WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

(1853-1935) Son of Levi Stewart and Margery Wilkerson

 The following is taken from History of William Thomas Stewart, by Mary Stewart Lee and Marion Stewart Peterson.

 William Thomas Stewart, second son of Levi and Margery Wilkerson Stewart, was born October 18th, 1853 at Dry Creek, or Big Cottonwood, as it was later called, just outside the city limits of Salt Lake City, Utah. Here he lived with his family until 1870.

Father Levi Stewart, active in community and Church affairs, acted as driver of the carriage for President Brigham Young. From the time his son William Thomas was but a lad of twelve years he went along with his father, often driving the team himself. On one of their trips they covered the area from Salt Lake City southward to St. George and on to the Moapa Valley in Nevada with a view in mind to locate suitable sites for establishing settlements.

In the year 1870 President Brigham Young dedicated the Kanab area to the Lord. In that same year President Young called Levi Stewart to form a company and go to Kanab and there establish a permanent settlement.

On this trip Levi Stewart took only part of his family, his wife Margery, a son, William T. (Grandfather Stewart who was now sixteen), and a small daughter, Lucinda (known to later members of the family as Aunt Lucy). Several other men and some of their families made up the company. Levi Stewart later brought with him the rest of his family.

Gradually other settlers came to join those who first settled Kanab, and improvements in living conditions made for a more satisfactory condition. There were no luxuries, and the days were spent in hard labor.

At the end of 1870 a terrible tragedy took sad toll of the Stewart family. Cabins had been built for Bishop Levi Stewart's families. A fire broke out in a room of one of these on December 14, 1870 where the Bishop's sons were sleeping. Almost before the alarm could be given, the place was engulfed in flames. The Bishop's wife, Margery and -Eke Stout rushed in to save the boys. A moment later, Mr. Stout stumbled from the blazing cabin with little Alonzo Stewart, but the poor Mother and five of the Stewart sons perished in the flames. Ten gallons of kerosene and five gallons of turpentine exploded while the Mother and children were still in the cabin. The explosion caused the dirt roof to fall in, barring their exit.

The little boy, Alonzo, was not seriously burned. Those who lost their lives in the fire, besides the Mother, were Levi H. Stewart, Heber Carlos, Charles C., Urban Van and Edward L. Three were the sons of the wife who perished. One was the son of Bishop Stewart's living wife, Artemacy, and one the son of a wife who had died sixteen years before.

After the fire, the living wife, Artemacy, whom they all called Aunt Macy, raised the children. She was a sister to Margery, who had perished in the fire. The family continued to live in Kanab, farming there and raising cattle on the Kaibab Mountains.

It was at Kanab that William Thomas Stewart (hereafter referred to as Grandfather Stewart) met Rachel Tamar Hamblin, daughter of Jacob Hamblin and Rachel Judd. They were sealed at the Endowment House in Salt Lake City, Utah on the 22nd of September 1873. To them were born two children: Maud Rachel on the 25th of April 1875 and Thomas Hamblin on the 9th of March 1877. This little son, Thomas, and his mother died that same year.

In 1876 Lawrence Mariger, David Udall, and Grandfather formed a mercantile company in Kanab. They built a one room frame building with a full-length lean-to that was used as a warehouse. L. C. Mariger acted as manager. They operated until they were advised by the Church leaders to establish a cooperative store, using as many citizens as possible as stockholders.

Also, in 1876, Grandfather was brought word that President Brigham Young had called him on a special mission to the Zuni Indians. He was called to accompany Ammon M. Tenney to New Mexico. They left in July and returned in the fall of that same year. Grandfather also acted with other men on a council to meet with Navajo Councils to have peace with the Indians. Jacob Hamblin was the Indian agent.

About this time he met Mary Ann Udall, who came from Nephi, Utah with her father, David Udall, to visit her brother David K. and his wife Ella Stewart, sister of William Thomas.

Frequently, thereafter, he met Mary Ann as he traveled between Kanab and Salt Lake City, hauling freight, because he often stopped at Nephi overnight. He fell in love with her and asked her to marry him, but she made him wait for some time before giving him an answer. A note from Grandfather's journal, written after a stop in Nephi, tells of his feelings; he was there with a buggy and team, and when he was ready to leave, Mary Ann went out to the buggy to see him off. He wrote that he reached out with his buggy whip and lifted her pretty curls up, as she wore her hair in curls pinned back, and the breeze was blowing. He said she was so beautiful standing there talking to him.

Still waiting for Mary Ann's answer, Grandfather fell in love with Fannie Maria Little, daughter of James A. Little and Mary Ann Lytle. They were married in the St. George Temple on the 29th of May in 1879. To them were born two children: Tamar on the 3rd May 1880 and Fannie on the 15th of Dec 1882. She died a week later on 22 December 1882 leaving her two little girls.

Fifteen months after Grandfather had married Fannie Little, Grandmother (Mary Ann Udall) finally answered Grandfather's marriage question with a 'yes'. They were married in the St. George Temple on the 16th of August 1880. The following children were born to them: William Thomas Jr. 1881 - July 19th ,Sumner Udall 1882 - Dec 18th ,David Levi 1887 - Mar 28th,Raymond 1889 - June 12th,Carlos 1891 - July 2nd ,Margery 1894 - Dec 2nd,Paul Edward 1897 - Nov 12th,Marion King 1900 - Dec 9th,Mary 190Z - Nov 24th

All of these were born in Kanab, Kane County, Utah except Mary, who was born in Alamo, Lincoln, Nevada.

Grandfather was a self-educated man. He was an avid reader with a marvelous memory. He studied all types of books, good books of the Church, law, history, and English. What he read he remembered and put to use.

In 1880 Grandfather was elected prosecuting attorney of Kane County and re-elected to that post in 1887. He also served as president of the town board of Kanab for several years. He also served as assessor and collector of Kane County, being appointed first by Caleb W. West, then Governor, and second by the following Governor, Arthur L. Thomas.

In 1878 he was called to assist in recording in the St. George Temple. He was an excellent speller and penman. For four months he served in this capacity. When he was released, he could not straighten his right arm for several weeks. The following is a copy of a letter that called him to this position:

 St. George, Utah, Feb. 14, 1878,Bro. Wm. T. Stewart, Kanab

 Dear Bro.,

We desire you to come and assist in recording in the Temple, just as soon as you can make it convenient. Terms - put your trust in God, work without wages, and we will do the best we can for you.

Yours in the Gospel,

W. Woodruff

 

P. S. You have been highly recommended by Bro. Farnsworth, and during your labors here, we will divide with you and shall fare as we do.

 

W. W. Grandfather Levi Stewart had moved a saw mill into Kanab country and had built a two–story, six-room home, which was completed in 1872. William Thomas Stewart later built a very comfortable lumber home near his father's for his wives and children.

Grandmother Mary Ann's first two children were very near the ages of Aunt Fannie's children. Fannie had her second daughter, also named Fannie, just three days before Mary Ann had her second son, Sumner Udall. Soon after, Fannie Maria passed away leaving her two daughters for Grandmother Mary Ann to help raise.

Grandmother, too, was seriously ill with child bed fever. What sad days for Grandfather. It was in January 1883 that he received a call to go as one of the first missionaries among the Maori people on the islands of New Zealand. When he left in April, Grandmother was still not very well. Such was the faith of these good people, that they fulfilled the call without question. They knew that all would be well if they did what the Lord asked of them. These faithful people loved the Lord, and they were very devoted to their families, public service, and the Church.

Grandfather was set apart for this Mission on April 22nd by Apostle Heber J. Grant. A Missionary blessing was given to him by Heber J. Grant.

By July 17th, when he was appointed to preside over the Austrailian Mission. He had very well mastered the Maori language. The New Zealand people were called Maoris. This Mission lasted for three years. He loved these people for their simple lives and their deep devotion of the converts. He loved the beautiful country with its numerous flowers and plants. He brought home with him many samples of flowers, leaves and ferns. He had meticulously pressed, mounted and identified them in a large book.

