The history of Aaron Hill and Susannah Tonks was compiled by Daveen Hill Dye, great granddaughter, from a history written by Wendell H. Ransom in 1991 and from the Jobe Hill Journal written by Jobe Hill about 1904 and reprinted by James H. L. and Mary I. Lawler [Pedigree Referral Service Number 0090-756, Family History Library, Salt Lake City, Utah.] Quotes from the Jobe Hill Journal are in "italics," and spelling has been modernized for easier reading. Dates, etc., added by me, Daveen H. Dye, are in [ ].

Aaron Hill was born the first day of February in the year 1833 in the town of Willenhall, Stafford, England. On the map I [Wendell] found Stafford was about in the center of the Isle of Great Britain. He was the son of John Hill and Elizabeth Turner.

Aaron was married at the age of twenty-one in the year 1854 to Susannah Tonks. [daughter of Timothy Tonks and Ann Jones.] My mother said that according to one of her aunts, Aaron Hill acquired his wife and one or two children by winning a card game. The last statement is not verified by me, but is in the realm of all possibility, as there are listed on his family group sheet two children that were born before he was married. [H. Ray Hill, son of David Hill, said this really bothered him until he learned that this was legal and was a fairly common practice in those days in England.]

Aaron and Susannah were living on the second floor of a row of two story brick buildings when their first son, Jobe, made his entrance in their home. "During the first year of my existence I was very sickly being afflicted with both measles and smallpox and I lay for hours still and patient and my Grandfather Timothy Tonks suggested that because of my patience I ought to be called Jobe, otherwise no doubt I should have received the name of Aaron . . . I depend for this knowledge on what my parents told me in after years."

Aaron Hill and Susannah Tonks Hill were approached by the Elders of the Latter-day Saints Church and were converted. "My parents, like many others, gathered with the Saints, leaving relations in tears. When my father's brother, Thomas Hill, heard of his departure he ran several miles in a fruitless attempt to overtake and persuade Father to abandon what no doubt seemed a dreadful undertaking. We were afterwards told by acquaintances from there that Father's mother fretted even to the day of her death for her lost son." Although Aaron was the only one of the family that we have record of as joining the Church, he was the last one of the siblings that was sealed (in the Temple) to their parents.

"My father did not buy any tobacco hoping to be able to abandon it, you see, by so doing as he thought he would not be able to obtain any at sea. He stood the trial about two weeks and one day when the sailors asked him to help pull in on a rope he said he would gladly do so if they would be kind enough to give him a small bit of tobacco." That was the last time he tried to quit.

The journey to the land of America was quite eventful in a negative sort of way. "They had no water only what they took on board from shore before the ship sailed. Their food was sea biscuits and oatmeal gruel. They used to put the oatmeal in a sauce pan with water and carry it to a cook cabin and the male part of the passengers would cook the gruel in turns, that is about every 4th day."

"One day a man brought a saucepan full of oatmeal dumplings and Father thought they were lumps and he stirred and crushed them on the side of the pan till he made gruel out of them. When the man came and asked for his dumplings Father exclaims, 'Why bless me, man. I took them for lumpy gruel and I have been stirring this half hour and breaking the loomps'. Father often used to tell this little anecdote and smile."

The captain and crew had a special cabin in which they did their cooking. One day it accidentally caught on fire, and as salt water would make it worse, they had to use the drinking water that was already in short supply. The passengers were also called in to help put out the fire.

"One day as Father was descending the stair case that leads from deck to the state rooms below with a saucepan full of gruel in each hand he was thrown violently to the bottom of the stairs by the sudden movement of the ship and in his fall he drove a fork that he had in his hip pocket so deeply into his hip that it was with great difficulty and pain that it was removed, though fortunately the wound healed up with but very little trouble afterwards."

If I remember right, we landed at Boston. After passing the custom house we boarded the first train and a few days after arriving in New York my father found employment as a locksmith and we rented rooms on the first floor of a large brick building on 11th Street. I have often heard my father tell how one evening after my parents had been in bed a short time he heard a noise at the window. When he arose and looked through the bedroom door he saw a man's head protruding through the kitchen window, but before he left the bed the rickety old bedstead fell to the floor with a loud clatter and when Father looked again the head had disappeared from the window. When the shutters were examined the next morning, they showed signs of having been forced open."

