RANSOM - BURTON Genealogy Journal, Vol.1, No.1. January 1991.
(c) 1991-2006, Lynn Ransom Burton, Editor
130 North 100 West Brigham City, Utah 84302
lburton@infowest.com
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Our Trip to the East Coast, by Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton
(1886-1969)
It was a very beautiful afternoon on April 13, 1951. The
lovely sunshine and clear, sweet, fresh air seemed to be
very enticing and inviting to the residents of the
neighborhood where I live in Logan, Utah, for as I glanced up
and down the street, I could see several of the ladies had
abandoned (as I had done) their household duties and had
resorted to their lawns to invigorate themselves with the many
gifts that this lovely day had to offer them, and were
engaged in calling greetings to their next-door neighbors,
commenting on the nice warm atmosphere that we were bent on
enjoying after a seemingly hard winter during which we
had been confined to the indoors of our homes, as it seemed.
I, too, was out on my front lawn talking to a neighbor
(who, in passing, had stopped to chat for a few moments) when
the telephone rang and excusing myself I hurriedly ran into
the house, picked up the receiver and said very calmly,
"Hello, there." And the sweet, familiar voice on the other
end of the line I recognized as being that of my daughter,
Agnes, calling from Salt Lake City.
She said, "Mother, how would you like to go on a trip
with us?" She continued, "James and I have never had a
honeymoon and we have decided to have one now and would like
you to go with us if you will." "Where will we go?" I asked.
She answered, "We are going to the Eastern states." I could
hardly believe my ears, and thrilling with joy, I answered:
"Why, yes, I would love to go with you!" "Get your suitcase
ready and be here by tomorrow night," she said, "so we can
get a good early start on Sunday morning, April 15th."
We said goodbye and hung up. I was so surprised, I could
hardly move for a time, then I began to get my things together.
Next morning, Clive, Venna, and girls (Clive Francis Waters,
his wife Venna Burton Waters, and their daughters Evelyn,
Carolyn, and baby Jolene) came to see me. They lived in
Brigham City, and they said they would take me to Salt Lake
City, if I wished. I went to my daughter Ila's home in Elwood
and borrowed from her and her husband, Sam Mortensen, the
money I would need to finance my share of the expenses. Thanks
a million to them for their kindness to loan it to me. Then
we went on to Salt Lake City and arrived at Agnes' home in the
early evening. I want to thank Clive and Venna, too, for
taking me to Salt Lake City. It was indeed a very generous
act of kindness on their part, also, to take time out from
their work to do so.
Well, I was very tired upon my arrival in Salt Lake City.
I had been so thrilled and excited the night before, packing
my suitcases, getting my good neighbor, Sister Ruth Gibbons,
to look after my mail, and doing all the last minute errands,
that I didn't sleep very well that night. I still felt very
cautious about taking such a long trip in the spring of the
year, when there are usually so many bad storms and floods.
Really, I was so conscious of all these things that even at
that late hour, I could very easily have decided to call off
the trip, for again Saturday night I did not sleep well. There
were so many possibilities of things that could happen in so
many ways.
First, there was Agnes' family. Four of the smaller ones
(Agnes Elaine Roholt, Donald Burton Roholt, Carol Ann Roholt,
and Reed Burton Roholt) were to remain at home (and sweet
little Carol, who had been sick so much, but was able to be
up and around now, was on our minds continuously). So, by
Sunday morning early when we arose to begin our journey, I said
to James, "Now, are you sure you want to go? For it is perfectly
okay with me to call it off if you want to, and we will
remain at home." I was not sure it was best to go. It seemed
such a big undertaking to me. My traveling distance had been
so limited that in all my sixty-four years, I had never been
out of the states of Utah and Idaho. Such a vast expanse of
land that the map revealed between Utah and New York City,
I dared not even try to contemplate.
James had made up his mind, however, and we lost no time
in preparing to leave. Every precaution had been taken by
James and Agnes for the care of their home and family while
they would be away from home. They had arranged for someone to
live at their house so as to be there to heed the wants and
needs of the family. Everything had been given due consideration
in every detail, it seemed, so as to relieve our minds in a
great measure, for the care of the children and home until our
return. James and Garth packed some quilts and blankets into
the car (just in case), then our suitcases, which were bulging
with clothing and other necessities that we thought we would
need. We ate a rather hurried breakfast. Agnes gave some last
minute instructions, and with a prayer in our hearts we kissed
the children goodbye and climbed into the car that had been
cleaned, shined, and polished, and checked out in every detail
for our safety.
