As the smoke of the industrial revolution continuously settled on residents of Manchester England, in 1834, death persistently came to rest on the small home of Margaret and Richard Hardman. Likely with broken heart wondering if she would ever have children, she laid her fifth lifeless baby to rest in an early tiny grave. Margaret was a weaver, Richard was a rope-maker, but another 9 hopeful months passed with no daughters for mom to dress, and no sons to enter dad’s trade. With prayer, work, endurance, and love, another 10 years passed and 6 more pregnancies. Three would die, but three lived on; Alice Eliza, Lehi Nephi, and George Richard. Alice received the middle name of her grandmother, Elizabeth; George bore the middle name of his father, Richard; and Lehi Nephi carried the names given him by a prophet a year before he was born. Poor health restored under Priesthood hands by the Gospel of the Restoration, Margaret and Richard carried on, gathered with the Latter-day Saints, moved from their home with many of their family, ever onward, following the prophets from Manchester to Nauvoo. Living only blocks from the Nauvoo temple, they built Nauvoo, the Temple, and their posterity. After their eternal marriage and sealing in the Temple of God, Margaret lost Richard, missing on the Mississippi while working and escorting family members to Zion. Widowed, cast out through trails of sorrow, Illinois, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, and the loss of her second husband William Presley to cholera, she pressed onward, eventually to a place where her children including Jane Amanda Presley met their companions, raised righteous families, and gave Margaret posterity beyond all that she could have imagined. We too, can press onward, ever onward. #AncestorClips
Author Notes: My heart is broken for Margaret and Richard, broken along the extremes of the emotional spectrum, alternating between depths of anguish and heights of admiration. Margaret came from a large family where she helped raise many of her younger siblings. Imagine the heart break as each of five, 9-month pregnancies ended in death. Did they wonder if life was worth it? Did they get angry with God? Did she want to give up when other children died, or when she lost her health or her husband? When I pass through the veil of death some day, I expect to meet her and ask these questions. But when I do, it won’t be to confirm her pain for I’m certain it was bitter. No, my desire to meet her and talk to her will be because of the great honor I hold for her. She certainly would have had her days of trial, but her life in totality reveals faith, prayer, spiritual sensitivity, and determination, ever onward. She raised good children, had faith to be healed, listened to her heart, united with her husband, followed prophets, had vision to see past mortality to eternity with a large posterity, with the blessings she frequently desired. Thank you Margaret and Richard for never giving up. Thank you for believing; believing in yourselves, believing in God, and believing in me and the multitudes whose veins carry your blood and your blessings.
Nine-year-old Edna ran through the orchard with her straight brown hair flapping in the summer air. “Hey Myrtle!” She called back to her ten-year-old sister. “Watch this.” Edna jumped on to a pig, patted his side, and held on. “We’re supposed to be feeding them,” Myrtle pretended to object. “not riding them.” Myrtle looked back toward the house, then dropped her apple bag and with bouncing curls chased down another pig. Both girls laughed, squealed, and finally fell on the orchard grass, giggling, trying to keep their hair out of the rotting summer apples. ‘Emily Myrtle’ and ‘Edna’ Elton were the youngest of eight. The children were taught to be honest, to mind, and to respect and care for others. For chores they packed wood and coal, gathered grain, hauled hay, white-washed walls, pressed apples, thinned beets, and herded sheep. They found fun in many chores as they wove plant stems into chains, made up songs, played school, and ate lunch in the fields with dad. In the winter they rode sleigh, fashioned snowmen, and laid on their backs making snow fairies. Christmas gifts were few, but given with love, then cherished. On Sunday they had a bath in a number three metal tub and wore their treasured Summer dress to church. Forever young and beautiful on the outside, they were playful, loving, and devoted on the inside. Myrtle and Edna loved life, not wishing for things they didn’t have. Their simple dreams fed their imaginations and added spice to their lives and all who knew them.