[Some time later.] "Father obtained employment from a Mr. Kennedy and in order to be close to his work rented rooms in his house. This home was on Fifth Street between Second Avenue and the Bowery." At this time Aaron was working as a locksmith for Mr. Kennedy.

"About the month of October A. D. 1858 my mother had the pleasure of a visit from her youngest sister, Eliza, and her husband James Beeston, and being fast friends they rented rooms beside those we lived in. The young couple soon made pets of us children, not having any of their own."

"Father had been addicted to drinking in England and the habit became worse as he grew older and became the cause of great sorrow to my mother. Of course as we were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints we looked forward very earnestly to the time when we would gather with the Saints and my mother was very desirous of saving a few dollars to pay our emigration. She therefore plead with Father to stop drinking and put a little money in the bank, which he agreed to do, but the resolution was not of long duration for he went in a few weeks and drew the few dollars he had deposited and did not stoop drinking as long as it lasted."

"My parents were blessed with a bright little baby girl [in] 1859 which they blessed with the name of Elizabeth, and as she learned to talk and sing while yet very young she became a great favorite with my Aunt Eliza who took Elizabeth with her and thus the little unfortunate became well known, but her pleasure was but for a very brief period, for one Sunday when she was about three years old she was taken ill, and after suffering severely for three or more days she recovered in part, but she suffered from falling sickness till she died in the 15th year of her age."

"Another little stranger that was blessed with the name of Eliza Jennette appeared in our home [in] 1861 who also shared in the affection of Uncle James and Aunt Eliza Beeston. Indeed I believe that this good natured handsome little rosebud became in a short time much loved and favored by all who know her. I well remember one evening when this poor little unfortunate, while running over the floor in her play, stepped on a stove lid that had been laid on the floor that was so hot as to blister her little foot nearly all over the bottom. How sad we all felt as she weeped so bitterly and suffered such intense pain for over an hour."

"On the 25th day of May 1863 my brother Aaron James Hill was born and soon after we moved to Brooklyn and Uncle and Aunt went to live in a house that belonged to Mr. White, Uncle's foreman. When we returned to New York about the 1st of July Father rented a little cottage on 5th Street near the east side of the city."

"During the year 1861 the great Civil War began." In the year 1863 a call went out for an army of 600,000 men. Officers had been sent around and they had taken Father's name . . . and Father's only hope [of avoiding being drafted] was in emigrating." They were waiting for Susannah's parents, Timothy and Ann Jones Tonks, to come from England and join them in New York before they would leave for Utah. Such were the conditions when Aaron was able to meet the ship that brought his father and mother-in-law. [They sailed from London 4 June 1863 on the ship "Amazon" and landed in New York 18 July 1863. -Gen. Lib -6184 F 942 pt. 2 pg. 292]

"It was undoubtedly a great trial to my mother to start on such a long trip with a nursing baby and Eliza Jennette very sick and Elizabeth subject to falling sickness and her aged parents to care for besides."

They left New York on what is thought to be the Rock Island Railroad. The trip took them into Canada where they crossed the Niagara River in full view of the famous falls. "The train slowed up so we had a good look at the falls, although I believe that Mother did not enjoy the sight as she was so afraid for the bridge shook some with the weight of the heavy train. When we reached the first station in Canada we were put in box cars because the train had been fired on a time or two by Fenians. When we reached Detroit we were again allowed to ride in passenger cars."

The train stopped in Chicago and Aaron inquired as to how long they would be there. He was told that the train would be there twenty minutes. Along with some others, Aaron went to get some food. When they returned to the depot and found out that the train had left without them, it made them quite aggravated and a few choice words were uttered. The station master then put them on an express and in a short time they were able to be put on the train again with their families.

"As I said, when we left New York Eliza Jennette was very sick. It proved to be canker and diarrhea and she became much worse each day. I remember one day the train stopped for a few minutes and I saw from the platform of the car where I was standing a bunch of wild blackberries. I sprang off the steps and during the short time the train stood there I gathered a few blackberries. As soon as the train started again I ran and got on the cars again and carried the handful of berries and showed them to Mother. When poor little Jennette saw them, she reached out her little hand. They were the only thing she had eaten for a long time. I gave her all I had and wished I had more to give."

