What Makes Me Who I Am?

Stories About My Ancestors Help Me Understand My Nature and My Desire for Greater First Amendment Protections

I’m not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but four to five generations of my ancestors on my paternal grandfather’s side were early members of the Church. I’m fascinated by their stories of migration, persecution, death, polygamy, missionary service, poverty, industriousness, slaying of grizzly bears and accomplishments in turning sagebrush desert into farms and villages. Their stories inform me about poverty, persecution and possibility. If they could endure persecution so can I. If they could build villages out of the wilderness so can I.

The story below describes the death of my great great grandparents Hyrum and Maggie Jensen.

They died within a year of each other in their late twenties. Their six children were subsequently raised by grandparents, aunts and uncles. My great grandmother is one of these orphaned children. She was about 3-4 years old when her parents died. Her mom died of typhoid fever and her dad of ruptured appendix.

I don’t why she left the Church, but she married outside the Church into the Gibb family near her 18th birthday. This is the story of her parents’ death.

This story only mentions her (Mabel) once, and it’s not important that you read the story. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend that you read it, but what I find interesting is that the person who raised my dad is her son. That is, the person who raised my dad is a man who was raised by a woman who was born and raised in a Mormon village whose population was not far from 100% Mormon.

She was raised by her grandparents who lived the quintessential Mormon pioneering and persecution experience. They were actually living in Nauvoo when Joseph Smith was murdered. Their peer group fled the United States to escape persecution and violence against them.

Some people talk as if times have never been worse, that the country is going to hell. But when I look back, I see that for some of my ancestors, the ones I have information about, had it worse culturally and politically. Their peer group fled the United Stated because of persecution—because of their heretical beliefs and practices. Was this persecution justified? Was their Gathering, prophesying, polygamy and dogma so threatening to the other Christians that it justified persecution—with real murder and violence?

Sometimes I wonder why people don’t see things the way I do. Why am I so different than other people? There is no science that can explain this to me. My opinions on this are subject to enormous bias, but it is a fact that many of our recent ancestors were either persecuted or persecutors. I’m pretty sure my ancestors were both. For some of us, that persecution, and my ancestors’ response to it is almost tangible. I can read about it and see their response to it.

So are things really getting worse culturally?

This word culture is related to the word cult. We are cultish animals.

How do we deal with the nature of our cultishness? I’ve pointed to the First Amendment, but few seem interested in taking up that conversation with me.

This is an account of the short life of Hyrum Jensen and Ada Margaret Dees.¹

This story begins many years ago when Hyrum with his parents, Anton C. Jensen and Maren Mouritsen Jensen, moved to Weston, Idaho. They had a large family. Hyrum the oldest of 13 children, was born in Smithfield, Utah, September 26, 1866. The Jensen's are tall people; Hyrum was six feet in height. 

Anton and Maren were Danish people, having come from Denmark in the early years of their lives. They used to talk in Danish whenever they had a secret that was not meant for others to hear. Anton and three of his sons served honorable missions for the L.D.S. Church.

In the little country village of Weston, Idaho, Hyrum grew to young manhood. It was here he met, fell in love, and married Miss Maggie Dees, beautiful dark haired, dark eyed, country girl, slender and of medium height who lived with her parents in an adjoining village a few miles away. She was a gifted woman and always took part in the celebrations. She wrote her own readings and recitations. They were married at Weston in 1892.

A short time after their marriage they homesteaded 160 acres of sagebrush land about 1½ miles north of Weston. Here they built their first home, which was constructed of sawed logs with a lean or slope on the back. The logs were sawed on all four sides and laid on top of one another to form a wall that was plastered on the inside. The sloped room was used as a bedroom and would accommodate three beds along the low side. At the back of the house were a couple of fruit trees and two rows of poplar trees which lined both sides of the walk leading to the house. In this two-room house on the farm six children came into this world. 

One day a letter arrived which changed a lifetime of plans and created a great deal of excitement; the Church had called Hyrum on a two-year mission. He had five little children and Maggie was expecting their sixth in February. A date for his departure was set sometime in May, which would allow sufficient time after the birth of the baby for Maggie to regain her strength. Their dream home could wait, the Church meant more to them. Maggie couldn’t run the farm and Leo was only 9, so Hyrum’s sister, Aunt Till Maughan and her husband rented the farm and the livestock and all the machinery would remain where it was. Hyrum owned the first threshing machine in the county that was powered by a steam engine and he owned some of the finest horses in the community. All this must be put aside until his mission was accomplished.

A two-room house about 1½ blocks from Anton Jensen's house in Weston was rented as the family’s home while Hyrum was away. Half-way between the two houses stood the store that Hyrum owned in partnership with his father, Anton, where all kinds of general merchandise was sold. Arrangements were made for Maggie to work part-time in the store. 