My great-grandfather William was 11 when his father died, and the English officers came to take him and his four brothers to the poorhouse. “How we clung to mother’s dress,” he said. Isabella was, a little woman. But in faith and work, [she was] a wonder. “Not one of these boys goes,” she said. “Each and everyone will go to Zion.” William had to quit school to sell papers, sweep crossings, and sell milk door-to-door. He worked in a small store, never touching money left laying around by the manager. “I wouldn’t take anything I did not honestly earn,” he said. No one doubted Williams honesty. Encouraged by his mother’s faith and letters. One by one all 7, plus mother made it to the valleys of the Salt Lake. In Utah and Colorado, at age 16 he maintained railroad ties for the Rio Grande, was promoted to surveyor, track foreman, bridge inspector, and conductor, sending every penny he could to his mother while contributing to the college education of his younger brother. On a work assignment he met Rachel Ault at the Cedar Valley station. They later married and ran a boarding house. Self educated, William spoke as though a scholar, brilliant in mathematics. Knowledgeable men often came to him to solve problems. He was happy, shook hands with everyone, did not find fault, and expected his children to respect others, especially their mother, and would not settle for any kind of sloppy job. He honored people, hung photos of servicemen on his wall, and wrote a poem for each funeral in the community. “And my dear loved ones, Lord I pray, protect, direct and guide each day. Dear Lord in truth may I increase, that when my mortal life shall cease, I may be worthy, Lord, with thee, to serve through all eternity.”
“Lillie and the children were still in bed when Will came rushing into the log home, ‘Fire.’ She grabbed the baby and he carried the little girls out just as the ceiling fell on their bed. There was no water system, so it was soon all gone but a few logs. They made a small room out of these logs, shingled it and moved in before winter.” In time the family grew to 9 children, but it would have been more. Two babies died very young, and one daughter, Birdie, died as a young adult. Each loss was painful. Will worked hard. He was kind and loving, singing with Lillie, playing mouth organs with the boys, whistling while he drove horses, thrashed and sacked wheat. Will was generous when he sold his vegetables, and always had time to wrestle with the boys, and play with the children. “Prayers were always said at the table, everyone on their knees by the chairs that had been turned with their backs toward the table… Lillie… taught the parents class in Sunday School.” She worked hard, loved her family, but had her trials. When baby Blanch died, Lillie wrote, “For a long time, I went around trying to do my work and care for the family, but my heart was broken. With the help of the Lord, I overcame it all, and one morning, as I went to the creek to get a pail of water, the gloom seemed lifted and everything seemed to put on a new life. Those beautiful mountains on the west seemed to be so near and the blue sky overhead. I said to myself, ‘You foolish woman, Look up and thank God for all this beauty that you have been so blind to all these days…’ From then on, things seemed to be more to live for.” Lillie outlived her husband by 40 years. Her son said that her beauty was the kind “that emanates from heart to heart and affects the fiber of each and everyone…”
Cheryl Diane Hardman was born in January, 1951. As a brand new baby, she received a blessing by the hand of her father while he was on military training leave, then she didn’t see him again for 16 months while he served overseas for his country. She grew up a bright child. At the age of 3, Knowing that her baby brother loved bananas, Cheryl turned again to the hand of her carpenter dad and said in all seriousness, “Daddy, would you bring home some wood to make a banana tree?” As she grew, Cheryl did what most children did; she rode bikes, got cuts, had stitches, took music lessons, entered science projects and won awards. When older with 5 younger siblings, Cheryl politely told her parents that 6A students, especially the girls, “do not ride their bikes to school anymore. They are too old for that.” As a teen, Cheryl didn’t need to be reminded of homework. She enjoyed classes like typing, seminary, history, English, Spanish, science, and algebra. She even made some of her own clothes. Her favorite TV shows were, The Mouse-ka-teers, and Bonanza. With high hopes, her parents looked forward to great things in life for her. In 1969, fulfilling her college dream, Cheryl slowly developed debilitating symptoms from a disease whose diagnosis evaded doctors until Cheryl could not walk or talk; death was at the door. That year, as mankind overcame great odds and put a man on the moon, Cheryl desperately struggled and with the help of prayers, family, and many doctors, overcame the disease. She finished college, became a teacher, served others with handicaps, married, and raised a great family, thereby touching mankind for good. Thanks Cheryl, you are a great sister.
