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Friday, January 20, 2017

My Ancestors Who Personally Knew Joseph Smith

I have come across a number of my ancestor's memories and descriptions of their personal associations with the Prophet Joseph Smith. I am humbled when I read what they wrote, and it helps strengthen my faith in the divine calling of Joseph Smith -- to be the prophet of the restoration of the gospel and church of Jesus Christ.

My ancestors who personally knew Joseph Smith and wrote of their associations were James Houston, Albert Miner, Tamma Durfee Miner, and Moroni Miner:

James Houston
1817 - 1864
James Houston - Next House Neighbor to Joseph Smith

My third great grandfather James Houston (1817-1864) was from Paisley, Scotland. He recorded in an autobiography[1] when he first heard about Joseph Smith and also some personal experiences with Joseph Smith.

When James was around age 18 (the year 1835 or so), elders from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ("Mormon") came to Paisley preaching a peculiar message. James didn’t have a chance to listen to the elders properly initially. However, he soon spoke with someone else who had listened to the elders, and that person told James about an angel coming to a Joseph Smith and also what this angel had said.

This conversation had a great impact on James. He recorded that when he heard of Joseph Smith and the angel, “the power followed the word -- and it ran through me from head to foot. I began to stand up for it and was surprised at myself.” James continued to learn more about the church. A book entitled '[A] Voice of Warning' was particularly influential on him. He believed what he had read and heard from the elders, but he did not yet feel ready to get baptized.

James Houston later sailed for America in October 1840 with a small company of church members, even though he himself was not a member. The journey took nine weeks and was described as “pleasant.” James first arrived in New Orleans, Mississippi and then made his way to Springnell, Illinois at the invitation of an Elder Mulliner. Elder Mulliner led the company from Scotland and also had a home in Springnell. There in Springnell in 1841, James Houston was baptized and became a member of the church.

In the spring of 1841, James learned a person was needed to help drive cattle to Nauvoo, Illinois in relation to the construction of the Nauvoo Temple and Nauvoo House the church was involved with. James volunteered and arrived in Nauvoo April 30, 1841. It was there in Nauvoo that James came to meet Joseph Smith personally and lived next to him. James recorded:

“Suffice it to say that I saw the Prophet of the Lord, Joseph Smith. A few days later I took up my abode in the next house to the prophet's. I lived there nine months and I can assure you the Prophet was all he professed to be. I knew he was a true Prophet of God, for I have heard him speak and prophesy as he was led by the Holy Ghost.  He was a good and great man.”

Joseph Smith homestead in Nauvoo, Illinois

Joseph Houston (1851–1935), son of James Houston and my second great grandfather, also recounted [2] that James Houston “had many, many talks with Joseph Smith. [James] knew him to be a prophet of God.”


Tamma Durfee Miner
1813 - 1885
Albert and Tamma Miner - Close Associates and Bodyguard (Albert) to Joseph Smith

Albert Miner (1809-1848) is a third great grandfather of mine and Tamma Durfee (1813-1885) a third great grandmother. They had close association with Joseph Smith. A lot of information is provided in biographies[3] [4] [5] about Albert and Tamma, so in some instances I have just copied the information verbatim to provide their background and associations with Joseph Smith.

Albert was born in Jefferson County, New York. His family moved to New London, Ohio when he was 6. At age 22 (and still living in Ohio), Albert met Tamma Durfee.  Tamma was interested in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ("Mormon"), but she delayed her baptism until after she and Albert were married. They married in August 1831, and Tamma was baptized December 1831. Tamma's parents and most of her siblings had previously been baptized some time before her.

Albert's family was strongly opposed to him joining the church. He told them that “the more they had to say, the sooner he would be baptized.”  He ignored the bitterness of his family and was baptized in February 1832.  It was so cold they had to cut a hole in the ice on a river in order to baptize him. He would not wait until spring to be baptized.

Around late 1832 or early 1833, Albert, Tamma and the Durfees moved to Kirtland, Ohio, then the headquarters of the church. Albert and Tamma were faithful church workers and were constantly in close communication with the Prophet Joseph Smith. They assisted very materially in building the Kirtland Temple, and attended the dedication ceremony of the temple in 1836 and saw and felt the marvelous [and divine] manifestations that took place.

In the spring of 1834, the Prophet Joseph Smith called for elders to go to Jackson County [Missouri] and redeem Zion. Albert Miner and a certain Dennis Lake decided to draw cuts to see which one of them would go and which one would stay behind in order to take care of both their families. It fell to Albert to stay behind. Dennis Lake went, but he was not strengthened by the experience. When he returned he fell away from the church and sued the Prophet for three months work, or $60. Because of the hatred toward the Prophet, Albert and his brother-in-law, Edmund Durfee Jr., served as bodyguards for Joseph Smith.

Time passed and Albert and Tamma went through many of the hardships and challenges associated with the persecution of Mormons during that era. Tamma recorded in her autobiography[6] about the time when Joseph Smith, and his brother Hyrum Smith, were martyred and also times when Joseph Smith had preached. She wrote:

 "[I] was there in 1844 when Joseph and Hyrum were Martyred. I went and saw them after they were taken to their homes. I had been aquainted with them for 12 years. In May I heard them both preach and talk to the Saints a great many times. I heard Joseph once talk and preach for five hours to a congregation, no one was tired, this was in Kirtland before they built the first temple."


