Joe Orgill: The following was written by Helen, my grandmother, long after Bob passed away with a heart attack in 1944, in her home in Hawthorne, California, likely when she was in her 80's or 90's.

I was born December 14, 1885 in Mesa, Arizona. I lived there until I was 18 months old. Then we moved to Salt Lake City, Utah. I grew up in Salt Lake City and went to school at the LDS Business College. After graduating, I taught school at Midway and Layton in Utah. In 1907 my brother Farham and his friend went with the settlers who were sent by the church. In 1907, I went to visit Farham for two weeks and stayed 30 years. I traveled by train, The Great Northern. They had quite a joke about The Great Northern. The people used to say they would walk a ways and sit down and wait for the train to catch up with them.

I taught a couple of years in Canada, but I was not qualified. However, they allowed me to take the school and teach in between the visits of the inspector. If he felt I was doing all right, I could teach until he came again - maybe a few months later. He would always pass me. I taught the beginners, first, second and third in the town of Cardston. Five boys settled there taking up land and they made it their homes. It was the custom of new settlers to build little villages all around Cardston so they could live on their land, and that there could always be somebody to take jobs in the Church. The idea was to keep people active in church.

After teaching for some time, I moved back to Raymond, so I got a job in the post office. My cousin Lola's husband was the manager of the pot office. This young man used to come in and buy stamps and get his mail. I noticed that he didn't hang around town. he didn't hang around the pool hall or the Chinaman's. He was always gone, and the other boys would hang around when they got their jobs done. I got to find out that he was foreman of the big Kirkeldy Ranch - part of the church ranch series.

Bob was handsome and had a very kindly way with him too. He was made foreman of the cattle ranch when he was 19 years of age. He had men under him old enough to be his father. He showed good organization in his management.

Raymond had build a new opera house and it was opened on Dominion Day, the first of July which was the same to them as our Fourth of July. I met him that night and danced with him several times. He wanted to take me home. Well, we started going together. He would come in from the ranch and we'd go to the chapel to Sunday night church. One night just before he was leaving we were joking as young people do and having fun, and he said let's get married and live at the Kirkeldy. I laughed about it and thought it was a good joke. nothing more was said. Later at another date he said that he meant that. I said yes so we became engaged and were married in my brother's home by the Bishop of the ward. That was May 30th, 1910.

I went from the school room to that ranch to cook for the men. We had spent our honeymoon at the Double Horseshoe and came back to cook for 22 men with the help of Bob until we could secure a hired girl.

We didn't stay a long time at the Kirkeldy to manage the Buck Ranch. It was owned by Ray Knight. A happy occasion happened there when we had our first child, a lovely infant boy that we named Elden. We didn't stay long at the Buck Ranch - perhaps a year. Then we went to Utah for the winter and spent it with relatives. When we came back, there was another promotion waiting. Bob was made manager of the large Bar K2 Ranch, which was 15 miles outside of Cardston.

There was happiness and sorrow at the Bar K2. I was pleased to meet up with my old friends from teaching in the Cardston District. Also, I met President Edward J.Wood of the Stake, which stretched a hundred miles north into the snow. Anywhere where there was church people they went. I had appointments and would visit with him.

The boys forgot to close the gate that lead into the dipping vat. Bob was sent East with cattle. It was a very rainy season and Elden had rubber boots on. He was wading in the water. One little ditch lead down through the open gate into the dipping vat where he was drowned. It was a very sorrow stricken father who learned by telephone.

I went to Raymond and stayed at Sister Bryner's , a widow lady until Maureen was born on September 27, 1913. I had little Elden with me. The thoughts I have now of Maureen is what a beautiful baby she was. She was so pretty, and a good baby who never gave much trouble. Then we took the train back and Bob met us.

We used to have dances in the homes at the Bar K2. I remember how loving Maureen was. She went to sleep during the dance. One of the ladies picked her up and held her. I remember how good she was. When she saw me she put her hand on my face. It was such a loving caress that I never could forget it, the love that Maureen had in her heart. She was a good little child, a little different from Elden. He was a boy and roused about. He would go down to the barn and around, and Maureen was more like a little girl. I'll always remember Elden coming up to the house with a bouquet of wild flowers. He handed them to me and said, "See mom, pitty showers, pitty showers!" That's a memory I can't forget.

Melba was born at the Bar K2. I had been working extra hard and my health was run down. We went as usual and stayed at a widow's place as was the custom. This was in Raymond. She was a month longer than expected so I stayed a month before she was born. She was always a delicate baby, while Elden and Maureen were always health. Melba carried that through life, more delicate, not so strong as the average baby. To this day her health isn't as good as we would like it to be.

Bob decided he wanted to go in for himself and not be a foreman anymore. To begin with, we rented Charlie Kinsey's Ranch. In the winter time we rented a house in Raymond. While there, Margaret was born. That was in 1919. That's when the flue was so terrible. Melba almost died of it. Margaret had a little cough but it didn't last. The rest of us didn't get it.

