with Joseph ine. Mother said, “Josephine, JK has as ked me to m a rry him. How do yo u feel about it?” Josephine replied tha t it was alr i ght. But Father als o asked the third woman to marry him . She did no t a sk Josephine about th e matter, and a lot of unpleasantn esses ensued . Au nt Mary lived only abo ut three years after her marriag e to Father , but s he left two sons who li ved to a ripe old age.

Father married Mother, Louisa Roseberry, and Mary Fuller both the sa m e d a y in October, 1882 in the St. George, Utah temple. Temples were t h e on l y proper place to have plural marriages performed, as they wer e co nside re d illegal by the laws of the U.S. Government. This was eigh t yea rs be for e the “Manifesto” of 1890 wherein the Church agreed to di sconti nue pl ura l marriages, but refused to give up the women they ha d marrie d befor e th e manifesto, and before the law had been declared c onstituti onal b y the S upreme Court of the U.S. by a vote of five to fo ur. Bitte r perse cution s followed, especially in Arizona. Many polygami sts went t o Mexic o to ke ep from being prosecuted. Mother was the firs t Mormon wom an to a ccompan y her husband to Mexico because of polygamy , but Father d id not l ike th e government down there and did not stay . He said, “I wou ld rathe r be i n prison in the U.S. than to be as fre e as they appear t o be in Me xico.”

I remember as a boy about 14 when the United States Marshall cam e t o o u r house and took Father away for polygamy, for living his relig io n as t h e Church authorities directed him to do. This not only kept h i m from e ar ning, but he was required to pay a $250.00 fine, and mone y wa s hard t o co me by at that time. Then they left him alone. There we re si x polyg amist s in our town, but Father was the only one they bothe red. I t appea red th at he was the only prominent one of the lot, that i s, poli tically. Fathe r could beat the Gentiles in politics, and this wa s thei r way o f eliminat ing opposition. Father stayed true to his coven ants an d vow s taken in th e Temples of our God.

I graduated from the 8th grade when I was 16, at least one year behi n d t i me, due to having towork on the newly-acquired farm so much of t h e tim e s chool was in session. There were five schools in the Valley t ha t ha d gra duates that year: Solomonsville, Layton, Safford, Thatche r an d Pim a. Th ere were so few that passed that they held joint graduat ion e xerci ses i n Pima for all five schools. An eighth grade educatio n was co nside red fa irly well educated in those days; not many got tha t much.

The only high school that was in the County was the L.D.S. St. Josep h S t a ke Academy in Thatcher. I started to attend the Academy, but th e extr e m e effort entailed, together with the fact that I was needed o n the fa r m, caused me to stop before Christmas. I walked the two mile s to to w n i n the morning and would get in a buggy and ride the six mil es to Th at cher; then in the evening ride back to Pima and walk the tw o miles ou t t o th e reservoir, do the chores and crawl into bed for hap py dreams , fo r the a ctual outlook seemed long, hard and uncertain.

During the next few years I tried other ways to get more schoolin g a t t h e Academy; I got two years of high school during the next six y ears . T wo, three or four of us boys would rent a room in Thatcher. We w oul d ei the r get someone to take us up there Sunday evening or walk; a n d I walke d mo re than half of the time, and carried most of what we h a d to eat dur ing t he week, and then walk back Friday evening; and tho s e eight miles s ometim es seemed endless.

My Academy social life was almost nil, worse than my town affair, bec a u s e they held most of their dances and other entertainments on Frida y n ig ht. The dances in those days usually lasted until about two A.M. , an d w alk ing that eight miles after that time of night made the pric e of s tayi ng t oo high in most instances. Because of these experiences , and th e fa ct th at not more than half of the Pima Elementary School g raduate s atten ded th e Academy for more schooling, while nearly 100 per cent o f the That cher st udents attended, has made me an advocate of loc ating t he school s as clos e as possible to the homes of the students: e lementar y, high sc hool, an d colleges, even if it does cost the tax pay ers mor e money. I t costs th e students less and more get an education . A bette r educatio n because th e parents can influence them longer per iods of th e day. Th e parents like wise can partake of the school and sc hool life m ore in abu ndance. The la st year I attended the Academy, Unc le Dave Roge rs and I l ived in a 10x1 0 tent that we pitched on James A . Duke’s lot w est of That cher. It was l ocated so that we could slip i n from the railr oad, or th e back way, and n ot be seen carrying our pac ks on our backs i n and out. It took me unti l the Spring of 1911 to ge t a certificate show ing tha t I could keep books, type and take dictatio n. I could take abou t 75 wo rds a minute and typ e around 35. My bookkee ping was fair, but th e onl y time it came in use w as when I kept the No rthern States Missio n book s in 1913 and 1914 in Chic ago, and while I w as Stake Clerk of th e Mt. Gr aham Stake. Of course, a k nowledge of thi s kind is always usefu l in one ’s own business. My typin g knowledge ha s been useful all my pro fessiona l years. The shorthand I l ost quick.

I was twenty-four past when I went on my Mission in August, 1913. A n d t w enty-six years and nearly ten months of age when my sweetheart o f a bou t t hree years met me in Salt Lake City, Utah where we were marri ed i n th e Sa lt Lake Temple for time and all eternity, October 1st, 191 5 – a nd Gl ady s Haws became Gladys Haws Rogers. I only hope and pray th at th e addi tio n has really added and not detracted from her otherwis e possib ilitie s an d accomplishments.

We, or I, was in debt for part of my mission expense and the expen s e o f G ladys coming to SLC, and other incidentals. Right here let me g iv e s om e good advice to my grandsons: at least give your fiancee a goo d r ing, ev en if you have to borrow the money to get it, or purchase i t on t ime; the n take a honeymoon, even a short one, even if you are req uired t o b orro w the money to do it. But, here is the proper catch to t his, le t he r kno w what you are doing about your money matters, then sh e will w illin gly he lp to save to pay it back. This will be one of th e best fina ncia l experi ences of your life time, but be honest. Glady s Haws came th roug h lik e a Princess, which she is, and she has been do ing more than h er sh are fo r nearly fifty years, and will continue as l ong as life last s. Ho nesty, hard work and thriftiness conquers all.

If you live the Gospel, by serving in capacities requested, paying tit h i n g and offerings, keeping the Sabbath Day holy, don’t be afraid to i nv e s t in a home, solid investments, after praying about it, and necess iti e s a nd an education. We have practiced this, and now in our 50th ye a r o f mar riage, after starting in debt of over $500.00, we are able t o f inan ce ou r fourth mission (explained later) and not deplete our fin ance s a t all.

Before I went on my mission I served as Ward Teacher with older me n w h e n I was a Deacon, Sunday School teacher and Stake MIA secretary . Aft e r c oming home I was Sunday School teacher over 30 years, MIA tea cher , Yo un g Men ward president, President 1st Quorum of Elders, one o f th e Seve n Pr esidents of the 89th Quorum of Seventy, Secretary of th e Hig h Priest s Quo rum, Stake Genealogical chairman, Stake MIA Board me mber , head War d teach er, building committee member, and Stake Clerk o f th e Mt. Graha m Stake a t a time when there were no assistants. As Sta ke Cl erk it appe ared tha t I acted more as a Councilor than as Clerk, b ecaus e I interview ed peopl e for Stake positions, held Ward conferences , an d entertained th e Genera l Authorities in our home when they were a ttend ing Stake confere nces in o ur Stake, which we both enjoyed. The cr ownin g position, Church wise, is t hat of being an ordained temple worke r. I h ave had some kin d of Church p osition for more than 60 years.

Our first mission was served in Chicago, Illinois and Milwaukee, Wisco n s i n mostly during 1913, 1914, and 1915. Our second mission was whe n o u r so n Walter was out in 1934, 1935 and 1936. He was District Presi de n t in Sc ranton, Pennsylvania, where we are serving part of our fourt h m is sion. O ur third mission was to the Pima Indians at San Tan (Sacat on ) o n the Gil a River 25 miles directly south of Mesa, Arizona in Mes a St ake. I serve d as President of the Branch all the time without counc ilor s o r clerk.

I told the Brethren and audience at the time I was released that I se r v e d 1958, 1959 and 1960 as Branch President, three years; and as 1s t Co un ci lor 1958, 1959 and 1960, three years, six years; 1958, 1959 an d 196 0 a s 2 nd Councilor, three years, nine years; 1959, 1959 and 196 0 as Bra nc h cler k, three years, twelve years in all. I thought that wh en we ca m e home fr om the Reservation that we had served our time excep t to War d t each or g o to the Temple; but here we are, March, 1965 o n a missio n toge ther in Sc ranton, Pa., where Walter served 30 years ag o. When thi s miss ion will en d, or where we will work, is in the hand s of our super iors an d the good L ord.