Grandfather had only been home from this first Mission to New Zealand for 5 years when he was again called to New Zealand to preside over the Australian Mission. He was to leave the 1st of July, but another baby was due, so he waited for the event. Two other sons had joined the family between the two missions--David Levi and Raymond. Another son, Carlos, was born on July 2nd. When the baby was but 3 days old, Grandfather left to join the other missionaries who had gone ahead to San Francisco. He was set apart for this Mission by Pres. Wilford Woodruff in July 1891.

By this time he was leaving behind him 8 children: five sons by Grandmother, the oldest 11 years old, the youngest 3 days old. There were three daughters by other wives. What a test of faith for husband and wife!

In those days the missionaries traveled without purse or script. But both Grandfather and Grandmother proved equal to the call. The Church gave some financial aid to the family, but Grandmother did millinery work and clerked in a store. Grandfather later related how many times he would leave his mission home to post a letter without money enough to buy the stamp. Before he would reach the Post Office, the money had been provided by a friend he had met who would press his hand gently and leave him some money. In various ways the money needed was forthcoming. He traveled on both Missions without purse or script, or as they say--no money.

Once when the seat of his pants was too thin for safety, the pants were miraculously provided. Great was Grandfather's faith and trust that the Lord would provide --and He did.

Letters that Grandfather wrote home to Grandmother took two months to go and come. He wrote lines one way and then wrote across paper and lines the other way.

William was released from his second Mission on Oct. 14, 1893. As he was Mission President, he released himself.

After Grandfather's return three more children were added to the Stewart family. Margery--the first daughter born to Grandfather and Grandmother after five boys--Paul and Marion. Now they had seven sons and one daughter plus the three daughters by Grandfather's first wives.

Shortly after Grandfather returned from his second Mission, the Stewarts sold their property in Kanab and went to St. Johns, Arizona. They were not satisfied there, however, and at the end of a year they returned to Kanab.

Grandfather was given a second appointment as Assessor and Collector of Kane County. Soon after this appointment he left again seeking a new home--"greener pastures" --where his sons and daughters could have homes near him as they became adults. He wished to have enough property so that as each one left home to go out on his own, he might be able to give each one material aid by giving them land enough to farm. With this in mind, he moved his family to Pahranagat Valley-Pahranagat meaning in Indian language, "many waters."

William Thomas Stewart and Michael Botts bought the Pierson Ranch and other lands in Pahranagat Valley, Lincoln County, Nevada on the 18th of April, 1901. Along with Mike Botts, who was a friend, and Albert Riggs, a brother-in-law, they moved all their household goods with teams and wagon. They drove their cattle the long, dusty, hot trail from Kanab to the valley. Later Grandfather bought and paid Michael Botts $2, 000 for 240 acres of his land. The rest of the Botts estate was deeded to Margery Botts, who later married Joseph Foremaster.

On November 24, 1902 their last child, a daughter named Mary, was born. She was the only child of Grandfather's that was born in Alamo. Most of the others had been born in Kanab except for Tamar, who was born in Manti, Utah.

Real Pioneering was involved when they left comfortable homes and came to this out-of-the-way place where there were no good buildings, no stores, schools or Church organizations.

The town was laid out methodically, for this was the way Grandfather did things. Schools and Sunday Schools were established. The first homes were not very pretentious. They were mostly concerned in raising cattle and saleable farm crops first.

William T. Stewart, Jr. was married soon after they reached Alamo. He brought his wife to Alamo. As the years passed, more sons married and brought their wives to Alamo to live. The three daughters left in Kanab soon married. By 1928 Grandfather’s entire family had married.

At this time the mining town of Delamar was flourishing. It provided a splendid market for their produce: cattle, milk, homemade butter, eggs, corn and other garden vegetables, as well as, hay and grain for the animals (mules and horses) used at the mines. The two oldest sons, Will and Sumner, ran a livery stable at Delamar.

The life of the mining town was short. When it came to a halt, the people in the valley bought most of their fairly good frame buildings and moved them to Alamo. The Stewart home was one of the largest and best of these. Grandfather herded sheep and used the money to pay for his home. It cost $250. 00 all furnished.

At Alamo Grandfather again took up political work. In 1902 he was authorized by the court of Judge G. L. Talbot of Lincoln County, Nevada to solemnize marriages in the 4th Judicial District. This he did for a good many years.

In 1901 Grandfather took up the Church work in Alamo. He helped organize a Branch there, and was presiding Elder until the Ward was organized in 1906. The Alamo Ward was started on Sept 21, 1906 as part of the St. George Stake. He served as a counselor to the first Bishop, Elder James Allen. For many years he was Ward Clerk. He and his sons continued to farm and raise cattle.

He served for several years as a commissioner of Lincoln County, beginning in 1909. Also in this year, he was elected Justice of the Peace for Alamo. He held this position until 1932. From 1926 until 1932 he acted as registrar of the Alamo Precinct.

All of these positions he filled with wisdom, dignity and justice. Grandfather never would pass judgment without carefully weighing both sides of a problem. His wisdom and fairness became widely known, and all highly respected his judgment. His sly humor seasoned his sour decisions. In like manner he conducted his many Church assignments with sincerity and deep devotion.

In August of 1922 Grandfather and Grandmother were called as Temple workers for the St. George Temple where they served for two years. In Sept 1922 their youngest son, Marion, was called to serve as a missionary for three years in Old Mexico. In 1923 his youngest daughter, Mary, was married.

The family was far from affluent financially, but such was the faith of parents and sons that there was not the slightest hesitation about accepting and fulfilling all these obligations. His letters of encouragement and cheer to his son, Marion, helped him over many difficult moments.

The family recalls with tenderness and pride this kindly, stately and very dear Father. They retell his many jokes, which he would tell so well. They remember how he loved cattle and horses, horse racing and boxing. He loved good books, and he loved good poetry. One of his best loved poems was Kipling's "If."

His teachings of faith have been and still are an inspiration to his family and to many members of the Ward where he was known and loved as "Uncle Tommy." He always warned against finding fault with those in authority in the Church, saying, "You are treading on dangerous ground." We recall with pleasure his exact English, his deep spirituality, his love of people, the Gospel, his family and life itself. He was never too busy for a romp with the little ones, children and grandchild

Grandfather loved to read newspapers and good books. He often stayed up all night to read a book. When troubled or in deep thought he would walk with his hands locked behind his back, one foot slightly turned out. Often his concentration was so deep he was unaware of those about him even though they spoke directly to him.

His legacy to his family was not great in the material things of the world, but it was vast in spiritual things that he lived and taught. His word was as good as his bond. He was honest with the Church and his fellow men.

Grandfather's posterity contains many outstanding personalities that are contributing to the welfare of the communities in which they live, their Church, and to the country in which they live.

Three of his sons filled missions. Two served long years as Bishops and so on down; his posterity has served and are still serving in important positions in the Church.

 

RECORD OF CHURCH OFFICES

Special Mission to the Zuni Indians in New Mexico with Ammon M. Tenney - called by President Brigham Young July 1876 to Fall of that same year

Missionary call to New Zealand - 30 April 1883 to 1886 -called by President John Taylor

President over the Australian Mission 17 July 1883

Second Missionary call to preside over the Austraian Mission - 8 April 1891 to January 1894 - called by President Wilford Woodruff

Called to assist in recording in the St. George Temple -14 Feb 1878 - served four months

President of Elder's Quorum - 1886

Stake Y. M. M. 1. A. President, St. George Stake (while member of Kanab Ward)

High Councilman, St. George Stake (while member of Kanab Ward)

Presiding Elder at the time Alamo was a Branch of St. George Stake 1901 to September 1906

First Counselor to James L. Allen when Alamo Ward was organized - 1906

Appointed to take charge of missionary work in Alamo Ward, Moapa Stake 9 Nov 1921 called by Stake President Willard L. Jones

Called with wife (Mary Ann Udall) to work in St. George Temple for two years August 1922 to 1924

Original copies of all certificates are held by Mary Stewart Lee, daughter of William Thomas Stewart.