The car seemed to sense the fact that we depended on it so
completely, for when James stepped on the starter at 6:45 A.M.,
it seemed to have the energy of a high-spirited quadruped that
was awaiting the signal to exhibit some of its master-power
enthusiasm as we rolled out of the driveway and onto the street.
One last look at the house proved to be a picture that
will always remain in our minds, for it was a beautiful sight
with a background of tall trees just beginning to burst forth
in tiny green leaves, and a blue smoke lazily and slowly
curling from the chimney and vanishing into thin air. But soon
the scene disappeared from sight as we turned the street
corner and headed east up Parley's Canyon. We were on our way.
The canyon, too, was beautiful. Springtime was truly manifest
in every place we looked and the rippling streams of water
assured us that "Old Sol" was doing his work: melting the huge
snowdrifts that still crowned the mountain tops, even if he
did seem rather coy so early in the morning as he played
peek-a-boo with us as we darted from behind one hill or grove
of trees only to find ourselves almost hidden in a mass of
trees and rocky cliffs with only a short view of the highway
that we were to follow visible in short lengths ahead.
Of course we were all alert and quick to observe all of
our surroundings at all times, for we were determined to get
the most out of this trip in observing the changing scenes.
We seemed at times to wish for two sets of eyes so we could
behold both sides of the landscape at one time, and for longer
spaces of time.
We had several purposes for choosing this trip to the
Eastern states, however, besides being a delayed honeymoon
trip for Agnes and James. We had a son and brother, his wife
and family (Lorin Ransom Burton, Viola Barbara Conner Burton),
who lived at Canton, Ohio, whom we had not seen for the space
of four and one-half years. They had moved from Utah on
September 4, 1947, with their two children, Lorin Eugene,
age 3 and one-half, and Val, age 8 months. Lorin, my son and
Agnes' brother, had previously served three years in the
Armed Services, being over in Australia and the Philippine
Islands for two full years. He had married a girl from Illinois
before going overseas, and perhaps that is the cause of his
moving Eastward, to be near her people. However, after they
had been gone, and while they were still living in Illinois,
the dreadful disease of polio had struck their home, and on
November 5, 1947, took the life of their oldest boy, which
had rendered them and all of us very heartbroken.
The weather at the time of Lorin Eugene Burton's passing
was very cold and miserable. Roads were blocked with great
drifts of snow, and it was impossible to make the trip back
to Illinois in time for the funeral, for they had to bury him
the next day after his death. So we had prolonged the time
when we would make them a visit, and we were very anxious to
visit them and assure them of our love and affection and extend
to them our heartfelt sympathies in person, and also to make
acquaintance with the two younger children that had been born
to them in the meantime, and whom we were anxious to see.
We also had a son and brother, Lynn (Lynn Ransom Burton),
who had been called into the Service in September 1950, and who
had met with a terrible accident while training in the
Chemical Corps. His left leg had been badly broken, the
ligaments torn and twisted until it was incurable to ever be a
good, healthy leg again. And after being in the hospital at
Aberdeen Proving Grounds, Maryland, since January 16, 1951, he
had been sent to the Valley Forge Hospital near Phoenixville,
Pennsylvania. There, he had undergone a severe operation on his
leg and was at the present time still confined to his bed.
And last, but not least, we wanted so much to visit Ray
and Betty Rawson (Arnold Ray Rawson and his wife, Betty Louise
Pierce Rawson) and their little girl, LaRae. Ray was also in
the Service of our country, stationed at Cheyenne, Wyoming,
where he attended school and also became an instructor. He had
moved his little family to that place so he could be with them.
Betty, my grand-daughter, had previously lived with me and Lynn
for three years while attending college at Utah State in Logan,
and we had come to regard her as being almost one of our own
family instead of a grandchild and niece.
Well, now I'll go on with our journey. As I said, we went
east, up through Parley's Canyon, and enjoyed the nice canyon
air, the sunshine, and the scenery in every direction. We were
conscious of the fact that the Mormon pioneers had traveled
somewhat near this same route many years ago as they came to
Utah from the East, and that my own dear Grandmother had walked
almost all the way from Nauvoo, Illinois, when she was a
little girl. Her name, then, was Agnes McIntire (McIntier).