There are very few people that has had a wider variety of jobs, posit i o n s or services, both in the Church and out than I have had. There a r e f e w kinds of jobs, positions or services that I have not experience d : rou g h jobs, hard jobs, dirty jobs, menial jobs, lonely jobs, pleasa n t jobs, p oor-paying jobs, honorable jobs, office jobs, store jobs, tea ch ing jo bs, janitorial jobs, elected jobs, and appointed jobs. I have p ion eere d i n that I have grubbed stumps, dug ditches, levelled land, bu il t reser voir s, dug wells, plowed new and old land, planted and harves te d most ki nds o f crops, farm and orchard. I have worked on the bailer , t hreshin g macine, and harvesters. I have pitched hay, bucked bales, s acke d grai n, and st acked hay and grain. I have worked in the mines o f Arizo na. I have work ed in the logging camps and in the timber and aro und sa w m ills, grist mil ls, and planning mills. I have gone into the m ountai n fo r lumber and tim bers and wood. I have camped out in all kind s of we athe r and many undesi rable places, together with pleasant hunti ng or ca mping -out conditions. I always liked to hunt rabbits, quail, du cks or de er, but never like d to fish too well, perhaps it was becaus e I could no t c ompete with other s.

The first year after we were married I tried farming, the next yea r I w o r ked in a general mercantile store in Pima, then a year on a dai ry i n Mi am i, Arizona. I got the job as janitor of the Pima Public Scho ols c omme nci ng with the school term of 1918. This job I held for six y ears . I a dde d the janitor’s job for the Church, also that of Constabl e an d Town M arsh all of Pima for two years, and Justice of the Peace tw o yea rs. Duri ng th e time I was janitor I observed the school teachers , and c onsidere d tha t if one did not have to know any more than they s eemed t o know, I just a s well be a school teacher’ so I went up to th e County S eat an d passed th e required examination and secured my certi ficate to t each. I taught sch ool in Pima for three years. While teachin g I had th e ch ance to observ e the lawyers and considered that if one d id not hav e to k now any more th an they seemed to know, I just as wel l be a lawyer ; s o I went to Phoenix, Arizona and passed the Bar examina tion in Novemb e r 1925 and have bee n a licensed lawyer since that time . I was nearl y 3 0 years of age whe n I started my public life, and her e are the offic es a nd time of servic e of each. Janitor, 6 years; Const able, 2 years; T ow n Marshall, 2 years; Justice of the Peace, 2 years; s chool teacher , 3 ye ars; Clerk of the To wn of Pima, 25 years; County At torney of Grah am Coun ty, Arizona, 12 years; and Assistant Attorney Gene ral of the Stat e of Ar izona 4 years. I am n early 77 at the time of thi s writing. Doe s it ad d up right? Try it an d see. It happened that way.

I was able to accomplish these things with only two years of high sc h o o l formal education, but that generation has passed and now a forma l d eg re e is necessary in all walks of life. I have considered my law e xper ie nc e has broadened me and made it possible to render better servi ce fo r m y C hurch and community and country.

A few firsts. I was the first of my Father’s children to go on a mis s i o n for the Church. I was the first of my Father’s children, althoug h t h er e were eleven older than I, to be married and sealed in the Temp le . I wa s the first person that was born in Pima or Graham County to be c o me a law yer. I was the first Graham County born person to be electe d C o unty Atto rney of Graham County, Arizona. I was the first person ev er e l ected thre e straight times as County Attorney of Graham County, a nd m y 1 2 years a s County Attorney has set a record not equaled in Ariz ona . I w as the fir st male born person in Pima to teach school in Pima . I w as th e first ma n to become janitor of the school and for many yea rs hel d it l onger tha n anyone else. I was the first native born Pimait e to se rve i n the Attor ney General's office of the State of Arizona. M y son, W alter, was my Fat her’s first grandson to go on a mission and th e first t o bec ome a lawyer. There may be other firsts, but they don’t c ome to m y min d except one t hat I claim (?); and since they are there a nd I have n’t he ard of anyone e lse claiming it, I might as well. Durin g the 60 ye ar s I lived in Graha m County, I dug the Gila River and buil t Mt. Graham . Of course, there we re others who helped some, perhaps.

We have five children and 21 grandchildren, one grandson-in-law, a n d o n e great granddaughter. We are proud of each of them. Our first bo rn , Wa lter C. Rogers, was born September 16, 1916 at Pima, Arizona. O u r s econd, Clara Rogers Toronto, born February 1, 1920 at Pima, Arizon a . Ou r thir d, Della Rogers Denham, born May 18, 1922 at Pima, Arizona . O ur f ourth, Garna Rogers Taylor, born January 6, 1925 at Pima, Arizon a. O u r fift h and last, Chloe Rogers Hansen, born May 26, 1926 at Pima , Ariz on a.

All of our children were married in the Temples of the Church and a r e a l l real heavy workers in the Church. All of our children and thei r s pou se s have a college degree except Chloe and Dean, who are makin g mor e mon e y and serving as well as any of the others.

We think our family will match favorably, even with the Fletcher Mot h e r o f the Year Family, and far ahead of most of the Church familie s o f ou r ti me and our age. We are very thankful for all our children , thei r sp ouses, grandchildren, and Sylvia and Jeddy. We are thankful t hat w e ca n do so mething for the Church and others, rather than to be l ike so me wh o are re quired to take assistance from their children, Chur ch, o r the go vernment. We believe that if one lives the Gospel and pay s an ho nest ti the, he n ot only will not want, but will be able to assi st other s and d o good in t he Church.

I would like to return to the time when we moved to the Reservoir . W e w e re truly pioneering. New land to grub, clear, level, plow, plan t, a n d ge t water from the mountain in the Spring and store it in the p ond , o r we d id not grow anything. Our animals, horses, cows, pigs an d chic ken s wer e few, and we needed to sell every increase that we coul d in or de r to ge t things that were needed that could not be grown or g otten ot her wise. O ur eggs, chickens, pigs and calves were sold, and w e got ou r mea t as th e pioneers did. There were plenty of rabbits, quai l and duc k i n season, and deer in the mountain. We could and did trap t he quail a n d duck, an d watch and get a rabbit with every shot. This us ually kep t u s in a fair ly good supply of wild meat most of the year, a nd I thoug ht i t was good.

Joseph, my 3 ½ year older brother, and I would take a team and wag o n t o t he foot of the mountain and unhitch the horses. Joseph would ta k e on e ho rse and ride farther into the mountain and get a deer whil e I w oul d be ch opping wood. We would bring back a load of wood, and fr om 7 0 t o 100 poun ds of deer meat. The wood and meat would last about t he sa m e time, and t his was repeated many times during the winter month s. I f t here was a la w against killing deer at that time, no one care d abou t it. We rarely ev er shot quail for two reasons: bullets cost mon ey, an d w e could trap them. Joseph made a trap that would stay set al l the tim e. We would set thi s trap near where we thought the quail wer e and lea v e it, then return eve ry evening. Nearly always there would b e from s i x to ten quail in the tr ap. We would take them out and re-bai t it an d r epeat the performance dai ly, except that we would move the t rap to d iffe rent locations. We trappe d skunks, wildcats and coyotes fo r their f ur, and thereby pick up a littl e extra money and at the same t ime clea n ou t the pests. We had rattlesna kes, Gila monsters, and othe r varmint s t o deal with, along with the eleme nts and new country.

At the time Father died, December 17, 1906, Mother had 10 children a t h o m e, five girls and five boys, ranging in age from Lottie, 23, to S usan n a, one year. Joseph got married in July, 1907, and Lottie in Octob er , 1 90 7. That left four boys and four girls at home. I was the eldes t a n d onl y eighteen: Chas., David, Wallace, Millard, Lena, Louise, Mar y, a n d Susa nna, in that order.

We seemed to be getting along fairly well, clearing up more land, get t i n g a few more livestock around, and getting a little better ways o f tr an sp orting to and from town, when in November of 1912 Millard, Len a’s t win, d ied. He had all the promises of being the genius of the fami ly, i f t her e was any one. He was nearly sixteen. In January, 1913, jus t tw o mo nth s later, Wallace, nineteen years of age, died. He was the a thlet e o f th e family. We thought he could do as much work as any one p erso n liv ing a nd do it easy. This left six of us at home. I was gettin g see dy, and Da ve was in full bloom. The four girls were in school.