 

RECORD OF PUBLIC OR COMMNITY OFFICES

 

UTAH

1 Aug 1880, Prosecuting Attorney Kanab, Kane, Utah

1887 President of Town Board - Kanab, Kane, 'Utah (done at Salt Lake City 11 Oct 1887)

Assessor and Collector, Kane County, Utah (appointed by Governor Caleb W. West 22 Sept 1887)

Member of the House of Representatives, Kane County - 16 Aug 1887

Prosecuting Attorney for Kane County, Utah I August 1887

Registration Officer, Kane County, Utah, Territory of Utah - 4 Feb 1888

Member of House of Representatives from 24th District - 21 Aug 1889

President Board of Trustees for Kanab Town Incorporation, empowered by Governor Arthur L. Thomas - 15 Aug 1889

 

NEVADA

Received order of Court to solemnize marriages Lincoln County, State of Nevada 5 January 1902 by G. L. Talbot

Judge of 4th Judicial District (held this office for many years)

County Commissioner for Lincoln County - 1909 (held for many years)

Justice of the Peace, Town of Alamo, Lincoln County to 193Z (appointed)

Registrar Lincoln County, Alamo Precinct 1926-1932

Original copies of all certificates are held by Mary Stewart Lee, daughter of William Thomas Stewart.

 

Memories and Tributes

Written by Relatives and Friends

 

MEMORIES OF MY FATHER

by Mary Stewart Lee, 1970

When I think of my Father, I see him as a medium-sized man. He was thin. He wore a small shoe. He had blue eyes and beautiful gray, wavy hair. When he first started to go gray, he would pay me and other children money to pull the gray hairs.

I have very fond memories of him. He loved his children and did everything good for their welfare. He also did a good job with himself as a self-made student.

Father helped us with our school lessons. He never misused the English language. He was very clean in his conversation. He could enjoy a good clean joke, or he could be as stern as a person could be. He was a good speller. If I ever wrote him a letter with a misspelled word, he would say, "Why don’t you use the dictionary?" He was a good penman. It was a pleasure to be in his presence. He always had a very pleasant smile for you.

When I lived in St. George in 1924, waiting for my first son to arrive, there was a plaque on the wall that said--"The thing that goes the farthest toward making life worthwhile that cost the least and does the most is just a pleasant smile." He liked it.

As a child, and growing up, I would ask Father if I could do something or go somewhere. If he told me "No," that was it. I couldn't talk him into deciding otherwise. He always studied the situation over before making the decision. Sometimes he was so deep in thought reading his newspaper or books that he wouldn't hear me or didn't give me an answer, so I took for granted it was all right to go. As the saying goes, "Silence gives consent."

Father taught us respect for people older than ourselves, regardless of who they were. He would never listen to anyone or allow us to say unkind words or gossip about a person. He said if we wished to say something about a person, tell something good or keep still.

He always told us when you start finding fault with those in authority in the Church you are treading on dangerous ground. He lived his religion and taught us well in the Gospel. He was a man who could preach a sermon (Gospel) and live it too. He was like the Patriarchs of old. His word was as good as his bond. He liked all kinds of sports known at that time. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a good horse race or a good boxing match. Of course he had to read about the boxing matches. He and his sons usually owned some good race horses. He always owned riding horses. He taught me to ride horses, ice skate, and run foot races.

How well I remember a month before he died in July 1935 when he called his family together. He told us he knew he was soon going to pass away from this life. He admonished us to live our religion, be a united family and do good to those about us. He said he had lived a long and useful life and was ready to go. He wasn't afraid of death, and how well he was prepared to go.

He never complained of his condition or health. He had asthma, which made him have a bad heart, and later his death came as a result of that trouble. He had lots of stomach trouble too. The asthma was inherited from his father and has been handed on down to his family. He died August 21, 1935 at the age of 82. He went as an honored father and man. He left his posterity, which is very numerous, a rich heritage.

My Tribute to My Father--William Thomas Stewart by Marion King Stewart

My first impressions of my father were made at a very early stage in my life. He was so kind and considerate of me. As I look back now, being seventy-one years old, and having filled a mission and held many important positions in the Church, I realize that the credit goes to my father. He prepared me for the work of the Lord by example and by his wise teachings.

Our home was a real L. D. S. family home. We gave thanks on bended knees morning and night around a large table, and each member of the family was expected to be there "or else." His prayers were simple, but sincere, as if he were in the presence of the Master. Oh how I loved those prayers One of the finest tributes paid me by Father's friends was given in Kanab at the time of my sister Tamar's death. They said, "You pray just like your father." We opened our eyes expecting it to be him.

He was a very spiritual man. One day when I went to Church with him, in conversation with a girl, I made a light-minded statement. We were at quite a distance from Father. He was called to speak, and lo, he used the statement I had made for his text. I knew he was inspired of God. I loved to talk to him on the doctrines of the Church. What a wise man he was!

He was my first home teacher companion. What an experience this was, visiting the families, helping to solve their problems, etc. The people had great love and respect for him.

His kindness to the poor and needy was something to be admired. On one occasion he traded a sow and her litter of little pigs to a neighbor for a given number of cedar fence posts of good quality. When the man brought them, they were crooked, small and short in number. Father sent me to check. them and report to him, which I did. I was indignant at the quality of the posts and quite insistent that Father have the man make them good.

"Yes," he said, "I could do that and lose a good friend. After all, see the big family he is raising. He needs our help." I have always tried to remember this in my dealings with my fellow men.

On another occasion he thought I was making fun of a member of this same family, one younger than I. He gave me a good trouncing for it. Afterwards, I explained to him that I wasn't making fun. His reply was, "Well, maybe you didn't have this one coming, but it made up for some you missed." He was right.

He taught me to love my country and to render service to my fellow men. Not long after I was married, I bought a store. Father gave me further advice by saying, "Now you will be in a position to help a great many people."

The young people of this generation complain of the "generation gap." Well, we had ours also, but my father had his own way of closing this gap with me. First, there was the cattle disaster at Groom Lake when cattle were dying from poison. I was home from high school at Panaca, due to so much flu, so Father took me with him to the range at Groom Lake.

We camped on Disappointment Ridge. Oh, it was cold! A cold wind swept down from Baldy Mountain. Father and I huddled close together to keep warm. I felt close to him in all ways that night. The next day everybody helped us to Cattle Springs. We had a small cabin there. It snowed for 3 days. I cooked and did the dishes while Father read to me Zane Gray's novels.

The weather cleared, and we started with the pack horse to make the rounds of Baldy Mountain. We caught and branded long-ear calves that had come down out of the mountains. We had gathered quite a herd with one long-ear yearling among them. Father wanted to make sure it was ours, trying to mate the yearling with its mother. Finally, he decided it belonged to a cow of Merle Schofield's, so we put Merle's brand on it. The law of the range would have endorsed our taking it, but not for Father--honest to the very limit. We could use more of his kind now.

The morning we were to leave Baldy Mountain we awakened very early to find our tarp very heavy and down in our faces. It had snowed about four inches. After breakfast, with our horses and mule, we headed south finding many long-ears among the cattle in the Valley below Rock Springs. There were two big long-eared animals. Father caught one but left the larger one for me. I caught my animal, thanks to a very good horse, Balley Darkey. I had him down and tied ready for branding when Father showed up. His comment was, "You've passed your test as a cowhand, but as a cook--that's something else."

He taught me the art of farming; how the land needed the right amount of water and working or plowing, the right time for planting and for harvesting; but he would never let me do any of it on Sunday, the Lord's Day.

While in high school, when there seemed to be a conflict between God's word and science, just a few moments discussion with Father about it, and everything would fall into place. What a wise man!

There is another phase of Father's life that very little has been known or written about. He had a good knowledge of the law and a good understanding of human nature plus a strong sense of justice. In Utah, and after coming to Nevada, he held several public offices. He served in the legislature in Utah. His first office in Nevada was a county commissioner. Later, and for many years, he served as Justice of the Peace in Alamo. During his service as Justice, a murder was committed in Caliente by a deputy sheriff, named Palmer. There was much public sentiment in Caliente both for and against the deputy. The Justice of the Peace in Caliente disqualified himself from hearing the case and Father was brought in to hear it.