The railroad ended at St. Joseph, Missouri, and from there the company transferred to a river steamer going up the Missouri River to Florence, Nebraska. The river was too shallow at that time of the year and the closest that they could get was about four miles from town. The men on board the boat got off [to lighten the load] and walked to town where they waited for the steamer. It didn't show up and so they walked back and found that the river steamer still couldn't navigate in such shallow water.

The following morning "while playing on the river bank, my attention was suddenly attracted by a large number of white objects in the distance apparently gliding slowly along through the air . . . And when they drew near what was my surprise to see some 70 or 80 wagons with covers on drawn by from six to eight oxen on each wagon which was called a team. A man with a large whip with each team was called a teamster . . . The teamsters drove their teams one by one into a place where all the grass had been worn away by the wheels of the many wagons and feet of so many animals, for thousands of people were emigrating west each year. This place about six feet wide was called a road . . . Our company numbered I suppose in the neighborhood of 250 men, women and children. The captain, whose name was Orson Hyde, led the train to a place some 6 miles from the river where there was plenty of wood, water, and grass. The first half of the train was lead by the first captain to the right and second half by the second captain to the left, each forming a half circle by the first two teams stopping about 16 feet apart opposite each other so as to form an opening large enough to drive loose oxen in. The next two teams would stop with their front wheels close to, yet on the outside of hind wheels of the first two wagons, and thus they would continue to form one after another till all the wagons had stopped and enclosed a round yard for the teamsters to drive their oxen in to yoke them when they would be ready to draw the wagons away. This formation was called a camp. We remained in camp about 14 days while the ship returned to St. Joseph for the luggage of the company."

"While we were thus waiting my dear little sister, Eliza Jennette, passed away and poor Mother seemed as though she would never cease fretting. We had many sympathizing friends, one of whom made a small box out of a little rough lumber that he obtained in some mysterious way . . . we felt very grateful for it . . . Mother was not the only one that wept, for we all had tender recollections of the many loving playful little kind actions and in fact the whole beautiful character of the sweet little rose bud that had only been permitted to remain on earth the short space of two and one half years . . . It indeed seemed hard to leave her all alone on that wild prairie."

The luggage finally arrived and was loaded into the wagons. The wagon master then told the company that they would break camp the next morning to start on their journey westward. About 7 a.m. the following morning the Saints in the camp woke up to the sound of a bugle playing "Do What is Right." The first half of the wagon train was led to the road west by the first captain while the second half was led by the second captain.

"As we moved along we saw in the distance small cream white cottages, perhaps the homes of hardy frontiersmen, but these were fewer in number each day, and in a few days the only ones were stage stations and once in a great distance a government post. I suppose we traveled between 16 and 20 miles each day, but rested the teams on Sunday and had religious services."

After we were fairly out on the plains we came to and camped a number of nights on the shore of the Platte River which was very low. In order to get water that was in any way fit to use we had to dig in the sand, then it would run in all around the hole like a spring."

There were some small wild animals along the road, but most of the buffalo had been driven from the area by the large number of wagon trains that had been along before them. "There were some antelope killed and we obtained a little fresh meat. Our provisions consisted of bacon, flour, sugar, and tea. We cooked our bacon which was very fat, and afterwards made slap jacks and cooked them in the grease which made them rise and become quite light. These, with a little fruit once in a great while, were (all) I can remember of our food."

"One object that seemed to attract considerable attention was a large rock some miles ahead called Chimney Rock, for it appeared like an old fire place and chimney and it loomed up ahead of us for a number of days, but at last we passed by it."

"As we drew near to South Pass some snow fell on the distant hills and the nights were pretty cold, but large sage brush was plentiful and we made large fires at night. A day or two before we entered Echo Canyon we were met by James Shorten and Hannah, the oldest daughter of Wm. And Rachel Thacker (my uncle and aunt), but Mother would not leave the train though they had a horse team and would reach Salt Lake a day or two ahead of the oxen, but Mother preferred to stay with the small children. As our team was coming down Parleys Canyon the old wagon tipped over on a hillside with my sister Elizabeth in the wagon. Mother ran to the wagon and cut a hole in the wagon cover when Elizabeth crawled out through the hole unhurt. The cause of the tip was the tongue broke."

