The First 9 11 in America: September 11, 1857 Mountain Meadows Massacre (A Senseless, Sad Tragedy)

By Leonard Griffiths

How did the beautiful, peaceful mountain meadows of the Utah Territory become the killing fields of The First 9/11 in America? The leaders of the Mormon church knew and so did these men: John D. Lee, George W. Adair, Jr., William C. Stewart, Nephi Johnson, Ira Hatch, Samuel Jukes, Jacob Hamblin, William H. Dame, Elliott Wilden, David W. Tullis, Daniel Hammer Wells, and dozens more. All of these men knew! But the Arkansas and Missouri members of the Baker-Fancher wagon train did not know until it was too late!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098016012

Book preview

Introduction

Opening Thought

Why is it that we, on average, do not ask our parents and/or our grandparents about our heritage or lineage until it is too late? This was the case with myself in regard to the heritage and lineage from all four of our families from which my wife and I descended. Now we have found it necessary to research and study for much of the information that we could have received from our parents and grandparents had we had the foresight and interest to ask them about, when we could have done so, when it was so convenient. Now, here we are, wishing that we had known earlier how rich a treasure we ignored.

Something That Needs To Be Understood

Before the Baker-Fancher wagon train departed from Crooked Creek, Arkansas, David made a promise to his uncle Peter and to his aunt Evelina! Over a nice warm piece of apple pie and a glass of cold sweet milk, David promised that he would do his very best to keep a daily—or as near as possible—journal of how everything was going along on the westward journey to the golden State of California.

So coupled up with the ongoing events and activities of this historical/novel, there is the daily grind of dates and locations that you, the reader, will either appreciate or find boring. But keep in mind that David had made a promise to his uncle Peter and to his aunt Evelina, and he was going to do his best to fulfill that promise!

Introduction

As I, and a lot of the rest of you, made our way through the wreckage and stress that had become lodged in our minds and hearts—yes, even in our very souls—with the news of the 9/11 of the year 2001, we all, if for just a moment in time, leaned upon and sought to comfort one another. Most of us remember where we were and what we were doing when we learned about the unfolding tragedy. For most of us, life has not been the same any more. It was just different, and our take home pay was that we came to appreciate the true value of life. Because of 9/11, we learned afresh the deeper meanings of life, family, and friends!

So it was for my wife and I until we came to learn about the Mountain Meadows Massacre of September 11, 1857—the First 9/11 in America! There were two events that brought this first 9/11 in America to our attention.

One event happened on the afternoon of Tuesday, June 13, 1989, in Las Vegas, Nevada, at the time my wife, Lee Jane, and I attended the Annual Convention of Southern Baptists as messengers from a church in Arizona. That event was as follows:

As we were walking up to one of the entries of the convention center, we observed that there was an older-looking lady dressed much like a western pilgrim from the mid-nineteenth century, bonnet and all. Standing by her and assisting her was a younger lady who was a friend of the older lady. When we came near these two, the older lady asked us if we would like to have one of her paperback books—for free. A book, she said, that she had written. We said, Of course, and took the book and hurried on into the convention center to get registered. We did not see that lady nor the younger lady who was with her again while we were in Las Vegas. At that moment in time, neither my wife nor I knew what a life-changing impact that the older lady and her book would make in our lives.

It was not until after we had returned to our Arizona home and church duties that we found time to look at the book which is titled Mormonism, Mama and Me, and it was written by Thelma Rachel Granny Geer, who lived, at that time, in Safford, Arizona. The copy that she gave to us was a 1986 Moody Press Edition. Our first reaction to the book was negative, because we thought that it was promoting Mormonism. Nevertheless, we read through the book and were thrilled to learn that Mrs. Geer had become a Christian and that she had tried her best to lead her relatives to salvation in the Lord Jesus Christ. Her parents did profess faith in the Lord, but she was not able to reach some of the others, but she tried. But the main thing that stood out in her book was the accounting of what was/is called the Mountain Meadows Massacre (Chapter 10 of her book, titled Grandpa Pays for Mountain Meadows, and labeled as The Mountain Meadows Massacre" via the drawing on p. 166). It was/is a wonderful book, but after all, we had a lot of wonderful books, and at the time, this book was just one more to add to our library.

The other event happened later that same year of 1989 while visiting my parents at a Hereford, Texas, retirement facility when my mother gave me a hardbound book titled Boone County and Its People, written by Ralph R. Rea in 1955, with Hugh Park, editor, published by Press-Argus of Van Buren, Arkansas. In the course of reading this book, I became aware that Ralph R. Rea had a section in his book (Chapter 4 titled Carrollton, Crooked Creek and Death on the Meadows) that told about the same Mountain Meadows Massacre that took place in the Southwest Utah Territory like Mrs. Geer had written as Chapter 10 (‘Grandpa Pays for Mountain Meadows’) of her book titled Mormonism, Mama and Me.

As I was reading Mr. Rea’s book, I was thinking all of this through as follows: This is the same story about how the Mormons and the Southern Paiute Indians joined forces and carried out the tragedy that we know today as ‘The Mountain Meadows Massacre.’ But the big news, for me at least, was that, for the first time, I was seeing the name Beller in the midst of this story. My interest was greatly triggered because my mother’s maiden name is Beller. I was also reading about how this wagon train—the Baker-Fancher wagon train—was partially formed and departed from a place called Crooked Creek and a general store that went by the name of Beller’s Stand (the location of that store was where the U.S. Military and Postal Road crossed Crooked Creek on the route from Ft. Smith, Arkansas, to Springfield, Missouri). My wife and I have been to that crossing, which is about seven miles south of present day Harrison, Arkansas, county seat of Boone County, Arkansas. Located just up the hill from that crossing is the Beller-Jenkins Cemetery, where several members of our Beller family are buried.

