WILLIAM more Stories

My parents were humble, righteous, 'Salt of the earth' people who loved the LORD and their families. They were strong pioneers and believed in being the best they could be.

Dad served in the military and fought in World War I. The only thing I can remember him saying about his time in the service, was that he was on a ship headed to  France when the Armistice was signed and the ship turned around and headed back home.  He was disappointed because he really wanted to  see parts of Europe.
One day Dad asked my sisters and me to help him set some fence posts in cement, as he was either building or repairing a fence.  We were goofing off in the house and forgot about the fence. An hour later, we remembered and raced out to the field where he was working. We thought for sure this time he would be angry with us.  When we reached him we apologized profusely. He wasn't angry, in fact I never saw my father get angry, never.  He had found some large rocks to brace the posts until the cement hardened. Dad believed life was too short to waste on anger.

Dad needed to sell  our livestock and so we never killed any of them for  food with the exception of our chickens. Mother killed one each Sunday, she was a very strong woman- none of us was willing to do that. We killed a deer for venison each fall for our meat. In Idaho at the time to go on a deer hunt you needed to put your name (age 16 or over) in the draw.  Dad put in his, mom's, and my name each year. My name was drawn two years in a row.  You can imagine how happy a sixteen year old was to get up in the middle of the night, tromp through snow in freezing cold and wait for sun up to find the deer. I didn't complain, not out loud anyway, as my Aunt Jane was always with me. She was like all my dad's siblings, always telling funny stories, always laughing. I loved being with her. Dad would  dig us a small snow cave and with our hot chocolate and laughter the time passed quickly.  Now I had to learn to shoot a 22 rifle and so Dad and I practiced shooting at fence posts. I was finally able to at least hit the target somewhat respectable.  While I was willing to hold the rifle, there was no way I was willing to draw a bead on any living thing. Dad shot our deer and immediately handed me the rifle, just in case a Game Warden was near by.  My cousin Thales (we were the same age and he also had the permit) wanted to shoot his own deer. He was Aunt Jane's son and it was o.k. with her. He wanted to use a 30.06 rifle and both my Dad and Uncle Wesley told him it was too powerful and had a mean kick.  They said the 22 rifle was plenty of firepower. He didn't listen and when he pulled the trigger, it knocked him on his  behind.  As soon as we knew he was o.k. I laughed and told him you should listen to your elders, then Aunt Jane and I laughed some more; it was the look on his  face.

Dad was a good hunter and an excellent fisherman. He could catch the  fish with his bare hands, there is an art to it.  We spent many hours with him and Mom fishing. Mom didn't fish but read while we walked up and down the streams looking for a good fishing hole, mostly we just caught a good sunburn. We all learned to love being in the great outdoors.

WILLIAM H. RICE (DAD)

William Hyrum Rice (Dad) was born July 23. 1891 in Naf, Idaho. He was the  oldest child of Nathaniel Able and Alice Jane Rice. Dad was only 13 years of age when his father died due to  being struck by the hoof of a horse that reared just as Grandpa was leading him through a gate.  Dad was immediately thrust into adulthood. He took over most of the ranching duties and soon left home  to herd sheep  to help  my Grandma pay the taxes on the ranch. Dad continued the occupation of a sheep herder for most of my early childhood, and returned home  for the final  time when he became the bus driver for the Almo Elementary School.  I remember  going to his sheep camp a couple of times when  I was still quite young. I thought it was a fun place. He lived in a type of covered wagon  only sturdier, with a stove in it to cook his meals. We children played with the dogs, chased the little lambs until the mother Ewes chased us and just had a fun time. I had no idea how lonely his life must have been, being isolated for weeks at a time.
Dad and his faithful dogs (I think there was more than one) had to spend many a night fighting off coyotes, cougars, and an occasional  bear. When dad came home to see us, he always traveled at night. He would tell us stories of some of his more harrowing trips.  He said he could always tell when a mountain lion (cougar) was following him by the way his horse was acting. One time a cougar got close enough that dad could see his eyes glowing in the dark. It spooked his horse and dad had to calm the horse long enough for him to fire a shot into the air to scare away the big cat. Mountain lions never scared dad, but bears were a different story.  He always had his rifle with him for protection.
Dad was the most friendly, happy person I have ever known. He was so friendly that no matter where he went to  buy something, he was on a first name basis immediately. Dad  believed everyone was inherently decent and when we pointed out that some people are just plain evil, his response was always the same, they were good people who just got a 'bum rap' in life. My brothers could never convince him that some of our neighbors would purposely pay less for dad's livestock when he sold them. He insisted they thought it was an honest offer at the time.
One morning a sheriff came to our ranch with a picture of an escaped convict and asked my dad if he had seen this man. Dad said "yes, he was here last night and we gave him something  to eat and told him he could sleep in the barn".  The sheriff was dumbfounded and said "you don't want to be taking in strangers, that is a dangerous man". Dad and Mom always fed someone who was hungry, even if it meant we ate less, besides, he thought that fellow was pleasant  enough.  It clearly frustrated the sheriff and he warned my parents, "if you see him again, you lock your doors and windows. We never had a lock on  any door nor  on any windows.  We didn't see him again, but there was no doubt he would be given food if we had seen him.  The convict was caught hiding in the City of Rocks, which is now a state or national park. I was a teenager at the time, and some friends and I had been climbing the 'rocks' the night before he, the convict, was caught.  We children were not afraid  of strangers because our parents were not. When the ranch became too much for my parents, they moved to Logan, Utah to care for some apartments my brother and sister-in-law owned. They were directly across the street from the Logan Temple, we could sit out front and marvel at the Temple. My parents didn't lock their doors in Logan either until we insisted on  it.