Now on that ranch, we didn't have a television. We didn't have things to entertain them. But I remember how they love paper dolls. Those paper dolls were cut out of fashion plates. They had them by the dozen. I remember that Margaret was always a lively baby. She was down crawling around and they had such a time with their paper dolls because she was interested in playing with them too. She was just a baby. One day I was clearing off some shelves in the living room where they played. I cleared off some paper dolls up there, and Melba cried out, "Mother! Don't touch them. They're in heaven. They're the ones that died!"

When Christmas came (Margaret was still a baby, it could have been 1920 or 1921), Bob had extra jobs with the church and the night company. He was away working and I was worried to death whatever I would do for Christmas because I couldn't get to town. So I pitched in Christmas Eve early and started making rag dolls and home made candy. I was going to give them the best Christmas I could. And then the joy of the night in the blizzard we heard horse's hoofs. Bob opened the door. He had a gunnysack over his shoulder. He looked just like Santa Claus. He was covered with snow from top to bottom. Anyway, the children had gone to bed. Of course I was going to stay up as long as I needed. And there he had three pretty dolls, candy, nuts and an orange or two - all the things that went to make up a regular Christmas scene there. When the children woke up in the morning they knew that Santa Claus had been there, and it was one of the happiest Christmas' we had. Bob was that kindhearted. Can you imagine riding all that way from Kristen County on horseback, over 60 miles.

We went to Raymond in the winter and decided to buy a home. But before that there is a little incident I'd like to tell. A couple came to see us who had worked at the Bar K2. It had been a bad drought. We had lost all our savings, This couple had lost everything too. We did have something. In fact we did have $10. In the morning as we bid them good bye, Bob reached for the ten dollars and handed it to them. When we went into the house I said, "Bob, they won't pay us back." Bob said, " I think they will. If they don't they're worse off than we are."

We rented a little house in Raymond. Margaret was two years old and stayed home with me while the girls were older and mixed up with the neighbor's children. They used to go to Primary and Sunday School. Well, Margaret was still a little too young to go to Primary, but still she wanted to go. After the children had gone, I happened to look down toward the church. It was about a quarter of a mile - a few blocks anyway

There she was on the dead run toward the church. I ran after her and picked her up. She had been playing in the dirt. She had her old dress on. Her hair hadn't been combed. I caught her just in time. She wanted to go to Primary. She said "Primary Mama! Go Primary!" Well, I took her home and consoled her the best I could.

Well, they are things that pass. There was an epidemic of sores that came on the children's heads. Margaret had one at the top of her head. She loved Primary and Sunday School. She didn't want to miss anything. Once I had taken her to Primary, so she knew about what it was. But anyway, when Sunday morning came, she had her face washed and was in her ordinary clothes. But it was a nice dress she had on. The girls, Melba and Maureen, were ready to go to Sunday School. I never even thought about Margaret going since she had that sore on the top of her head. But I had combed her hair a little over it. She was so determined. Margaret really had a lot of will power. She said, "Sunday school Mom! I go Sunday school!" She would not give up. So all I could do was let her go with the girls. When she came home, she was smiling. I said, "Well, what did they think about your hair?" She said, "The teacher kind of touched and smoothed it over and kind of smiled at me." She was so happy to have gone to Primary.

Well, we moved back to the farm in time. It was here when the girls learned their traits. The kind of lives they were to live. We were very poor and could not afford a hired man. So, Margaret rode the horse. One day a neighbor was there riding a horse, and Margaret was behind her clinging around her waist. The neighbor's mother was there, and I let out a scream. the neighbor lady laughed. She said, "Helen, Margaret was born on a horse! What's the matter with you? She'll never come to any harm. She's just a natural little horseback rider."Well, the girls helped me around the place. We not only brought in vegetables, but we bought the seeds and planted them. It was dry but we carried water by bucket full - 5 gallon cans and watered them especially the ones we wanted for cucumbers.The years were passing. Margaret was always good on horses. She rode with dad and cut out cattle.The great desire of my life was to to to the Temple and have our Sealings and do our Temple work. Gradually, the time had gone and we went to the Temple. I got white dresses for the girls. It was the excursion from the Raymond Ward, and we had to go into town 15 miles. We were up at 3 in the morning. We went in a buggy. When we went to the Temple my heart was filled with joy and it was catching. The children were happy too.I was pregnant and expecting a child in another month. A neighbor lady was like me. We went through it together. So we sympathized with one another and were filled with joy. I kept looking over on the other side where the men were sitting and notice that my husband Bob was interested. His eyes followed what as going on, and he listened very attentively, and that filled me with joy, because as I've told before he was very dedicated to the cattle and didn't get to church regularly. But that day was the most gloriest one I had ever spent. Then we went home, and in a month, this time in the home we rented, the baby was born. How we had longed for a boy after we had lost our darling Elden. It was a lovely chubby boy. Two of his playmates who were twins each weighed five pounds when born, and our boy weighed ten pounds. He was so precious we didn't know what we were going to name him. The girls, it seemed, loved him as much as I did. What he was to be called was so important. We knew that he was our only one and should be named from Grandfather Heber C. Kimball. In fact, the president of our Relieve Society told me,"Oh Helen, you must name him after him." So we all sat around the table, three girls their father and I.We went through all the names we could think of. But we could not decide until we came to Linden, and everyone of us liked Linden. We decided to call him Heber Chase Linden. Later we called him Linden.