When I realized that there was a connection between the awful and tragic story of the Mountain Meadows Massacre and the Beller family, I was motivated to learn as much as possible about all of this and, especially, to try to find out if my own mother’s lineage was somehow connected to this particular Beller line inasmuch as her maiden name was Dorothy Lulabelle Beller. So consequently, I contacted my mother and asked her what she knew about the Mountain Meadows Massacre and the connections to Beller’s Stand and the Beller family. And shock of shocks, she knew almost nothing about any of it. Now, my wife and I were becoming fully motivated and began to do some research which included visiting the very site of Mountain Meadows in 1991 and meeting with Ron Loving, president of the Mountain Meadows Association, and his wife in Tucson, Arizona, early in 1994. At this point in time, I was more than busy serving as pastor of a new and growing Southern Baptist congregation in Sun City (North Tucson), Arizona, by the name of Vistoso Community Church, which left me little time to work on this research.

Now, fast forward to 1999, and prepare yourself for a surprise—as I and my wife were also quite surprised. I do not remember what the exact date was, but I do know that it was sometime in early September of that year (1999) when I, while on a call of visitation to a member of the church at a retirement or nursing facility in north Tucson, was coming down a hallway when, just as clear as day, God told me to go into this particular room. I first knocked lightly and a voice said, Come in. And I did. Once I was in, I saw this nice-looking older lady at calm rest in her bed, and I introduced myself to her and shared with her that I was the pastor of the Vistoso Community Church of Sun City, Tucson.

We shook hands, and then I asked her what her name was, and she said, I am Thelma Geer. And for a brief moment, I thought I would drop to the floor!

When I had sufficiently recovered, I asked her if she was the same Thelma Geer who had written the book Mormonism, Mama and Me? And she said that was her all right. Good grief, I could hardly believe it. We visited for a few minutes, and then I shared with her that the only other time that I had ever seen her was when she and a younger lady were handing out copies of her book at one of the entrances of the Las Vegas Convention Center in June of 1989. What a wonderful visit we had, and then, as I was about to ask if she would like for us to close our visit with prayer, she surprised me by asking me if it would be OK for me to be her pastor in these closing days of her life. I, of course, said yes, for sure! Can you imagine? Then, after prayer, I left and could hardly wait to get home to share that experience with my wife.

But—and here is the sad part of that terrific story—after only a few follow-up visits with Granny Geer and her daughter, Jackie Geer, she was moved back to Safford, Arizona, and then, after only a few more weeks, God called her home. I learned about it through the local news and then got word about the upcoming funeral service, but due to some unavoidable circumstances, I was not able to attend that service which was conducted at Safford, Arizona, where her body is now buried. We most surely would like to stand by her grave and voice a prayer of Praise be unto the Lord for the way she gave her all unto the Lord as a faithful and true witness of the only way of salvation which is through the Lord Jesus. Amen! I still am totally amazed at the impact that she has made in my life and that of my wife as well!

At the time of my meeting and then visiting with Granny Geer and her daughter, Jackie Geer, I was winding up seven years of pastoral duties at the Vistoso Community Church of Sun City (Oro Valley) Tucson, Arizona. We moved to Munfordville, Kentucky, in the month of October 2000 and lived in a shared facility with our oldest son and his wife. We were there for about a year, at which time, we had decided to attend a cousin’s reunion on my wife’s side of the family—the Marshalls—in eastern Oklahoma near the community of Grove.

It has been said that everyone remembers where they were and what they were doing on that infamous date of September 11, 2001. For my wife and I, as mentioned, we were deep into that cousin’s reunion and it was a Tuesday morning, and we were at a breakfast when we learned about the commandeered planes by terrorists, then we, along with the rest of the nation, watched and listened to the news about the tragedies unfolding in New York City, Arlington County, Virginia, and the Pennsylvania countryside.

Immediately following the tragedy of the 9/11 of 2001, the above-mentioned cousins’ reunion was cut short, and everyone went their own way. And with that, my wife and I felt like we didn’t have anywhere to go. Things were just not working out for us in Kentucky because that was not where God wanted us to be. Down deep in our hearts, we knew that, but we had been trying to make it work anyway. Now, we knew that we had to find out what God’s plan was for us. And for some reason or other, we knew that we needed to settle somewhere in northwest Arkansas. And would you believe that God sat us down right in the middle of a whole lot of family history and heritage. North to Missouri for history on my side of the family, the Griffiths side, then west and south for history on the Marshall and Highland sides of my wife’s family, but as it turned out, most important for the writing of this book, it was south, southwest, and west for history on the Beller side of the family—my mother’s side. The Beller family which, by 1833, had become deeply entrenched in a place called Crooked Creek, Arkansas. This family, along with dozens of other families, had its part in the terrible tragedy which befell the Baker-Fancher wagon train in the Mountain Meadows Massacre in the southwest area of the Utah Territory near the larger town of Cedar City and the smaller village of Enterprise.

