MYRTLE TULLIS ADAMS

As told to her brother Milo and wife Verda S. Tullis on the way from Ogden to her home in Washington, Utah, in September, 1956.

M

yrtle was born 29 March, 1901 in Gunlock, Washington Co., Utah to James and Ellen Melvina Leavitt Tullis, the fourth child in a family of eleven. Her life story goes as follows:

My first recollection is of living on the “lower place” in Gunlock. Our home was a log cabin of one room, with another room built of lumber and a third room built of adobe brick. I recall the neat stack yard Dad had made of a pole or picket fence. It seemed such a shame to me to see the floods in the spring come and wash it away. I was only five at the time, but felt badly to see Dad’s work destroyed in this way. I remember the large pumpkins we grew. One year they were so large and thick we could have walked across the patch on the pumpkins without touching the ground. We raised many grapes, too.

While I was still small, we moved to Malad, Idaho. I was impressed with the long straight roads, so smooth too. (If you have been to Gunlock on the old road which crossed the creek so many times and wound back and forth, or the steep narrow road that zigzags down the mountain from Veyo way, you can appreciate the contrast.) Mother drove the buggy with the younger children and Dad was ahead in the wagon. I recall one time Mother was quite disturbed. The road seemed to lead right into the river ahead and all of a sudden, Dad and the wagon went out of sight. Mother thought he had driven right into the river and really hurried to catch up and see what was happening. To her surprise, the road made a sharp turn and everything was all right. Dad and the wagon were safe on the road.

Dad got on as a boss right away when we got to Malad. He had his team working too. They were building a railroad into Yellowstone Park. We lived in a big tent, but were comfortable. There was a man named Mr. Bell who worked with Dad who used to kid me about marrying him. When I was five we had a dog named Spot, who used to bring wood to the house, when we were on the ranch near Gunlock. He also drove the cows home at night. When we were in Idaho he was killed by a stick of dynamite. One of the men had thrown it into the air and the dog caught it in his mouth as it came down, thinking it was a stick of wood. The dynamite exploded, killing the dog. We all felt so badly when the dog died, so Dad tried to help console us by wrapping Spot in a new horse blanket and burying him.

In Yellowstone, the grass grew as high as the men’s waists. We lived near the men’s camp and they used to send us over good things to eat. I played with a girl named Tootsy. Her mother spanked her and her Dad beat her mother. Quite a family. There was lots of blasting done in building the railroad. I remember one day a man got his leg broke because he would not get behind a tree as he was told to, while they were blasting. They put him on a two wheeled cart and he was screaming as they drove him to the doctor.

The time we spent in Yellowstone and Idaho, I thought was the choice time of my early life. We traveled a lot by train, as we had passes, since Dad worked for the railroad. It used to bother me a lot though, to hear how the people on the trains talked so badly about the Mormons. We were there about two years and I hated coming back to Gunlock. I had nicer things to play with while we were in Idaho. I remember when we were packing to come back, Mother made me leave all my playthings. I really felt badly, especially about a little broom I had to leave, that I had enjoyed so much. I never did tell Mother how badly I felt about leaving, it, or she may have let me take it along with me. While we lived in Malad, we had some very nice neighbors named McDonald, who were quite well off. Once they sent us over a big tray of food, and I did so enjoy it. Dad hauled some coal to them in the night, as they did not want us to return their favors to us. When we left Idaho, they gave us lots of things. They gave me a blue silk dress. I liked it so much, I wished it would never wear out. We had nice things in Idaho. The folks always believed in living up to what they made.

In Gunlock, we had a horse we called “Old Pet.” Mother raised it on the bottle. It used to come to the house when it was hungry to be fed. One day it came to the window to be fed, but Dad thought he would try to fool the horse, so he pulled down the blinds. The horse kept going around the house to each window, but Dad kept pulling the blinds down just ahead of the horse, trying to make it think no one was up. Finally, Old Pet went back to the window where Mother usually fed her and stuck her head right through the window and the blind. I guess Dad wished he had not tried to fool the horse, when he had to clean up the glass and replace the window pane.