When the selected day came, Hyrum and Maggie set out for Salt Lake; Hyrum was set apart for a mission in the state of Washington on May 4, 1903. Maggie smiled as she kissed him goodbye at the railroad station and cried as she watched the train until it was completely out of sight and then she turned her footsteps toward home. 

Maggie and the children often went back to the farm. One day she found Hyrum’s footprints there in the sands of time. She knelt down and very gently touched them with her hand. What a tender love they possessed for each other, Maggie read Hyrum’s letters over and over again; each time tears, which she couldn’t restrain, made blotches on the ink. The last line of each letter was written to the children, asking them to be good and praying that God would bless them. 

Maggie was very busy with six children to care for plus the work in the store; perhaps it was better that way. Peach time came early that year and Maggie canned jar upon jar of beautiful peaches. It was during the canning season that her illness first became apparent. As each day went by she spent more and more hours in bed. Hyrum and Maggie’s parents arrived daily to help in any way they could. 

Maggie asked them not to send for Hyrum; every day she would say, "I'll be better tomorrow." But as the tomorrows came and went her condition steadily worsened. Finally a message was sent to Hyrum stating that Maggie was very ill. Only four months had passed away since he left Weston for his mission.  

Hyrum arrived home and the children were placed in homes of relatives. Maggie’s greatest concern was her love for her children. She asked that they be kept neat and clean.  The doctors who had been in attendance diagnosed her illness as Typhoid Fever; in those days this was nearly always fatal. She begged for food, which was not permissible if one had this fever. To deny her food, was the hardest task they had ever been asked to do. Yet, with all these safety precautions, Maggie died September 30, 1903, having spent just twenty-nine years on earth.

In a small pocket diary Hyrum used in the mission field, he wrote with such tenderness and feeling, a day-to-day report of Maggie’s condition:  

“Received word to come home. Dear Maggie was very sick. Started home on the 23rd of September.  Arrived September 24, 1903—9:15 o'clock. Dear Maggie a little better.

September 25 improving

                "   26 not quite so well

                "   27 about the same

                "   28 growing weaker

                "   29 growing weaker

                "   30 Dear wife died . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5:47 a.m.

October 2nd Dear Maggie was laid to rest. . . .3:40 p.m.”

The death of Maggie touched the hearts of all the people in the valley. The chapel was filled to capacity the day of her funeral.

Hyrum didn't move back on the farm, but stayed on in the little house. Many times, in the early morning hours, while the children were asleep, he would dress and visit Maggie’s grave. Weeks passed and misfortune struck again; Hyrum had contacted Small Pox, which was very contagious and often dangerous. The house was quarantined and no one was allowed to leave or enter. Medicine and groceries were left on the porch. Hyrum was fighting a losing game. Tears, he couldn't control, dampened the children’s hair which he tried to comb. Each night the family knelt around the bed while Hyrum prayed for help. How joyful was the day when the quarantine was lifted.

Months passed swiftly by when tragedy entered the home once more. A physician from Utah arrived and found that Hyrum’s appendix had ruptured. An operation, it was decided, would not save his life. Again, medical knowledge along this line was limited. 

In the early morning hours of May 4, 1904, Hyrum told those gathered around his bedside, that Maggie had come for him. A deathlike silence filled the room. Then someone suggested a will, but Hyrum declined, saying that it was too late now. Instead, he called those in the room as witnesses, saying:

 "There's Father, there's Grandpa and Grandma Dees, here's me and there's God.” extending his hand toward Heaven. "I want my children to have a good education. Love and take good care of my children."  He stated his property would be sufficient for all their needs. 

Then from among the relatives and friends, Hyrum selected suitable homes for his six children. Ada, Mable, and Grace were to go to John and Ada Dees; Ivy went to Anton and Maren Jensen, and Ila went to Uncle Tom and Aunt Elvira Phillips (Maggie's sister). Leo was to go to Olaf Christensen, a very good friend of Hyrum's. 

Hyrum laid his head on the arm of John Dees and then his spirit left this world to join Maggie’s. Above the bed on the wall, was their marriage license which read: Mr. Hyrum Jensen and Miss Maggie Dees - united in marriage at Weston, Idaho - November 22, A.D. 1892. There was also a verse, part of which went something like;

"And now, whatever winds and waves betide,
Two friendly ships are sailing side by side."

1. This biographical sketch is titled, “So Dear to My Heart 1 - Hyrum Jensen and Ada Margaret Dees” and is posted at FamilySearch by wilmajephson. It begins with the following

Compiled from notes of Hyrum Leo Jensen and writings of Ada Jensen Wickham, the son and oldest daughter of Hyrum and Ada Margaret Dees Jensen.

Additional information about their children is included in So Dear to My Heart 2-6.  It is a touching story that should be preserved and cherished by their posterity.