All of this—all of the above and much, much more—explains why it did not work out for my wife and I to live in Kentucky from October, 2000 to September 11, 2001. It didn’t work out because, as we learned later, we needed to be living near where the Baker-Fancher wagon train came together and started out from Arkansas to California. And here is another interesting thing about all of this: When we were still living in Kentucky, for that one year, via the internet, we had located a house and property in northwest Arkansas, where we would live for thirteen years. We had located this residence in northwest Arkansas and had even talked to the realtor about the place before we traveled from Kentucky to the cousin’s reunion in Oklahoma. But we did not know that this particular location was right where God had planned for us to live. We did not know that Crooked Creek was located so close by to where we were moving, but God did, and that was all that mattered. He was in charge, and we were good with that, but there was still a lot more coming that we did not know about.

There is one more thing about that one year in which we lived near Munfordville, Kentucky, that we would like to share with you. Looking back now on that time in our lives, it was like God gave my wife and I a one-year break during which time we could share home with our son, his wife, and their two wonderful sons (two of our grandsons). Had we not experienced that at that time, we would never have had that opportunity again. It was a wonderful learning and sharing time in all of our lives!

Now, it is time that we share with you the real reason for researching and writing this historical/novel titled: The First 9/11 in America!

The Reason for Writing The First 9/11 In America

As an illustration, for the reason for this writing, I share the following:

My wife and I served the Lord as pastor and wife of a church in Schofield, Wisconsin, in the years of 1983–1987 and witnessed salvation coming into the lives of many people. It was a time of real witness and joy in the midst of a lot of trials and errors, but as we—my wife and I—think back over those blessed but also trying years, one couple stands out more than any other: Jim and Bess Vick!

The very first Sunday that we were leading a worship service at that Wisconsin church, Bess Vick gave me a five-dollar bill and told me to take my wife out for a hamburger lunch. That act was the beginning of a long and wonderful Christian friendship which is still going on to this day. Her husband, Jim Vick, tried to avoid us for a short period of time until, finally, he met and invited Christ Jesus into his life. We two couples enjoyed many wonderful times through those years, and it was worth everything it cost us to see him come to salvation, and we would gladly do it all over again just to see him come to our Lord Jesus! Jim has long since gone on to be with our Lord in heaven, but we have our memories of him and Bess to cherish. One of those blessed memories that we have of Jim is that he was impatient toward others as to why they could not see that they should invite Christ into their lives. He just could not understand why they put such a thing off.

It wasn’t until one day I remarked to Jim, Do you remember, Jim, when I was sharing with you about your need to confess your sins and invite Jesus into your life?

Yes, he replied.

Well, do you remember that you said that you would do that just as soon as you retired from your job at the paper mill?

He said, Yes.

Then I added, Oh, I get it. You want to put it off until you retire because you don’t want to face all your old sinful yet ‘religious’ buddies on the job as a newborn in Christ! You don’t want that debate and you don’t think you would be able to stand up as a Christian and not just a church member. That’s it, isn’t it, Jim?

Well, Jim admitted that this was all true, and he, being under deep conviction, was saved and subsequently followed the Lord in baptism. Jim became a good church leader, but he just had this impatience about why it was that others could not see and accept salvation offered only by the Lord Jesus Christ! Finally, I reminded him of how it took him quite a while, so how could he expect it to be different with others?

Using that story as an illustration, I was kind of like that with my slow realization about the story of the Mountain Meadows Massacre. It was only little by little—from the June 13, 1989 meeting with Granny Geer in Las Vegas, Nevada, until my wife and I moved to God’s location for us in northwest Arkansas (Lakeview, Arkansas) in October, 2001—that we first began to truly put one and one together (those ones being the two books by Granny Geer [Mormonism, Mama & Me] and Ralph R. Rea [Boone County and Its People.]) Yes, my brothers and sisters and my cousin William Travis Weesner and my wife Lee Jane and myself were all slow-learners. But not surprising, when we realized that even my own mother—Dorothy Lulabelle Beller—didn’t know about the Beller part in the Mountain Meadows Massacre.

One would have thought that she should have known sooner and that she should have shared that with us—her children. One would have thought that our Beller grandpa, William Silas Beller, would have shared something about that, but he didn’t. On and on the story could go, but enough already! My wife and I decided that we would put some flesh on those historic bones and get the story out. So it has been of first interest to us that we get this story out to our family and to the greater family and to the connected families and then to friends and then, well, just to the whole world! And that is the reason for this writing!

We picked David W. Beller—the one and only male Beller on the Baker-Fancher wagon train—through whom to tell the story, this writing, which is a historical/novel. On a personal level, of myself as author, as we began to study and research, it became evident that I was identifying myself to or with David W. Beller. So much so that it seemed like I was there experiencing his life as a twelve-year-old Arkansas boy (as it is pointed out later in this writing). But enough about that for now! It is the hope and prayer of my wife and myself that you will be blessed to read and share this awesome story about The First 9/11 in America!

At the time of the finalization of this writing, spring of 2019, we are keenly aware that it took thirty years and a lot of patient research to bring this all together. We pray that it will not only prove to be a blessing to you but that it will also result in being a blessing through you as you share this historical/novel, The First 9/11 in America!

The What, When, Where, Who and Why

What, When, Where

In the pre-civil years of America and during the time of the so-called ¹ Utah War (1857-1858), the Baker-Fancher Wagon Train, initially made up of about 40 wagons, several carriages, about 1,000 head of cattle, several hundred horses (including a prized stallion valued at $2,000), and some reserve oxen and mules plus at least a nine-member group of Fancher hired cattle and horse wranglers from the state of Missouri known as the Wild-Catters, departed from Beller’s Stand of Carroll County, Crooked Creek, Arkansas, for the new golden State of California. They never made it!