I used to enjoy moving to our ranch, two miles above Gunlock, each spring. Everything seemed so fresh and clean. It was even fun to move back to Gunlock in the fall. Dad always planted only the best, and thinned and sprayed our fruit trees, so our fruit was really choice. I enjoyed fishing, riding horses, and liked to coast in a wagon down a road that sloped down through our place. We had one horse we kids could ride and though it was gentle, it was a good racer. We entered the horse in the races on July 4th, when the people from Pinto and Santa Clara came to Gunlock for the celebration. It was called “Bluche,” as it was a “blue” horse. In the fall, its hair would turn dark blue and would fade lighter in the summer. It finally got too frisky from racing for us to ride. Uncle George Tullis offered Dad 100 dollars for the horse (which was a lot of money those days), but Dad would not sell. One time I well remember, Roy, my brother, nearly got killed on Bluche. Roy was caught by one foot in the stirrup and was trying to hang on to the reins. He had fallen almost clear under the horse, which was spinning and raring around close to the poles. He got down safely, but I can’t recall just how.

One early memory I have is of riding under the stars in an open wagon on the way to and from the dances. I remember the time the folks got a phone call to come to Pinto in a hurry. It turned out to be a dance they were having, but we thought for awhile it was a big emergency. The folks took us children to the dances with them. When it got late, the little ones were put to sleep on the stage till the dance was over. I recall Grandma Tullis’ home in Pinto. We used to have such a lot to eat and what seemed the best to me, she never asked us kids to work. Her home was so roomy and was the outstanding place in Pinto.

Sometimes I’d stay with Aunt Blanche or Aunt Vera Leavitt when the folks traveled. Once the folks left Cora, LaMar and myself alone on the ranch. We had lots of work to do and I recall LaMar wouldn't do his share, so I and Cora took it upon ourselves to punish him and tried to force him to work, but we didn’t get very far. Another time I and Cora were alone at the ranch and we saw some Indians coming. Dad had made arrangements for them to come and thresh our beans, but we didn’t know that and were we scared! We hid under the bed “shaking in our boots.” Finally Cora got brave enough to go look out the window and she saw one Indian she knew called “Old Napoleon.” She told me not to be afraid as she knew everything would be all right. So we went out and offered them a big pan of potatoes. I thought I'd please them if I put some big ones on top. When I offered them the potatoes they told me to dump them out on the ground. I did, and when they saw the smaller ones underneath, they really laughed.

I feel that our folks took lots of chances with us children. I recall when LaMar was only eight years old, the folks sent him on horseback to Gold Strike with the mail. There was quite deep snow on the ground and it got dark before he returned home. The folks got worried and went out to find him. He was lost and it was lucky they found him in time.

I remember Grandpa Jeremiah Leavitt IV talking to the Indians if they needed advice or when they were mourning for their dead. The Indians thought a lot of Grandpa and knew all his family. Wherever they saw any of us children, they would call us “Jeremiah’s Papoose.”

One dress I had I will never forget. It had a full skirt and was of a plaid material, partly yellow.

One day Mother fainted and I’ll never forget it, as Aunt Alice Bishop and Uncle Ed Tullis were there and they threw a full bucket of water on her right in our front room.

On our ranch in Gunlock, we raised all kinds of fruit and melons and a lot of garden stuff. People came from Enterprise to buy our fruit. Dad always gave good measure, in fact he gave about a third of our fruit away. One of Dad’s nieces came with her young baby and stayed with us while she put up the fruit Dad gave her. I often wonder how Mother put up with so much extra work like this.

Once Mother sent me to the field to get Roy. I was riding old Bonnie. On the way back we both fell off the horse. I just knew we would. It must have been sort of a hunch. I was thirteen when we moved to Veyo, where we lived six years. The folks would send us kids back to Gunlock for supplies and it often scared us to make the trip alone. One evening I rode our horse, Nellie from Veyo to Gunlock to go to a dance with a group of young people. The horse fell in the creek and I hurt my ankle quite badly, but went to the dance anyway. Another time, I and Roy and a Baker kid were riding home from the dance. We raced our horses, as we were young and foolish and had no fear. I fell in the dirt and cut my neck. I got my mouth so full of dirt I could not talk. I cleaned up in the creek before going home. I remember one trip by horseback, I and Cassie and Dad made to Gold Strike. It was so cold and the horses had quite a time wading through the deep snow.