[The company arrived in Salt Lake 13 Oct. 1863 after two nights of weary traveling. -Timothy Tonks by Chloe Thacker Slade-DUP]

"As the opportunities to earn a living did not suit Father in Salt Lake the traveled up to Logan in Cache Valley, and as Ben Lloyd was coming to Salt Lake, Father employed him and a team to move us to Logan. He had two oxen and a covered wagon."

They lived in a rented house the first winter they were in Logan. During the winter Aaron acquired a lot in the northwest part of town and in the spring he was able to procure some logs which were used to build a one room log house. It was the first home that Aaron ever owned. They lived in this little home for about a year and then Aaron heard that two little towns northwest of Bear River were being settled. He went with some friends to see them and evidently liked them as he sold his home in Logan and acquired a place in Clarkston, where the Bishop was T. J. Clark. There was no bridge over the Bear River and the way they crossed was to take the wagon apart and cross the river in a skiff. After all the pieces were taken across the river the wagon was reassembled.

"The next day we reached Clarkston which could boast at that time of only one house with only brush for a roof, a half dugout, and a meeting house up to the square with no roof."

Aaron made arrangements to water and harvest about twenty or twenty-five acres of wheat for some of the neighbors in Clarkston and they should have done fairly well if an early frost had not come and destroyed the grain. This left the family pretty destitute during the Winter of 1865-66.

Aaron Hill and his neighbors took their teams or yoke of oxen and went up in the hills west of town to get logs to make their homes out of. The little log house was built and "Father had only time to put dirt on the roof and mud up the cracks between the logs when the snow and wind began."

"Some time in the forepart of September we heard that Aunt Eliza Beeston was in Logan and we hurried up and got ready and Father coupled the wagon together" and they made the trip to Logan, crossing the Bear River with difficulty because of high water. They had a joyful meeting there with relatives. "After remaining a few days at Logan we returned home."

"It was only a few days after our return when there came a cold rainstorm and it was followed by a sharp frost which killed all the wheat and corn and the vines of the potatoes . . . We suffered badly from cold and hunger that winter . . . The cold weather set in early and was very severe and as we, that all the inhabitants of the little town, were all alike, none having raised anything, all having been froze, therefore we were all unable to help each other."

"My father was so badly discouraged that he overlooked much that he may have done to help us endure the cold snowy winter of 1865-66, but the only thrasher brought to the town by some of its people was an old worn out machine too old to run with any profit to its owners. The people stet it in one place and hauled the wheat to it . . . A widow who I afterwards lived with said if my father had managed better we would not have suffered as much as we did, for he had one stack of oats that would of thrashed at least 150 bushels which would have brought him at least 75 dollars which would have bought us all clothes and shoes, but the winter set in early and I with the other children was poorly clad, no shoes and our clothes before spring were so full of patches that we could not tell what kind of stuff they were made of."

To obtain food this cold winter the Bishop of the ward along with six other men, including Aaron Hill, took their yoke of oxen and went to Logan for food. One yoke of oxen led the way and the others followed. As soon as the lead yoke of oxen was too tired, the next team in line would take the lead to break the trail through the snow and the yoke of oxen that had been in the lead would now be the last in line.

"Another addition to our family was made and blessed with the name Annie Hill." [Anne Hill-20 March 1866.]

"In the month of June news came that a large band of Indians was coming towards Cache Valley and we were all told to move into the large settlements. Therefore we spent the fourth of July in Smithfield."

"In July of 1866 my father began working for Bishop Roskelly . . . Father traded his land and lot in Clarkston for a single room log house and two lots a short distance northwest of Smithfield. This our new home was about 14 by 16 feet. Inside there was an adobe chimney and a small window in the west side and the door was in the south end 4 or 5 feet from the southeast corner."

At Smithfield Aaron worked at farming at least some of the time and would farm and harvest the grain on shares. "About this time the grasshoppers came and ate up the crops. I have seen the insects so thick that they would darken the sun. It became necessary for Father to go away and work for food. He and Uncle Wm. Thacker, with a bundle on each of their backs of clothing to sleep in, started for Salt Lake Valley in search of employment."