Her mother, my great-grandmother, had taken ill at Laramie,
Wyoming, with mountain fever, while making the trip, and had
died and was buried a little east of Cache Cave, at Echo, Utah.
So we realized that although the roads had been changed and
improved to a great extent, still the lay of the hills and
country in general were the same. The same sun that shone upon
them was shining upon us. The breezes that blew across their
brows were like those that were brushing our faces, and the
atmosphere seemed to have a great connection with the same
conditions as pertaining to the circulation of air and
temperature of the season, as they had encountered. And we
seemed to sense very keenly their feelings as we, too, breathed
that fine fresh air.
All the way our eyes were very observing, as if trying to
locate some landmark--some trace of our pioneers' journey, and
often I found myself peering and gazing with great sensitivity
into the bushes and shrubbery that grew along the roadside,
in search of a mark of a little grave, remembering that many
children as well as older people had been hurriedly buried in
frozen ground and shallow graves when their lives were lost on
their way to Utah.
With this in mind, and determined to keep them in our
thoughts, our eyes were more alert for anything and everything
that was in viewing distance from the highway. The large rocks
at Castle were truly interesting, and each one as we approached
gave evidence of a Master handiwork much beyond anything that
could be created by anyone but our great Creator.
As we crossed the Wyoming line, we noted that even in
short distances there is much difference in the personalities
of states, and their differing characteristics. We noted with
great interest, however, the various sand hills with their
sharp edges and tops as level as tables, the lack of
vegetation, and the curious shapes the sand had formed in
consequence of rough winds and stormy weather. Barren lands,
I should say, were visible on every side. The antelope grazing
on the hillside seemed only to have dirt or at best the
scantiest kind of subsistence with which to content themselves,
but they were far from starvation.
We arrived at Rawlins, Wyoming, about 12:10 P.M., and we
felt like we had truly had a long ride. We were plenty tired
and ready for a good dinner. And we had one. We had written
the names of all the places along the highway in our journal
and had taken special interest in each place. Some of the
place names we had heard about and read much about in the
history of our pioneers, and one of those names was Fort
Bridger. Little America, the Green River, and Rock Springs
were now in the background. At Evanston we had taken Highway
30, and that was the one we intended to follow all the way
across the continent. Now we were at Rawlins and enjoying a
very nice dinner along with lovely music that a man was playing
on an electronic organ. The music seemed to soothe and calm
our minds, and we seemed so much rested and refreshed to resume
our travels.Let me say here that the price of eating in a cafe
in Wyoming was much higher than we had been used to paying in
Utah. And no wonder, for everything had to be shipped in. The
part of the state that we had seen did not look the least bit
productive. We hoped that we would find the states farther east
more interesting in this respect.
We resumed our journey, and hardly before we realized the
fact, the Platte River came to our view--another name we had
heard so many times while listening to stories told to us by
our grandparents. Other familiar names as well as places
seemed rapidly to come to our minds as we approached and noted
with interest each one along the highway: Medicine Bow, Rock
River; and then we were at Laramie. We stopped at Laramie, had
our car checked, the oil changed, and various other adjustments
made to the car. Then we began to climb hill after hill. Knolls
of "scrunty" cedars and snow. It began to get colder and
colder, and when we finally reached Cheyenne, we were really
ready for a rest, another meal, and relaxation.
We found Ray and Betty's place without much delay. It was
now 4:50 P.M. and the sun was about to go down. James thought
we would just make a short visit with them and then travel on
for a while that evening, but I was so tired that once I got
inside the house and sat down, I just couldn't move or make up
my mind to go on. I said, "Why don't we spread down our quilts
and stay here for the night?" Betty and Ray made us very
welcome and gave us good beds and we did not have to spread out
our quilts. We ate a nice supper, then retired for the night
after thanking our Heavenly Father for all his blessings and the
safe landing we had that day. I soon fell asleep and rested well
until morning. Thus ended the 15th day of April, 1951.
April 16. We arose quite early and prepared to leave. Betty
asked us to have breakfast first, but we decided we would first
ride for a while in the extremely cold air, or so it seemed to
us, and perhaps thereby develop an appetite. And we did. We bid
Betty, Ray, and baby LaRae farewell and resumed our way. But
first we had a look at Fort Warren from a short distance. Fort
Warren is where Ray was on duty, and it was also the place
where Lorin had taken his basic training, so it was really a
place of interest to us.