Moroni Miner
1835 - 1935
Moroni Miner - Blessed by Joseph Smith and Lived in Nauvoo with Joseph Smith

Moroni Miner (1835-1935) was a son of Albert and Tamma Miner, so he is a second great grandfather to me. Moroni was born in Kirtland, Ohio. He was blessed as a child by the Prophet Joseph Smith, and his mother Tamma wrote[7] that the Prophet said the following:

"That he would be as great as Moroni of old, and people would flee unto him and call him blessed."

Later in life, Moroni recalled[8] when he was nine years old and living in Nauvoo, Illinois at the time Joseph Smith was martyred. Moroni said:

"Nauvoo was a beautiful city -- so clean and thriving. It seemed that all the women sang all the time. The homes were large and well built, the yards and fences and out-buildings well kept. Truly the city of 'brotherly love.'

Though only nine years old when the Prophet Joseph and his brother Hyrum were martyred, I can remember the prevailing sadness of that occasion -- the men gathering in groups about the streets, and my mother and the other women weeping.

I can remember the handsome majesty of the two as they visited with us, preached to us and walked among us.

I remember them leading the Nauvoo Legion. I loved to watch it parade and longed for the time when I would be one of them in a shining uniform.

 I remember them also, as they lay in their coffins, side by side, so still and lifeless."

Lastly, Moroni wrote[9] of his and his parents' association with Joseph Smith:

"I knew that Joseph Smith was a Prophet of God.  I have seen him in person.  He came to our home and visited my parents.  My parents were closely associated with the Prophet."





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Friday, January 6, 2017

My Great Grandmother - Ethel Bunker Miner - "Sis, How Did You Know?"

Ethel Bunker Miner
This is a true story about my great grandmother Ethel Bunker Miner and great granduncle Ralph Clyde Bunker. There are many lessons one can learn from this story, but the biggest lesson for me is a reconfirmation that divine intervention is real and it happens. It helps strengthen my faith in God and prayer. Here are my father Jim Hartley's words who prepared this and made it available through FamilySearch.org:

"For people of faith, there are often “coincidences” in life that cannot be explained except by divine intervention. Those coincidences can involve feelings and actions that defy all reason and common sense, yet they are so powerful, miracles happen. Through them, God’s personalized love and tender mercies are manifest, and there can be no other explanation. Such was the case with Ethel and Clyde Bunker.

Ethel & Clyde in
their younger years
Ethel and Clyde were the children of Edward Bunker, Jr. and Arimenta Zarada McClellan. There were 13 children born into their family, but only six lived beyond early childhood. Ethel and Clyde were the youngest of the surviving children. Clyde was six years younger than Ethel, so it’s reasonable to assume that while growing up, Ethel was as much a little “mother” to Clyde as she was his sister. That could explain why Clyde turned to Ethel in a time of extreme need.

In 1914, when the United States entered World War 1, the call was given to “go to war or take a farm.” Ethel and her husband bought a farm. Clyde was drafted into the Army.

On December 20, 1912, Ethel Bunker married Paul Chase Miner. When America entered the war, Paul was 25 years old and considered to be too old to be drafted. So Paul and Ethel bought a large number of acres in Manila, Utah, a remote area in the extreme northeastern corner of the state. There, they planted many acres of field and garden crops and raised 1,000 chickens, 500 turkeys, and some ducks and geese. They had a few horses, including Ethel’s favorite horse, “Buckskin.” They also had a pet Jersey cow named “Flossie.” They didn’t own a car or a tractor, so “Buckskin” and the other horses were their only “horsepower” for plowing, hauling, and transportation.

In January 1917, 22-year old Ralph Clyde Bunker registered for the military draft. Eight months later, he married Evelene Sorensen. Then, eight months after his marriage, on April 28, 1918, he was called up to join the Army. Sadly, he left Evelene one-month pregnant with their son. Because of the war, Clyde would not see his first-born until the boy was five months old.

Private 1st Class Bunker was assigned to the Army’s 362nd Infantry Regiment and the 91st Division—the “Wild West Division.”

On September 7, 1918, Clyde’s unit joined approximately 550,000 other Americans fighting the Germans at the Battle of St. Mihiel in France. The four-day offensive that began on September 12th was successful, but it cost the Allies approximately 7,000 casualties.

But the Battle of St. Mihiel was only a warm-up for the largest and most decisive battle of World War 1, the Battle of Meuse-Argonne. It was the final Allied offensive of the war and it spanned the entire 400+ miles of the Western Front through Belgium, France, and part of southwestern Germany. That brutal 47-day battle was fought from September 26th until the Armistice on November 11th 1918. Along with British, French, and Belgian troops, it involved 1.2 million American soldiers. The battle took more than 26,000 American lives and wounded nearly 96,000 others, making it the largest and bloodiest operation of the war for the American forces.

At one point during the battle, on October 3, 1918, Clyde’s unit was pinned down under nearly 10 hours of intensive enemy artillery fire. Without adequate cover many were wounded or killed that day. In addition to explosives, both sides outfitted artillery shells and grenades with mustard gas and the battle fields were blanketed with clouds of poisonous gas. Clyde was among those who were gassed. Nevertheless, he was able to continue with his regiment until the end of the war.