The complaint charged the deputy with first degree murder. Father listened to the hearing, then reduced the charge to 2nd degree murder and bound him over to district court. This bit of wisdom made for better feelings on both sides, thus avoiding serious trouble.

Another noted criminal case heard in Father's Justice Court was the Morlock and Carter case, which almost broke the county. This double murder was committed on Irish Mountain in 1931. On December 24th young Murdock and his companion, Carter, both from Ohio, came to mine at Irish, seeking money from the senior Murdock, who was running a mine there. A partner of the senior Murdock, a Mr. Huke, was encountered first. The boys killed Mr. Huke, put his body in an old manger, and they piled bags of cement on him. Then they started to break open the safe of the mining company when they heard Mr. Murdock coming to the cabin. The two of them then shot and killed the father, hauled his body some distance away, and they covered it with brush. Then taking all the money they could find at the cabin and Mr. Murdock's car, they left. They went to Pioche where they drew all of Mr. Murdock money from the bank and drove back to Ohio.

The bodies were not discovered until April, through some good detective work on the part of Sheriff Charles Culverwell, who brought the two men to Alamo for trial. Father bound them over for trial in District Court on a first-degree murder charge.

They were tried before a jury of which my brothers Will David and Paul were members. My father was invited by Judge William Orr to sit in on the case. The jury found them guilty, but they recommended leniency. They were sentenced to life imprisonment in the State Penitentiary.

The prisoners asked for a minister to hear their confessions. Father was recommended by Judge Orr. He heard their confessions but never divulged them to anyone. So ended the most expensive trial ever held in Lincoln County, Nevada.

At the close of this tribute to my father, I believe if I were to express a message from him to his posterity, that it would be, "Love one another. Put the Gospel of Jesus Christ first in your lives. Do good to all men, for all are the children of God, whom he loved and served even to giving his life for them."

 

WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART--MY FATHER

by Paul Stewart

Father always read to me while I cooked the meals out on the range. We never took lunch or water with us on a day's ride. We would ride from Baldy Mountain (about 50 miles) without water. Rock Springs and Rabbit Brush Springs on Baldy Mt. were the only means of water. We might take a can of tomatoes along part of the time. We only took a wagon with supplies in it if we were going to stay over night or for any length of time.

All of Father’s life he had good horses. They were brought from Kanab out here. They were mostly Thoroughbred. He loved to watch the horses run races but never gambled or allowed cards or alcohol in his home. Mother had some whiskey for medical reasons like diarrhea, etc. in her kit.

Father always told us if you can't say anything good about someone don't say anything. I never heard him say a bad word about anybody. He never entered into an argument of a family nature or interfered with our personal affairs after we were married.

He took me out of school in the eighth grade to help him herd sheep for Henry's over on Delamar Flat.

He would go help us out on the range, which he loved to do all of his life. Father used to chase the cows down out of the mountains on an old horse and never let up at 70. One time a horse fell with him when it was running, and it didn't even hurt him. He loved to read, even when riding along on a horse's back.

One time Father was settling on "Pinenuts" with his newspaper. A wind came up and rattled the paper, and the horse jumped and threw him off.

It was always easier to talk to Mother than to Father. I can remember telling Mother first when I was going to get married.

Father was stern and strict but a gentle and patient man. He didn't talk much unless he had reason.

  

GRANDFATHER STEWART

by Louise B. Stewart, daughter-in-law

My earliest remembrance of William Thomas Stewart is of a very dignified, gentleman who usually graced a front-row seat in Church. Everyone called him "Uncle Tommy" for he was either grandfather or uncle to so many. To all he was a beloved friend. I learned later that he was slightly hard of hearing; this being the reason he took a front seat at services.

Then I heard him preach a sermon. It impressed me very much, as did every sermon I ever heard him give. He gave the impression of being well-educated, chosen and precisely enunciated. Actually he was not scholastically educated, as I was to learn later, but he was an avid reader --self-educated. His sermons were classics of humility and wisdom.

He had a stately bearing. His silvery-gray hair and mustache plus his serene and benign appearance reminded one of the patriarchs of old.

Little did I dream that he was to become my father-in-law, but as such, he was equally wise, kindly, and gentle. He could be roused to anger when he disapproved of an issue or a dishonorable deed. He was Justice of the Peace all the years I knew him, and so felt a great responsibility to justice and law. He felt great responsibility to his community also.

His great and profound knowledge of matters of law often amazed me. I was to learn later that he had served many years while still living in Utah as Prosecuting Attorney. Most of all, his knowledge of the scriptures, and his ability to recall and interpret them made me know this was no ordinary man.

As a father-in-law and grandfather he came often to our home. He came every day to read our newspaper and to play with our three little girls. He did not talk a great deal, but he was willing to listen to my complaints about things so strange and unusual to me in this little isolated community of Alamo. His quiet words of explanation understanding and advice will always remain with me.

He loved to hold the little girls on his knees and recite or sing to them little ditties or nursery rhymes. I regret that he passed away while our girls were still too young to remember much about him. About all they can recall is that they were fascinated by his mustache. They would reach up to feel it, and he would playfully snap at them which produced giggles and gales of laughter from the girls.

Grandfather Stewart was a gentleman of the old school. My memories of him are dear and reverent.

  

THE STORY OF GRANDFATHER STEWART

by Jessie Lamb Stewart., daughter-in-law

Grandfather Stewart married his son, David Levi, and Jessie Lamb on June 30, 1907 at Alamo, Nevada. We were married at Alamo as the St. George Temple was closed at this time.

From the time I married into this wonderful family, how I learned to love them all. Grandfather, as we all called him, was very dear to me. He was an inspiration to me always. Through the years he would come to our home and visit all day, telling of his wonderful missions in the Islands - how he loved the Maori people. He told me how they watched for him to come from one place to the other. They said his ship always had a white cloud over it as he traveled on the water. They had a quarrel one time --some of the men. One smoked, and one drank, and the one said that the smoking was the worst sin in the Church--a worse sin than the drinking. So they sent for Grandfather and watched for him to come. They said that they watched, and finally they saw this ship coming with the cloud over it, and they knew that he was on his way. He came ashore and went with them to the house of worship where they were having this meeting. They explained that one said he thought that smoking was the worst sin, and the other thought that drinking was the worst sin. So he said, "Well, you smoke?" And the one said, "Yes." Grandfather said, "Well, that is the worst sin for you, and the drinking is the worst sin for you," he said to the other man. "So they are just the same. Whichever one you do and have the habit of, that is the worst." So they were perfectly satisfied and felt all right about the argument. Grandfather’s picture hangs in the Temple in these Islands.

He loved his family very much. His grandchildren were his great delights. His blessing said his posterity would become as Abraham, and so much of it has come true, the way the families are growing. Grandfather was a great teacher. It was such a joy when I could sit and listen to his stories of the faith of the pioneers, the wonderful experiences he went through, and the times the Lord had answered his prayers.

He was a lawyer--had volumes of law books. There was trouble in Caliente one time. An officer went to arrest a young boy who was drinking, and the boy ran. The officer told him to stop, and he didn't stop. The officer shot him and killed him. They were just up in arms about it. In this little town of Caliente some wanted to hang the officer and some took the officer's part. There was quite a disturbance in the group. So they sent to Reno, and the judges came down. They said that they were just fighting each other. They had never seen such a thing as they were having, the spirit that was in Caliente. Then they sent to Alamo for Grandfather Stewart to come down, which he did. And when he got there he had just 20 minutes before he had to give his talk and decide what to do with the charge against the officer. Grandfather told me when he came back he said he wanted all of his grandchildren to know about this. He hurried and went over into a little building behind this place where they were holding the trial, and he knelt down and told the Lord that he never needed him so much in all of his life as he did at this time. He just didn't know what to say or what to do, and that He would just have to help him. So they came back into the court room, and the words just flowed from his mouth. He told them the most wonderful things and told them why this officer shouldn't have done this. And he said it may be next week, it may be one of your boys, and tomorrow it may be one of mine. Anyway, he calmed them all down. They were lined up on the outside of the walk, and they all shook hands with Grandfather and said they never had seen any case handled that settled everybody's minds like the way he had handled it. He said it was just through the spirit of the Lord that he was able to do this.