I started to keep company with Gladys Haws, January 1, 1913. She w a s t o o young to get married, and I knew it, but it seemed that I coul d n ot k ee p away from her. The more I went with her the better I like d her , an d th is was beginning to become a problem. I was old enough t o get m arri ed, b ut did not have what it took financially to do so, bu t I conti nue d to g o with Gladys. I thought she started to like me bett er as tim e we nt alon g. One night in the latter part of May, 1913 we we re goin g t o a dance i n the Weech Hall in Pima. I stopped at the post o ffice an d g ot our mail. There was a letter from Box B, Salt Lake City , Utah. I t w as my call t o go on a mission to the Northern States, an d that I wa s t o report at hea dquarters in Salt Lake City in August, 19 13. This cal l w as a complete su rprise to me, as no one had discussed i t with me . I di d not see how I co uld go on a mission as our finance wa s almost n il an d Mother had sustaine d her great losses so short a tim e before. Wi th th ree of her four unmarr ied sons departing from the hom e in nine mon ths lo oked hard to bear. Bu t Mother, as always, was equa l to the task a nd too k it like a soldier sh e was.

In those days a missionary just went to SLC, met with one of the lea d i n g authorities who set him apart. He went through the Temple, an d h e w a s off. I went through on Thursday for myself and Friday for Wal lace , t he n went down to Richfield over the weekend to see my Aunt Emm a Jens en a n d family. One of those nights I had a dream, vision, or pre sentmen t o f s ome kind. The things I saw and heard at that time are sti ll vivi d i n m y memory, and are as follows. Both of my brothers were De acons a t th e ti me of their deaths. I was ordained an Elder for Wallac e at th e tim e I we nt through the Temple for him, and this presentmen t came bef or e I had bee n ordained for Millard, or been through the Tem ple for him .

I saw in vision an ordinary business street with houses reasonably c l o s e together. There were people walking up and down the sidewalk. Th e r e w as a meeting being held in a building, similar to a church. Ther e w e r e a great many people in the building, and I could see my brothe r Wal la c e in the pulpit speaking to the congregation. Millard, who wa s up t o t hi s time only a Deacon, was ushering at the door. Some one sa id to h im, “W hy don’t you go up and help your brother?” Millard replied , “I don ’ t hav e that authority yet, but I will in a few days.” The fol lowing Mo n da y I was ordained an Elder for Millard and went through th e Temple f o r hi s endowments. The dream has remained as vivid the pas t 50 years , i t seem s, as when received.

Before I left I asked Gladys to marry me, and she said she would; a n d s h e met me in Salt Lake City on my return from a 27 month mission . W e we r e married October 1, 1915 in the Salt Lake Temple.

I presume that the people of the Pima Ward realized how poor we we r e a n d each of our parents, so the Ward gave us a surprise wedding sho we r pa rt y. I believe every one in the Ward came out and each gave us s ome thin g. This helped us a lot to get started.

The first move we made was from town to the reservoir. We had so li t t l e furniture that we put it all in the bed of a wagon. We laid a can v a s o ver it, and the canvas swayed because there was not enough furnit u r e to r aise it up above the level of the wagon box bed. So what we h a v e has bee n acquired since that time as best we could. We never pai d re n t for a ho use to live in all during our married life.

We built our first house on a 16-acre tract which was a part of my Fat h e r ’s homestead just west of Pima. It consisted of two rooms. Sun-dr i e d ad obe made the walls, soft pine the floors. But it was warm and co mf o rtabl e, and it was ours when we got it paid for, and we did.

First Mission Experience

I arrived in Chicago, Illinois on a Friday about the middle of Augus t , 1 9 13. There were 13 of us Elders in the group. It was late at nigh t w h e n we arrived. We got us a room near the Central Depot for the nig ht . Th e next day we walked and rode the street car out to Logan Squar e , 2 757 No rth Sawyer, Chicago. We got to the office about ten A.M. Th e y sp ent th e rest of the day finding out who we were and fitting us o u t wit h virtual ly a mule’s load of B. of M. and tracts to take on a si x- week h ike throug h the country. They paired us off, one experienced E lde r wit h a rookie, but they had only 12 experienced Elders to make th e tri p. I t ended u p that I was the one left out, so I did not get th e experi enc e of cross-c ountry hiking or doing missionary work as had b een expla ine d to me it wa s done. I was assigned to do some tracting ne ar the chu rch, but this las ted only about ten days.

They were building the Chapel and Mission Office at Logan Square. I t n e e ded a lot of hard work cleaning up around and landscaping and fin ishi n g i n many ways. I was big and strong and did not know any bette r tha n t o d o about two men’s work each day, so I was assigned to do th is rou gh w or k on the Church. They were moving from 110 South Pauline S treet , an d ha d a lot of furniture and office supplies and equipment t o me mo ved. We r ented a large dray that was pulled by horses; there wer e few au to mobile s and no trucks in those days. I drove the team to an d from th e c hurche s several times, and of course did the necessary par t of bac k wor k incide nt to moving.

One day I drove the dray loaded with pews from South Pauline Stree t t o S o uth Chicago and back, about 40 miles round trip, so they said . On m y w a y down I wanted a drink, so I stopped and got off and starte d i n a plac e, when a Colored policeman said, “Where yo alls going?” I r epli ed, “Ju s t wanting a drink.” He said, “Yo alls better git down th e roa d a piec e; this is all Colored here.” I did.

They were hurrying to get the new Chapel finished in order to have i t d e d icated at the time they held a general conference of all the Elde r s o f th e mission, about 160 strong. I was out in the front yard of t h e Chu rch d igging and working in just plain digging clothes, when a gr ou p of E lder s came by, going to the office. I knew they were Elders, b u t did no t thi nk I would know any of them, so just kept on working. Ju s t as the y got e ven with me I looked up and there was Earl Cluff. H e i s Gladys ’ cousin, and I grew up with him in Pima. He was the first p erso n I ha d seen fo r over three months that I had known previously . I was t he onl y person h e had seen that he previously knew for abou t a year. H e did n ot recogniz e me, but I did him, and spoke to him cal ling him b y his firs t name. H e was startled, surprised, and happy. W e had severa l chats du ring the ti me he was at the conference.

President Joseph F. Smith came out and dedicated the building. At t h i s m eeting two of his sons were returning from England from their mis si on s. They walked up into the pulpit area and kissed their father; th i s w a s the first time I had seen grown men kiss each other.

After the conference was over and all the Elders reassigned, Elder Ro g e r s remained at Logan Square, much to my surprise. I was one of th e f e w El ders that could take dictation, type, and keep books, so tha t wa s m y lo t for the next 14 months. Bookkeeping, mission secretary, a nd ge ner al fl unkie for the mission and office. At the end of this tim e I ha d tr avele d around Chicago so much that I thought I could go an y place a nd re turn, sometimes with one street car ticket. We learn to s ave.

As time went on I was smarting under the fact that I had not had an y r e a l missionary experiences. I had discussed this with President Ell swor t h. The Branch President of the Milwaukee Branch died. He was runn i n g a b akery shop, making and selling bakery goods, even selling to st or es. S o I was assigned to run a bakery for about two months. Still n o re a l mis sionary experiences. Then I was put in charge of the Wiscons in Co n ferenc e as President. I had about 45 Elders and about 800 Saint s scatt e red al l over the State.

For two weeks I did country work with three Elders. We walked fro m t o w n to town and held street meetings at nearly every place we cam e to . O u r custom was to get permission of the Mayor or Police to hol d a str ee t me eting. Then we would divide the town in quarters and adve rtise t h e meeti ng; then we’d talk, distribute tracts, try to get a mea l, an d i f possibl e a place to stay that night. I was the only one tha t got s upp er, and no ne of us got a place to stay all night. We mad e a passiona t e plea for so meone at the meeting to invite us to stay wi th them. No o n e took us in. They slunk away like we were undesirables , as we wer e t o them. We ha d canvassed long and hard, and we did not d esire to sle e p out, for it wa s a little chilly and very uncomfortable.