On April 16th, 1919, five months after the war ended, Clyde and the “Wild West” 91st Division returned to the states. Thirteen days later, on April 29, 1919, Clyde’s 362nd Regiment was demobilized at Fort David A. Russell [now Francis E. Warren Air Force Base] in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

But, Clyde wasn’t ready to face his wife and son yet. Shortly after arriving in the States, Clyde sent a letter to his sister, Ethel, asking if he could stay with her and her family for a while. He had been gassed during the war and his nerves were very bad.

More than 124,000 tons of chemical weapons had been produced during the war and were heavily used by both sides, especially during the final two years, 1917 and 1918. Phosgene Gas was code named “White Star.” Chlorine Gas combined with Phosgene Gas was code named “Red Star.” And, the most widely used and most damaging gas, Mustard Gas, was code named, “Yellow Cross” because Germans would mark their mustard gas artillery shells and grenades with a yellow cross. An estimated 1.3 million soldiers were poisoned with gas during World War 1. Few were actually killed; the gasses were meant to injure and disable.

Mustard Gas, for example, caused severe burning and blistering of the skin, eyes, throat, and lungs. It was absorbed into the body through inhalation, ingestion, or by coming into contact with the skin or eyes. Victims required many weeks to recover. Sadly, some remained permanently disfigured or blind. Others developed respiratory diseases or infections that were fatal. The gas also damaged DNA in human cells, rendering victims at great risk for certain types of cancers. The effects of the poisonous gas and the trauma of the war were physically and emotionally disabling for many who returned home. Clyde was one of them.

When demobilized from Fort Russell in Cheyenne, Wyoming, Clyde and hundreds of other soldiers boarded trains for home. For those traveling west, the first railroad transfer point was Green River, Wyoming. From there, trains headed either northwest or southwest. Clyde hoped that he wouldn’t have to transfer at all. Instead, he hoped that his sister, Ethel, would pick him up at Green River. But a terrible storm rolled in that damaged telephone lines between Green River and Manila. Clyde couldn’t get a call through to notify her. He had no other option but to endure the night at the station and on the next day, travel home in his fragile, weakened condition.

That next morning, across the border in Utah, Ethel announced to her husband, Paul, that they weren’t going to Sunday School that day. She insisted that they had to borrow a car and drive to Green River and get Clyde. She told how she saw her brother in a dream during the night. She saw that he was trying to reach them, but for some reason couldn’t. A dream? Paul said, “Ethel, it is 60 miles and we can’t go there on a wild goose chase!” Ethel began to cry and insisted that she absolutely knew that Clyde was at the train station. Very reluctantly, Paul agreed to go and he borrowed a neighbor’s car.

As they came into view of the railway station, a distant train was approaching from the east. “Drive faster, Paul,” Ethel exclaimed. “We must get there before that train does because Clyde will leave on it.” Paul just shrugged his shoulders and drove a little faster. They arrived at the station before the train and found hundreds of soldiers milling around. Frantically, Ethel and Paul circulated among the soldiers inquiring after Clyde Bunker. Just when they were about to give up, Ethel spotted her brother and yelled, “Clyde Bunker, I’m here!” There was immense joy as they fell into each other’s arms. Clyde was astonished. “Sis,” he asked, “how did you know I was here?” Ethel then told him of her dream. Clyde responded, “The Lord truly heard and answered my prayer! I vowed that if I didn’t see you here before this train came in I would have to go on.”

Clyde stayed with Ethel and her family for a few weeks while he recuperated and gained strength.

How did Ethel know her brother was at the Green River railroad station? In circumstances like this, there is no such thing as coincidence. It was divine intervention pure and simple—a providential response to the desperate prayer of a sick and lonely soldier."

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Adapted by James E. Hartley from an autobiography, “Life and History of Norma Miner Hartley,” written by Norma Miner Hartley (daughter of Ethel Bunker Miner). (Norma was with her parents at the Green River railroad station when “Uncle Clyde” was miraculously found there.)
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Saturday, December 10, 2016

My Grandma Norma Hartley: Pioneer in Knee Replacement

Grandma & Grandpa Hartley
This is a story my father, Jim Hartley, put together about his mother (my grandmother), Norma Miner Hartley, and the time she went through knee replacement surgery. There are lots of lessons one can learn from this experience, but the charitable acts of a number of women and even my own father helping my grandmother through physical therapy and recovery catches my attention the most. Overall, this story helps give me a desire to be more charitable and Christ-like to those in need. Below are my father's words:

'Norma Miner Hartley was an active, industrious woman. She was always busy with something—raising her five boys, maintaining and beautifying the home, caring for elderly parents, helping the neighbors, spoiling grandchildren, and being involved in church activities. She was extremely talented. She had a beautiful soprano voice. She was an excellent pianist. She loved square dancing with her husband. She arranged flowers and made a variety of handsome crafts. She was an expert genealogist. She could reupholster a sofa and refinish a dining room table. She was a skilled seamstress, a wonderful cook, and a strong teacher and leader. Put simply, Norma was a “doer.” Very little could slow her down. But one thing eventually did—her crooked leg.

In the early 1930’s, Norma attended Brigham Young University for two years. While there, she earned a block letter in debate, performed in dramatic productions, and sang in the school chorus. She was well-liked, and was selected by her college social unit to compete for the school’s title of Miss Popularity.

During a college physical education class Norma participated in some relay races and was injured in a freak accident. As she reached out to pass the relay baton to the next girl, the girl’s foot kicked her right knee and dislocated her knee cap. Norma was in a leg cast for about a month. Afterward, everything seemed to go very well. But, the next four decades of active life slowly wore down her knee. Arthritis set in. Cartilage deteriorated. Her leg became increasingly bent outward, and along with it, her mobility became more and more limited and painful.