He told us of the time that he was on the desert, and his horse had given out, and he was having to walk. It was so hot. As he walked along, he felt so thirsty, and his horse was so thirsty that they couldn't stand it. He finally could see that they just had to have water, that was all. So, he knelt down and asked the Lord to send some water or take him to the water so that he and his horse could go on. He said that when he got up off of his kneesthere wasn't a cloud in the sky, but after, in a few minutes, there was a cloud that came over. He was in a rocky gorge, and he said it started to rain, and it rained enough to fill the little crevices in the rocks so that he and the horse could get water. He said that he filled his canteen and drank and gave his horse some water and went on. He said a hundred yards from this little pile of rocks there wasn't even a sprinkle. It had just rained right over him and his animal. That's the kind of stories he would tell us, and we would love to hear them.

When he was through with his Mission he went back to Kanab and saw that there wasn't room there for his boys to prosper and get ahead. So, he and Mike Botts went on and bought the Pearson Ranch in Alamo. There they colonized it, and my father moved there too. What a joy it was. They colonized the little town and made a regular little heaven out of this ranch. They had about 500 people. It was just such a joy because they loved each other. Grandfather had some 60 children born to him in this little town of Alamo. They have grown and are scattered all over the state and plenty of other states. This little town was a comfort, and it was wonderful to live there with our dear parents and grandparents.

I could go on for hours and tell of all the wonderful things that Grandfather Stewart did and the way we all loved him, but I'll close with saying that no girl ever married into a family and had a more wonderful mother-in-law and father-in-law than I did.

  

MEMORIES OF WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

by a Daughter-in-law, Pearl Johnson Stewart

It was on a day in December, 1915 that I first met Carlos Is father, "Tommy" Stewart, as they called him in Kanab from where he had moved his family when Carlos and I were ten. He came down the walk and through the gate to welcome Carlos and his bride--a thin, bent form in a gray flannel shirt and overalls. It was difficult to associate this elderly man with thick wavy, gray hair, heavy gray mustache and lined face with my dim memory of a young, brown-bearded man in a long black coat and derby hat that the missionaries wore in the late 90's,

He greeted us with the gentle warmth and sweet kindly smile that ever inspired confidence in and love for the patriarch of this great family. It was the first time I had been separated from my family where freedom of thought, speech, humor and close-knit companionship prevailed. This uninhibited soul felt strange and lost in the new environment, and I think he knew it and tried to help in my orientation. He would find opportunity to sit down and recall the early days of Kanab and the pioneers there, and he would tell me stories about Uncle Jacob Hamblin, who was his father-in-law. He told humorous incidents about the elder Hamblins, which I had never heard. Always in our conversations he made reference to the wonderful brown Polynesians, his beloved people with whom he had lived as a Missionary for seven years.

The winter was bleak and cold, and I see him now, bringing in thick, short, cotton-wood logs to feed the fire in the large deep boiler-shaped stove. On the top of the stove was a thin sheet of iron that I had dropped and broken on one of those first nervous days. He would, somehow, use his elbow to adjust that broken lid after filling the stove, and I felt he was holding in his wrath. How marvelous he was for not "bawling me out."

He would sit in his swivel chair in the corner beside the stove to read or meditate, oblivious of people around him. All of a sudden he would rise and disappear out the door. With head bent, hands clasped behind him, walk with short, firm steps, down the walk, through the gate, into the street to visit his married sons, his two sisters, a sister-in-law or his many friends composing the town of Alamo, Nevada.

Before long he would return swiftly, take a book from his library shelves, sit at the table and read studiously, often looking up to ponder. The brown Polynesians intrigued him, and most of his books and his favorite topic of conversation were upon that interest. Another favorite book was the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire.

I was an avid listener. Father Stewart had a wide vocabulary, a rare quality of self-expression and description, and a keen insight of human nature. He enjoyed talking about these people and reminiscing. Through his large, finely furnished home were groups of artifacts—mats, weapons, shells, stones—trophies from the Island homes of his beloved people. His ability to make one feel the things he talked about inspired me with the lasting desire to cross the sea to these magic Isles and get acquainted with my brothers and sisters there.

This gift of moving his audience was especially apparent in his magnificent oratory. It was a pleasure to attend Sunday services, for usually he was the speaker. I know he felt his power as he stood there before his sons and daughters to bear his Testimony and teach them the Gospel. As his words flowed out he was preaching to all, yet the erring one felt his personal rebuke, couched in the most gentle, kindly phrases, and she knew what for and exactly from whom his information had come. He would dwell upon the teachings of Brigham Young, regarding laughter, pride, and light -mindedness and the evils of flashy finery and light speeches. One loved him and tried hard to live up to his precepts, as with suave gentleness he ruled his family.

One can see Grandpa among his numerous grandchildren, trotting one or more on his knee, chanting an old-fashioned ditty off-key, or jogging with one on his shoulder, sparing no rebuke or more drastic punishment when necessary. He never hesitated to teach, guide or direct them as occasion arose.

In the winter of 1920 while Grandma was in Panaca with Marion and Mary, who were in High School there, I became Grandpa's housekeeper and cook. I'll admit no one could find fault with my housekeeping, but as a cook I was a failure. Nothing turned out right. I studied the cook book I had edited while taking Domestic Science at the B. Y. U., but the recipes called for ingredients not obtainable in Alamo. He would encourage me with anecdotes of other failures and a story of a diplomat in Europe who eased a dinner situation with "Fried Froth or Philosophy"- -just as you please.

I prayed, cried and tried, and was made very happy by his praise of my whole-wheat bread he enjoyed so much. I became expert at the baking, and all winter we ate whole-wheat bread and whatever turned out edible. I was much relieved when Grandma returned in the spring. Grandpa was also.

I regret that my years with him were so few-about 2 and a half years in all. I always enjoyed our discussions, or rather, listening to his wise deductions and appraisal of his reading and studies. Listening as he indulged in reminiscences was a rich and rewarding experience. He was a well educated man- -self-educated. He loved people and understood human nature.

Carlos told me incidents about his father-of a time they were riding their horses on the range. Father was reading his newspaper, as was his custom, when it rattled as he turned the page, and the horse jumped and threw Grandpa off.

Carlos told me of the time his father was out in the dry wilderness alone. The water holes had dried up, and there was no water for man or beast. He felt he would perish and knelt down to pray under a hot, cloudless sky. As he prayed a cloud came over, and a heavy shower of rain filled pockets and hollows in the terrain, and he was able to quench his thirst and give to the animals and fill his canteen.

I am thankful to have been born of goodly parents and reared in the light of the Gospel and to have had the blessed association with them--and also with Carlos's good parents. With every heartbeat comes gratitude for all this and that my two beloved departed are sharing that glorious privilege now.

 

MEMORIES OF WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART, Sr.

By Grandson, Dan Stewart, 1972

The earliest recollections I have of my grandfather Stewart were in the days of the Model T. Omer Stewart and Andy Richard had the mail contract from Caliente to Alamo. One day Omer came by the garden where granddad was working. He honked the horn and waved to granddad. He jumped over the fence and went for a ride in the Model T Ford.

He was always very thoughtful of his children and grandchildren and very generous. He always had a good orchard and garden. We would go up to separate milk in his cellar, and he would bring out a bucket of apples from the storage cellar and give it to us to take home to the family.

One summer he and Marion were putting up a crop of hay just before the 4th of July. He asked me to help them with the tramping of the hay on the wagon. We finished just in time to celebrate the 4th of July. He gave me a quarter for spending money.

When I was ten years old I made my first trip to Bauldy Mt. (cattle range) with Dad. Dad and Granddad were riding to gather cattle that Dad had sold to Wm. Lamb, Sr. This was my first trip on the range riding with my Granddad.