It was about 9:30 P.M., the air was chilly, the night dark. It wa s a t l e ast a mile out of town where we might get off the road into a c lum p o f tr ees, or into a deserted barn, or somewhere. This was about o ur s eve nth n ight out. I had been successful in getting three meals pe r da y an d a pla ce to sleep each night, but some of the others had fail ed i n both. As w e passed a hotel, summer-resort kind, I asked if the El der s had s olicite d this hotel for a place to stay. They said “no”. I s aid , “Le t us mak e it 100% and shake the dust off our feet against thi s tow n, i f this plac e will not let us stay there free.” I started in ; the ot he r three did no t have faith enough in the matter to come int o the lobb y w ith me. I aske d the clerk about giving us a room for fou r for the ni ght. He said he wa s only the clerk, and that I would have t o get that ki n d of permission fr om the landlord. He showed me into th e next room. T h ere sat an old ma n with long, white beard, who was th e landlord. I ma d e a passionate ple a for a room for the four of us. Wi thout hesitatin g a t all, he turned t o the clerk and said, “Give thes e Elders a room, a nd i n the morning see t hat they have a good breakfas t. I was out in Uta h an d visited around an d found that the Mormons wer e good people. The y trea ted me right, an d I want to treat them good.”

We would usually figure out the town we would be in at the end of th e w e e k to spend the weekend in. We would keep what clothes we would ne e d f o r the five days, and tracts, etc., and ship the rest by expres s t o ours el ves at the designated town. We figured it out that we coul d pur chas e a r egular ticket and check our luggage cheaper than to expr ess it . Th en w e often could sell the ticket to someone who was going t o sai d tow n on th e train, thereby getting our luggage transported free .

Milwaukee in 1915 was mostly German-speaking people. One could do bus i n e ss or missionary work more completely in German than they could i n En gl is h. When the United States entered the War, or the War was gett ing t o o ho t in Germany to do missionary work, the Elders were called h ome. S o me di d not desire to go home so they stopped in the several mis sion s o f the Un ited States. Several German-speaking Elders were assign ed t o Mi lwaukee. They labored mostly among the people that could not sp eak E ngl ish. Th ey converted several.

As was customary, the Conference President was supposed to intervie w e a c h prospect, if at all feasible. As the President I interviewed on e Si s te r, but had to do it through an interpreter. She was baptized i n La k e Mic higan by the Elder that had the most to do with her conversi on . A t tha t time we would confirm them immediately on the water’s brin k . I d id th e confirming, and of course, spoke in English. On the way h om e thi s Sist er asked the German-speaking Elder what was the matter wi t h Presid ent Rog ers, “since he interviewed me through an interpreter , bu t when h e confirm ed me he spoke in perfect German.” Just an exampl e o f the Gif t of Tongue s.

One of the most disappointing things that happened was the death o f a n E l der who was laboring in Racine, Wisconsin. He died of acute app endi cit is. Seemingly the Elder’s companion was new on the job and did n ot ca l l m e or the office real soon. I rushed down there only to find t ha t h e ha d passed away a short time before I arrived. I immediately go t i n t ouc h with President Ellsworth, and he took most of the notifyin g o f rela tive s on himself. We wanted the body to have the Garments on , bu t did n ot wa nt the undertaker to put them on. My companions were v ery s hy o f a corps e. I had had some experience at home and knew how t o dres s one. It wa s the custom then to ship bodies on the train. We wou ld purc has e two tic kets, one for the dead person and one for the bod y guard, a s i t were. I thought I was going to get to go to the Elder’ s home, but P re siden t Ellsworth took that task or pleasure away from m e. I would ha v e been h onored to have done it.

My outstanding missionary meal came one March day about 3:00 P. M . I h a d traveled until nearly noon and had to walk about five miles o u t in t h e country, snow on the ground, in spots. Dirt road and slippe r y in pla ce s. When I arrived at the Hodges, Sister Hodge knew I was hu ng ry, so s h e Preceded to give me some bread and milk. The bread was li gh t bread, j ust out of the oven. The milk was in the form of an old-fas hio ned pa n th at farmers used to set their milk in to let the cream ris e. M y hung er co upled with this warm bread and cold milk that was heav y wit h cream, cause d me to eat very heartily, and it seemed to please t he ol d folk s as the y said that I was so easy to satisfy. It was good t o th e last d rop, an d it was good to tell about.

[That is the end of the personal-written biography.... From this p o i n t on, the events listed and incidents related are as …the childre n ha v e r emembered them or as they have been told to us.]

Charles, a life-long Democrat, ran for the position of County Attor n e y i n Graham County in the elections of 1926. His opponent was Jess e Ud a ll, the Republican incumbent. Charles won the election in the Nove mb e r gen eral election. He defeated Mr. Udall again in the general elec ti o n of 19 28, again for County Attorney. Twice he ran against the incu mbe n t Superi or Court Judge, in 1934 and 1942, but lost both times.

After he was elected County Attorney, it was necessary to move to Saff o r d, the county seat of Graham County. It was May, 1927 that the mov e w a s m ade. They (Charles and Gladys) selected a big, yellow frame hou s e o n tw o acres just outside the West city limits and near the railro a d trac ks. It was close to the court house so Charles could walk to wor k . H e wa s elected to this position of County Attorney for six two-yea r t erm s (1 2 years total), but they were not consecutive years. In th e off- yea rs, h e opened his own law office and had his own practice. H e also p urc hase d and operated the Graham County Credit Bureau, as wel l as pract icin g la w the last years he lived in Safford.

Through the years he still liked to go deer hunting, usually up in t h e G r aham Mountains, and usually he would bring home a deer. More tha n l ike l y it was only a one-day hunting trip, leaving early in the morn in g an d re turning after dark. He enjoyed the picnics and outings tha t bec am e tradi tion with his own family and the relatives.

There were the Saturday night Rook parties with the 12 or so couples g a t h ering at someone’s house to spend the evening playing cards, then h av i n g a pot-luck refreshment. The men against the ladies, or couples a gai n s t couples, would lend variety to their evenings. On special occas io n s (T hanksgiving, or Christmas, or a birthday, or just to have somet hi n g to do) the Rook cards were easily available, and it wasn’t hard t o in t erest so meone in playing.

Not to be forgotten were the years they had the “Rogers Grade A Raw M i l k ” dairy. (Note: Walter says “Grade D” which may have been true i n t h e ea rliest months; but also see the reproduction of a “Grade A” st am p us ed i n later months.) Milking 12 cows night and morning without a n y mech anica l assistance, worrying about having enough feed for them , ke eping t he she ds and corrals and milk house in proper sanitary clea nline ss in or der t o pass the state inspection; all these and more caus ed con siderabl e worry, but it did help the financial situation for a fe w roug h years o f the de pression.

All five children went to the elementary schools in Safford, graduat e d f r om the high school there, and the local junior college (Gila Juni o r Col le ge) at Thatcher. His son went on a mission in 1934 to the East er n Sta te s Mission, then to the University of Arizona and graduated i n la w. Al l t he children were married while the family lived in Safford .

For some reasons that he thought wise at the time, Charles joined th e I O O F (Independent Order of Odd Fellows, a secret fraternal organizat ion) . I n September, 1944 they moved to the IOOF Home in Safford to be c are t aker s of grounds and buildings as well as the individuals who cam e t o li ve th ere. “They” included Charles, Gladys, Garna, Chloe, Dell a an d Sue. In t he Fall of 1945 they left the Home and purchased the All red h ouse. Charl es was asked to be the Stake Clerk for the Mr. Graham S take , o n conditio n that he would resign his membership in the IOOF. H e acce pte d this cal l from his Church and was sustained at a Stake conf erenc e on 1 6 May 1948; he was set apart by Marion G. Romney. Charles se rved a s Cle rk until mo ving to Phoenix in December of 1948.

He had been appointed a deputy in the State Attorney General’s offic e , a n d he worked there for four years. They lived in Phoenix only tw o ye ar s, then they moved to Mesa in 1951, and Charles commuted to wor k the n e x t two years. When his boss wasn’t re-elected, Charles worke d a shor t w hi le with Elijah Allen in Allen’s office for the practice o f law. Wh e n All en died he used the same office as Ether Ferrin (a life -long frie n d fro m Pima) used for his realty office. Their first home i n Mesa w a s a “cour t” on Udall Street which had several apartments arou nd it . I t was a stru ggle to keep them clean and rented, so in 1953 the y boug ht a nd moved to t heir little home on Hobson Street.