In the early 1970’s medical researchers were developing a revolutionary new procedure called total knee arthroplasty (TKA)—in layman’s terms, total knee replacement. In those days, the procedure began with an eight inch cut on the front of the knee from the top to the bottom. The damaged bone and cartilage were then surgically removed. An artificial knee joint made of stainless steel and plastic was inserted and glued to the thigh bone (the femur) and the main shin bone (the tibia). Finally, ligaments and tendons were reattached and tightened, and the knee was stitched closed.

Dr. Richard B. Welch, an orthopedic surgeon at St. Mary’s Hospital in San Francisco, California, was one of the pioneering doctors who performed the new surgery. Norma arranged for an examination. It was obvious from x-rays that the hinge on the right side of Norma’s knee had completely disintegrated, and the left side was rapidly doing the same. The doctor warned that within a few months, she would completely lose the use of her leg.

On May 21, 1973 Norma underwent the surgery. The surgeon successfully inserted the artificial knee joint and straightened her leg. She spent 24 days recovering in the hospital. Every day during that period her devoted husband, Charlie, made the long drive across the San Francisco Bay to be with and encourage her.

After returning home, she was prescribed nine months of physical therapy. During the first several months, women from her LDS ward would come three times each day to help her exercise her knee. She would lay face down on the kitchen table while her knee and leg were systematically bent, moved, and manipulated. Each session of therapy brought intense pain and tears . . . lots of tears!

In addition to the pain of the therapy, Norma suffered from severe muscle cramps in her leg, especially during the nights. Charlie was hard of hearing in one ear. When he slept on his good hear, he could not hear Norma quietly weeping in intense pain. Norma did not want to awaken him. So, she would lay in agony in the darkness softly crying and praying for the cramps to stop. Frequently her son, Jim, would hear her crying and would slip into her bedroom to massage her leg. While doing so, he would calm her by gently singing and humming one of her favorite pioneer hymns, “Come, Come Ye Saints.”

Come, come ye saints.
No toil nor labor fear.
But with joy, wend your way.
Though hard to you,
This journey may appear,
Grace shall be as your day.
Tis better far for us to strive
Our useless cares from us to drive.
Do this and joy, your hearts will swell
All is well! All is well!

The hymn was most appropriate. Norma had a strong Mormon pioneer heritage, and now she herself was a pioneer in the advancement of medical science.

Over time, she graduated from a wheelchair to crutches to a walker to a cane and finally she could walk without any assistance. It took nearly two years, but Norma was able to return to her full, active, industrious life. She began square dancing again with her husband. They traveled together to Mexico and to many locations in the United States, including Alaska and Hawaii. After her husband died in 1976, Norma served as a full-time proselyting missionary in Colorado for the LDS Church. She remarried in 1982. With her second husband, Paul Haymond, she served another mission as an LDS family history missionary.

Indeed, Norma Hartley was a “doer.” Until her death on April 28, 1992 from heart failure, there was very little that could ever slow her down!'

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Adapted by James E. Hartley from an autobiographical oral history of Norma Miner Hartley, interviewed and recorded by their son, William G. Hartley, along with input from Norma’s daughter-in-law, Susan Roberts Hartley, and son, James E. Hartley
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Thursday, December 8, 2016

From My Father - Little Kelli and Leukemia

My father - Jim Hartley 
This is a story my father recorded in his autobiography that has helped strengthen my faith in praying and fasting for others, even when circumstances can be very grim. This took place in California in the early 1960s. Here are his words:

"[...] I felt the power of a purposeful fast for the first time when I was 11-years old. We had a little girl in our ward, maybe five years old at the time, named Kelli Meyer. She suffered from leukemia. The disease progressed and she was hospitalized. She was in immense pain, and the doctors didn’t expect her to live. The bishop, Al Priddis, asked ward members to fast and pray for Kelli and her family. I knew Kelli. I knew her father, Vern. He ran the Flying A gas station next to the high school. I included Kelli in my prayers and voluntarily joined the fast. It was the first time that I had fasted for a full 24 hours. During the fast, Bishop Priddis and Brother Meyer gave Kelli a priesthood blessing to fight off the disease. Miraculously the disease immediately went into remission. The doctors could not explain the change. Kelli’s pain went away and she was able to go home.

But, within a few weeks, the leukemia returned with a vengeance and threatened to take her life again. Again the ward members (including me) prayed and fasted for her. Bishop Priddis and Brother Meyer again blessed her in the hospital, and the same unexplainable miracle happened. The disease suddenly went into remission, the pain disappeared, and Kelli went home to her family. Again, the doctors were completely baffled.

Then, just like before, within a few weeks the disease returned to claim little Kelli. This time there was no ward fast, but the bishop and Kelli’s loving dad gave her a final blessing. This time it was to release her from mortality. Kelli’s pain disappeared, and within a couple of hours of the blessing, Kelli passed away peacefully with her family surrounding her hospital bed.

I remember the bishop’s words when he reported the experience to the ward. He said that our prayers, fasts, and priesthood blessings were honored by Heavenly Father, but it was God’s will to bring his little daughter home to the spirit world. Our prayers and fasts were keeping her here, and she needed to go. It was time to say to Heavenly Father, “Thy will, not ours, be done.” When we did, Kelli was mercifully released from life. What a profound lesson that was to me as an 11-year old about the power of fasting, prayer, and the priesthood."