The sun was just coming up over the horizon and had caught
the dome of the State Capitol building in its bright rays, and
it truly was beautiful as it stood shining out over the city
of Cheyenne, glistening proudly in the sunlight.
We traveled far into Nebraska before we decided to buy some
food and eat our breakfast in the car as we traveled on. We
found that Nebraska had large fields of corn stubble from last
year's crop. We could see that the fields had been very
productive, but at present we saw little life, anyplace.
Everyone seemed to be inside their homes. Even their livestock
must have been in barns, for we saw little life of any kind.
The highway was almost free of traffic, and all was still.
Much different than our home state of Utah. Everything was to
our opinion much later in the season than in our home state,
and the air was biting cold. Our windshield was frosted with a
heavy frost that took some time to clear off so we could see
out. There were very long stretches of road running straight
east. Very often we would see a train puffing its way eastward
with heavy clouds of smoke pouring from the huge smoke stacks
and leaving a large cloud for a great, long distance behind.
Yes, once again, as many times before and after, we were
reminded of the long roads our pioneer parents had passed over
and at a much slower rate than we were doing now, and our
heart's would go out to them in great appreciation for their
courage, their faith and devotion.
How very much our parents did for us in blazing their
trails and coming to a land where they could live their religion
according to their beliefs. How much we owe to them for teaching
us the true principles of the Lord, Jesus Christ. We must never
forget the sacrifices they made for their religion in order to
bring up their families in the right way. God bless their
memory forever and ever.
As we drove on through Nebraska, we noted that the ground
was very wet and could not be farmed, to our judgment, for
weeks. The rolling hills were bare and vegetation seemed to be
much later and of course the temperatures were much lower than
at home. As we neared the eastern part of the state, we crossed
the North Platte river. Mile after mile we could see ahead to
the top of a ridge and wondered what the next stretch of road
would reveal; but as we reached the high place, or top of the
ridge, we could only see another stretch of endless road as far
ahead as our eyes could see. This experience seemed to repeat
itself time after time. Late in the afternoon, however, we
passed a field in which a couple of men were working, plowing
as I remember, with a tractor. We were happy to see some life
and moving things and we did not feel that we were altogether
alone in this unfamiliar area of the country.
We stopped at a drive-in and had a nice dinner. We were
not so weary of riding as we had been the day before, and just
as the sun was going down we came to the Missouri river. And
how much had we heard about that river! Now it became a
reality to us instead of a story. A lovely large bridge took
our eye. We stopped the car, got out, and took some pictures.
We stood on the banks of this great river and picked up some
bits of pottery that lay on the banks, as souvenirs to its
memory.
Resuming our travels, we realized at once that we were in
another state, the lovely state of Iowa. I had wished so often
to see this state with its green, rolling hills and beautiful
homes, and I was not disappointed in the least. We drove quite
late into the night with a bright, full moon keeping guard
over our heads and revealing an eminence of beauty. The large
white homes, the green hills, the huge barns and the lights
streaming from the windows of the barns as well as from the
homes. Iowa was all alive, and so much different than the
state we had just passed through. We stayed that night at a
tourist cabin. We found the rooms very clean and the beds
restful, and we lost no time in getting our much-needed rest.
April 17. We arose early again this beautiful morning. We
followed our usual habit of riding a few hours before we ate
our breakfast. The scenery began to grow more interesting the
farther east we went, and now great groves of trees often came
to our view. Many creeks, rivers, and small streams of water
with little bridges to pass over. We noticed, however, that the
water in these streams was never clear. It seemed that in one
creek it would be roily or some dirty color. This was curious to
us for our streams at home are clear most all of the time. We
found a good eating place again and really enjoyed our
breakfast, although it was nearer mid-day than morning. Resuming
our journey, we were really getting a long way from Utah now,
and where each place we came to had historical significance.
We crossed the huge Mississippi river at 12:00 Noon, and it was
really a thrill to be on the long span of steel that connected
in many places to form such a beautiful bridge. Here again we
took some pictures of the beautiful structure.
After crossing this bridge, we again entered another state,
and we found ourselves in Illinois, the state in which our
ancestors had helped to build a beautiful city, the city of
Nauvoo, and the temple that had been erected in the early days
of the Church. We did not go to that city, however, but our
minds were occupied with so many events that had taken place
there. We were conscious that within the borders of this state
stood Carthage jail, the place where our Prophet Joseph Smith
and his brother had been murdered in cold blood for our
religion. Oh, how could a state be so wicked? We earnestly
gazed at the paths and the roads in every direction and
realized that perhaps our Prophet had traveled these same
lanes or paths many times under the same sun and with breezes
blowing on him as they were now blowing on us. The same
atmosphere seemed to exist now as then and we felt very humble
and very privileged to be traveling over the same country as
they had done some years ago.