"It's often said that trials strengthen our faith, but it seemed as though it had an opposite effect upon my father, for his dealings in the course of time with Bishop Roskelly seemed to cause feelings of an unpleasant nature that my father, I'm sorry to say, did not try to have made right. During the winter of the years 1866-67 my father worked for Roskelly and I believe received only one dollar per day and that in produce that at the time was sold so high that these low wages were not enough to pay for one half of the necessaries of life for his poor family, and this may have had its effect."

It was while they were living at Smithfield that their youngest child, David Hill, was born on the 6th day of June in the year 1868. [Grandfather of Wendell H. Ransom and Daveen Hill Dye.]

"My father sometime in the early spring had been obliged to travel in search of employment and July had now passed and we had not heard from him. My mother and one of our nearest neighbors by the name of Elizabeth Thornton became very intimate acquaintances and my mother told Lizzy one of her dreams and was very sad, for she said that something bad was going to befall either her husband or herself, and she used to fret a great deal on account of Father's absence and express fears that he would not return alive."

"She was also troubled with softening of the brain and would go into a strange stupor and stand and look strangely around her for she would forget all that she knew and who she was and seem completely lost . . . In a short time Mother became so ill that she was unable to remain out of bed. In a short time the news spread and a few of the neighbors voluntarily did all they could in the way of nursing her and caring for the children. Elizabeth Thornton was a very careful attendant, caring for and watching over Mother almost night and day and as a result I could not help feeling a great dial of respect for her."

"I was kept moving all the time . . . My first work was weaning David, my youngest brother, who was a baby, and he became so attached to me that he clung to and cried after me as if I had been his mother. I was also obliged to cook for and otherwise care for Annie who was only three years old, Elizabeth, James and myself, in addition to all errands I had to run."

"In a short time it became apparent that a doctor was indispensable. One of our neighbors took his team to Logan and got a Swedish doctor and I was sent to different parts of the town in search of an interpreter which I succeeded in finding. On the following day about 8 p.m. I was given Bro. Wilber's horse team and told to return with the doctor to his home at Logan. For a short time after the doctor had been (there) Mother seemed to improve, then she became very ill again."

"About the 10th of September 1869 my dear mother delivered her last kind message to me. I was told to come in as she had something important to say especially to me, and whin I stood by the bedside she said, 'My son, when your father comes home tell him to take yourself and all the other children down to the Endowment House in Salt Lake City and first get one of my nearest blood relations to act proxy for me and thus have me sealed to him, and then get all you children sealed to us both.' She then told me not to forget as she was going to leave me, and this brought the tears to my eyes and I turned away as I exclaimed, 'Why, Mother, you are not going to die and leave us,' when she said, 'Yes, my son, I have to go. Therefore, be a good boy. Tell your father what I have told you'. I suppose this was the saddest night any young eyes had ever seen as it seemed as though the kindest and dearest friend on earth to me was in the cold embrace of death, and the sad condition of myself and motherless little sisters and brothers seemed to loom up before my mind making me feel wretched in the extreme."

One of the neighbors sent a telegram message to Susannah's sister, Eliza Beeston, that if she wanted to see her sister alive she must come right away as Susannah was expected to be dead in a matter of a few days.

"My Aunt Eliza Beeston and husband arrived from Salt Lake City on the 11th, and out of respect for her the neighbors repaired to their several homes, leaving Aunt in charge of my mother."

"About noon on the 12th my father arrived home and we learned that he had been at work on the Central Pacific Railroad cutting wood, and had heard nothing from home till he reached Clarkston on his way home. He was told that my mother lay at the point of death and he had walked from Clarkston that forenoon."

"We had sent for the Elders of the Church a number of times and everything had been done that it seemed possible to do to save her and still my mother grew worse."