---


Taken from life sketch and autobiography "James E. Hartley: My Story"

* The spelling for "Kelli Meyer" may vary slightly in reality. This is the spelling how my father recalls..
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Saturday, December 3, 2016

My Uncle Bill Hartley - "Miracle Bill"

This is a true story about my uncle Bill Hartley written by his brother (my father), Jim Hartley. At a very young age, Bill was at great risk of going completely blind. It was a great challenge for him and his parents (my grandparents). Below are my father's words:

***

The Europa
On August 6, 2001, William (“Bill”) G. Hartley boarded a ship for a 59-day adventure of a lifetime. It wasn’t just any ship. It was the Europa, a Dutch-registered “tall ship” that was 184 feet long with three masts and 30 sails. 

 The ship was part of a fleet of eight majestic sailing ships that were part of Sea Trek 2001, a privately organized commemoration of 19th century Mormon immigration to the United States by sail from the British Isles, Scandinavia, and Western Europe.

The first 17 days of their adventure involved all eight tall ships and seven European ports in Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Germany, and England. The second stage of the adventure included the Europa and two other vessels, which sailed across the Atlantic Ocean by trade winds from Portsmouth, England to New York Harbor.

The Europa carried 48 passengers, 22 of whom were there because of the commemoration. Sea Trek appointed Bill as the ship’s historian and company president, who was responsible for the 21 other volunteer Sea Trek “crew trainees.” Although they were trainees, they became vital members of the ship’s working crew.

 From Landlubbers to Skilled Sailors of the High Seas

For nearly six weeks on the open seas, that soft-skinned crew of Sea Trek landlubbers climbed the Europa’s riggings, furled and unfurled her sails, repositioned the yards (the cross arms on a mast to which the sails are attached), steered the ship, maintained watch, and kept her sea-worthy with regular varnishing, sanding, painting, and cleaning. By the end of their trans-Atlantic journey the trainees were experienced, skilled sailors . . . who had lost a lot of weight and were mighty glad to be back on land!


Bill recalled what it was like to be in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean surrounded by nothing but the sea and the heavens:

Ours was a tiny ship in a vast ocean, with a 180-degree sky in daytime and that same sky blackened at night, but bejeweled by thousands of brilliant stars. Day and night, God’s grandeur seemed overwhelming.

The fact that Bill could even see “God’s grandeurs” is a miracle. Fifty-nine years earlier, he nearly lost his sight to glaucoma.

 Glaucoma

On February 10, 1942, Billy was born to Charles A. and Norma M. Hartley in Salt Lake City, Utah, their third child. He appeared to be a healthy, normal baby. When he was about two months old, his mother spent 14 days in the hospital battling an appendicitis that was so bad gangrene had set in. Soon after returning home, she and her husband noticed that something didn’t look right about little Billy’s eyes—they were discolored and filming over.

 Their family doctor referred them to an eye specialist, Dr. Palmer, who diagnosed “infantile glaucoma.” Certain fluids inside the eyes of newborns are supposed to drain out, but they didn’t in Billy’s case. The increasing pressure of those fluids was damaging the optic nerve in both eyes. Without immediate surgery, Billy would soon be completely blind. But, the technology and procedures known to that eye specialist might, at best, have saved Billy’s eyesight for perhaps three to six years before he would go blind. There was no optimism.

Before authorizing the surgery, Billy’s parents sought a second opinion from another eye specialist, Dr. Near. That doctor diagnosed the same problem, but, providentially the night before, he had read in a medical journal of a successful new surgery being performed by only one person in the world, Dr. Otto Barkan in San Francisco. The doctor strongly urged Charlie and Norma not to let anyone operate on Billy’s eyes unless it was Dr. Barkan. A third eye specialist was consulted, who confirmed the diagnosis and advice of the second. Arrangements were quickly made to see Dr. Barkan.

 Prayers and a Priesthood Blessing

Norma, a devout Mormon, asked elders from her church, Bishop Carperwitz and Brother Glade, to give Billy a blessing. Charlie, a non-practicing Catholic, didn’t subscribe to such things, but he also didn’t object. The two Mormon elders anointed Billy with sacred consecrated oil and—against all common sense—promised him that he would not lose his sight. Norma’s Mormon ward members held a special fast for Billy. His name was also placed in the Salt Lake Temple so that the faith and prayers of temple attendees could be offered in his behalf.

 A Miraculous Operation

The next day, Charlie and Norma were on a train to San Francisco—despite the fact that Norma had not fully recovered from her appendicitis. Within two days, Billy underwent the pioneering procedures. During the night before Billy’s surgery, while Norma knelt in prayer pleading for her baby’s sight, she had the most peaceful feeling come over her that all would be well. After three operations, Dr. Barkan was able to completely save Billy’s left eye, but he could not reverse the damage that had already occurred in the right eye. The right eye had perhaps 10% vision.

The timing of the discovery of Billy’s glaucoma was critical. A day or two earlier, and the second specialist in Salt Lake City would not yet have known about Dr. Barkan. The first specialist would have likely operated on Billy’s eyes, with irreversible temporary benefit. Billy would have gone completely blind. If the discovery had been a day or two later, it might have been too late for Dr. Barkan to save the vision in Billy’s left eye. The right eye was already too badly damaged.