Here he lived the rest of his life. He and Gladys served their three-Ye a r mission to the Pima Indians at San Tan; they also served their sho r t s i x-month mission in the Cumorah Mission; and then in 1967 they wer e s e t ap art as ordained temple workers. In 1964 they added a large roo m, a s mal l bath, and an office for Charles on the back of their home wh ic h ma de i t more comfortable, especially when some of the friends came , o r th e chil dren and grandchildren arrived for a visit. By this tim e he h ad c losed h is downtown law office, but he still had people com e to him a t h is home f or help with a divorce or some of the lighter an d easier la w w ork. Alway s, each year there were many income tax report s prepared f o r other people.

Whenever the Spanish-Americans came for their temple excursions, the y w e r e housed at the Tri-Stake Center in Mesa. Volunteer Priesthood me n wo u l d go early and stay late each day for a week to help prepare th e foo d n ec essary to feed these humble people. Charles usually voluntee red an d r epo rted about five each morning and stayed through the day un til eve ryth in g was cleaned and cleared up after the evening meal. Ofte n it wou l d b e a 14-hour day for the workers, and this happened two o r three tim e s eac h year.

He was injured in an automobile accident on the Mesa streets in May, 1 9 6 2, which resulted in more-or-less permanent injury to a hip; at lea s t h e f elt he never regained fully to his pre-accident condition.. . H e b ecam e anemic, for his blood wasn’t building the way it should, a nd t he d octo r had him lose weight. He did lose the required weight, bu t h e als o los t that Swedish huskiness that had been so characteristi c fo r him... St ill later, he was involved in another auto accident, bei ng de cl ared to b e the one at fault. As a result, he was sued for ove r $150,0 0 0 for damag es and permanent injuries. This suit was settled o ut of cou r t for $40,00 0. This necessitated depleting all of his saving s accoun t s and borrowin g sums of money from some of his children (whic h were re pa id before his d eath), but he was able to save his Mesa hom e and his t e n acres in Pima...

He was a great one for helping others when he could. Relatives fro m b o t h sides of the family sought his advice and help all through th e yea r s. There were many widows and old and elderly people living in hi s Me s a w ard, and he assisted them by whatever means he could: free leg al as s ista nce, driving them in his car to the doctor’s office, for gro ceries , etc.

On one such occasion he was helping two ladies gather pecans. He cli m b e d the tree to shake down the nuts, and the ladies would pick the m u p a n d put them in boxes. For some reason, he fell from the tree, sc rapi n g th e back of his head against the tree trunk as he slid down an d land e d on h is neck at the base of the tree. Whether he reached too f ar an d l ost hi s balance, had a dizzy spell, his foot slipped, or a lim b brok e a s the po lice reported, we don’t know. He was rushed to the Me sa Luth era n Hospita l, and they kept him alive for ten days.

Without ever regaining consciousness, he died 15th January 1970. Hi s f u n eral was in Mesa on the 17th, and he was buried in Pima that afte rno o n. Just as the sun was setting down beyond the Graham Mountains a l ad i e s chorus sang “Now The Day Is Over”, and in a grave close to his b oyh o o d homestead farm and reservoir, Charles was laid to rest.

Charles married Gladys Haws on 1 Oct 1915 in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah, United States. Gladys was born on 8 Nov 1897 in Colonia Juárez, Casas Grandes, Chihuahua, México; died on 24 Mar 1973 in Mesa, Maricopa, Arizona, United States; was buried on 27 Mar 1973 in Pima Cemetery, Graham, Arizona, United States. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Other Events and Attributes:

• FamilySearch ID: KWJK-3SZ
• Initiatory (LDS): 1 Oct 1915, SLAKE

Notes:

Obituary:
Gladys Haws Rogers was born 8 November 1897 at Colonia Juarez, Chihuahu a , Mexico; she was the third daughter and fifth child of Susan Ann Cluf f a nd George Martin Haws. Her parents were living in Mexico at the tim e bec ause of polygamy persecutions in the States. Her father had thre e wives , and her mother (Susan Ann) was the second wife; the first wif e was Jose phine, an older sister to Susan Ann, and the third wife was Et ta Wall .

When Gladys was three years old her father was called to be Bishop of t h e Chuichupa (or “Chupie”) ward up in the mountains. It took three day s t o make the trip from Juarez by wagon, and she remembers camping and s ingi ng songs such as “In Our Lovely Deseret” as they traveled over the b ump y roads.

This from a Roseberry Messenger (family newsletter), but I thought may b e applicable: Chuichupa – 80 miles from Colonia Juarez. They walked b eh ind their loaded wagons and were on a constant lookout for Indians. A fte r several days they arrived at Chuichupa and found it to be a very pl easa nt place with lots of tall trees, wild flowers, and lots of grass . Thei r livestock did very well here. Some of their supplies had to b e haule d from Colonia Juarez. The Indians often would build fires on th e mounta in tops nearby, causing great concern to the family. However, t hey neve r were molested.

They lived in a little log room where they slept, ate, and kept war m b y a big fireplace. Wood was plentiful as they lived in a little vall ey s urrounded by a pine forest.

From her own writings: Many things happened I remember in Chuichupa su c h as the mad dog, Father taking the ward on an Easter picnic, taking Fa th er’s dinner to him at the shingle mill and Mama had a baked potato tha t h ad been mashed, put back and browned, a ward outing at North Creek wh en P res. Ivins and other officers were visiting, the time we went to se e wher e the cyclone had twisted big trees off at different lengths…

They lived in the mountains about five years, and those were hard year s s o far away from the more populated areas of Juarez. A saw mill was i n th e area and a shingle factory where people worked to earn some money . Sh e remembers the kids carrying the shingles to her father who woul d packag e them into bundles… She didn’t have much schooling while livin g in Chup ie, but she does remember going to school in the one big room w hich als o served as the church house… She remembers when she and her br other Gle nn had the scarlet fever, that the cousins and other kids in th e town wal ked by the window to say “hello” to them. Aunt Josephine (he r father’s f irst wife, as well as an older sister to Susan Ann) was th e community doc tor; at least she seemed to be the one who was called whe n illness was ar ound.

One summer there was a water shortage, and the men put a large water b o x on a wagon and carried water from North Creek… She remembers her mot he r planted her garden as usual that summer, but in order to irrigate i t sh e would have to irrigate at night. The water would be turned down o ne ro w, then her mother would go to the end of that row, spread her blan ket o n the ground and lie down to rest; when she felt the water touch he r han d that was placed in the row, she would get up and change the wate r to th e next row – and so on through the night… Gladys remembers a war d picni c at North Creek where many of the children were going wading an d playin g in the water. She didn’t have a swim suit or any extra clothi ng to sub stitute for a swim suit, so some of the ladies took off their a prons an d pinned them around and on her so she could have something in w hich to s wim!

The “mad dog” scare was very vivid in her memory. One summer it was rep o rted that a mad dog was in the woods near their little town, so everyo n e chained their dogs so they wouldn’t wander off. One evening the fear e d cry came: “Mad dog! Mad dog!” And they knew that the mad dog had fin al ly ventured into the town and was coming down the street! Dave, a hal f-b rother, was in the corral and ran to the outhouse for protection. Th e ch ildren were alone in the house, and her brother Albert, although sic k a t the time, got up and shut the kitchen door first because that’s whe re t he younger children were playing; then he hurried and shut the fron t doo r just as the mad dog came upon the front porch. They heard him fi ghtin g with their own dog before he moved on down the street. The nex t nigh t a man killed the mad dog; but she said everyone surely was frigh tened b y the mad dog. Chloe reports this version: It had a fight with t heir do g under the corral fence. Uncle Dave and Uncle Ernest were on th e fenc e above. The mad dog was killed, and they took their swing down t o tie u p their own dog to see what his outcome would be.

When they lived in the mountains Grandma wrapped their feet in burla p s o they could play in the snow. They would gather the snow and pack i t un der the pine trees and cover it so they could make ice cream. Som e sno w would be put in a glass or a cup, then sugar sprinkled over it, a nd som e flavoring added. After stirring it all together, they would ea t thei r ice cream; if they wanted more, they would go through the same p rocess . Each person made his own and fixed it as he wanted it. The win ter sea son was the only time they had ice cream! Sometimes they would a dd flavo ring and sugar to milk, put it in a metal container and set it o utside fo r a length of time until it had frozen to their desired consist ency, the n they’d eat it.

Colonia Juarez is situated in a narrow valley about ¾ mile wide, bound e d by bluffs which vary in height from 100 to 200 feet; the townsite i s la id out in regular blocks, the streets crossing each other at right a ngles ; but instead of following the cardinal points of the compass, th e longe r streets run parallel with the valley and the river from northwe st to so utheast.