We passed many beautiful cemeteries and I took special
notice of each one and wondered which, if any of them, was the
place where my little Lorin Eugene lay sleeping. I did not
know at the time that his little grave was in a cemetery many
miles south of our course of travel. We did not get to visit
that little grave where he was buried. We traveled on and on,
our wide-open eyes sweeping the countryside, and our thoughts
were on the many events that we had heard about from parents.
My grandmother Austin had been baptized in the Mississippi
river when she was a little girl. What a huge body of running
water, and what a tiny little girl to be buried for an instant
in that huge stream.
We reached Chicago late in the afternoon and went straight
up Michigan Drive. We found ourselves engulfed with so many
cars that it was impossible to turn back for quite a while,
so we drove for a few miles along the big, beautiful Michigan
lake, or Lake Michigan, as one would properly call it. It was a
most wonderful sight. And seeing the sail ships out on the
lake was truly inspiring. We finally got to a place where we
could turn, and so we did. We drove back to Chicago, but we did
not go into the main part of town because it was so crowded with
cars going every direction, for it was just the time when
everyone was going home from work and it was easy to get
muddled up in a traffic jam. We drove down to a large bridge,
however, and got out of our car and walked along the bridge
and viewed the skyline of Chicago from a distance. It seemed
that most of the people we saw in that city were black. I think
we saw only two white men while we were there. We cared little
for the city of Chicago and we were glad to leave it in the
background.
We drove into the state of Indiana before we decided to
look for a place to stay the night. We found a tourist cabin.
The man who owned the place was blind, and it was quite a dark
night. There was a large lake or river that ran near the cabin,
and the tall, dark trees hid the light of the moon. The beds
were really cold, and James and Agnes did not get warm the
whole night long. Along in the night, I awoke with a terrible
sore throat that pained me most severely, and I felt that I
was coming down with a case of the flu. I was really
frightened and worried nearly to death.
I had only one way to turn, and I did it. I prayed most
earnestly to my Heavenly Father, repeating my prayer over
and over again for two hours or more, I believe. I had a few
home remedies along with me, so as to show that I had works
along with my faith. I got up, gargled my throat in aspirin
water a few times, then taking the Mentholatum, I rubbed my
throat for a long time and at the same time I was pleading
with my Father in Heaven to make this effective to the extent
that my ailment would leave. I was far from home, I told Him,
and would probably reach Lorin's place the next night and I
did not want to take a sickness into his home or among his
children. "Father in Heaven," I prayed most earnestly, "wilt
Thou hear the humble pleadings of one of Thy children?" I put
my whole heart and soul into that prayer and if ever a prayer
was answered directly and promptly, it was this time, for soon
the pain left me, my throat became well, and I went on next
day with James, Agnes, and Garth, just as well as they were.
Thanks to my God.
April 18. Once more we climbed into the car and took off
at an early hour. We had anxiously awaited for this day, for
we intended to make it to Lorin's home to spend the night with
him and his family. Every hour and every mile we put behind us
meant so much to us for we were very anxious to see our dear
son and his family. We soon crossed the state line and entered
Ohio. Large groves of trees came up before us more frequently.
The country got more hilly, smoky, and it became much harder
to see a great distance. It was interesting to see school
children on every corner waiting for buses to pick them up; or
high-school girls in their winter coats and scarfs hurriedly
passing on their way to school. The mailboxes along the rural
routes looked so familiar; as if they had something in common
with the ones out in the West. People seemed to decorate their
front lawns with clotheslines, and that was much different of
course, for out home we always put clotheslines at the rear of
the house. Their shade trees seemed to have been planted by
nature instead of being set in rows like ours at home. But all
in all, Ohio was a very pretty state and seemed to be much
earlier in the season than most all that we had traveled
through so far.