This historical endeavor, sadly, ended in the disaster known as the Mountain Meadows Massacre which took place on the date of September 11, 1857 which is the date of the first 9/11 in America! Partly because of the tension between the United States government and the unTheo-democratic planning of Brigham Young and the Mormon church to establish the State of Deseret² in the Utah territory, and other factors that will be mentioned in and through this writing, these pioneers would have been hard pressed to have chosen a worst time for the journey!

In February 1858, Senator Sam Houston of Texas stated that a war against the Mormons would be one of the most fearful calamities that has befallen this country, from its inception to the present moment. I deprecate it as an intolerable evil. I am satisfied that the Executive (by this, Senator Houston meant the president of the USA) has not had the information he ought to have had on this subject before making such a movement as he has directed to be made.

After careful consideration to all the factors, on the date of April 6, 1858, President James Buchanan issued the famous Proclamation on The Rebellion in Utah which was delivered to Brigham Young and accepted by the Mormons, although with a lot of reservation, Brigham Young agreed to and acknowledged the presidential act of pardon for himself and other officers of the Mormon church but did not consider that anything warranting such a pardon was justified.

So it was that, due to the presidential proclamation, open warfare was avoided in the Utah territory, but nevertheless, there was an uneasy and a fragile coexistence between the occupying United States military and the Mormons until the troops were called back east for service in the American Civil War of 1861–1865.

This writing is a historical/novel: it is history in that it is based on an abundance of written information which is undisputed. Books such as Boone County And Its People by Ralph R. Rea, Mormonism, Mama & Me by Thelma Granny Geer, and The Mountain Meadows Massacre by Juanita Brooks. Also, it’s history is depicted by the movie, September Dawn, directed by Christopher Cain.

On the internet, check out under the title, Mountain Meadows Massacre. You can also get started by holding in your hands a road atlas, turning to the state of Utah and looking down at the bottom left-hand corner, locate the town of Enterprise and, just south of Enterprise, on Highway 18, you will probably see a small red square and the words: Mountain Meadows Massacre (most maps show this, but some do not). This is where the first 9/11 in America took place.

And it is a novel in that the writing seeks to share a personal touch through the person of twelve-year-old David William Beller, who is a blood relative to the author and his family. Every possible effort has been made to identify with David for the purpose of bringing some insight into the lives of the members of the Baker-Fancher Wagon Train. Perhaps you too will be able to identify with David and also with David’s fourteen-year-old sister, Melissa Ann Beller. If we are able to do this, in a sense, the story of the Baker-Fancher Wagon Train will live on in American history.

Who

Peter Beller (brother to the author’s maternal—and his generation’s—great-great-great grandfather), born November 4, 1800, Stokes County, North Carolina, married to Evelina Campbell, May 30, 1829, in Madison County, Alabama, died May 08, 1862, in Boone County, Arkansas.

***

When it comes to the WHO of this book, one of the surprises of the family research revealed that this distant uncle of the author was an absolute strength, guide, and comfort for the Beller families gathered around and about the Beller Stand of Crooked Creek in Carroll County, Arkansas. At the heart of this story is that of the Beller brothers who were Eli Beller, born 1765 in Virginia; Eli’s brother, Peter Beller III, born after 1765 in Virginia; and Eli’s two sons, William Campbell Beller Sr., born February 7, 1799 in Stokes County, North Carolina, and Peter Beller, born November 04, 1800 in Stokes County, North Carolina. (Eli had two other sons—Eli Campbell Beller, born 1809 in Stokes County, North Carolina, and Allen T. Beller, born 1821 in Madison County, Alabama. No information to suggest that these two sons of Eli were involved at Beller’s Stand)

The Beller brothers moved from North Carolina to Alabama and, finally, by 1833, to Carroll County, Arkansas, and homesteaded about seven miles south of present-day Harrison, Arkansas (more on that in chapter 1). In addressing the "who" of this book, the families of the two Beller brothers, William Campbell Beller Sr. and Peter Beller, are central.

Evelina (Evaline or Aveline) Campbell born, January 29, 1812, in Tennessee married to Peter Beller, May 30, 1829, in Madison County, Alabama died, August 27, 1888, in Boone County, Arkansas

***

As stated in the What, When, Where section, the focus of this historical novel is upon twelve-year-old David William Beller and his fourteen-year-old sister, Melissa Ann Beller, who are two of a total of sixteen children of William Campbell Beller Sr. However, due to the deaths of both William C. Beller Sr. (1850) and of his wife, Martha Lovina Wilburn Beller (1849), their children younger than Minerva Ann Beller Baker came under the watch care of the Beller brother (Peter Beller) and his wife, Evelina Campbell Beller.

In the early spring of 1857, the decision was made for David and Melissa to be included in the plan of the California-bound Baker-Fancher wagon train. The plan was for the wagon train, coming together from several Arkansas counties, to depart from Beller’s Stand of Crooked Creek, Arkansas, by mid-April or, at the latest, by April 29–May 1, 1857.

Everyone knew that other wagon units would be joining and departing from the main group on the way toward California.

Part of the plan and preparation for the Beller family was the agreement and placement of David and Melissa under the guardianship of their older sister, Minerva Ann Beller Baker, and her husband, George W. Baker, son of Captain John T. Baker, who was one of the two wagon masters (the other being Captain Alexander Fancher).