We went back to the ranch. Melba was a home girl as Maureen was, and they helped me a lot. Melba was so good to our baby. She took him under her wing and cared for him. The other two girls loved him just as much as she did, but they had other things more interesting. Nothing took the place of Linden to Melba. I remember I could go away shopping and didn't fear at all to leave him with Melba. Of course as he grew up, he was alone on the farm and the girls went off to school. A little boy had been drowned in a creek about that time, and we had a creek running through our place.We always worried about out little boy because he played alone so much. But sometimes he'd walk over a mile to some other boys, or they would come over to our place.

One day when he was playing alone, I heard an awful scream. It was right down where the creek was. I went running down and I found that he had fallen in. But he had fallen into the bushes and they were holding him up.I took him and dressed him again.For a long time after when playmates or any company would come, he would say, "Come on! Come on! I'll show where I almost drowned." He would always go down to this place and point to that spot. I was so frightened that I stuck his neck right down under the water. He had good reason to say what he did because he thought he was really being drowned.

We went back to the farm. Years went on. Margaret became her father's hired help. She road the range with him and cut out cattle and horses that were ours. It was a wild place. We not only brought in the vegetables but planted them. I carried dozens of five gallon cans of water. We wanted to have lots of pickles. We used to put them up by the gallon. Then the girls would herd the cows and bring them in. They would milk them and sometimes I would.

I could see as Linden grew older how he would never be another Margaret. His interest was in books. I had done like neighbors and bought a set of knowledge and children stories and a religious one. He used to pour into them and other books had gotten for the girls. He seemed especially interested in the one about our church.

Not long ago I heard my son, Linden, give his Testimony. In that, he said, "My mother taught me to love the Prophet Joseph when I was just a little boy.," I hadn't even thought about it until this Testimony how we had talked so much. I would be scrubbing clothes on the board. He would come in and say "Mama, tell me a 'toy! Tell me a 'toy! That is something I heard so often you would be surprised. So I would tell him stories as I was washing, and he would sit there and listen so attentively. As the years went by, his dad would use his son on the range. But he would cut out the wrong horses. His mind hadn't been on them. He hadn't been born on a horse like Margaret.

I remember going over to a neighbors house two miles away. Linden, on a horse, would ride behind me. Every time the horse would run or trot, a little I would get excited. I rememer how he would laugh and laugh and say, "Oh Mother we're safe. You don' t need to be afraid on a horse." Now there I was, raised in Salt Lake City, never been on a horse. And there was my son telling me how to do it, how there was no danger, and how it was a lot of fun.So we would get to our neighbor Hulda Cardwell. She would do my hair, and we would ride back home agian.

We built out new school house. It was a nice one even if it was just one room. Linden lacked one month of being six years old. I thought they would take him anyway. So we got him his pencil and notebook,and he went off so happy to school. But in a little while a very disconsolate little fellow was seen walking down the road to home. He said they wouldn take him. There wasn't enough seats, and he lacked enough age to go to school. He didn't cry, but you could see he was very disappointed. I felt happy in a way because I could teach him at home all the things I wanted him to know.

Two districts joined together, the Mammoth and ours. which was called the OK. We held dances and met together for Sunday school. Bob was known to be particular how the dances would be run, because we could easily get a bad reputation way out in the country. One day a group of men came that Bob had been raised with. He knew them really well, but he could see they had a nip, they had been drinking. They came jolly, already to come in. Bob said: "Where are your wives?" They said: "At home, they're all right." Bob said, "Go home and get them, and then come back and have a good time with us." Golden Snow said afterward that was a fine thing, not a feeling hurt. They didn't come back and everything went smoothly.

Maureen and Margaret were the dancers. They took after the Orgills who all were good dancers. They would go into town to Raymond and go to the dances. I sewed formals for them. Of course Melba went too, but she was the most sympathetic child. She knew that we were going through the dark days of the depression and every cent counted. She didn't say one word about her sisters having formals while she just wore a Sunday dress. Bob walked in, stood listening and said, "What about Melba's formal?" I said, "I know Melba should have a formal. " Then Melba smiled, and we knew she wanted one. When we went to town we got the prettiest material we could find. I took great pains to make it as nice as possible, so that they were all happy.

In 1934, the Hutterites bought up nearly all of the OK district. Bob decided to go into the oil business so we moved to a town called Picture View, where he built a service station. Maraget was his main helper then. She would fill up the gas just like the men would. She was always full of fun and went after her work. Maureen went to Salt Lake City to visit with relatives. Then when she came back we decided to let Melba go to Arizona as Aunt Aina had invited her. She said Melba could go on with her high schoolwork which she did. She spent the next season in Mesa, Arizaona, the town where I was born when it was first founded Melba graduated from school in Mesa, and then she came home.

We were struck with another deep depression in 1938. The Canadian Governemnt sypathized with the farmers. They made a law if they did not get crops they did not have to pay their debts. So they did not suffer, but we were among the ones that did since most of the business was with the farmers. We talked it over and the family unanimously decided to move back to Salt Lake City, which we did.