We stopped to lunch and to get the car greased in a little
town in West Virginia--or at least part of it was in West
Virginia. It seemed to be nestled between two large hills, and
the space between the hills was not too large to hold the
little village or small town. Agnes and I looked around while
James and Garth got the car all in shape. I bought a little
dish as a souvenir and to help me remember that place. We passed
many schoolhouses, colleges, universities, cities, and churches
of many denominations, but the amount of water and groves of
timber were what amazed us so much more than anything else. We
arrived at Canton, Ohio. A huge, big city it certainly was. We
took Highway 8 from there and drove south three miles to North
Industry. There is where we found Lorin. North Industry is a
suburb of Canton, and as far as the buildings were concerned,
there seemed to be plenty of them all along the three-mile trip.
We arrived at Lorin's home at 4:30 P.M. We found Lorin and
his family all home and waiting for us. They had just gotten
back the night before from a trip to see Viola's people in
Illinois and were still quite tired of traveling. We visited
for a while, then had supper. After supper, James, Agnes,
Garth, Lorin, and Viola decided to look around the city a
little, and I was happy to stay with the children and get more
acquainted with them. They were sure sweet to me, and didn't
cause one bit of fuss. There was Val, 5; Barbara, 3; and Dan,
2 years old. When the folks returned from their adventure,
the children were all asleep and contented as could be. Lorin
and Viola brought me a cute little handkerchief box as a
souvenir, and I truly appreciated their kindness. We were well
taken care of that night, and visited with them until noon
the next day.
Lorin took us in his car and we visited the McKinley
Monument, where both President McKinley and his wife's
caskets are visible. It is truly a remarkable structure. Then
returning to Lorin's house, we visited for another short
period of time, then went on our way about 12:00 Noon. It was
hard to leave Lorin's place, for we realized it may be many
years before we would see any of them again. Lorin worked in
a steel plant and it took all he earned to keep his family fed
and comfortable, and we knew it truly took a lot of money to
make a trip for eighteen-hundred miles across the States. But
hard as it was, we went on our way.
After we had traveled a few miles, a car drove up beside
us and honked, and we stopped. It was Lorin, who had decided
to catch up with us and ask me if I wouldn't like to stay at
his place for a month or two and make them a visit, but I had
not prepared things at home to that effect, and I was
anxiously awaiting the visit with Lynn, who was in
Pennsylvania, so I decided to go on with the party. It was a
little cloudy that morning and it had been sprinkling a little
during the night, and a cold south wind was blowing. Lorin
informed us that a severe storm had preceded us the day
before. Snow, wind, and rain had hit quite hard in those
parts, but we had enjoyed good weather all along the way. We
drove on very cautiously, taking in everything in sight, and
crossed into Pennsylvania within a couple of hours. We now
felt close to Lynn, for that night we expected to arrive at
the hospital where he was. We drove to Bedford and ate lunch
there, then decided to go on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the
largest and longest highway in the United States.
I mean to say here, that James and Agnes bought themselves
a nice cowboy clock at Bedford, since this was their honeymoon
trip and they wished to have a present to remember it. And this
clock was sure a beauty! So it occupied a part of our car from
then on.
We found the turnpike to be a very nice highway. Wide,
smooth, and grand in every way, except once we got on, there
weren't many places to get off. We had to bypass Phoenixville
and travel, I think it was nine miles, beyond the place that
we were headed for. So we went nearly to Harrisville, and as
the highway was still under construction, we reached the end
of it near that town. By the time we got back to Phoenixville
and found a place to stay, it was so late we could not get to
see Lynn that night. It seemed that all the hotels and cabins
were filled up, and for a while it looked as though we would
have to sleep in the car. But, about 12:00 Midnight, James
went into a drug store that was still open; however, they were
just getting ready to close. He met a man there who worked in
the store and told him about our plight. The man told James to
take us to his house and he would give us lodgings for the
night. We were truly happy that this man had been so kind. His
name was Dr. Barefoot, and he and his wife truly made us
comfortable and we had a good night's rest.
We did not get up very early next morning, for we were
very weary and tired, and we knew that we could not get into
the hospital very early, so we relaxed. When we did arise, we
had a long visit with Mrs. Barefoot. She seemed to be very
much interested in the state where we resided and also in the
Church to which we belonged. We finally bid her goodbye, with
many thanks for the hospitality she had shown us, along with
her husband. We had only a short distance to drive, maybe
three miles, when we came to the great entrance to the
hospital. We were admitted onto the grounds, and soon we found
the entrance to the hospital where we found Lynn. He was still
in his pajamas and was looking for us, as we had written him
that we were on our way East.