Why

As has been shared, the author of this historical/novel had not known nor heard anything about the awful tragedy—Mountain Meadows Massacre of September 11, 1857—until his mother, Dorothy Lulabelle Beller Griffiths, gave him the book, Boone County and Its People by Ralph R. Rea. This, volume 4 of the Arkansas Historical Series, was published in 1955 by Press-Argus of Van Buren, Arkansas. At that time, Press-Argus was the oldest weekly newspaper in Arkansas. The edition was limited to 1,000 copies.

Book given to the author by his Mother—Dorothy Lulabell Beller Griffiths

To say the least, when this author read this book, he was shook. Shook, first of all, as to why he had not heard anything about this before, and shook because he knew that now he had to get into this and learn as much as possible about it so that this could be shared with the descendants of the Beller family and others.

So the answer as to the why is simple—for three reasons:

(1) When this author’s generation began to hear and learn about the awful and awesome tragedy called the Mountain Meadows Massacre, an intense desire to know more was born. (2) When it became possible for information to be gathered, there was a deep desire to share what was learned and being learned with family members and with other descendants. And (3) with reasons one and two becoming a reality, there was (and is) the motivation to share this story with the general public in order that as many as possible might know and come to appreciate this chapter in our history of America!

Why the historical/novel style of presentation? Why not just tell the story? Why not just lay out the facts? The answer is simple: Because more people are open and receptive to sharing rather than telling. This book is a shared story!

And that is why the author made the decision to put faces to this historical chapter in the life of the author’s ancestors and family and this great nation. He knew that, by personalizing this story, it would be much more interesting and help hold the attention of the reader in this fast-moving time of short attention spans (young and old alike). Plus, this approach allows the victims of the Mountain Meadows Massacre to speak to us today, and it opens the door of communication for people today to identify with them—the people who were involved—in this, The First 9/11 In America!

---

¹ The Utah War, also known as at the Utah Expedition, Utah Campaign, Mormon War or Rebellion and as Buchanan’s Blunder. Whatever historians have chosen to label this point in American history, it was basically an ongoing conflict between the Mormon settlers in the Utah Territory and the military of the United States government. Although there were some skirmishes here and there, no major military battles of record took place in this war which began in May 1857 and continued until July 1858.

² State of Deseret in the Conclusion section of this writing.

Chapter 1

The Awakening

David could not believe it! No way, this can’t be true. No way! This is just another one of Melissa Ann’s lies! It isn’t true and I know it’s not true because Aunt Evelina herself said, just yesterday, that we were not going to California! Why does she do this to me? She knows that I have my heart set on going to California. She is always doing stuff like this to me—getting me excited and then all upset just because she thinks that she is so smart and all grown up and stuff. Shoot, she is only two years older than me. She is just fourteen, and that’s not grown up! Not by a long shot, she isn’t. No way! And not only this, just who does she think she is, anyway? There is just no way that this is true. No way! I’m going to talk to Aunt Evelina, that’s what I’m going to do. And Melissa’s going to be sorry. You can bet on that!

And after that hard, strong talk to himself, David said some more. That’s right! I have had enough of Melissa’s lying about stuff, and now this? This is just too much. She’s gone too far now! And gee whiz, I’ve gone too far myself from the house. I can’t even see how far it is, and I can’t even hear anything or anyone, nothing from the house or barn. I guess I’ve gone farther than I thought. Got to get home, got to talk to Aunt Evelina. Yes, sir, I’m going to see my aunt Evelina Beller—that’s who! She will tell me the truth and then Melissa will feel sorry.

And with that, David, all twelve years of him, headed back to the family home and store, back to Beller’s Stand where, it seems nowadays, just about everybody seemed to be—especially for all those who were getting ready to go on that long, long, and great adventure to that new state of California! Talk about exciting was what David was thinking about and, in his imagination, what he was all about!

And what’s that? Somebody’s ringing the bell and it’s not nearly time for supper cause the sun is still way up there! And yelling too! I’d better get there without messing around. And look at all those people and all my family is here too, and there is that ol’ Melissa just a grinning like a cat or something!

And sure enough, along with a bunch of neighbors and people that David didn’t even know—strangers, they were. Goodness, there are so many in the yard and mostly gathered around under the shade of the big oak tree which, these days, seems to be a sort of meeting place when the weather is good. There is my brother William Campbell and his wife Martha, who is very pregnant, and their children—four-year-old Garrett and two-year-old Richard. Goodness, Granny, they are all here: my brother Irvin Ervin and sisters Elizabeth C., Amanda Margaret, Louisiana, Minerva Ann, and her husband George Washington Baker, son of our Carroll County wagon master, Captain John T. Baker, and their children—seven-year-old Mary Lovina, five-year-old Martha Elizabeth, three-year-old Sarah Frances, and their baby, three-month-old William Twitty, and that Melissa Ann and my younger brothers, James Pinkney Springs and Garrett Greer. It sure looks like just about all of the Bellers are here all right, David was thinking. Seemed like David was always thinking. Thinking and a-thinking.

"Uh-oh, I may be in trouble, David thought to himself when he heard Uncle Peter ask him where had he been and when he learned, all too quickly, that some of them had been looking for him for quite a while. What’s going on?" David asked, and then he got an earful!

Where have you been, David? David knew that he was in trouble, but then, it seemed like most everyone was laughing. Shoot, there were a bunch of people there that David didn’t even know. By this time, David was thinking that something big was going on, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out. Then there was Uncle Peter again.

The reason I have called you all together is because we have an announcement to make. As you know, all of us would like to go to California, but the truth is that some of us cannot go.

David thought to himself, You got that right!

