The fog settled over the immigrant ship American Congress off the shores of Newfoundland. The sun did not shine, nor provide navigational reference for the crew. James Keep and his wife Ann, three daughters, and one grand-baby were sailing for Zion with 350 Saints. While on deck, James looked forward for a time, then aft, reflecting on the hopeful journey yet ahead, and then on his life back in England. He was five years old when his father died, was raised a few more years by family members, but mostly, with little schooling, made his own way keeping sheep, cows, horses, or any work he could find. The heavy fog bore down a second day on the ship. James thought back on his apprenticeship as a brick layer and his nine years with his first wife Elizabeth. Sometime after her death, James married Ann Miller, and he began to seek religion. He attended the Wesleyan’s, and later the Baptist’s, and then the Independent’s, each for a number of years, but still felt alone. “I could never tell what the Kingdom of God was,” he wrote. The thick fog prevailed a third day; their location and direction, unknown. James recalled the two young men who brought the restored gospel to his home. Encouraged by his wife, he listened. “I never knew what God was until I came into this church.” He and his family were baptized and accepted callings. He traveled extensively to preach the gospel for twenty years. Now at age 60, on a ship in the Atlantic, Johns faith in God’s promises held strong. “Captain,” a man yelled, “what is that?” The man on the quarter deck pointed anxiously forward. The fog [had] lifted from the surface of the sea, as if a veil or scroll had been raised. The tall powerful captain looked, then sprang to the wheelhouse like a tiger, knocked the helmsman down, grabbed the wheel, and with full presence of mind and moment, turned it about. Sailors sprang to their posts at his commands, as the ship swayed and turned avoiding rocks, breakers, and a watery grave. Many thanks were given to God for lifting the fog, and protecting the saints.
(by Kenneth R. Hardman, based on accounts in Hardman Biographies – Ancestors of Sidney Glenn Hardman and Dorothy Mae Griffin, personal writings of James Joseph Keep, writings of Sarah Keep Buttars, and account Saved by Providence by J. Nicholson) #AncestorClips
“Walter and Ben, were brought home shot in the legs,” the wagon jolt having discharged a gun. Ben lost his leg but Walter recovered. Their mother, Ruth Keep Griffin was acquainted with difficulty but met life with courage and a smile, likely influenced as a child by the faith of her family. “One night while grandmother Keep was in bed, her oldest daughter, Mary, came to her bedside and asked what she could get for supper as there was nothing in the house to eat. Grandmother answered, ‘Set the table, child, and the Lord will provide.” Just then there came a knock at the door. When Mary opened it, an old gentleman friend of Grandfather Keep’s came into the room. When he learned the condition of want they were in, he put his hand into his pocket and handed Aunt Mary money to get them all something to eat.” Ruth came from England to America at age 11. She worked, and developed skills. She met and married the faithful and hardworking John Griffin. Starting in a dirt floor log house they pieced together furniture as they build their family having eventually 13 children. She lost her hearing, but not her smile. She was the family gardener. “Flowers couldn’t help but grow for her with the care she gave them.” She sang, she danced, she joked, she knitted. They were a united family, in sorrow and joy. She was a radiant flower of Newton, Utah till she died at the age of 77.
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