We visited for some time. This was Friday, 20 April 1951,
and the day of the big parade in honor of General MacArthur in
New York City, so we sat in the dayroom at the hospital with
wounded soldiers in beds all around, and watched with them the
parade on television. I had made up my mind if I could arrange
it, I would stay close by the hospital while Agnes, James, and
Garth went on to New York City. I was so tired, I thought a
rest there would be the wisest thing, but it did not work out
that way, for Lynn had already arranged for the week, and
although he could only go on crutches or in a wheelchair,
Garth pushed him in the chair to different parts of the
hospital where it was necessary for him to go to get his pass
and his uniform. He lost no time, however, and with a little
help from Garth he was soon dressed and ready to join us.
The people at the hospital seemed to be very kind to
Lynn, and as if they had been informed of our coming ahead of
time, they seemed to be interested in us, also, and concerned
about us making a trip all the way from Utah in a little,
green Henry J. However, we felt as if the car was worth a bit
of praise itself, as we hadn't had any trouble with it
whatsoever at any time.
Well, resuming our journey after getting Lynn settled
into the car in a comfortable position, we started for New
York City. Lynn had been there a couple or three times
before, so he could easily determine the road we must follow.
We went through Valley Forge. Such an historical place we had
never before dreamed of seeing. It brought to our minds the
terrible, bitter winter endured there by that great General,
George Washington, and his troops. We passed so many beautiful
estates, gorgeous green hills, landmarks, and statues. Well,
indeed this area was an historical place. We drove through the
tunnels, where large mountains, or maybe I should say large
hills, had been tunneled out for a mile at a time--four of them
had been done the same way, and at first I felt a little afraid
to pass under such mountains of dirt, but I soon overcame my
fear and settled down to try to get the most out of the trip.
Then, to my surprise, we found ourselves going through the
Holland Tunnel under the Hudson river from New Jersey City into
New York City. We drove on the Skyway, and it was truly
interesting to ride the highway many feet above the house
tops! When we arrived in that large city, it was far beyond
our expectations. One who had seen so little of our country and
the greatness of it as I had done, could hardly believe such a
great large city could be possible. We took a good look, from
a distance, at the Statue of Liberty, then went to Times
Square; then, to the Empire State building. We took the huge
elevator to the top, 86 storeys, in less than two minutes. There
was a guide who took us around the building and pointed out to
us all the most important parts of the city. If my memory
serves me right, this is the way it went: To the Southeast we
could see across the bay to Brooklyn. A little to the north,
was Queens. To the south, Coney Island. Also, the high
Woolworth building which, until the Empire State building came
into existence, was the tallest building in New York City. To
the west lay the Hudson river and its piers lined with
hundreds of ships, including the great ship Queen Mary, that
was lighted up and beaming brightly, getting ready to go on a
voyage to Europe that evening. To the north lay miles and
miles of just plain New York City and Central Park, as far as
the eye could see. A little to the east of north, was the
great theater (Radio City Music Hall, Rockefeller Center), and
east of that, the East river.
Well, we are still up on top of the Empire State building,
where tourists come to dine and buy things. We bought some
souvenirs and after seeing all our eyes could hold, we
descended that high building and went to our car, climbed in,
and took off back to the hospital again, where Lynn was a
patient. It was 12:00 Midnight when we reached the hospital.
Lynn had arranged sleeping quarters for us at the hospital
guest house, so we hurriedly found our rooms and went to
bed--tired, weary, and yet excited and thrilled about our
day's experiences.
We arose quite early, ate our breakfast at the Army cafe,
and went to see Lynn again. Lynn had to have some care taken of
his leg, so we had to wait for quite a while. After his leg was
bathed and dressed again, we took him again with us and we
went to Philadelphia. There we visited Independence Square,
then into Independence Hall. There we viewed the great
manuscript of the Constitution of our country. We also saw the
Liberty Bell and stroked it with our hands. We saw furniture
that was hundreds of years old, and many interesting and
historical things. Then we went to the Philadelphia Art
Museum, visited in many of its rooms and halls and saw so
many wonderful paintings, statues, and antique furniture of
different periods and styles. We were surely interested in all
we saw. We had our pictures taken by the statue that stands in
front of the art museum, and then we started back again to
Valley Forge Hospital, where we said goodbye to our dear Lynn,
so far away from home, and on crutches. But it had to be done,
of course, and we knew if we were prayerful and lived the best
we knew how to do, that the Lord would grant our prayers in
Lynn's behalf, and that he would be well cared for.