"The day after my father returned home, I remember he went to Benjamin Lloyd and had a chat with him on the condition Mother was in. Ben's words were 'I would advise you to get a quorum of twelve Elders and let them gather around the bed in a circle and administer to her and each one be mouth in turn until all had prayed the Lord that if she was not consigned to death to give her back health and strength, as he firmly believed this to be all that could be done for her. [When they came] one of the elders earnestly prayed our Heavenly Father that if my dear mother was not consigned to death that He would speedily restore her to full health again, and if it was His desire to take her that He would soon do so and end her awful suffering. One of the elders then said, 'Do you want us to administer to you?' And she replied in the affirmative. Then one of them anointed her and one by one they administered and all of them standing in a circle around her bed laid their hands on her. From this time till the day on which Mother died, which was on the 15th day of September 1869, all I remember is that Elizabeth Thornton took me and the little ones home and Hannah Shorten watched her."

"It was understood that Mother had made a present of my younger brother, David, the baby that I had weaned, to my Aunt Eliza Beeston and I even now am unable to express my sad feelings as she received him weeping from my arms, for he turned and cried, holding his little arms out to me pitifully, and I turned away to hide the tears that filled my eyes."

"During the two weeks of my mother's sickness my sister, Elizabeth, did not have any bad spells of falling sickness or fits, but not many weeks after Mother's death Elizabeth had a number of fits the violence of which were far worse than any she had ever had. I used to sit and hold her and pray the Lord to either restore her to health or take her out of her misery." [Elizabeth died 4 April 1873.]

"In the early spring of the year 1870 my father and James Shorten took a sawmill on shares to run and Father also took 3 acres of land which he planted with wheat, and one acre that I planted with corn, besides the two lots that we had planted in potatoes and corn at home."

Aaron married a third time about 1893 to a woman by the name of Bertha Tobler and they were the parents of two sons, [William Martin Tobler Hill - 10 Apr 1894 and John Edwin Hill - 15 Aug 1896].

Aaron Hill died on the 7th day of April in the year 1896 at Smithfield, Cache Valley, Utah.

This is James Levere Hill, great grandson of Aaron Hill, born in England, came to the United States and settled up in Smithfield, Cache County, Utah. I got this story from my father, Aaron James Hill, who is the son of Aaron Hill. It was handed down through the family.

It seems that Aaron Hill over there in England one night was playing poker and he won a man and the man never had any money to pay the bill, so he gave Aaron Hill his wife to pay the bill. That was Susannah Tonks, and Aaron Hill brought Susannah Tonks over from England and settled down in Smithfield.

As the story goes from my father, he was a locksmith by trade, and a very good locksmith. One time the bank at Logan lost the key to the big vault. They came down and asked granddad if he could make a key for the vault. He said, "Sure." He went down there and looked the vault over. He asked the banker for the combination. The banker said, "Oh, I can't give you that combination. You'll just have to do without it." "Oh," Granddad said. "That's all right. I can get by." He made a key and put it in the lock, gave a little turn, then he turned the tumblers, listened to it with his ear up close to the door and finally heard it click, then he turned the key back the other way and turned the tumblers again. He did that three or four times and the door flew open. The banker was really amazed that he could open the door without the combination. "Oh," Granddad said. "I didn't need that. I'm a locksmith. I can get into any lock."

Another time they were holding their church services in the school house. The school board member decided they didn't want the Mormons to use the school house for church any more, so they put a lock on the door. Sunday morning they went to church. The door was locked. They came down to Aaron's house and said, "Aaron, they've got a lock on the door. I wonder if you could open it for us." "Oh," he said. "I believe I can," so he went and got some tools. They went up there, and in a few minutes they had the lock undone. The next week they went back to church and it was locked again. They came down and said, "Aaron, can you come and unlock the door again?" "Yes," he said, "I believe I can." So he went up and he unlocked the door. Then they got worried whether they could get sued for getting into the school house. They went to Logan and got a lawyer and talked to him and told him what had happened and wanted to know if there was any danger of getting sued. The lawyer said, "Did you break anything?" They said no, they didn't break anything, they had a locksmith that opened it. "Well, I can't see that they can do anything about that. Go ahead and hold church. The next week they went to church and it was locked again with a great big heavy duty lock. They came down and got Granddad to open it again. "Well," the school board member said. "We can't seem to keep that old man out, so I guess we might just as well leave the door open," so they didn't lock it any more.