After two days and nights of talking—it was Uncle Peter again—your aunt Evelina and I, along with the rest of the family, with the exception of Melissa Ann and David William here, have decided to let Melissa and David go to California.

"Who, how, what?" David thought to himself.

We have talked with Captain John T. Baker, and he has agreed that if his son George Washington and his wife, our own Minerva Ann Beller Baker, will accept the responsibility of guardianship of Melissa Ann and David William, that they have our permission and our blessing for them to take them with them in company with the Baker Wagon party which will join with the Fancher Wagon party near the Oklahoma Indian territory, and then it will be on its way to California. And Lord willing, perhaps some of the rest of us will, someday, be able join them in California, that is, as soon as possible.

David could hardly believe it. Then he saw Melissa coming and he didn’t know whether to run or stay, but she was on him, and everyone was laughing.

And David—it was Uncle Peter again—I and your aunt Evelina and all your family, charge you, with God and all these people as witnesses, that you, even though you are two years younger than your sister, are to look after Melissa Ann and take good care of her until you are told or know otherwise. Do you hear me, David?

Without a moment of hesitation, David answered quickly and strong, Yes, sir, I will!

And it was done, the meeting was over, but now, the mantle fell heavy upon David’s young shoulders. He and Melissa Ann were, after all, headed for California. Out of their family, only the two of them were going to California, except, of course, their older sister, Minerva Ann. It was almost too much to believe, but he had heard Uncle Peter say it. David had heard it with his own ears. And now, something else was new; he seemed to be thinking different about Melissa Ann. He knew that he would never be in charge of her, but he did know that he had to keep his vow to look after her—to take good care of her. He had a promise to keep and he promised to himself, right then and right there, that he would do the best that he could.

A Promise to Keep

David did not like being the center of attention, but he had become that. Now, all he could think of was just being with his family and especially Melissa Ann. It seemed to him like she had changed—like, all of a sudden. It was only a few minutes later that the big meeting broke up and David found himself with Aunt Evelina in the out-kitchen of her warm and cozy home. Then, there she was—Melissa Ann.

It was Aunt Evelina who broke the heavy but good silence. It is good that the two of you are excited about going to California. Uncle Peter and I have thought and prayed much about this, and we are also excited about your going to California. Only God knows how your journey will go and what your future will be, but all of us will work hard during these few days before the wagons move out. There is a lot that must be done. Now, we have had enough excitement for one day. Go visit with your friends and share with them your good news. Enjoy this evening and get all the rest that you can, because in the morning, we will sit with your Uncle Peter and plan out all that we must do for you to be ready. Captain Baker has shared that we have just a little more than two weeks, and then it will be time to go. Now go, but stay close enough so that you will hear the supper bell. And with that, Melissa Ann and David William were gone, and Aunt Evelina took her tired hands to her troubled brow and let the tears come down. Departure time would come soon enough.

And it was a good evening. David and Melissa hunted up some of their friends and all were full of talk. Sometimes David and Melissa were together, and sometimes, they were not. It was exciting for sure—sharing about the coming journey—but there was a sort of heaviness that was setting in too. Heaviness because everyone knew that some of their friends were going to make the journey and some were not. And so it was that they began to know about the heaviness. There would soon be times of goodbye and the wave of hands. It was coming all right, a time of a final goodbye and a last look just before the trail dust closed off their seeing and they would see one another no more. A feeling of chill was running across the shoulders and down the backs of David and Melissa, but it was more than the chill of a spring time evening. It was the chill of the unknown, but it was also the exciting future that rested in the hands of God. Deep thoughts for ones so young, deep thoughts now broken up due to the ringing of the supper bell. The evening fire was so inviting, and it was time to eat and just be together.

As David made his way toward his corn-shuck bed, he heard Aunt Evelina say, Be sure to tighten your rope so that you can sleep tight. And this made him wonder what sleep would be like on the trail to California. And what about Indians? About the only ones he ever saw around Crooked Creek were the Osages. He hardly ever saw any others around here, but Captain Baker had told the menfolk that Captain John T. Fancher (the other captain of the soon-to-be joined wagon trains) had said that they had better lay in a good supply of knives, guns, and stuff because there would be some Indians and that, for sure. He had heard that most of the Indians in the Oklahoma Indian territory were quite friendly, but he also said that he had heard that some of the worst were in the Utah territory, the one next to California. With that kind of thinking, David felt a cold chill running up and down his spine.

David shuddered, knowing that he didn’t even have a gun. He had an old homemade knife all right, but David had no gun of his own. And after all, he was now twelve-years old and about ready to finish up grade six of the Crooked Creek School. It was time, David reasoned, that he not only ought to have a gun, going on this trip and all, he needed a gun, and a good one too. Sure enough, and being a little big for his age and all, he could shoot a gun as good as anyone because his Uncle Peter and his brother William C. had seen to his learning that. Yes, sir, they had taught him well, but a gun? Didn’t have one of his own. Thinking of this great adventure coming up, David was thinking that he sure needed a gun all right. And that was his thinking as he drifted off to sleep.

A New Day, a New Time

After working all night, getting ready for the big journey ahead, plus watching for and fighting Indians now and then, David woke up to the good smell that he had grown up with. It was that warm smell of Aunt Evelina’s bacon, eggs, and good ol’ yellow-sweet cornbread. And the breakfast bell was ringing. He best be up, and he was. It was a new day and a new time. And all since yesterday, what with the big news and all, he was beginning to feel like he was nearly grown up already; well, at least he knew that he needed to be and he was sure enough on the way.