A stranger sighting the town for the first time from the brow of the hi l l is surprised. The green trees … and most homes … are a startling con tr ast from the surrounding desert and rocky hillsides, the dusty roads , mes quite, sand, and chaparral. To those who once lived there but left , it i s an unforgettable spot, remembered as a symbol of peacefulness, o f neigh borliness, and of unity…

All three families moved back to Juarez in 1905 as the older children co u ld attend high school there. Gladys was baptized in the river by the s wi nging bridge on November 4th, 1905 by John C. Harper, and confirmed th e n ext day by Joseph C. Bentley. After living in Juarez a while, they m ove d to Guadalupe where they lived for two years.

While living there, her half-brother Dave, who had had his feet froze n i n the snow during the winter in Juarez, came to their home to recuper ate . He was such a tease, and one day he teased the family goat and go t i t to chasing Gladys. Several times she ran around the house trying t o ge t rid of that goat, but it was always behind her. Finally she ran i n th e house and jumped up on the kitchen table, but that ole goat came i n th e house, too, and put his front feet on the table edge trying very h ard t o get on the table with Gladys. She was happy when her mother fina lly ch ased the goat outside.

In Juarez her father owned the whole block for his three families, wit h t he houses in a row on the street – one on the corner, one in the midd le , and the third house on the other corner – with the backyards of th e hou ses used for gardens, barns, corrals, etc.

Remembering Juarez: The children would play on the river bank with sard i ne cans as wagons, and spools or bottles as horses… When she went to h av e her feet measured for shoes, they laughed at her for having such lar g e feet. . . They would gather the ice that formed on the willow tree s a s it froze from water from the power plant that fell on the trees; th en p acked it in sawdust to use for ice cream later…

She went through life with a crooked nose, the result of an accident wh e n she was quite small. She got her head caught between the wagon whee l a nd the wagon box and broke her nose, among other injuries, and she re memb ers Aunt Josephine and her father putting wet cloths on her head.

Grandma Haws dried wagon loads of apples in Mexico on shares. Grandma w o uld run the peeler, and the kids would core and slice… There were ver y f ew glass bottling jars, so fruit was canned in 5 gallon cans (lik e a hone y can). A man there fixed the can lids so they could be seale d with resi n. After the bottles would come empty, Grandma would ope n a can of fruit , reheat the fruit, then re-seal it in the bottles.

During fruit and vegetable harvest, she worked at the cannery. They wou l d urge the cannery supervisor to can tomatoes on Saturday so their han d s would be nice and white for the dance that night, instead of being st ai ned if other vegetables were worked on that day. She has mentioned ma n y times that she would rather dance than eat!

At the dances when the “round dances” were becoming so popular (instea d o f the square-dance type), it was a rule set by the Church authoritie s tha t “you had to see daylight between the boy and girl”. In other wor ds, th e boy couldn’t hold the girl too close to him – and they had one o f the b rethren on duty to enforce the rule!

Only one time does Gladys remember her father talking crossly to her. S h e relates she wanted to go somewhere with her girl friends, and her mot he r said to ask her father, so she went to look for him. She saw him co min g from Aunt Josephine’s house, and then into Aunt Etta’s house, and t he n into her mother’s house, and then go to the woodpile and chop wood v igo rously. She went to ask him if she could go with the girls, and he s aid , “I don’t care what you do!”

The girls always had a new white dress for May Day… In “hard times” a d e licacy was parched corn and molasses candy for party refreshments…

One day at school one of the boys in her class had brought some eggs t o s chool with him, for he planned to take them to the store after schoo l an d buy some candy. During the day, though, one egg rolled from his d esk a nd broke as it hit the floor. The boy just scooped it up (the ra w egg) w ith his hands and ate it right there with all the children aroun d!

From Chloe: The year they got just a handkerchief for Christmas, Aunt J o sephine’s girls each received a set of china dishes. Grandma was so hu r t and disappointed, that she promised her girls that if the time ever c am e that she was able, she would get her girls some china dishes. Mam a wa s 14 years old when she was given hers. Mama gave these dishes to m e yea rs later, after we girls had used them for “tea parties.” A coupl e of th e cups are gone, and there are broken handles and chips. I cheri sh them . We girls used to play with them, but I wouldn’t even let my bo ys hardl y touch them.

When Mama was a little girl living in Mexico, Grandma combed her hai r i n four braids. You know, two on each side on the top braided into th e tw o pigtails on the bottom. Two of her brothers (it seems that she me ntion ed Walter and Dave) were playing barber shop one day and cut Mama’ s hai r – cutting all four braids off. Mama proudly carried her treasur e in he r apron to the house to show a horrified mother!

While they were in Mexico (I don’t know which place) one of their calv e s bloated and died. Some Mexicans came by and wanted the calf, so it w a s given to them. The next day the Mexicans were back selling hot tamale s.

From her own life story, Gladys tells these things: “Times were hard, a n d I remember my Mother just browning flour in the skillet then adding w at er to make gravy because they didn’t have or couldn’t spare any greas e o r drippings to start the gravy.

“I was baptized in the Juarez River down by the swinging bridge below Ha r pers. Brother Harper baptized eight of us. Bishop Bentley confirmed u s.

“We had to make our own amusement, and many times we would go up the riv e r for a picnic with bread and onion tops, and how wonderful it was.

“When I was in the second grade, my brother George was the principal o f t he elementary school in Juarez. For some reason that I don’t remembe r no w, some of us girls were sent to the principal’s office. I do remem ber h ow embarrassed I was to leave the room with the other children snic kerin g at us, and climb the stairs to his office in the tower of the re d bric k building.

“One year for Christmas all we had in the way of gifts was a handkerchi e f and a box of oranges which someone had brought to us after a trip t o th e States. What a treat it was!

“I remember the first automobile that chugged into Juarez. Everyone rus h ed into the street to see what the noise was.

“Once when Grandma Cluff was ill, Mother took Cula, Georgia and Wallac e a nd went to Pima to help care for her. Later Father went to Douglas t o he lp make a road with his big team of mules.

“He took Annie, Ernest, Glenn and myself with him. He left Colonia Juar e z late Thursday evening, because of a Friday superstition, so as not t o s tart a journey on Friday that he could not finish on Friday. One eve nin g just as it was getting dark, driving along some low hills with bi g rock s on them, we saw crows everywhere. I thought all the crows in th e worl d must have been covering those rocks. Father was so good and kin d to us , and we would sing as we traveled along. I also made a spool ro pe for W allace while traveling along.

“One evening when it was time to make camp, the wind was blowing a lo t o f sand. Father drove the wagon along the top of a dry wash. We pu t th e canvas from the wagon box to the ground. When we made a fire to g et su pper. The thing I remember most was the scrambled eggs peppered wi th dus t or sand; but it was good.

“Before getting to Morales or Oaxaca we went down a long dugway. We chi l dren walked or hurried down. I was real warm. On reaching the bott o m I drank a lot of cool water from the creek which made me dizzy and si ck . Here my Father was so gentle to me. That night Annie says we campe d a t Haynie’s.

“When we got to Douglas we camped in someone’s back yard until arrangeme n ts could be made for leaving Ernest there with the mules. Father rent e d a light wagon to make the trip to Pima to take us children.

“The water was so different, and it was hot. I thought I would choke , s o Father got some water from the lady of the house for me. Either i t wa s cold or different from the well water. He took us to a show one e venin g and bought us popcorn to eat after the show.

“One morning early we started for Pima, with the light wagon and light l o ad. We sailed along. As I remember we camped one night. I cannot rem em ber any cross words from Father, just grand to us all. I will alway s che rish the occasion of our company with him. As we passed through Pe arce t he wind had just blown down a large frame house. We went in a bi g tent h ouse in Willcox and had a meal. It seems as if it was a railroa d camp.

“In the evening out from Willcox the little prairie dogs were out barki n g at us. With his long black whip Father reached out and pulled one d o g from its hole, so he caught it for us. I don’t remember what we di d wi th it. When we got to Artesia, a stream of water looked so good. O h, bu t the taste and warmth were bad and hot. Annie says a man wouldn’ t let F ather water the mules; he was afraid Father was a squatter.

“We were getting real excited as we reached Safford, Thatcher, and Centr a l. From then on we could hardly stay with the wagon. How happy we we r e to see Mother and our little brother and sisters again.