I remember many times Granddad gave me words of advice, which I have never forgotten. There is one thing that happened that I will never forget. We were camped at the Stewart Well on the West end of Bauldy Mt. Range. We rode to Black Rock out in the south end of Sandspring Valley close to Sundown. Dad was to meet us. We were holding the cattle there waiting for Dad to come. He had ridden off to another part of the range. Pretty soon we saw a horse come running across the valley without a rider. Granddad said, "Your Dad must be in trouble." He took off and left me to watch the cattle. When he came back I had gone to sleep and left my horse grazing out in the sage brush. He cautioned me to never do that again if I didn't want to be left out in the desert afoot. I was to always secure my horse first.

Then one day as we were about to leave camp, he said, "Do you have any matches in your pocket?" I said, "No. " He told me to never leave camp without matches in my pocket to build a fire if I needed to. He asked if I had a coat. He said, "Wise men always carry a coat when the sun shines, any fool will carry one when it rains. I always remembered this because the day was sunny when we left camp, and it rained before we got back. I learned many a good lesson from him in my youth.

The years that followed that, I rode with Dad and Granddad gathering steers to sell. He was the oldest, and I was the youngest. It fell our lot to day-herd all the time. He would get the cattle out grazing. Then he would get his horse tied up to a tree. After this he would take out a magazine, which he always carried, and sit under a cedar tree and read. He always read every time he had a good chance. If any cattle would get straying, he would send me to turn them back.

One day while we were riding the range, some spicy gossip came up that the men got to talking and laughing about. When Granddad and I got together day-herding, he came around where I was and said, "My boy, I want to tell you something. You heard what the men were talking about. Gossiping and telling tales is like a pile of horse manure. The more you stir it the more it stinks. Just leave it alone."

He taught me honesty by example. On one trip gathering cattle there was a 2-year-old, long eared bull that showed up in the bunch. We were about to put the VT brand on it when Granddad came along. He said, "No, don't put your brand on that bull, it doesn't belong to us. I saw that animal as a little calf, and it was sucking a Flying V cow and belongs to the Wadsworth Brothers." So because of his recollection we put Wadsworth's brand on the bull.

Another trip I remember was when Granddad was 73 years old. He was riding Joe Steele's saddle horse, a buckskin he called Old Buck. He was wearing a pair of bright red-hair shaps. As usual he was sitting outside the corral fence reading his magazine. A bunch of us were branding calves. I was about 12 at the time. At 73 years he could ride with the rest of us and proved it at this time. A calf got out of the corral and took off down the ridge. He looked up and saw it leaving. He poked his magazine in his hind pocket, took down his rope, built a loop, and Old Buck and Granddad went down the ridge with him swinging his rope lover and under I putting 01' Buck into high gear. He caught the calf with the first loop and dragged him back to the corral. As he came up to the gate, Roy Cram came out to take the rope off the calf. Granddad said, "That's the way to do it, my boy." This was the last trip he rode the range with us. He had no fear of riding hard and fast, although we were afraid he would get hurt.

One day one of my older cousins and I were pitching horse shoes. Granddad came along and stood watching for awhile. He finally got disgusted as my older cousin wasn't putting in enough effort, and his horse shoes were always falling short of the peg. Speaking to my cousin Granddad said, "Look, my boy, don't ever let me see you throw another shoe short of the peg. It's alright if you throw them over, but never under." This was his philosophy. He always took time to counsel his grandsons.

One day, when I was about 2 years old, my Granddad put his arms around me and kissed me. From then on I knew he loved me. I remember him to be a man of his word, kind and gentle, who always set a good example. He spoke well of his fellow men, was slow to anger, and always demonstrated great self-control. To me he was a soft spoken gentleman. I never knew Granddad to compromise principle. He had an art about that. He never engaged in heated argument and seldom, if ever offended anyone. His home was always a place of hospitality, where I always felt welcome and enjoyed going there often.

  

MY GRANDFATHER- -WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

By Jetsam Stewart Wilcox, Granddaughter

We lived on the lot next to my grandparents, so I remember my grandfather very well from thetime I was about four years old. The lots were each one-fourth of an acre, and we each hadalarge garden between our houses. There was a well-beaten path from one house to the otherwith a gate between. I can still see my grandfather coming down that path with his hands clasped behind his back, deep in thought on the problems of the day or some subject that happened to occupy his mind at the time. We often had to call to him several times to get his attention since he was always so completely absorbed in his own thoughts and plans.

He was a very kind and patient man. I can never remember him scolding or reprimanding any of us children in a harsh manner. He would often come along when we were arguing or quarreling. He would just stand by quietly for a minute or two, with his hands still clasped behind his back, and then he would quote a proverb or a verse of scripture that would quiet us and make us feel more ashamed than a scolding would have done.

We were pioneering in Pahranagat Valley in those days, and I well remember how anxious he was to try all kinds of crops to learn just what would grow and do well there. We had all the common varieties of fruit trees and raised all kinds of vegetables and melons. He also had strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries on his lot. We also raised our own popcorn and even sugar cane. He also grew Indian corn and gourds. In fact, most anything you can think of he tried at one time or another. The melons we grew there were the largest and sweetest I have ever seen.

My grandfather was a very educated man even though he was "self -educated"- -having had very little formal schooling. He read constantly and was well informed on all subjects. He studied law until he was able to serve as District Attorney of Kane County, Utah before moving to Pahranagat Valley. He also learned to survey and helped to lay out the town of Alamo. He didn't always use the proper pronunciation of all words, but he did know and use good grammar.

He had a very fine library in his home and really treasured his books. When he made his infrequent trips to Salt Lake City he spent most of his spare time in book stores and spent his money for books rather than using it for entertainment or any unnecessary purchases of clothing or presents to bring home. He had volumes of history books and many on all types of religions and philosophies of all races, as well as many books on astronomy and the oceans, etc. They were all used and well read. As he grew older, much of his time was spent reading and studying.

When I was a small child we only had one mail delivery each week. How well I remember how anxious Grandfather was for the newspaper and how he devoured it from the first to the last page. Then he would bring it to my father, and later they would discuss it from one end to the other. I learned a great deal about current events by listening to them, including politics, foreign policy, and also the leading sports events. I listened to many stories about Grover Cleveland, Teddy Roosevelt, William Jennings Bryan and Woodrow Wilson as well as Jess Willard and Jack Dempsey. I developed a real interest in current events, and to this day I just don't feel right until I have read the newspaper each day.

Grandfather was the "authority" in the valley on most any subject, and people came to him constantly for advice and counsel. He served as justice of the peace for many years and was the mediator for most of the disputes that arose in the valley. He was affectionately known as "Uncle Tommy" by everyone.

At the time of his death I remember making the statement that I had never heard him speak an unkind word about anyone. I remember him telling us, so many times, that it was better to have the good will than the ill will of even a yellow dog. He was a man who was truly loved and respected by all who knew him.

 

MY MEMORIES OF WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

by Arlene Stewart Potter, Granddaughter

I didn't see much of my grandfather Stewart because we moved to Las Vegas at an early age. When we went to Alamo, we traveled by Model T Ford over poor roads. So we didn't make many trips, and I don't remember him ever coming to visit us.

I lived in Alamo until 1925. As I recall, he was a very quiet, studious, religious, and a very even-tempered man. I don't remember him ever raising his voice. I can see him a tall, slender man walking down the street, arms clasped behind his back, head bent, walking at a slow pace, deep in meditation. I can remember going into his library. The walls completely lined with books, and Grandfather sitting in his chair. I asked him if he had read all those books. When he said he had, I was overwhelmed because he had more books than I had ever seen.

When we were small, Grandfather had an old black horse named "Diggy". He let each family use him for a week. He was so gentle that as many as four or five could ride him at a time. He was the only horse I have ever been on that I had no fear to ride. If we argued or quarreled about turns, then Grandfather would take him back.