We took our course from Valley Forge Hospital southward
along the East Coast. We passed close to the Aberdeen Proving
Grounds (near Chesapeake Bay). It was at Aberdeen, Maryland,
that Lynn had met with his terrible accident, and he had been
in the Army hospital there until he was taken by ambulance to
Valley Forge Hospital, near Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. We saw
the Chesapeake Bay in the moonlight, as we passed that way.
We drove through Baltimore, Maryland, and on and on through
canyons, timbers, and narrow dugways. We came to rest at night
at a tourist home at Ashton, Maryland.
Next morning, we drove to Washington, D.C., and stopped in
front of the Capitol building for quite a long time. I did not
feel well that day, so I stayed in the car while James, Agnes,
and Garth went into the building and looked around. We saw the
White House, although it was under repair, or being remodeled,
at that time. We drove through Arlington, Virginia, and saw the
large estate of General Robert E. Lee, the Arlington Cemetery,
where many of our great and noble countrymen are buried. We saw
the grave of the Unknown Soldier. We went across the beautiful
Potomac river. We saw Washington's birthplace and also his
home and the building where he is laid at rest. We saw the tall
monument built to his memory. Here again, Agnes, James, and
Garth went into the edifice while I remained in the car. We
drove to the Lincoln Memorial, and visited there for a while.
We saw the Jefferson Monument, also. It was 1:15 P.M. when we
left Mount Vernon and headed toward Utah and the West. And once
we started with our faces westward, we began thinking and
wondering how the folks were at home, and it seemed as if we
couldn't get back to them soon enough. So we took the highway
that would lead us to them the quickest. And that was Highway
40. We drove to Grafton, West Virginia, and stayed at a
tourist home that night.
Next morning we resumed our journey, and drove through the
remaining part of West Virginia, through Ohio, and into Indiana,
where we stayed that night. Next day we went through St. Louis,
Missouri, then drove to Kansas City, Missouri. There, we went
to visit an Elder (Cliff Johnson, James' nephew), who was
laboring on an LDS mission in that city. He got into our car
with us and directed us to Independence, Missouri, where we
visited the place that has been dedicated by the Prophet
Joseph Smith. It was a most glorious feeling to stand on that
holy and sacred ground, and with a bright moon over our heads
in a clear blue sky, we certainly did feel the influence of
that holy place. We then drove to see the home of President
Harry S. Truman. It was a very large white home, with a high
wire fence around it. When we took Elder Johnson back to his
residence, he expressed the desire to go with us as far as
Kansas City, Kansas. There we said goodbye to him, and then
drove for some time before we found a tourist cabin on the
outskirts of that city, where we stayed the night.
Next morning we were on our way again, with our faces
towards the West. We drove through Fort Riley, Kansas. That is
the Army camp where Lynn had taken his basic training in the
fall of 1950. There were many men in uniform and in training
as we watched them while passing through the grounds. We made
our way to Denver, Colorado, before we stopped that night,
staying in a hotel there.
We left Denver at quite an early hour the next morning,
after driving around the city a little, especially around the
State Capitol building, which looked very beautiful as it
stood there so stately against the beautiful mountains, with
the sun shining on it so brightly. Soon, however, we were on
our way from that city, and next we found ourselves nearing
the top of the great Continental Divide.
The scene had changed, however, from the beautiful green
hills of Mount Vernon, to a solid winter scene, with high
snow-drifts, pine trees, and everything to give the canyon a
Christmas effect. It was very beautiful, of course, but we
had enough of winter just a couple of months before, so we did
not linger too long to enjoy the beauty of it all. We drove to
the very top--and had our picture taken by the big sign that
divides the East from the West Coast. Then we were on our way.
The deer would cross the road just ahead of us as we drove
along the highway, as if they were not the least bit
frightened or disturbed by our passing.
We enjoyed every minute of our trip, but we were truly
happy to reach home again at about 10:00 P.M. in Salt Lake
City, and found all the children well and happy to see us.
After thanking our Heavenly Father for his care over our loved
ones while we were gone, and for our safe return home, we soon
retired and settled down for a long and peaceful night's rest.
[This little story is dedicated to James, Agnes, and Garth,
in remembrance of the lovely trip we had to the East Coast, and
the visits we enjoyed with our dear family members and others.
(James Christian Roholt, Jr., Agnes Burton Roholt, his wife,
and James Garth Roholt, their eldest son).
Written by Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton. Logan, Utah. 1951.