No, sir, nobody needed to tell him now that he had work to do, and nobody needed to show him what nor how to do it. He just knew, that’s all. So off to the outhouse, then to the yard pump and bucket for a wash up, and then it was breakfast, all with the message, Here’s David, the youngest new man about these parts. Watch out, Mr. New Day and New Time, here’s Mr. David William Beller ready to meet with Uncle Peter, older brother William Campbell, and the rest of the men, to get this business all planned out. Men’s work for sure. All of that, David said.

There wasn’t a lot of elbow room at the breakfast, and neither was there much talking. Eating some of Aunt Evelina’s good cooking and getting warmed up was the main thing right then. It made David feel good to see that Aunt Evelina had the help of his sisters, Elizabeth, Amanda Margaret, Louisanna, and Melissa Ann, with the preparations of the breakfast. He could see that they were helping where they could, and the thought came to him that he sure hoped that Melissa Ann was really learning real good how to cook and fix things to eat just like Aunt Evelina does. And what with all the kin folks and such, there were sure a lot of people to feed. David had never seen this many people at breakfast like this before.

And all too soon, it was over, and David was out the door. There were chores to do. As David left the warmth of the kitchen, he saw that the sun was just beginning to clear away the morning mist. The ground was covered with the heavy dew of the springtime, which made David’s feet cold in his worn boots. As David walked toward the family barn, he could see a lot of men were beginning to gather on the front porch and steps of the store, Beller’s Stand, the family’s place of business, known for a long time now.

As David walked along, part of him was still in Aunt Evelina’s warm kitchen, and he was thinking that it had been good to sit up close to that old pot-bellied kitchen stove. A lot of memories had been born around that ol’ stove, which had helped him get a lot of cold-weather mornings going or warmed up. But it was business now. First, as it had been now for three or four years, he was off to the barn to help with the milking of the cows and their feeding and watering, along with the calves, horses, and the six yoke of oxen.

Of late, David had been taking his younger brothers, ten-year-old James Pinkney Springs and eight-year-old Garrett Greer along with him to help, but today, it seemed that there was something new in this. In fact, as he was showing James and Garrett what and how to do things, it came to him that the something new was that he was now teaching them to take these chores on because he would soon be gone with the wagon train and that it would then be their job. They would have to do this without him.

Chores done, David told James and Garrett to go back to Aunt Evelina and see if she had some scraps that needed to be taken down to the hogs or some of the other animals. But for David, it was off to the porch of Beller’s Stand to catch up with what was going on. And it was a lot for sure.

David had no more than got settled down near his older brothers, William Campbell Jr. and Irvin Ervin, when there was a kind of hush that fell over the group (now a dozen or more). Captain John T. Baker, accepted head of the forming Baker wagon party and his son, George W. Baker, had come up on their horses. David now knew that it was this brother-in-law (George Washington Baker) who, along with his wife, Minerva Ann Beller Baker (he and Mellissa Ann’s sister), had accepted guardianship responsibilities over them.

The gathered group of men watched silently as the Baker men dismounted from their horses, tied up to carriage wheels, and then help themselves to a pouring of some of the range coffee from that bunged-up old pot from the big, flat stone near the blazing and feel good fire. David was just thinking how odd it all seemed and felt because it was so quiet, so still, that you could hear the women and girls going about the clearing and cleaning of the breakfast dishes and even the swallowing of the coffee from some of the men. Then Captain Baker began to speak.

Fellows, I have just come from a meeting with Captain Alexander Fancher, and according to our talks, it was agreed that we would join with his train just before we leave Arkansas. We agreed to this for two reasons. First of all, because Captain Fancher has headed out trains before—two or three times by now, I reckon—and his experience and that of some of his men will do us good. And second, because there is strength in numbers. We don’t know what we will face when we get out there into the territories of Kansas, Nebraska, and Utah. Could be that there will be some problems with some of the Indians along the way, and then there is also the Mormon question.

And David was thinking, Mormon question? What’s that? I need to talk to Uncle Peter about that before the wagons pull out! Mormon question? But David kept on listening as best he could.

Captain Baker went on with his talk. "I don’t have to tell you that these are troubled times. It is my understanding that the new president, Mr. James Buchanan, is sending a military detachment to the Utah territory to see what’s going on with this Mr. Brigham Young and those called the ‘Latter-Day Saints.’ I don’t know much about a lot that, I just know that this may be a harder trip than any that Captain Fancher has taken on before.

"So let me share a few of my concerns about these coming days. First of all, I am concerned about the unrest and possible problems about which I have just shared, and also, as a second concern, there is the news that Mr. Fancher has gathered more than 600 head of cattle that he plans to take to his older brother, John, who has a ranch out in Tulare County in California. Now, I figure that, with those 600 head of cattle and our own cattle, horses, and some mules—and not even counting the oxen and draft horses—when all the wagon trains have come together, we will have well over 1,000 head. As a third concern, as I have mentioned ‘all the wagon trains,’ I have learned from Mr. Fancher that there are about seven other small family-size wagon and cattle units that want to join in with us for all or parts of the journey. There is the Huff train from Benton County, which is already part of the Fancher train. Then there are the Mitchell, Dunlap, and Prewitt trains from Marion County, and the Poteet-Tackitt-Jones, the Cameron, the Miller trains, and some even from Johnson County. We will meet all of these parties when we join up with Mr. Fancher’s train near the Oklahoma Indian territory over in Benton County.