There was another time that a man in the area was out mowing his hay. He had a cast steel pitman stick, and he broke it. He went in to the blacksmith shop to see if they'd weld it for him. The blacksmith said, "No, I can't weld that. That's cast iron." He tried to weld it and couldn't make it hold. He threw it down on the floor and said, "There's your old pitman stick. I told you I couldn't weld it." Just then Aaron walked by the door. The guy saw him and hollered at him, "Hey, Jimmy (they called Aaron Hill Jimmy), can you weld this for me?" Granddad walked in and looked at it and said, "Yes, I think I can weld it." The blacksmith said, "You can't weld that. That's cast iron. You can't weld cast iron in a forge." Granddad said, "I think I can weld it." Well," the blacksmith said. "If you think you can do it there's the forge. Hop to it." Granddad went over and the first thing he did, he pulled the fire out of the forge, cleaned all the ashes, cleaned all the coals, everything, cleaned it right out clean, then built him a new fire. He put the pitman stick in and started heating it up. The blacksmith hollered and said, "Old man, there's tools and the rosin's there on the shelf. Help yourself." Granddad didn't say anything. He just went ahead and got the pitman stick good and hot. When he got it where he wanted it he took it out of the forge, and welded it together. He laid it down and let it cool far a little while, finally picked it up and laid it across the anvil, picked up a big sledge hammer and smacked the end of it, hit it a couple of times. It held. He walked over and handed it to the man and said, "Here's your pitman stick. Go ahead and cut your hay." The blacksmith said, "Hey, man, do you want a job in here?" "No," Granddad said. "I'm not a blacksmith." "Well," the blacksmith said, "maybe not, but you sure make us guys feel ashamed of ourselves that are blacksmiths." "Well," Granddad said, 'you made a mistake on that iron. It's not cast iron. It's cast steel, and the reason why you couldn't make the weld on it is because you got dirt in it. I don't know where the dirt came from. That's why I pulled the fire out and built my own fire. That's why I didn't use all your tools, and that's why I didn't use your rosin, because I didn't want to get dirt in it."

Another time they were right in the middle of the cutting of their wheat. They were using the header and they broke the main drive wheel. Aaron went down to Logan to the parts house. He said, "Can I get a new wheel for my header?" The guy said, "Good golly, no." Aaron said, "I've got to have one." "Well," he said, "we'd have to send back to the factory to get one made. Time they'd get it made, get it machined, get it shipped out here, it'd take a year." "Well," Granddad said, "I haven't got that long to wait. I've got to get my grain cut." So he went back home and told the boys, "I want you to go down along the river bank and load up some sagebrush. Get several loads of 'em. Bring 'em up." So they went and got some sagebrush and brought it up. He built a fire, put the header wheel in the fire and got it hot, and made a weld on it. To make sure that it would hold he took a piece of scrap iron he had and bent it around the wheel, then he went over to his hay rake and took a tine out of the hay rake and put that in the fire and heated it up and twisted it around and made him a drill bit. Then he went back over and drilled some holes in that flat iron, drilled holes through the drive wheel, then took some bolts and bolted it together, then he welded the bolts. Dad told me that when they discarded the header that drive wheel was still running, years after he fixed it.

I guess Aaron was a little bit hot headed guy. He got mad in a hurry, then he got over it just about as fast. One day he was out harnessing his horses. He walked up to this one horse and went to put the harness on and the horse moved a little bit and stepped on his toe. That made Aaron pretty unhappy. He ran up to the head of the wagon, picked up his neck yoke, he came back to the horse like he was going to beat it to death. He walked right up to the horse. "------------- , I can't see why," turned around and laid the neck yoke down and never did hit the horse. He was all over it.

My dad just loved Aaron Hill. He thought he was one of the greatest guys that ever lived. Aaron Hill had a cabin not too far from where my dad was. He used to go out in the evening time and just sit on the side of the cabin. He would sing songs to them, tell them jokes, tell them poems, and play with them. He thought that Grandpa was the greatest guy that ever lived. Now there are stories around that Aaron Hill wasn't too good, but my dad thoroughly loved him. That's all I can say about Aaron Hill.

I've heard my dad tell this story a number of times and I know the story is true because my dad told it and my dad always told the truth.

I hope that whoever hears this tape will enjoy some of the stories I've related on it for they are true. My dad told the story and he was a true man. Everything he told me In believe.