Only once did I ever tell Mother “I won’t do it.” It was when we lived at the ranch. I recall one time we were drying fruit and Mother was after me for something I had done. I climbed up the ladder to the top of the house to get away from her.

I was eighteen and a half when I met Claude Adams. He had come up to Veyo to work on the power line. When I first saw him pass, I thought he was dressed so much better than the other men. One of my early impressions was that he was lazy. Little did I think then that he was the man I would later marry. I thought he was lazy even after we were married, for a while. He moved slowly, but I found he made his work count and I found out later, he even worked too hard. One night when he was courting me, he fell asleep on his horse while he was on his way home from my place. He fell off, breaking his shoulder.

I went with Claude from November to April. We got married 5 April, 1920 at the home of his parents who lived in Washington, Utah. We lived with Claude’s brother Jack and his wife, Kate, for three years. On 20 September, 1921, our first child, a son was born who we named Brant Keat Adams. We built us a two room house in 1923 and the next year, 21 July, 1924 our second child, a girl, was born. We named her Reba. On November 11, 1927, Boneita, who we called Bonnie, was born. All my children were born in Washington, Utah except Bonnie who was born at my mother’s home in Ogden. I recall what pretty babies they all were. When Bonnie was born, my brother Milo and his wife had their first baby, a boy, named Don, just thirteen days earlier. Bonnie was so dark and Don so light in hair and complexion that when we’d lay them beside each other, it would remind us of day and night, Verda (Milo’s wife) once said.

We had lots of sickness, beginning when our children were young. When Bonnie was five weeks old she was very ill. Then she had appendicitis for about a year when she was sixteen and we almost lost her. She hated to stay out of school and would not unless she were very ill. I want to mention here the birth of my two other boys. Claude Blaine Adams was born 10 August, 1931 and Larry Mack Adams, 3 November, 1934. Soon after this, in 1937 we added more rooms on the back of our house. This first place we had in Washington was on a corner just a block and a half east of our present home which we built in 1951.

Blaine had back trouble and then we found out he had appendicitis. He was operated on for this and was doing quite well, but took a turn for the worse and died 9 June, 1947.

All my life since I was married I’ve had back trouble. For fourteen years I was sick with it. I went to five doctors and finally found that poison from my tonsils had caused the trouble. I had them out in Ogden. Bonnie had a poison goiter for a long time about 1952. I had another, operation (on my cervix) when I was about thirty-five in Ogden and had been given gas without oxygen as an anesthetic. I did not “come to” until about seven in the evening of the day I was operated on. The next morning at about seven, I had a manifestation.

As the nurse left the room, a woman entered, dressed in a white blouse, gathered skirt, and a narrow belt, with an old fashioned “dust cap” with a ruffle. She asked me how I was. I told the nurse about her but she had no knowledge of anyone like that having been in the hospital. I decided my visitor must have come from “the other side.” She appeared again later when I was in the hospital ward.

I’ve had a lot of wonderful things happen to me in my life which are too sacred to tell. There’s one I can tell. When I was seventeen I used to have such bad “monthly times.” One time Mother was doctoring me all day and just she and I were home. She left to turn the irrigating water and I fell as I was on the way to the bathroom. Mother came and helped me back to bed. I was so sick. I felt I couldn’t live another half hour. There was no particle of my body that didn’t hurt. Mother called Bishop Bunker to administer to me. As he prayed, my pain began to leave and as he said “amen” all my misery was cut off like a knife had cut it suddenly. I felt heavenly. I got up and didn’t have to go back to bed any more that month.

When Larry was born, I could not take much ether. I could hear a man with the most wonderful voice I’d ever heard saying, “All is well.” He was close enough to touch. I couldn’t see him but could feel his presence.

