While Joan and I have been serving on Maui, my brother Bob Hardman has been busy in retirement driving buses, refereeing soccer, and researching genealogy. During the latter he came across a ‘green temple’ symbol attached to a near relative. For those familiar (or unfamiliar) with FamilySearch.org, this means that the associated person or couple might have some unfinished temple work to be done. The couple is our mothers youngest sister and her husband, our Aunt Dee and Uncle Hal Reddick. When we were young we often visited and played with their children, our cousins. We didn’t have a lot of contact in our adult years. After more research on Hals ancestors, Bob contacted the oldest daughter Karen who confirmed that Dee and Hal had not been to the temple during life and she “was thrilled at the thought of her cousins doing her ancestors and parents temple work. We have her permission,” Bob said in a text to my siblings. After more discussion, plans were made for each of us to do specific ordinances in our local temples where our family members are living or serving missions (Orem, Buenos Ares, Hawaii, Idaho Falls, and Phoenix). After ordinances were performed in the Idaho Falls Temple, those who travelled there met with Karen afterwards. Bob reported, “The six of us visited just like close family… We shared old times and recent times. A closeness was felt, and some emotion shared. Karen seemed to be emotionally overjoyed that her parents work is getting done…” Spiritual experiences were reported by those doing the temple work, and by Karen. She reported to the family on our Griffin Facebook page, “I want to thank our cousins… It means SO much to me for all they are doing and to take the time to care. I am so sure that Mom and Dad are happy and that Grandma Griffin is even more pleased. This family are holding us together. Thank you, Aunt Dot and Uncle Glenn, for teaching your family to love and care…” Dot or Dorothy and Glenn are our parents. Karen’s post brought tears to our eyes.
Since Joan and I were traveling to Utah, Bob planned a session at Saratoga Springs for Hal and Dee’s sealing. As Joan and I knelt across the alter representing my aunt and uncle, the memories of Hal and Dee powerfully flooded my mind and heart. The spirit was tangible and we all knew there was special joy, even cheering among our ancestors that day in heaven.
The above story was a tender mercy in many ways after a painful Utah-local and world-impacting tragic event. We had traveled from Maui to San Diego on Monday, September 8 to visit family before going on to Utah for a couple of doctor’s appointments. While in California we had a joyful time with our daughter Bonnie, her wonderful husband David, and our grandson Dexter. They were so welcoming to us. We drove to Utah on September 10th. Mid-day, we and our whole family received a text from our daughter Melanie that started with, “Hey family, I just wanted to let you all know that I’m safe.” She then reported, “there was a shooting just barely at a public event on campus.” Melanie, as well as our grand-daughter, and a special friend of another grand-daughter are students at Utah Valley University (UVU) and were on campus at the time of the shooting. Melanie was locked down with other students in her building and reported what it was like among students who were getting immediate and graphic information via social media, even before information came to them from the school. Text messages of “shock, compassion, concern, and love” from family members poured back to Melanie on the text stream including status of other family and friends. The students were soon released to leave campus. We tuned in to news sources and the remaining drive through central Utah was heavy on our hearts. We eventually passed by UVU going toward our home where we were able to hug our daughter and get more details. Stating details of the event here is not my desire since the world is likely now tuned in to broadcasts of the latest. For me the days since that loss of life have been hard on my soul and I pray for peace, I pray for our world, I pray for people and leaders to turn to God and be wise and compassionate and to love one-another. We have since been able to hug and spend personal time with each family member who was on campus that day. We are grateful for their physical safety, and now we all work to recover from our emotional wounds.
As part of our therapy, Joan and I took a ride to our local and familiar mountains. We rode the Sundance Resort chair lifts to the top and breathed in Mount Timpanogos, the fresh air, life, beauty, memories, and each other’s company. We felt an extra measure of love for strangers that day we saw along the way. We felt a small tender measure of peace amidst the ashes of the week. We felt increased desire to love and care and be patient.
Back on Maui we are grateful for our friend and Senior Missionary, Elder Jeff Taylor who has substituted during our absence providing addiction recovery support meetings to our friends there. We know that mortality is challenging and that our good and loving Father in Heaven provided a Savior for us who has the power to redeem whatever needs to be redeemed. We know that as we believe in Him, and faithfully follow Him, we can be partakers of that sweet redemption and tender mercies. God bless you all.
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
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…”
In about 1841, with their new Mormon faith and seven children under the age of eleven, my 3rd great grandparents, Abraham and Elizabeth Coon experienced the heavy persecutions that drove the Latter-day Saints from Missouri. More children came in Nauvoo Illinois but one died in infancy. As persecution followed them to Nauvoo, Abraham and Elizabeth headed west with the Saints. With her support, Abraham served as bishop, never turning away the needy, experiencing “wagon accidents, diseases, Indians, tough river-crossings, loss of cattle and wagons, and many deaths.” He served as a captain of ten, and looked after several families whose husbands or fathers were called away in the Mormon Battalion. Although losing four of ten children in death, one as a baby, and three as older teenagers including one to cholera, they pressed forward to the Salt Lake Valley. Thank you Abraham and Elizabeth for your faith, honor, service and hard work.
In 1876, on a trip to Florence Nebraska to bring goods back to Salt Lake City, my great-great-grandfather John Griffin and east-bound company attempted to get west-bound pioneers, goods, and oxen across the Green River in Wyoming. Due to storm and wind, the oxen resisted swimming across, moved around in a circle, generated a whirlpool, and caused three oxen to drown. Attempting to yoke the remaining oxen and ferry them across, John and other men retrieved chains from the west side of the river and hurried back to the ferry. John was prompted that he should not go on the ferry and held back. That ferry turned over and three passengers drowned. This was one of many trips east, to get supplies, serve a mission, and help immigrants coming west. I’m grateful for John’s never ending service and attention to divine feelings. He is a great example to his very large posterity.
In the early 1920s, having served as a wireless telegraph operator and sergeant at the end of World War 1, high school valedictorian Andrew Fredrick Losee, set his course for college degrees that would some day land him as a teacher at a university. Part way to his goal, with a master’s degree in hand, he took a position as a high school teacher in Malad Idaho and acquired residence at the local boarding house where Ardella Anderson worked for room and board. Andrew and Ardella developed a friendship, fell in love and married in the Salt Lake Temple in September of 1924 then departed for Chicago to complete his doctorate studies in education, mathematics, physical science, history and psychology. While learning and serving in church callings, Ardella had an appendectomy, and was diagnosed with a leaky heart attributed to earlier rheumatic fever. Putting his goal on hold, Andrew moved Ardella back to the clean dry air of Idaho and Utah where he took teaching positions in Preston, Orderville, and a temporary assignment at Snow College in Ephraim, returning to Lehi each summer to help on the farm. They welcomed a son, Rex into their family in 1926, then a second son, Ferril in 1928. Ardella’s heart condition worsened so the small family made another move closer to better medical attention in Price, Utah, however in December of 1930, Ardella died in the hospital at the age of 27. Andrew found himself alone. A faithful teacher, Andrew taught for another year and a half in Price, then thinking of his boys, he moved back home to Lehi, terminating his goal, and his profession, to raise his boys on the family farm and to care for his aging parents. Ten years later, Andrew married a widow with five children, together caring for seven. In the words of his son, Ferril, “Andrew Losee’s life was filled with unselfish service. He was kind and loving. He was an intelligent man and well educated. He was respected and honored by all who knew him.” Andrew Losee inspires me to set good goals, pursue them with effort, but place family and service first above all else. Both of Andrew’s sons went on to teach at universities.
AncestorClips 