“After the road job at Douglas was finished Father came back to Pima, a n d went to Mt. Graham where Father logged with the mules; and we had a g lo rious summer. There was no road, so we rode the mules up the mountai n . One Sunday Father put us all on the mules and we went to High Peak . L illian Cluff rode with me; Aunt Sarah Cluff was cooking for the mil l hand s.

“We were riding mules one time during a storm. We were going under a wi r e when the lightning struck and shocked the mules and threw us off.

“Father sold the mules and we all went home to Juarez on the train. Ev e n stayed in a hotel in El Paso. Again I had a close companionship wi t h a wonderful Father.” [end of excerpt]

It wasn’t long until the Mexican soldiers and the Mexican renegades star t ed fighting. Sometimes they would steal the cattle, or fruit, or whate ve r was handy that they needed and could carry away. The people in Juar e z and surrounding areas were becoming quite frightened. One day the so ld iers came marching through the town while the children were in school , an d they rushed to the windows to watch them.

Finally it was decided that the Mormon people should leave Mexico – on l y temporarily, they thought. It was in the summer of 1912, and Glady s wa s only 14 years old. Her Mother, again, was visiting in Pima and wa s no t at home. Annie, the older sister, packed the trunk, for they coul dn’ t take anything but clothes with them, then she put the dishes in a t ub a nd put the tub under the floor boards of the house.

Gladys’ mother writes this about the Exodus: “They had to leave with ju s t their suitcases. My children took some of my dishes and put the m i n a tub under the floor, so when Anna went back into Mexico she broug ht t hem out, and George (Gladys’ father) went back in and shipped my tru nk an d mattress out, and this was all we had left to start another hom e with.”

They went to Pearson and got on the train, and they traveled all nigh t . There were no lights on the train, and the babies were crying, and t h e mothers couldn’t find the things they needed in the dark. The trai n mo ved so slowly that the bigger boys would run along side the train, j ust t o have something to do.

The next morning they arrived in El Paso where the customs officials dum p ed the trunk contents on a big canvas, rummaged through the pile, the n st uffed the things back in the trunk. Since they had a little money , the y were able to stay in a hotel for two or three days until it was d ecide d where they could go. For those people who didn’t have money or d idn’ t know where to go to start a new life, a lumber yard was their temp orar y living quarters. People would come and peek through the fence cra cks t o see the Mormons and their horns. Just the women and children cam e at t his time; the men remained in Juarez a bit longer, but came out o f Mexic o within a few weeks.

Gladys and her brothers and sisters went to Pima on the train. They liv e d with their Grandma Cluff for a while, and at Weech’s chicken far m i n a converted chicken house. Her own mother had to go out and ear n a liv ing; and since Gladys was the oldest one at home now (Annie and A lbert bo th had married), she was left in charge of the four younger chil dren. He r mother worked as a cook at hotels and mines in Safford and Kl ondyke, an d Gladys and the children did the best they could. One time t hey even ha d to move from one house to another by themselves. And for T hanksgivin g one year, the only thing they had to eat in the way of a fes tive holida y food was one-half of a pumpkin pie that an aunt sent to the m!

She washed dishes for a lady once a day. The lady never washed a dish , b ut would leave them stacked all day long, and Gladys would go in an d clea n them all up for 10 cents.

Grandma Haws writes this: “Anna and I worked at the Olive Hotel, an d a t first the other children lived with Albert and Alice and some wit h Oliv e. The next winter we lived in Thatcher, then Gladys and I worke d in th e hotel. Then the children lived in the Follett home while I wen t to Glo be to nurse Edith Eyring. I was there longer than I expected t o be. Whi le I was gone the children had to move. Gladys was the oldes t at home s o she had the responsibility of the other children; so the ch ildren had i t hard, as well as I did.

“My mother gave me a lot in Pima. My brothers moved a little two-room h o use down from the hotel in Safford. This was our first home in Pima . I t was made of rough boards (1 x 12), had no batting, and had crack s an in ch wide all around, but it was the start of a home, and I was tha nkful fo r it. Later Albert let his father have money, and he put on a l ittle kit chen and pantry, and that helped out. I took in washings, cook ed on th e thrasher, and did anything I could to earn a little money s o I would no t have to leave the children to go off to work.

“Charles and Annie moved from Mexico and rented a hotel in Solomonvill e . We all moved up there to help. Gladys and I worked for them, cooki n g and waiting on tables, and making beds. The other children washed di sh es all the summer of 1914. Then Annie and Charles lived at the home i n P ima and cared for the children while I went out to the mines to wor k as c ook in the eating house. Here I got good wages, and with George d oing th e work I had two more rooms built on. Rather than leave the chil dren an y more I took in washings. I washed every day of the week one wi nter whi le some of them went to high school in Thatcher.”

Gladys managed to go to school long enough to graduate from the 8th gra d e on May 1st, 1914. Evidently, she was a member of the basketball team .

From her own writings: “Up to this time my schooling was most nothin g . I did get through the sixth grade before the exodus in July, 1912 . Th en in Pima went to the seventh and eighth grades, graduating in 191 4 . I was the historian of the class. In the eighth grade I was the sec re tary of the Religion Class… I was put in as teacher of the little clas s i n Sunday School when I was 16.

“I met Charles R. Rogers… He went on a mission, and on his return I m e t him in Salt Lake where we were married on October 1, 1915. I went t o S alt Lake with Maude and Walter.

“When we got home we lived out on the Cottonwood Wash, then moved to a l i ttle house of two doby (adobe) rooms we built. All the girls were bor n t here. Walter was born at Mother’s home in Pima on Sept. 16, 1916 an d wa s blessed on our first wedding day. He was 16 days old. Clara, th e seco nd child was born February 1, 1920. It was Sunday, the day Reec e Green w as put in Bishop. Della was born May 18, 1922. Garna, Januar y 6, 1925 . Chloe, May 26, 1926.”

Gladys met a fine young man at a dance at the town dance hall over the t o wn store. He wanted to take her home after the dance, but he already h a d a girl with him. He solved the problem by taking the girl home earl y , then returning to the dance and escorting Gladys home! It so happen e d that Gladys’ mother was at the dance, also, and all three of them wal ke d home together – and Gladys never introduced the young man to her!

After a while this fine young man asked her to marry him, but before a n y plans could be made, he was called on a two-year mission. He asked h e r to wait for him, and she did. She met him in Salt Lake City as he re tu rned from his mission, and on October 1st, 1915, Gladys was married t o Ch arles Rogers in the Salt Lake temple.

They returned to Pima, and for a year or so they lived on the Rogers hom e stead west of Pima; then they moved to their own two-room adobe home cl os er to town. In this humble home four daughters were born; their firs t ch ild and only son was born at her mother’s home before the adobe hom e wa s built. They lived here for several years while Charles farmed a l ittle , was janitor at the school and church, became a school teacher, an d late r passed the state exam to become a lawyer.

Charles was elected as county attorney for Graham County, and the fami l y moved to Safford in the summer of 1927. He served as county attorne y f or a total of 12 years, and for the times and years that he wasn’t el ecte d, he opened his own law offices and had a thriving law practice.

During the depths of the 1933 depression Charles and Gladys started a da i ry to supplement their income. This was a “trying” time for them, an d th ey were glad when economic conditions were better and they could sel l th e dairy.

It was in Safford that her children went to school and graduated from hi g h school, went on to Gila for two years of college, and for three child re n, on to Tucson for further work at the University of Arizona, and Del l a to Tempe, years after her marriage, to graduate from ASU. Her son we n t on a mission, and each of the children married while they lived in Sa ff ord.

All through her life Gladys was active in Church positions. She was sec r etary of the Religion Class for two years at the Pima school; also w a s a Sunday School kindergarten leader for 6 years, and was released i n 19 20… In the Pima Ward she was a teacher in the Primary for ten years , an d a Relief Society visiting teacher from 1916 to 1927.

After moving to Safford she was on the Stake Primary Board for 11 year s , going to SLC one summer for the Primary conference; served two year s a s a Bee Hive teacher in the MIA; but most of her time was in the Reli ef S ociety. In the Layton Ward she served in the presidency, then whe n the w ard was divided, she served three years as president of the Saffo rd War d Relief Society.

In Phoenix she was a visiting teacher in the Capitol Ward, as well as M I A Special Interest class leader for one year. In Mesa 5th Ward she wa s w ork director, and later a counselor, then president of the Relief Soc iet y where she served from the first Sunday in 1956 to the first Sunda y in 1 957. In Mesa 11th Ward she was a Primary teacher for a year.