Now to go back a ways, when I was at Mother’s and had Bonnie, Brant wanted to trade her to Dad for a pan of potatoes and gravy. He was six then. He was three when Reba was born and we made too much over the baby and he was jealous.

Cassie and Paul Hancock took Brant to a movie when he was quite young. It was a cowboy show and when it looked like the “bad guys” were going to shoot one of the “good guys,” Brant stood up and shouted, “Isn’t someone going to help that guy?” This, no doubt, was a surprise and amusement to the audience.

When Mother and Dad were sick with flu when they lived on Wilson Lane in Ogden, I came up to help them. They had no phone and I went to the neighbors to call the doctor. I had a hard time getting one. Then I called their bishop to administer to them. He came and did so and they went sound asleep before the doctor came. When he came, he could find nothing wrong with them after their blessing. I stayed two weeks and got the flu myself. It turned to pneumonia and has effected my health to this day.

In the summer of 1956, on June 30, I had a serious operation in Cedar City, Utah. A week later I went to Reba’s for a few days. Then Delwin broke his leg so I stayed with Aunt Blanche in Gunlock a few days, to make it easier for Reba. Two weeks after my operation I came to Ogden and stayed for a two month visit. This was an enjoyable time for me to be near my brothers and sisters. I had many happy times with them. The sisters and sisters-in-law met each month to honor one of their birthdays. I think we had some extra parties while I was in Ogden. I really enjoyed these get-togethers. During the time I made a trip to Dallas, Texas to try a treatment for my health problem. My family urged me to do all I could to become well.

I can’t remember all my church jobs. I have been in the presidency of nearly every organization. I’ve held almost every job in the church but Bishop. I was a teacher in Primary and Sunday School. I worked less in Sunday School than in any other organization. The two years I worked in Sunday School with the children, I enjoyed a lot. My first day in class I did not yet have a book of the lessons so I prayed and when I got through, it came to me clearly what to do. I’d been reading the Bible and started telling about Abraham. The children kept good order and asked me to come back. It was Larry’s class, the thirteen-year-olds. When it came time to be promoted, they did not want to be put in another class and leave me. A Mrs. William’s came to me and said, “You did more for my boy than all the others (teachers) put together.” They had a unhappy home life, so her son needed help. The other teacher was Rosa Paxman. She would give the regular lesson and I followed up with Bible stories, instead of any other stories.

I taught the boys in Primary; I taught the “Bluebird Class” when Brant was a baby. When Bonnie was a baby I worked in Primary too. I was President of the Relief Society from February, 1952 till now in 1956 when my health got bad. I worked four years as Manual Counselor in the Mutual; was a Relief Society Visiting Teacher for over twenty-five years.

I went to the Temple first when I was three months along with Larry. I felt my easier time at his birth was due to that. When Bonnie was a baby she had pneumonia, then indigestion, then recurrent pneumonia which left her with an unresolved lung, for one and a half years, she could not take a deep breath. Claude’s mother came and helped me for ten days. I sometimes got only a half hours sleep in a night for months. Then we got a nurse to stay ten days so I could get a little rest.

The next summer she got well and I gave her sunbathes as the doctor feared she’d get Tuberculosis if I didn’t. She had pneumonia each January for four years. She even had convulsions. She was just small, but the look on her face plainly said, “Help me if you can.” She was only about two and a half years old so could not talk a lot. I had wanted so long to move to Ogden to be near my parents and their family, but finally thought if Bonnie would get well, I wouldn’t ask to move. It helped me be more content.

A few years ago Claude mentioned moving to Ogden, but by then our children were all married and settled in St. George, so I didn’t see any point to moving at this time.

I used to sew for my family. I made every shirt Brant had till he was about fourteen years old and all the girls dresses, even some shirts for Claude. At present, September, 1956 I have eleven grandchildren. I’ve made all my quilts; never bought one in my life. I have done lots of handwork and have given lots away. (Verda’s note: The summer of 1956 Myrtle made something for each of her brothers and sisters with handwork. Our gift was a pretty quilted pillow for use on our couch. I still have it and treasure it.)

