Wilmer's Story

Sorry it's been a while since my last post.  It is summertime and my kids and grandkids from Texas and Nevada were here off and on for three weeks so it was hectic and busy.  But mostly it was wonderful to have them all together under one roof for meals, temple time, water park time, and lots and lots of game nights.

Now, back to the everyday.

I wanted to share some more stories from Grandma Bonnie's side of the family, the Burgess clan.
Our direct line ancestor was William Burgess, Sr. and then his son, William Burgess, Jr.  One of William Jr.'s brothers was Wilmer Burgess.  He would be my third great uncle.  These stories are from his life:

"My parents were William Burgess and Mariah Pulsipher.  I have five sisters, three brothers, three half brothers and one half sister."  (these half siblings are a result of polygamy.)  "My parents crossed the plains in 1848.  My father filled a mission to the Indians on the Snake River in 1854.

I was born on the first day of April, 1850 in Salt Lake City.  The place I was born is located on the corner of Fourth West and North Temple, where the Union Pacific Railroad Station is today.

When I was eight years old, I commenced to drive oxen for my father to bring rock for the Salt Lake Temple.  When I was nine I drove four oxen to my father's sawmill to what is now Park City.  At that time it was called Parley's Park.  All that summer I worked in the timber with my cousin George Burgess.  My cousin George made seven trips across the plains when he was nine or ten years old.  When I was twelve years old, my folks were called to Dixie to help build up that part of the country.  George and I drove three yoke of oxen in order to get our things all moved.

In the spring of 1863 we were called to the Pine Valley Mountains.  My father started a saw mill.  I helped with the lumber and logging until I was sixteen.  From then on I did a lot of rambling.  Part of the time I stayed on my uncle's farm.  I traveled around through Nevada and Arizona with pack horses. My traveling companions were Clint McLain, Charley Ely, and Billy Higby.  But McLain and myself were together the most of the time.

The year I was seventeen, I crossed Death Valley in California.  Twice the Mojave Indians tried to capture us, but we escaped.  We were near Las Vegas when this happened.  That summer we were traveling around, the Indians surrounded us but we escaped on our horses, as they had none.  We also saved six steers for the man we were working for that the Indians had stolen.

About this time, Frank Wooley was killed by the Indians.  These same Indians captured W. Levitt, and Ira Hatch, just before they tried to catch us.  The Indians sentenced them to death and when they were about to slay them, they asked if they could pray.  When permission was given, they knelt down and began to pray.  Before they were through with the prayer, about half of the braves were willing to let them go, and the other half wanted to kill them.  But the chief of the tribe took them in his tent and kept them guarded until morning.  Then they got them breakfast and set them free.  The Indians kept their horses and they had to walk a hundred miles to Las Vegas.

In Nevada we were working for Mr. Ely on his ranch rounding up cattle.  One day when I was out on a round up, I ran across some good looking rock, so I broke off some and took it to Mr. Ely to see what it was.  He was real interested.  He said, "If you will show me where these rocks came from, I'll give you a horse, saddle, and bridle."  At that time in my life, nothing was more important to me or any boy, than to own your own outfit, so I took Mr. Ely to the spot and you all know what it turned out to be, a great mine.  It was called the Ely mine and it produced lots of rich ore.  (The gold mining town of Ely was founded in 1868.  Now more noted for the large copper mine, gold and silver are still mined there.)

When I was eighteen I went back to Pine Valley to help father in the saw mill and getting out timber for the mill.  Father also had a contract to get timber out for the Tabernacle Organ and Pine Valley was the only place where white pine grew and was good for organ pipes.  In the fall I spent my time riding the range and running wild cattle into Bull Valley."

What great adventure stories.  I hope you will all share them with your kids, especially all the young boys in the extended family.  Next post I will continue Wilmer's incredible history.  Stay tuned!!