Recollections Awakened by the Late Semi-Centennial Celebration

RECOLLECTIONS AWAKENED BY THE LATE SEMI-CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION. BY HEBER J. GRANT.

During the recent celebration of the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of the entrance of the Pioneers into Salt Lake Valley, very many thoughts crowded themselves upon my mind, as I contrasted the difference between the Salt Lake Valley of that day and the Salt Lake Valley of today. I was seated in one of the large show windows of the

main store building of Zion's Co-operative Mercantile Insti- tution, as the Semi-Centennial procession moved down Main Street, and I contrasted that immense structure in which I was seated with the one and two story adobe dwelling house which at one time stood upon that identical spot, and in which res- idence I first saw the light of day. The house was built by my father, who died when I was a babe of nine days, and I lived there until I was a little over six years old, when I moved with my mother to Second East Street, where I now reside. Having virtually seen Main Street change from a village thoroughfare to a business avenue, I recalled the time when Zion's Savings Bank, a splendid building of five stories, was occupied by the home of the late Daniel H. Wells, and in my mind's eye I saw the high rock wall which separated the home of my childhood from that of "Squire Wells." Every- body familiarly called him "Squire Wells" in those days. Two more lovable or kinder men neverthan my lived childhood neighbors, President Daniel H. Wells on the north, and Bishop Edward Hunter on the south. Another kind friend was Jos. B. Elder, who recently died in the Fourteenth

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Ward. He had a little frame grocery store and cooper shop which occupied the corner where now stands the Godbe-Pitts drug store. Many and many an hour have I spent as a child sitting in his store and chatting with him. As I thought of the fine structure known as the "Hooper and Eldredge Block," I recalled the familiar home of the late Bishop Edward Hunter, which originally stood upon that ground, and scores of incidents and sayings of his which were amusing, interesting and instructive came to my mind, prom- inent among them being his oft repeated counsel, "Pay your tithing, brethren, and be blessed." Above all I recall his won- derful kindness to me in childhood days. I thought of the

hundreds of times that I had crept through the pole fence which divided his home from ours, to play with his boys, and I also remember climbing very often the board fence south of his barn, to romp and play with one of the most beloved compan- ions of my childhood, George Hooper, son of the late Capt. William H. Hooper, who was called to his eternal rest in his youth. Where George's home then stood, now stands the •plain but substantial "Hooper Block." As I looked across the street at the "Constitution Build- ing," I remembered the time when the "Old Constitution Building" stood there, and as I gazed at the "Home Fire Building," I remembered the old "Globe Bakery" and barber shop adjoining, which occupied the site when I was but five or six years old. In looking up the street at the Pioneer Monument in stone and bronze, I recalled many, many incidents in the life of Brigham Young, and one of them of my childhood days I

will relate, as it illustrates what it is impossible to do in stone and bronze, viz: the love which filled Brigham Young's heart for his fellow men. When I was about six years old, in the winter of 1862, the sleighing was very good and as I had no opportunity of cutter-riding in those days, none of our family possessing a sleigh or team, boy-like, I used quite frequently to run into the street, and "hang on behind" some of the outfits which passed our home, and after riding a block or two would jump off and run back.

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On one of these occasions I got on the sleigh belonging to President Brigham Young, and as all who were acquainted with him know, he was very fond of a fine team, and was given to driving quite rapidly. I therefore found myself

skimming along with such speed that I dared not jump off, and after riding some time I became very cold. President Young happening to notice me hanging on his sleigh im- — mediately called out "Brother Isaac, stop!" He then had his driver, Isaac Wilson, get out and pick me up and tuck me snugly under the robes on the front seat. President Young waited some time before saying anything to me, but finally he asked, "Are you warm?" and when I answered "yes," he inquired my name and where I lived. He then talked to me in the most kindly manner, told me how much he had loved my father and what a good man he was, and expressed the hope that I would be as good as my father. Our conversation ended in his inviting me to come up to his office some day and have a chat with him. This I very soon afterwards did, and from the day of this childhood acquaint- ance with President Young, I ever found in calling at his office ox home, a most hearty welcome, and I learned not only to respect and venerate him, but to love him with an affection akin to that which I imagine I would have felt for my own father had I been permitted to know and return a father's love. In nothing did Brigham Young shine more than in his love for children, and they repaid his love with love and confidence in him. The people of the world, who knew him not, with their prejudices against his system of religion, no doubt think he was unworthy of respect, but those who, like myself, have known and loved him since childhood, can tes- tify of his goodness and of his love for his fellows, and to be

able to do this is of greater moment than to join in any de- gree of praise that may be accorded him on the score of his great achievements. It would take too much space for me to relate all the feelings and memories that crowded upon each other while sitting in the Z. C. M. I. window looking upon the Semi- centennial procession as it passed down East Temple Street, carrying with it the evidences of the peace, prosperity, pro-

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gress, and happiness of the present day; nor can I write all I thought and felt as I contemplated the trials of the Pioneers as recollection of them was awakened by the passing of one of their "reproduced trains;" and the float of the "Sea-Gulls," that brought up the remembrance of the mighty deliverance from starvation wrought out by these white-winged .messen- gers of God destroying the crickets, which otherwise would have devoured the first crop of the Pioneers, and left them to perish of hunger in the wilderness. This article is already long enough, but I can not close without saying that the grand celebration of Utah's Semi- centennial was worthy of Utah's Pioneers; an honor to those who managed it; and on the other hand, the Utah Pioneers were worthy of just such a magnificent celebration.