The post-operation treatment for Billy’s eyes included nearly three years of followup. Initially, Billy was prevented from rubbing his eyes by putting small socks over his hands and pinning them to the bed. For the first several days, prescription eye drops had to be placed in his eyes every few hours round the clock. During the first year, follow-up evaluations required monthly trips from Salt Lake City to San Francisco. Charlie’s employer, the Southern Pacific Railroad, showed amazing compassion and transferred him to Salinas, California, about 100 miles south of San Francisco, which made getting to and from Dr. Barkan’s office much easier.

When Billy was 5-years old, he had his final check-up with Dr. Barkan. After a number of tests, the doctor told Norma, “Your baby is alright. He is not going to be blind.” “Oh, Dr. Barkan,” exclaimed a grateful and tearful mother, “thank you! I thank you so much for saving my baby’s eyes.” He replied, “I rejoice with every parent that I can say that I’ve saved their eyes. But I want you to know that a hand greater than mine guided me with this little boy.”

 Paying the Medical Costs

The costs of the surgery and follow-up were approximately $2,000, an enormous financial burden on a young family of five during war-time. In 1942, the railroad provided medical insurance for its employees, but not for their family members. So, Charlie found it necessary to borrow money from a bank and take out a loan against his life insurance policy in order to pay the hospital. Charlie didn’t have the money to pay the doctor’s fees. So, they entered a gentleman’s agreement: Charlie would pay something each month to the doctor, even if it was a small amount, until the fees were paid off, no matter how long it took.

While in Salinas, California, Charlie took on two part-time jobs in addition to his full-time, 44-hour per week employment so that he could make the payments on the loans and to the doctor. One job was during the evenings, eight hours a night, every other night at an ice plant moving 300-pound blocks of ice.
The other job was on Sundays and holidays. It was a second job with the railroad. At first, he helped lay and repair railroad track. Later, he was shifted to keeping their paycheck records.

 Charlie did the extra jobs for about 15 months.

 He was later transferred by the railroad back to Salt Lake City and then to Butte, Montana. It took a number of years to fully pay off Billy’s medical costs, but Charlie did it and met all his commitments. In the end, it turned out to be an amazing investment.

Legally blind in one eye, but with full vision in the other, Bill grew up to be an internationally recognized scholar, researcher, and writer. In fact, he became one of the world’s leading authorities on Mormon history and western migration to the Great Salt Lake Valley.

And, with one good eye, Bill helped steer a majestic tall ship across the Atlantic Ocean, climbed the ship’s riggings, swabbed the deck, stood watch, and provided leadership for nearly two dozen volunteer “crew trainees.” If the crew would have known that he was blind in one eye, they might have dubbed him a pirate and asked him to wear an eye patch to look the part. In reality, even with only one good eye, “Miracle Bill” was more like the wise old sea captain who has seen—and experienced—more of the grandeurs and blessings of God than most people could ever dream of.


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Written by James E. Hartley. Adapted from autobiographical oral histories of Charles Alton Hartley, Jr. and Norma Miner Hartley, interviewed and recorded by their son, William G. Hartley, along with input from the writings and musings of “Miracle Bill” himself. Bill reviewed and approved this account.

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 Photo Acknowledgements

 • http://www.ldschurchnewsarchive.com/media/photos/2001/5023.jpg
• https://www.sailonboard.com/vessel/europa/
• http://www.sailingshipadventures.com/index.cfm?event=GetVesselDetails&VesselID=80
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Europa_(ship)#/media/File:SV_Europa_barque_2007-07.jpg
• https://unionice.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/1942.jpg
• http://l7.alamy.com/zooms/40fd3e022ccf4a4dbe7cdfbe363dd3b3/high-angle-view-of-men-working-on-railroad-tracks-jwantm.jpg


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Monday, November 7, 2016

My Uncle Chuck Hartley - Asthma and Divine Intervention

My father, Jim Hartley, recently took a trip up to Montana to visit his brother Chuck (my uncle). While there, Jim had the opportunity to interview Chuck. Jim got some additional information and updated a great family story about Chuck's asthma and near death as a child. I first shared this story based on another account on November 2016, and I have included it at the very bottom here. Directly below is the "updated" version and is my father Jim's own words:

Charles A. Hartley, III: Little Charlie’s Asthma and Divine Intervention

Grandma Norma Hartley & "Little Charlie"
(My Uncle Chuck) - About 1936 
It was 1938. A new recession had complicated America’s efforts to recover from the Great Depression. At that time, a young family, Charles and Norma Hartley, with their first child, 18-month old Little Charlie, felt fortunate to rent a small, one-bedroom unit that was part of a duplex in southeast Salt Lake City, Utah.

In the duplex’s other half were Mr. and Mrs. Charles Buckle, the owners of the property. Norma loved Mrs. Buckle and regarded her like a second mother. Mrs. Buckle was an earnest follower of the Christian Science faith.