"And there are yet two more things that I am uneasy about. Now, this could be good or bad or a little of both. The first thing is that Alexander, Captain Fancher, shared with me that his brother, John, in Tulare County, California, has arranged for some cattle wranglers from Missouri to ride herd on his 600 head of cattle and that, for a small fee per head, we can put our cattle in with them. This most probably could be a good thing, but what concerns me is that those wranglers go by the name of ‘Missouri Wildcatters’. I don’t know about this, but it just does not have a good sound to it. We will just have to keep our eyes and ears open to any possible problems with these men. Now, it is true that the Missouri folk have had a lot of problems with the Mormons in Missouri, but we don’t need these hired cowpokes bringing any of that trouble with them as they are traveling with the rest of us. And the second thing is that there is a lot of unrest between travelers from both Arkansas and Missouri with the Mormons. The planned route for the wagon train is that it will pass right by the eastern side of the Salt Lake community and then on down south near to the southwest portion of the Utah territory at a place called Mountain Meadows.

"Now, I mention these two areas for two reasons. First, pretty much up until now, it has been customary now since the start of the Salt Lake community for these ten years, that those folk look for wagon trains so that they can sell goods to them or that the travelers might sell or trade goods with them. That has been a good thing for both those Mormon folk and for the travelers, but now, with this unrest going on, we won’t know for sure about this until we get there. Captain Fancher and I are in hopes that we will be able to buy or trade for some much-needed supplies with the folks of the Salt Lake community when we get there. But because of some unrest between us and the Mormons, and because of some other things, we are just not sure about this right now. And second, for travelers passing through the heart of the Utah territory, there are two main routes through and out of the territory into California. One heads due west toward California just across the north side of the Salt Lake community and aims for the Humboldt River and on west along what is called the California Trail. The other route, the one we are planning on, follows the old Spanish trail or southern route which passes through that place called Mountain Meadows. That area, Mountain Meadows, has been known and used for years and years now for a two-or-three-day place of rest for travelers and their animals. I am quite sure that, by the time we get to Mountain Meadows, we will be ready for some rest and repair before we head on toward the desert area on our way to California.

"Now, I want to be really honest with you all. Both Captain Fancher and I are concerned about what or how it will be for us once we cross over into the heart of the Utah territory. And oh, by the way, I keep referring to the words ‘the heart of the Utah territory’ because the Mormon people, under the direction of their leader, Brigham Young, are in a struggle, right now with the U.S. government on the subject of just exactly what is the Utah territory. What the Mormons want for their territory is more than twice, if not three times, more than what our U.S. government is willing for them to have. I call the part that the U.S. government is favoring for the Mormons to call home ‘the heart of the Utah territory’. Now, I am just saying that I have some grave concerns about these Mormon questions.

We need to try to talk this out and make our plans. We don’t have any time to waste. The month of March is now mostly gone. Here, it is Wednesday, March 25, and we need to be ready for the wagons to start moving out on Wednesday, April 15, towards the Oklahoma Indian territory to meet the Fancher train in Benton County. Now, that’s three weeks from today. I know that everybody has a lot to do to get done, but we can do it. With everyone helping each other, we can get it done. One more thing, I am told that there will be others meeting us there in or near Benton County and others along the way. Some will stick with us all the way to California and others will break off in the territories of Kansas, Nebraska, and northern Utah.

By this time, the sun was up good, and David could see every face, and those faces were filled with a lot of concerns of their own. He had plenty of questions he wanted to ask, but he knew that it was a mark of wisdom for him to just sit as quiet as he could and listen to the older ones, and he did. There were only a few questions from some, and then there seemed to fall upon everyone a spirit of heaviness as each was deep in their own thoughts. Silence! Then there was a sound of the clearing of one’s throat that was known to all present except for the few strangers and some of the newcomers. It was Uncle Peter.

Uncle Peter had been sitting at the back of the gathering of men, sitting in his favorite old oak chair, leaning against the wall of the store. With a kind of soft but solid thud sound, he settled all four legs on the porch floor and stood up. The men parted to one side and the other as he made his way to the front and took a place beside Captain Baker.

David leaned forward from his place on the ground and then stood up for a better look. It was already about the middle of the morning, and he knew what everyone knew: There was plenty of work that needed to be done, and he also knew that just about everybody was itching to get on with it, but David also knew what everyone knew: They were at a special moment in time and yet, even more than that, he felt like it was, for all of them, an opening in history. Somehow, David knew that, after Uncle Peter had said what was on his mind, life would never be the same ever again. He just knew it.

And there was that clearing of Uncle Peter’s throat, which was a sound that most all the men knew. A sound that David had heard all his life. It was like that of his dad Beller, but it was still Uncle Peter’s own sound.

Men, said Uncle Peter, "I have learned and have come to accept that life comes to all of us in three parts. There is the start, and there is the end, with the middle in between. As most of you know, I and my sweet Evelina have shared a lot about the start of our lives, both when we were apart and since we have been together now these twenty-eight years. We have shared the stories of the Beller families which have come all the way from the Palatinate of Germany to the shores of this growing nation in ol’ Virginia, through the Carolinas, Alabama, and now, for nigh onto twenty-four years already in this new state of Arkansas. I and some of you have been busy with the running of this Beller’s Stand, farming, trapping, and hunting game for our families, working at the grist mill grinding our corn and other grain, and even, like myself and the Harp men, hard at work digging up and cutting that hard Arkansas marble over at the Marble Falls Quarry.

Marble Falls Quarry Worked by Peter and the Harp Brothers—William, Elijah and Samuel

"I will be, good Lord willing, before the year is out, fifty-seven years old. There are times when I feel