I remember him telling us many stories about his missions in New Zealand and how he loved the Maori people. We were always fascinated with the parlor that was denoted with his souvenirs, and the family organ we used to play.

My last remembrance was the summer of 1935. I was now married and living in Mesquite, Nevada and Aunt Mary and Uncle Lorraine came through taking Grandfather to St. George to see the doctor. The doctor's report was that he had cancer, and that he had never seen anyone that complained of less pain. The next time was when we attended his funeral.

I am very proud to be a descendant of Grandfather. His testimony, his love of learning, his kindness and his ability to endure to the end have challenged me to be worthy of such a fine man and heritage.

 

MEMORIES OF GRANDFATHER STEWART

By Irene Stewart Woodward, Granddaughter

 I was fortunate to be one of the first of the grandchildren, so I knew Grandfather when he was a fairly young man. Our relationship, considering the large number of grandchildren he had, was a warm and intimate one. He always made me feel that I was a very special child and that he had great love and respect for me. I suppose this was one of his rare gifts, which was extended to include each grandchild.

One of my earliest recollections of our association was pretending to be riding a horse by riding on his foot. While he held my hands, and with his knees crossed, he jogged me up and down. As I outgrew this delightful experience the next child in the family was ready to have Grandpa play horse with him. I've often thought how kindly and fun-loving he was to make the rounds of his eight children's homes playing horse with the prolific number of grandchildren.

As we grew older he provided us with a real live horse. As I remember him he was a swaybacked black horse named "Diggie." I do believe he was the most gentle animal I've ever known, for we small children would pile on him, as many as five at a time, and he would plod cheerfully around the pasture, never seeming to tire. What joy this brought us.

Grandfather was a very handsome man. He had dignity of bearing and was always well-groomed. He had heavy gray hair with a matching mustache. The mustache bothered me, and I would try to avoid his kisses for the hair tickled my face.

I attribute many of my adult interests, which have enriched my life, to the influence of grandfather during the formative years of my childhood. He was the one link I had with the outside world in those early years in Alamo, and I remember how enchanted I was with the artifacts he brought back with him from New Zealand where he had taught the Gospel to the Maori people. I could sit by the hour and listen to his stories about the life and customs of these aboriginal people.

During the early teen years, when I became absorbed with the currently popular novels by Jane Gray, Grandfather would encourage me to read the classics he had in his library. That was noteworthy for a man living in an isolated village like Alamo.

Grandfather had little formal education, but he was self-educated and could discuss world events, history, literature or most any subject with a background of knowledge. This prompted my husband, Ross, to remark upon meeting Grandfather that finding him in a rural area was like finding a rare pearl in the sands of the desert.

Grandfather loved the Gospel with all his being. His love was founded upon true knowledge which came from a lifetime of devoted service in the Church, and in studying the scriptures. I cherish the hours I sat at his knee as he expounded upon the Gospel with great understanding and inspiration. I feel I owe the beginning of my testimony to him, for even though I was young, I absorbed much of what he said.

I was privileged to be close to Grandfather, spending many hours with him during my teen years. When I was twenty-two years old, I approached Grandfather and introduced my future husband, Ross Woodward, to him. Since Ross was not a member of the Church I expected a firm rebuke. Much to my surprise, after a visit with Ross, Grandfather told me that he felt Ross was a very choice spirit, and he gave me his blessing to marry him.

After our wedding Grandfather put an arm around each of us, and in his wisdom said that one bit of advice he would offer us was to never let the sun set on a quarrel between us.

I am grateful for the rich heritage Grandfather and his beloved wife Mary Ann Udall has given me. Their memory has been a very real influence in my life to live righteously that I and my loved ones might be reunited with them in the hereafter.

  

MEMORIES OF GRANDPA STEWART

By Margery's daughter, Edna Steele Frehner, granddaughter

 Every time I think of Grandpa Stewart it brings back fond memories. To me he was one of the kindest men I've ever known. He always had time for us as children.

Grandpa was also a really intelligent man, and he had the wisdom to go with it. We lived with Grandpa and Grandma for several years. I can remember what a challenge algebra was when I was taking it. Grandpa worked his out in arithmetic, and if I could come up with the same answer as he got, I knew I was right. I nearly always had an "A" in math, and I know it was because of his help that I always liked it.

One little incident I always think of was once when he had lost his upper dental plate and had gone without it for some time. Some of us children found them in the chicken coop where they had dropped out of his pocket. He was so happy to get them back that he put them in his mouth before he thought, but then he started spitting and washed them.

We as his grandchildren feel that we have a rich heritage because of him.

  

GRANDPA STEWART

By Pearl Stewart Tolman, Daughter of Raymond Stewart

Granddaughter of William T. Stewart, Sr.

 The following are a few thoughts that I remember about Grandpa Stewart.

I remember what beautiful, white, wavy hair Grandpa had and how he loved for his grandchildren to comb his hair. He would give us a penny for each black hair we could find and pull out. We always thought this was so funny for our own Dad was paying us a penny for each gray hair we could find and pull out of his head.

I always thought that Grandpa was very handsome. I remember the cellar full of apples and how we loved to go over to get some of them to eat.

We used to take our milk to Grandpa's to run it through the separator, and he always helped us with that.

I also remember the huge patch of tomatoes he grew and how Edna, Josephine, Michie and I used to hide out in it and eat tomatoes.

When I was living in California, in about 1940 I knew a man who had been to New Zealand on a mission. He said Grandpa's picture was hanging on a wall in the mission home there. He said that the natives still talked about him. They called him Thom-a-tee Tew-at. He was greatly loved by these people.

 

MEMORIES OF UNCLE TOMMY

By a nephew, Clair Stewart

I knew Uncle Tommy all of my life time. He lived in Kanab when we used to live there, and I knew him as a boy and then when we moved to Alamo. Uncle Tommy and his family bought the old Pierson Ranch along with my boss, and there were several families that moved out at the same time.

Uncle Tommy and Aunt Mary came in the second group, but Ray and one or two of the others came out when we came. I was pretty close to him, and when we grew older, I had many, many conversations with him. He was politically inclined, and I was just a little that way myself. Many, many times we would meet and discuss certain individuals and government and have quite a discussion, especially over one man--Huey Long. He was a Senator at that time, and Uncle Tommy was very much concerned about his behavior.

Years later, after I got married and had a family, we moved back to Alamo from Los Angeles. I used to meet Uncle Tommy, and sometimes he would come down to my home. He’d sit there outside or inside the house, and he’d talk for hours at a time about state political affairs and Church affairs and many other local things. I remember on one occasion I was on my way home and met Uncle Tommy at the Wadsworth Store there in Alamo. We sat on the porch and about 1o'clock that night we finished our conversation. We went home, and Uncle Tommy remembered something the next day that had come to his mind the night before, so he came down and we started the conversation over again. Then after he would have his conversation, he'd put his hands behind his back and head for home. That was one habit that I remember he had. He would just put his hands behind his back and go along.

I remember one time many years ago, when there were a few families in Alamo. Uncle Tommy and his family lived on the east side of town, and we lived over on the opposite side in a big tent. There was a grove between the two places called Cottonwood Grove, and the trail went through there. We would make our way from one place to the other, and this particular time I saw Uncle Tommy coming over to a garden with a hoe on his back. I got down behind some bush there, and when he had approached me, I jumped out and "booed" at him. He took to me with the hoe, and I thought he was going to hit me with it. He scared me worse than I did him. He really did take to me.

I had many happy experiences with Uncle Tommy in conversation about individuals in the state, in the county and the people in the valley. We talked about the things they were going to do; the way of building the high school; the opposition that we were getting from the people up in the valley. I tried hard to always have something on my mind when I would meet with Uncle Tommy. I knew we were in for a conversation.

There was never an unpleasant moment with Uncle Tommy. One time Burnell, my brother, and I were headed for Los Angeles, and I asked Uncle Tommy if he wanted to go down and visit with my father, Alonzo, and see the folks down there. He accepted the invitation and went down to Los Angeles with us. Whenever we'd meet a car on the road, and there weren't many of them, Burnell would holler "Hello, Joel' or "Hello, Sam" or whoever it would happen to be. Sometimes I did the shouting. When we got down to Los Angeles, Uncle Tommy said he didn't know Burnell knew so many people. We really didn't know any of them, you see.

