The Autobiography of Martha Timothy Gardner Rudy, Part 4

In February 1890, my husband went on the mountain to work in the Dyer Mine, and was brought home dead from heart trouble. He intended to be gone seventeen days, but on the fifteenth day when I awoke in the morning, a voice said to me, “Alma will be home today, prepare for him.” I told my son, John, that his daddy would be home today, and he asked how I knew, but I didn’t tell him. I felt very depressed and tried to understand why, but just had to finish my ironing. We were out of flour, and I had to make hot cakes, but I felt assured Al would be home that day to get more flour. We were very poor, and Alice was sent home from school for not having shoes and a book. I thought over the many things that had happened since he had gone. The children had had the croup, and neighbors and come in and helped me with them two nights; it seemed they would choke to death.

Two or three days before Al was brought home, I dreamed that I had to go on a long journey with the children before he would come back. It seemed awfully dark and dreary; we had to cross a levy so narrow, I had to carry the children over one by one. On the other side, the water ran everywhere through the grass, the children’s shoes were so badly worn that the water ran right through them. In crossing the levy, the children were so delighted with the silvery, green, and golden pebbles that could be seen at the bottom of the unusually clear water of the lake formed by the levy. I hurried to an old worn fence in a dry corner, took off their shoes, fearing they would have the croup, and to my surprise, dust fell out of them instead of water. The sun had come out and made everything brighter than I had ever seen it before, and I was filled with joy. I had never been so happy; everything seemed all right.

Al died of heart failure at the mine, and Cal Duke and Bill Haws brought him down on snow shoes. I learned later on that the whole community knew about it, but it was left to my good old friend and midwife, Aunt Abbey Oaks, to break the news to me.

I can never forget how tenderly she conveyed the sad news. She and her husband, Martin, who had joined her by now. Then, as if by magic, the whole community gathered around, expressing their heartfelt sympathies. Presently, the white top pulled up with the body—you can imagine how utterly helpless I felt when I saw his frozen body. I screamed and cried, “Oh God, what will I do now, what will I do when the children get the croup?” It was then that a voice, the same I heard before, said, “Martha, be comforted, I promise you will never have a child with croup again.” I never worried about it again.

About three weeks after the burial, Mrs. William Ashton and daughter, Mrs. Sam Brownie, came and tried to persuade me to let each of them adopt a little girl. Alice and Rhoda were chosen, flattering promises were made for their future. I was stunned by the proposal, and I cried, “It is enough that I had to part with my husband, I can never part with any of the children!” I have not words to express the kindness and helpfulness and sweetness of the people in my distress.

To help support my family, dear old Grandma Mack gave me a new loom for carpet weaving and taught me how to weave. Lyeurgens Johnson had a neighborhood store, and whenever I went for anything myself, he or his clerks never failed to give good measure and something besides for the children. It was the same when I went to Vernal. I was embarrassed by the things that were given to me; the neighbors came in with their teams, ploughed the ground and planted seventeen acres of wheat, from which we had a bumper crop, which was cut, shocked, and all thrashed gratis. One day, when the weather grew cold, a string of teams seemingly miles long brought us dry cedar wood, which lasted for two years. Their wives (Relief Society women) came about the same time, each brought pots and kettles of food. After feeding all the men, there was enough food left for my family the remainder of the week.

(Click to continue to Part 5.)