I entered two quilts in the State Fair. I took third place and entered a suit which won first prize. The Singer Sewing Machine Co. and a Textile Co. sponsored a sewing contest called “Sew It With Cotton Bags.” (Myrtle was in this contest, helped by Rose Waters and Grace Cooper.) The prize was to be awarded 75% for originality. We took first place in the County and second place at the State Fair. We may have got first place at the State Fair if we had pressed our items, but were told not to by women there. We made dolls, hats, gloves, clothing, curtains and all household linens out of cotton bags, even burlap bags, white and colored bags. We also made pillows, scarf’s, etc. and even a lamp. The County prize was twenty dollars; Plus fifty dollars for expenses. The State prize was a Singer Sewing Machine which we turned over to the Relief Society at Washington Ward. we even made a housecoat and slippers. I worked on forty different articles myself. We entered 250 articles, including a quilt. This contest was in 1953.

When I was Relief Society President we always had big times for our March parties, at Christmas etc . . . . I was an ordinance worker in the St. George Temple for two years before World War II. I felt badly when I was released. In two weeks after my release I was called on a home mission. This helped me keep my mind off my worries. Our son, Brant was in the army and I was very worried about him. The Lord blessed me when Brant was in the service. I felt we had to live good lives if we expected him to come back safely. The Lord blessed me not to worry when Brant was not writing.

One day I was putting up carrots outside in a large tub. I left on my missionary work. When I returned at eleven P.M. the fire was still burning under the tub. I poured some water in the tub and it broke the bottles and raised the tub in the air. Glass sprinkled all around me and I was saturated with hot juice, but I was not burned. I felt I was protected by the Lord. I went into my kitchen and prayed to thank the Lord.

One more thing about my handwork. I painted a quilt for the Centennial Celebration and it brought the price of 144 dollars. (This was the Centennial of the Church in their area.)

I was quite a spendthrift when I first married Claude. He taught me to be careful. My folks never let any of us children handle money, which made it bad. They went through a lot of money. I don’t want to be left in the financial position they were in when they were old.

I met a girl in the Cedar City Hospital who was sixteen years old and had been through thirteen operations since she was a year and a half old, as a result of polio. She had a most cheerful outlook on life. Her latest operation in Cedar City was on her appendix. She had walked on crutches till about the last year. She was a great example of how to meet adversities.

That finishes what Myrtle told us (Verda and Milo) of her life but we’d like to add a little ourselves. Cassie tells us the following: In 1956 a book was published by the St. George Stake Relief Society. It’s a fine book with many pictures and histories of the various ward Relief Societies of the Stake. Myrtle did a lot to collect pictures and information from people in various communities in the area to complete the history of the Washington, Utah Ward. You won’t see credit given her in the book for doing this, but Myrtle was modest and didn’t seek praise or publicity for the good she did. Cassie accompanied Myrtle on many of these errands so she knows first hand how much Myrtle did to help.

Another example of Myrtle’s kindness is told by Cassie. Myrtle bought material and made a graduation dress for a girl in the town, whose folks could not help her. She also bought slippers and what else the girl needed for her graduation outfit. Myrtle surely had done lots of good, much of which may never be known to us.

We didn’t have close contact with Myrtle after we took her to her home in September, 1956. In August of 1957 we went to Hawaii on a Labor Mission for the LDS Church and Myrtle passed away 14 November, 1958, at age fifty-seven, less than a month after Milo returned from Hawaii, so we know little of what she did in her last two years of life. She was quite well for awhile, but she had cancer and we understand from her children that she suffered quite a bit toward the last. She surely knew she would not live long, so she talked on a recording for the benefit and use of her family, expressing her love and concern for them. We heard this recording and suppose it is still in existence (In 1975 as I finish this) and I feel it would be interesting and of benefit to the grandchildren to hear it as they grow up.

We know Myrtle loved her family very much and she tried to be a good example to them. It is my hope, as I write this history, mostly her own thoughts and words, that her children and grandchildren will enjoy reading it; value Myrtle for her goodness and try to always act and live in a way they know would be pleasing to her.