Across the street were Mr. and Mrs. George Glade and their six children. George was the co-owner of the Glade Candy Company. The more Charles and Norma got to know the Glades, the more they thought they were the ideal family. Like Norma, the Glades were devout Mormons—members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Little Charlie was a bright, lively child. But, almost from the time of his birth, he suffered from serious asthma and allergies. Seeking medical help, they took Little Charlie to a highly-recommended doctor named Dr. Blood. That doctor required an expensive $10 payment up-front for each visit. Charles and Norma sarcastically referred to his fees as “Blood money.” When Dr. Blood failed to help the baby, they found another doctor, Dr. Ross. He was very compassionate toward Little Charlie, because he too suffered from asthma. After numerous tests, Dr. Ross identified that the baby was allergic to many things, including cow’s milk, wheat, and egg whites. So, Little Charlie was put on a special diet that included goat’s milk, rice, and oatmeal instead. His allergic condition improved dramatically, but he still suffered from periodic bouts with severe asthma.

One day, Little Charlie’s asthma turned alarmingly bad. He could barely breathe and he wouldn’t eat or drink. Norma had to carry her suffering child upright in her arms in order for him to even steal gasps of air. Norma became desperate and telephoned Dr. Ross. He quickly visited their home and gave Little Charlie an adrenalin shot, but it had no effect.

Mrs. Buckle came from next door to help Norma. They took turns holding and calming Little Charlie. Seeing the baby’s worsening condition, they felt they needed divine intervention. Mrs. Buckle suggested that her Christian Science practitioner could help.
As a devout Mormon, Norma knew that special blessings for the sick could be given by elders of her church, but she was hesitant to contact them because her husband was not a Mormon, and she didn’t know whether he would approve.

Grandpa Charles Hartley, Little Charlie, and Norma
About 1940
After Charles got home from work that evening, he was shocked to see his little son wheeze and battle for breath. Norma informed him of everything that she and Mrs. Buckle had done, the visit by the doctor, and the ineffective injection of adrenalin. She then asked Charles if he would be willing to let her call the Mormon elders for a priesthood blessing on the baby. To her great relief, Charles agreed. Norma quickly contacted her neighbor, George Glade. George’s father-in-law happened to be visiting. Both men were ordained elders in the Mormon Church. The two came to the house and gave Little Charlie a priesthood blessing. Their administration was in accordance with the instruction of the Apostle James that is recorded in the New Testament: “Is any sick among you? Let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: and the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up…” (James 5:14-15). 

After their administration, George Glade and his father-in-law returned home. George described to his family how dire Little Charlie’s condition was, and stated that he doubted whether the baby would survive the night.

After the elders left, Norma and Charles alternated holding and comforting their infant son. Soon, Little Charlie said weakly, “I’m hungry.” Surprised and hopeful, they gave him a glass of goat’s milk. Within a few minutes, the baby began to vomit, expelling large amounts of suffocating mucus. He then began to breathe freely. A little while later, Little Charlie again said that he was hungry. They brought him a small bowl of soup with rice crackers. Little Charlie successfully ate the tiny meal. His wheezing stopped and he drifted off to sleep. The potentially fatal asthma attack was gone.

The next day, the Glade children and several of their friends were on their way to school. They decided to stop by the house to inquire if Little Charlie had died during the night. Norma reassured them that he was very much alive. She invited them in. They saw Little Charlie in his highchair enjoying his breakfast and were amazed to see him so lively. 

Although he has continued to struggle from time to time with asthma and allergies, Little Charlie—now preferring the nickname, Chuck—has become a brilliant and talented individual. He has had a long and remarkable career in electronics that includes work with Stanford University’s linear accelerator, the Atomic Energy Agency of Brazil, and Taiwan’s Air Force. He developed a controller for purifying water in cooling towers that were used to protect large computer installations in the U.S., Germany, Wales, and England. He completed digital radio and telecommunications projects in nearly every state in the United States, and in many other countries, including Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Canada, Mexico, Argentina, and in Central America and the Caribbean islands.

At this writing, Chuck has lived more than 80 years, which is longer than all but one of his paternal Hartley ancestors. And, by his mother’s account, Chuck would never have had such a remarkable life had it not been for divine intervention when asthma nearly took his life when he was 18-months old.

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Adapted by James E. Hartley from autobiographical oral histories of Norma Miner Hartley and Charles Alton Hartley, Jr., both interviewed and recorded by their son, William G. Hartley. Chuck Hartley (Little Charlie) reviewed and approved of this account.
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Original version of the same story:

Norma Miner Hartley (Haymond), my grandmother, passed away in 1992. In 2014, many Hartley's held a 100th "birthday celebration reunion" to remember her and recognize her life. At the reunion, a booklet with many stories and biographical information about her was given out. It was written by a few of my uncles and is available in its entirety on FamilySearch.org. I want to share one particular story from this booklet that has helped strengthen my faith in the power of the priesthood and its healing powers. When the story references, "Mom," it is referring to my grandma Norma Miner Hartley (Haymond).  Below is the story from the booklet:

"Charles Alton Hartley III was born [...] 1936 in Holy Cross Hospital [Salt Lake City, Utah]. In those days they kept mothers in the hospital ten days after bearing a child. Little Chuck was an asthmatic baby and Mom said “he was my first baby and so I didn’t know what to do.” Because of the Depression, to visit the doctor she had to have ten dollars in hand to get in the door. That doctor didn’t know what caused Chuck’s problems but made Mom feel it was her negligence. The next doctor was an asthmatic himself so diagnosed that Chuck could not have milk, flour, or eggs, or house dust. Chuck went on goats' milk, rice cakes, and oatmeal instead of wheat, and he began to snap out of it. But when he had an asthma attack, it’d be terrible.