Typical for men in the depression years, Sid worked at whatever he could to keep bread on the table and a roof over the heads of his growing family. He was a “Jack of all trades,” adept at “making do,” mending with bailing wire, keeping things running. Myrtle and Sidney, served in the community and church and enjoyed the growing up years of their children being “mom and dad” to many, supporting them in their activities, inviting them to their home. This continued with grandchildren. They were protective of their children, who never heard “their dad tell a sexy or off-color joke.” He enjoyed a good clean time and liked to see others having a good time too. He pulled bobsled with his team of horses turning that sled round and round, flipping those kids out in the snow. Sid took his family role to heart; he taught, he loved, he scolded, he played, he supported. He and his sweetheart were always on hand for everything; baseball, wrestling, football, softball, proud of the accomplishments of family members. “Sid’s shop was a place of learning and the boys enjoyed working with him. Grandpa was always fussy about keeping his tools in the right place and taking care of things. So it was with his animals: he followed his dad’s training and always took care of the horses, unharnessed them, brushed them down and fed them before he had his own meal.” He was honorable and endured cheerfully throughout his life, a great example to his posterity. (Adapted by Kenneth R. Hardman from Sidney Lehi Hardman & Myrtle Emily Elton: Their Life, Their Love and Their Family, 1900-1991 compiled by Dorothy Hardman. Photo from family files) 
On April 8, 1921, the day after her 18th birthday, Ardella Anderson retired to her room where she boarded and worked, near the Malad, Idaho train depot. The caretakers, the Pecks, had gone out for the evening, the children were bathed and put to bed. Thinking she might not hear them when her hosts returned late, she went to the kitchen and uncharacteristically unlocked the kitchen door then returned to her bedroom. The spring night air was pleasant so she opened her window half way. At a quarter to twelve she awoke suddenly. A man stood in the bedroom doorway. Ardella had many friends and together they had frequent fun in the late hours dating, dancing, buggy and car riding. But this man’s dark shape, silhouetted by the dining room light, was not familiar. He stepped forward, staring down at her. She shuttered, gazing up at him. She tried to scream. He hit her in the jaw with his fist. She called for Mr. Peck, knowing he wasn’t home. The intruder stopped, backed away, ran through the door, turned out the light, and left the house. Ardella was shaken, but got the courage to run to the kitchen and lock the door. She returned to her bed. The Pecks finally came home, and learning of the intrusion, called the Sherriff who made an unsuccessful search for the man. Ardella, the friendly and smart school valedictorian, was never alone at night again. (By Kenneth R. Hardman, based on, “The Diary of Ardella Elizabeth Anderson Losee,” written from 1919 to 1929, transcribed by Jana Greenhalgh) #AncestorClips
“Grandmother, Rachel Ault Elton, was born April 19, 1859, at Stony Stratford, Buckingham, England… She was the third child of a family of thirteen children. Through misfortune of one type or another, Grandma had only two sisters and one brother who lived to adulthood. When Grandma was only five years old, her folks decided to leave England and come to Zion. They sailed from Liverpool on September 3, 1873, on the Steamship Wyoming. Mr. John B. Fairbank was the captain of the ship. In addition to her parents, two brothers, and a baby sister, there were 410 saints on the ship. Even though Grandma was very young, she remembered and has often told of how they barely escaped shipwreck when the ship became lodged one night on a large sand bar near the Sabel Islands (300 km southeast of Halifax, Nova Scotia). On this occasion everyone was called from their beds to the deck and asked to kneel in prayer. After praying for safety, they all crowded to one end of the deck, and with human balance, they dislodged the ship from the sand-bar. I am sure that it was only the result of their praying and the will of our Father in Heaven that saved them.” (By Beverly Elton Hunt and others as compiled in Hardman Biographies – Ancestors of Sidney Glenn Hardman and Dorothy Mae Griffin, 2009. Photo from family archives)
Shortly after his birth in 1898, WT Griffin, named after his father and the poet Tennyson, moved from Newton, Utah to Indian Valley, Idaho to homestead. Life was hard living off the land, raising grain and livestock. At age five or six, WT was driving a three-horse plow. Other children were born and the family prospered on their expanding ranch, sawmill, and blacksmith shop. It was hard work, but generally a happy time. At a very young age, WT learned lessons of faith from his parents. The Griffins were active in church and respected by the community. WT wrote, “Father was Presiding Elder… One day… one of the members told father that his family was in destitute circumstances, that he had earned a few dollars, which would be barely enough to buy groceries for his family. If he paid the money out for groceries he would have to wait to pay some tithing which he owed. What should he do? He felt his family should come first. Dad didn’t agree. He said, ‘You pay your tithing and we’ll see what we can do about the other.’ The thing which impressed me,” WT said, “was that the man paid his tithing and his family survived the winter very nicely… When I earned my first dollar, I… paid ten [pennies] tithing… Since that time I have been doing the same… I’ve never missed the money…”
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