I was away from Alamo for 25 years before he passed away, but up until that time I listened to many of his stories of when he was on a Mission. I listened to many of the stories he used to relate to me of when he was in Kanab when he was a young person. I recall him saying that he would never have known that Aunt Macy wasn't his real Mother if he hadn't been old enough to have known his own Mother when she died. The children of Margery's were treated as if they were Aunt Macy's own children.

I had a great deal of respect for Uncle Tomrny.

 

 

MEMORIES OF WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

By Theresa Stewart Wadsworth, a niece

Uncle Tommy- -those two words take me back many years. I didn't have a father of my own, but a beloved cousin, by the name of Mary, would always say, "Well, never mind, Theresa. You can have half of my father." So I was contented to have half of Uncle Tommy for my Father. I was always very proud of him and loved him very much.

I have many fond memories of him. I can see him coming up the street to our house, with his hands behind him. He came to visit us almost every morning or evening. We loved his stories and jig dances. He would have the kids perform for him, then he would perform for them.

I loved him for the love he had for my youngest brother, David. David adored Uncle Tommy.

Uncle Tommy was a great reader. I don't ever remember of going to his home when he didn't have a good book or a newspaper in his hand reading. He always had time to read to Mary and me. We thought we didn't have time to listen. I have often wished we had had more time. He was a great teacher.

I loved to go to Church to hear him talk. No one ever gave better sermons than he did. One especially, on the Creation, I have always remembered. How wonderful I thought he was to know so much.

Uncle Tommy was a great gardener. He could raise better melons than anyone, and he gave freely of them.

He was a very good looking man. His thick, wavy hair, his good nature, and the way he presented himself made him a very distinguished man. Everyone that knew him honored and respected him.

Uncle Tommy--my favorite Uncle.

 

 

MEMORIES OF WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

By a Nephew, Vivian H. Stewart

 When I think of Uncle Tommy, my first thoughts of him are as an orator. Even as a young boy I remember enjoying his sermons, and they were long ones. I remember some of his subjects. One in particular was on the resurrection.

I remember in the early days of Alamo, the politicians would come and hold rallys. I was always so proud of Uncle Tommy when he stood up to talk; to me he always looked so distinguished with his mustache and manner of dignity.

I remember talking with him concerning prayer. One thing he told me was that it was all right when you were out on the range or with nonbelievers in a camp, such as a road camp, to say a silent prayer after getting in your bed.

In the summer I would often go to Dutch Flats, north of Caliente. One summer Uncle Tommy came over on business with a choice team of horses and a white top buggy. He drove home to Alamo in one day, so I had something to brag about for a long time. It was a great ride for those days.

In the latter days of his life he would hunt Karl or myself to talk to. He had become hard to hearing, and he said that there was something about our voices that he could hear much better than anyone else, so we both had many long visits with him. He was always so well informed. I remember him telling us that President Woodrow Wilson some day in the future would be known as one of our greatest presidents.

One of the choice experiences I had with him was when Ethel Higbee Stewart was sick. He came to our house and asked me to go with him to administer to her. He thought we could exercise the proper kind of faith if we went alone. His sealing was wonderful. He was humble and was willing to comply with the wishes of the Lord. He was a great uncle, and an example that anyone could follow and live a life of worthiness.

 

WILLIAM THOMAS STEWART

by J. Alfred Hansen, friend

 One of the most fortunate and far-reaching friendships I ever made had its beginning in October of 1916, when my father moved with his family to Pahranagat Valley and settled in Hiko. None of the people who lived in Hiko at that time were members of the L. D. S. Church. However, it was through them my acquaintance with William Thomas Stewart, Sr., who lived in Alamo began. He and his wife were known as Uncle Tommy and Aunt Mary Stewart in the valley by Church members and non-members alike. Aunt Mary had been trained as a nurse, and there being no doctor in the valley, she gave of service unstintedly to all who were wick and sought help, while Uncle Tommy administered to all those who desired and requested blessings from the Lord.

In April of 1918 I was employed on the Lower Gardner Ranch, nine miles below Alamo. The first Sunday I was not required to work, I rode a horse bareback to Alamo to attend Sacrament meeting and became personally acquainted with William Thomas Stewart, Sr., and his son, William Thomas Stewart, Jr., who was the Bishop of the Alamo Ward. In the following two and one-half years, whenever the opportunity presented itself, I made it a point to attend Sacrament meeting, and most always W. T. Stewart, Sr., or W. T. Stewart, Jr. would be one of the speakers. As I would listen to them presenting the truths of the Gospel in their simplicity and beauty, I could feel the strength of the Spirit of the Lord which was present in the meeting. It gave me a feeling of assurance within that the Gospel of Jesus Christ, as taught by the Church, was to be found a way of life, more desirable than the one I found among those with whom I worked during the week. From their daily conversation, I took it their only aim in life seemed to be "to eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die. "They expressed no desire to take a part in the Church and criticized and spoke with contempt of and looked down on those who did desire to take part. So I fasted and prayed and told the Lord I wanted to go on a mission. I saved my wages and continued to pray for a mission for almost two years. In May 1920, two months after my 19th birthday, I received a call to fill a mission for the Church in the Central States Mission.

In a Priesthood meeting, held the first Sunday in July, which was attended by only six Priesthood members, I was ordained an Elder in the Church, my father being mouth. I was not aware then that in His Sermon on the Mount the Savior had promised, "Where a few have met in my name, I will be in their midst," but I witnessed the fulfillment of that promise that day, making it a red letter day in my life. More than that, not only was I ordained an Elder in the Church of Jesus Christ, but I also found my Savior, thanks to Uncle Tommy Stewart's presence in that Priesthood meeting. After the ordination, Uncle Tommy stood up and said, "I feel constrained by the Spirit of the Lord to give brother Hansen (my father) a blessing," and he proceeded to do so. As he blessed my father, prompted by the "Spirit of Truth" (John 14:17) I felt, and came to know, the "Spirit of Truth" and "my heart burned within me" like the disciples on the road to Emmaus. From the "Spirit of Truth" present in such rich abundance, the Savior became real to me that day and has continued real to me in my life to this day, which will be fifty years this coming July 4th. In all that time, I can say in all sincerity that I have never attended a Sacrament meeting, a Priesthood meeting, nor filled a Priesthood assignment, nor performed any service to my fellow man, in the name of Jesus Christ, but what I have felt the "Spirit of Truth" present to strengthen me.

With all my heart I thank my Father in Heaven for guiding my father --when my father had fasted and prayed, with his family, asking the Lord where to go --to move to Pahranagat Valley, for here I built my home.

The passing of time has confirmed my feeling that William Thomas Stewart, Sr. came as close as one may come to attaining immortality in this mortal life. Also, I feel that he achieved everlasting life here, and hereafter, in that he left behind a vital part of himself in his posterity and in those who chose to see the light of his life and follow it. The scripture states, "Let your light so shine, that men may see your good works.... " It and the light that shone in Uncle Tommy's life was like a beacon, gleaming in the darkness of this disillusioned world. It came from the spirit of a kindly, honest, clean, decent and humble man, who guided by the "Spirit of Truth" in the way of life everlasting, stood for the things which are right, by which he also lived and died. I am very grateful for seeing the truths in the light of his life, for they have brought inspiration, understanding, peace and joy into my life these many years. The older I get to be, the more sure I am that, as someone else has put it "The only Heaven we will ever know, will be the one we take with us." The extent of their Heaven will be determined by the amount of error we have overcome while in the world, by choosing to be "not of the world" but to "walk by faith," sustained by the "Spirit of Truth," while seeking to find "the truth that will make us free from the sins of this world. The Savior taught, "My kingdom is not of this world," and I accepted that as the truth long ago. I have endeavored to follow him throughout my life; and my life has been, and still is, sweet to me, this lst day of June, 1970.