For at least one year, 1946-1947, (there may have been others), she w a s a member of the Safford Women’s Club; and for the October, 1946 meeti n g she served as a “tea Hostess”… She also tried the Rebeccas (the comp an ion group to the IOOF), but these groups “didn’t suit her fancy” and s h e soon dropped out.

Her civic positions centered around the PTA. She served as Safford pres i dent two years, and as Graham County president two years. She was East er n regional vice-president four years under Florence Ryan, the state pr esi dent. Gila, Graham, and Greenlee counties were her district; and i n Ma y of 1946 was a delegate to the national convention in Denver. Fo r two y ears (1948-1950) she was chairman of the state PTA’s standing com mittee o n Founders Day; Mrs. P. M. Breeding was state president. Sinc e she move d to Phoenix in December, 1948, these dates indicate that sh e was activ e in the state PTA even after moving there. (A letter date d 2 May 1949 s ays “…Lollie spent three days and nights P.T.Aing.)

She loved to cook, and as PTA president started the first hot lunch prog r am for the Safford schools… She also cooked and served banquets and di nn ers for various groups and organizations in town… Her cooking abiliti e s took her to the mountains for eight summers where she cooked at the B o y Scout camps at Mt. Graham (near Safford), as well as Hannegan’s Mead o w near Clifton. She was made an honorary Life Scout of the 3-G Counci l ( with headquarters in Safford) by Mr. Robert Perrin. Even after movin g t o Phoenix and Mesa she was asked to return and cook for the Scouts . Th e Scout executives for whom she worked were Al Quist, Bob Perrin, a nd Har old Paulsen.

As Relief Society president in Safford she worked hard to help finish t h e Safford Ward building. They had the usual kinds of fund-raising even ts : bazaars, food sales, etc., and the ladies cooked and served dinner s a nd luncheons, among them the Rotary noon luncheon twice each month … Wit h some of the money they purchased a large painting of Christ to h ang i n the front of the chapel (on the wall back of the choir seats), an d a s a special gesture, a small reproduction of the picture was given t o he r to keep. Clara now has the small picture… Another thing was th e plant ing of some trees and shrubs to help beautify the front of the bu ilding.

The Relief Society room was finished and furnished, and the dishes and s i lver for the kitchen were purchased during the time Gladys was presiden t.

All events and activities for the July 24th celebration in the summe r o f ____ were sponsored by the Safford Ward in an all-out effort to ge t fun ds to finish their building. Everyone helped, and Bishop Owens ass igne d the Relief Society to be responsible for a “program” after the mor nin g parade. As the Relief Society president, Gladys directed their eff ort s toward an outdoor pageant on the high school football field, wherei n th e story of the founding of the Church, coming across the plains an d settl ing in Utah was told briefly through songs and dances and narrati on.

A bit ago when I was visiting with Chloe I wondered out loud about wha t t he folks may have done, or how they may have helped with the World Wa r I I effort in the Safford area. Later she sent the following: “I chec ke d my 4-H book, and in it was mentioned that in 1942 the government sen t i n a whole train load of people to pick cotton, and that I had helpe d Mam a as Relief Society president and the Relief Society sew 50 mattres s tick ings. I guess they were stuffed with cotton from the fields, or m aybe st raw; they were full size. We made 100 cotton-picking sacks… An d I kno w they sewed layettes and blue chambray dresses. She acted as ch airman o f the blood bank drives in serving orange juice and coffee to th ose who g ave blood… Also was chairman of food in a crisis or disaster.”

On 25 March 1942 Gladys was presented with a small certificate to signi f y that “… Mrs. Gladys Rogers has completed the standard course in Red C ro ss Home Nursing given under the auspices of the Mt. Graham County Chap ter …” of the National Red Cross.

In going through her papers the following little note was found: “Bro . O wens, did you put the cap on Mr. Crandall?” As the Relief Society pr esid ent, I guess she was concerned with such important items as this a t the t ime of death and burial. Bro. (Steve) Owens was Bishop of the Sa fford Wa rd when she was the Relief Society president.

There were the Saturday night Rook parties with the 12 or so couples gat h ering at someone’s house to spend the evening playing cards, then havi n g a pot-luck refreshment. The men against the ladies, or couples again s t couples, would lend a bit of variety to their evenings. On special o cc asions such as Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or a birthday, or just to h av e something to do, the Rook cards were easily available, and it wasn’ t ha rd to interest someone in playing.

In 1948 Charles was appointed as a deputy in the State Attorney General ’ s office, and they moved to Phoenix. They lived there two years, the n mo ved to Mesa, and Charles commuted to work. When the boss wasn’t re- elect ed, Charles opened up a private law practice in Mesa. Their firs t home i n Mesa was at a “court” where there were several small apartment s for ren t; but after two years they sold the court and moved to their h ome at 33 4 South Hobson. Here they lived the rest of their days.

She loved her work at the Fairs. She served as superintendent of the ho m e economics department at the Graham County Fair in 1948, the first cou nt y fair in 20 years… After moving to Phoenix, she worked for 16 year s a t the State Fair as an assistant in the home economics department, th en h elped at the Maricopa County Fair in Mesa for six years after movin g to t hat city, three years without pay, next three years a small amount . Thes e services she enjoyed, especially the association with the co-wo rkers . The night before the State Fair, the workers always had a dinner , an d Gladys made her enchilada casserole.

She had the misfortune to fall down the bank of a wash one day while o n a n outing with Charles and another couple. Her arm was broken near th e sh oulder, and she spent about a week in the hospital; then there wer e man y weeks of inability in using her arm. She says she didn’t ever re gain f ull use of her arm, especially in the ability to lift or raise i t very hi gh…. When she was about 65 years old both eyes developed growt hs in them , which necessitated operations to remove the growths, and whi ch necessit ated wearing the thick-lensed glasses so common after such op erations.

The “Cheerio Club” was a group of ladies that met once a month for lunch e on and visiting, and Gladys enjoyed this association very much…. Also , s he was a member of the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers, which group us uall y held their monthly meeting in her home. Her application for membe rshi p was approved 22 December 1954. She served in various positions, a nd a t one time was “Captain” of the Cardinal Camp…. In addition, a grou p o f about 20 ward people (some couples, and some singles) banded togeth er f or family home evenings. Each member took his turn in entertainin g the g roup in his home, giving the lesson and serving refreshments.

With her husband she served a three-year mission to the Pima Indians a t S an Tan, 25 miles south of Mesa, and helped these humble people unders tan d more about the gospel… Later, they were called on a mission to th e Cum orah Mission, where they labored about six months before coming hom e beca use of failing health for both of them… They celebrated their 50t h weddi ng anniversary while in Gowanda, New York… Being called and set- apart a s temple ordinance workers was a thrill for both of them, and the y thorou ghly enjoyed their time in the temple.

Charles was injured critically and died 15 January 1970. She was migh t y lonesome after he died, which is only natural. Her son Walter and fa mi ly, and her daughter Della and family, were mighty good to come and ta k e her places she needed to go, or to include her in their family activi ti es. When her widowed sister, Georgia, moved to Mesa, they were good c omp any for each other, and they went many places together… She felt sh e cou ldn’t see well enough to drive a car to go anywhere, so she was qui te con fined; but she did walk to the temple on occasion, to the Church m eetings , and to the store for food items, because these places were with in two b locks of her home.

She enjoyed her yearly visits with her two daughters living out of stat e , Garna in Missouri, and Chloe in Colorado. Each summer she would fl y t o visit them, staying a week at each home… She really enjoyed her fl igh t to Hawaii on an excursion trip with a group of LDS people. Her sis ter s Georgia and Cula (and Cula’s husband Ivan) were among the group, an d th ey were gone ten days.

Just before Christmas 1971, Gladys suffered two serious heart attacks . A fter the second one she wasn’t expected to live longer than a few ho urs , but she pulled through. For over three months, though, she was i n th e hospital, undergoing a pacemaker operation and other correctiona l treat ments. Later she spent about a year in a rest home. In March, 1 973, sh e fell and broke her hip. She was taken to a hospital for an ope ration t o have a pin put in the bone to hold it together while it healed . Howeve r, her wound would not heal because of her diabetic condition , and on Sat urday, 24 March 1973, just before noon, she quietly slippe d away.

Funeral services were on Tuesday morning, March 27th, in her 11th Ward c h apel in Mesa, with her family filling all program assignments. Buria l wa s that afternoon in the Pima Cemetery along-side her husband and amo ng he r loved ones.