When Chuck was about 18 months old, he had an asthma attack that the doctor’s adrenaline shot couldn’t stop. After work, Dad saw how bad Chuck was, so he agreed to Mom’s request to have elders bless Chuck. About then two sets of friends came by, and saw how bad Chuck was. Chuck could keep nothing in his stomach, even water. Mom had to walk and carry him for “If I laid him down he’d just gasp for air and go almost blue.” After the elders administered to Chuck, Dad finished dinner and then took a turn with Chuck. Chuck suddenly said “I’m hungry.” Dad gave him a drink of goats' milk and Chuck threw up everything, including terrible mucous that was in his throat. After that, he soon said “I’m still hungry,” so they fed him soup with rice crackers. He held that down, then went to sleep and stopped wheezing.


Friends came back and couldn’t believe Chuck made it. Children next door came by the next morning to the porch. “Mrs. Hartley, did Chuck die?” they asked. “We heard our Daddy say he didn’t think that the little boy would live through the night.” Mom invited them in to see Chuck eating in his high chair. Mom said: “And everyone said they couldn’t believe what they had seen. So the power of the priesthood. So Dad, after that, whenever any of you were sick, he always let me call in the elders.”
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Friday, October 21, 2016

From My Grandma Frye - "My Faith in Prayers"

Elizabeth Annie West Frye
1912 - 1993
With Halloween approaching soon, this seems like a fitting experience to share from my Grandma Frye because it mentions ghosts and goblins. In reality, this isn't about Halloween, but rather it is one of her autobiographical records entitled "My Faith in Prayers." I don't know exactly when this was written, but I enjoyed my Grandma Frye's words and her faith. It has helped strengthen my faith in prayer and how it can be a source of comfort and guidance in times of need. Below are her words:

MY FAITH IN PRAYERS
Elizabeth W. Frye

From the time I was a young girl, I have been a great believer in prayer. I well remember to this day the times when I would be visiting our neighbor girls and would stay until dusk. Then I would have the quarter mile walk home and the fear of goblins or ghosts or other unknown things, and I would race toward home as fast as my legs would carry me, and always with a prayer in my heart that I would be safe from any harm. It was bad enough to have to face my parents after I arrived home and to be reprimanded for being so late in getting home. But my fear of goblins was even greater.

I attended college at the University of Wyoming during the depression years from 1929 to 1933. God and his angels were probably overworked listening to all my prayers. I graduated in the spring of 1933 and obtained a teaching job in a rural school up in the mountains of Wyoming near Laramie. There was a family with two young daughters. The man and his wife were homesteading on some land up in the mountains at an elevation of about 7,500 ft.

I was warned about the loneliness I would experience up in the mountains, and about all the disadvantages of living there. I would have about a two-mile walk from a ranch at the foot of the mountain up to the small frame home of the homesteaders. If and when I wanted to go to Laramie for food and other necessities, I would have to walk about two miles down the hill to the neighbors and ride to town with them. After returning back to their ranch, I would visit with them as long as I dared, before the sun went down.

In order to find the school or the home, I would have to walk on a straight course up the mountain to the plateau. I had to watch for a ridge of rocks about a foot high, and a quarter mile long, over to my right. That was my only guide to show I was on course. After I passed the ridge of rocks, I was on my own and had to go by feel in regard to the distance travelled. There was absolutely nothing to use as a guide after that.

One evening after returning from my trip to Laramie, I stayed a little later than I should have, visiting with the ranchers. It was almost dusk when I started back to my place of abode on the plateau. While I had been gone to town, there had been a light snowfall on the mountain. I watched for the ridge of rocks but couldn't see it. I was afraid it was covered with snow. I felt I had gone far enough to see it. Now what was I going to do? The darkness seemed to be coming on earlier than usual, and here I had just started out. I knew I needed help, and fast. I felt I had often leaned too heavily on the Lord and hated to turn to Him now when it was my own fault because I had started home too late. I felt I must go on, but I did have a prayer in my heart. I looked again to my right and saw something darker than the rest of the snow. It was the ridge of rocks, peaking out of the snow and barely visible! I must hurry on, as darkness comes on swiftly in the mountains.

My footsteps quickened, even though I was going uphill all the way. Now I had no guideposts along the way—only my sense of feeling for distance travelled. I didn't trust it now but hurried on. When I felt I had walked far enough to see the schoolhouse, I saw nothing but a white expanse clear over to the horizon. The prayer in my heart now became audible, and I prayed fervently that I would find the schoolhouse. But it was painted white, and the snow was white! Should I go back to the ranch or should I go on? The people at the ranch had probably gone to bed by now, and there would be no light to guide me. No, I must go on. There were no other homes for miles around. I was a lone traveler, and God would have to be my pilot if I made it.

Again, I prayed fervently, knowing that God does hear and answer our prayers. He had proven Himself in the past. But my prayers were now in the form of pleading. But I did have faith. Again, I scanned the horizon and the terrain all around. Off in the distance I saw something even whiter than snow, but it was so far away. It was on the horizon. Could I walk that long a distance to see what it was?

In the past, I had many prayers answered as a child. Would God answer them again if I pleaded? Then the scripture came to my mind that said, "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct thy path." (Proverbs 3:5,6). Even though the very white object on the horizon seemed far away, I felt I should walk toward it. It seemed so far at first, but after my prayer it seemed to move closer. It wasn't long until I was able to distinguish the form of a little white schoolhouse which seemed to move closer to me, and since then I have always called it "The blessed little white school-house."



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