RICE FAMILY PICTURE (beginning of blogs)

The header picture is a picture of my Father, William Hyrum Rice, my Mother, Ida  Lily Tracy Rice and my oldest sibling my sister Audrey Rice Olsen.

REBECCA HARRIS

Rebecca was born in Nauvoo, Illinois to Emer Harris and Polly Chamberlain. Rebecca was just 3 years old when her mother Polly died and she came across the plains with her father and grandfather, Soloman Chamberlain. Rebecca had to walk part of the way and helped the Saints gather 'buffalo chips' to build the fires when they stopped to set up camp. The family moved to Provo, Utah living in very primitive conditions. They pretty much lived in a dugout with a fireplace but no windows. They slept in the wagons. When someone got a fire started, others would come and get some of the coals to start their fires, as starting fires was not always easy.
One of the hardships Rebecca endured was having to go barefoot a lot as she didn't have shoes. She left a bloody trail, especially in the snow from her battered feet. One day a neighbor boy was playing with and old discarded shotgun and told Rebecca he was going to shoot a cat. Rebecca grabbed the gun and it went off setting the wagon on fire. The neighbors all chipped in to help them build a cabin. One day Rebecca was alone in the cabin, she was about eight years old, when an Indian came into the cabin looking for food. She chased him out with a broom. He left as he was a friendly Indian.
The indians began to war among themselves and the Saints were ordered to move. They crossed the Provo River on a wooden plank bridge. Rebecca slipped off the bridge and fell into the water. A man holding a baby reached down and caught her hair then lifted her back upon the bridge. She held onto his coattail the rest of the way. The family then settled in Springville, Utah. Rebecca worked for a lady when she was quite young and the lady lived in the canyon. One day while walking there she heard a noise in the bushes, she turned and ran home. Later some of the men killed a black bear in that area.
Rebecca died at Lakepoint, Tooele, Utah at the age of 84.

WILLIAM JOSEPH TAYLOR

My great Grandfather was born just two years after the organization of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He heard about the Gospel while still young and was baptized. When the time came, he served a Mission in Ireland. He married his first wife Mary Bowring and they decided to move to the Salt Lake Valley. They set sail on the ship "Jersey" along with many other Saints and an account of the journey was published. They had some good experiences and some not so good, but they were all happy to be on the ship. They arrived in the Salt Lake Valley approximately eight months after leaving England. They moved to Provo, Utah where William went to work in the woollen mills.
William took a second wife Rebecca Harris (my great grandmother) who was very young when they married. Rebecca was a niece of Martin Harris, who was a witness to the Book of Mormon. Two children were born to this union, a son Emer Harris Taylor and a daughter Rebecca Harriet.
William was called to be a Home Missionary and also served in the organization of the34th Quorum of Seventy.
William contracted encephalitis and died when he was only 37 years old.

GRANDPARENTS (TAYL0R)

No history of my great, great,Grandparents, they were born in Trowbridge, Wiltshire England, and never left England. They were William Taylor, born 1803 and Winifred Hewitt born April 15, 1796.
My great Grandparents were William Joseph Taylor, born July 7, 1832 in Trowbridge, Wiltshire, England and My greatGrandmother was Rececca Harris born Dec. 24, 1845 in Nauvoo, Hancock, Illinois.

REBECCA HARRIET TAYLOR

My grandmother Rebecca Harriet Taylor was living in Provo, Utah and was only 13 months old when her father William Joseph Taylor died. Her mother had to work to support her two children. Her mother, Rebecca Harris remarried a man who was a polygamist, and after a time there was some contention and he divorced her. She had a one year old son she had to give up.
Rebecca then married a third time to a man named Frank Adams who was irresponsible and he deserted her in Evanston, Wyoming.

My Grandmother Rebecca Harriet married David Samuel Tracy and they were the parents of 13 children. Their children were sealed to them in the Logan, Utah Temple. The women in the Church at that time did their Relief Society teaching by going to the different Sisters homes by horse and buggy. They had several interesting experiences, some of which were when they were stranded with a broken buggy or wagon, but they were always faithful in their duties. Life for the Pioneer women was often difficult and sometimes even dangerous. They were strong women and lived a mostly happy life with their large families. I don't have many memories of my Grandmother Tracy, I think I only saw her once or twice. She was a rather stern lady (one had to be with 13 children) and I was intimidated by her. She died in Burley, Idaho at the age of 91 years.