"Going to the roots of the Frank Family"
June 26, 2019




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Do you know this little girl?

Luella Frank Jensen
A Sketch or History of My Life - Started in January 1960

Louis and Luella
Louis and Luella - 5 Months Old

I was born 4 December 1891 in Providence, Utah, the second child and eldest daughter of Louis and Ella Elizabeth Haderlie Frank. Our family consisted of twelve children, four sons and eight daughters. They named me Luella after both of my parents and my twin brother was named Louis Winfield. He lived only nine months - died of pneumonia. We were born at the home of my mother's parents, John Ulrich and Anna Zollinger Haderlie. Dr. Ormsby and Elizabeth Fuhriman assisted in bring us into the world. Elizabeth recently returned from studying Obstetrics and this was her first case. She said she was about ready to resign her profession as it took five days to get us here.

When I was two years old we lived in Logan Canyon during the summer, where Father hauled logs for Crowther's Saw Mill. Mother said she gave me a cup with bread and milk in it, and when I was so quiet she found me behind the door feeding a water snake. Father got the lumber out to build a home and got the frame work up and roof on. This was later sold to Jacob Zollinger and is the home where William R. Zollinger lived.

We left here and moved to Nounan, Bear Lake, Idaho, on the church ranch. We were living on a hill. The snow had become drifted and crusted. Father made me a hand sled and gave me a start down the hillside. I went out of sight in a snow bank at the bottom of the hill. Father could always find something to laugh at and was laughing while Mother was nearly frantic until he got me out safely. We lived in four different homes while in Nounan. At one home there was a water pump on the porch. One morning when it was covered with frost, I put my tongue on the spout, and it stuck there. So like a child, I pulled it off - the skin stayed with it. It is surprising "how I can talk", but nothing very hot can go into my mouth to this day. We lived in Nounan about 3½ years. I went to school in Nounan 1 year. The winters were really cold; we wore woolen clothes and leggings. We could walk on the crusted snow 2 or 3 miles. My sister Hazel went with me. One day as we were standing by the stove to get warm, I had my back toward the stove which was red hot, and my dress got burned, burning the back out. My teacher was Ella Mae Morgan, a red head. She later became Mrs. Nephi Skinner.

One day Hazel and I were playing by the mowing machine, I was on the seat and happened to put my foot on the gadget that moves the knife as she touched the knife, so it cut her finger, not bad however, but she insisted that I put my finger on the chopping block and let her hit it with the hatchet, which I did as I always gave in to her. I am still wearing the scar. Of course, she got spanked.

Another time, Hazel and I took our brother Austin to school with us as Father and Mother went to Montpelier to shop. We were told to hurry home after school was out, but instead we played with other children, so when we got home we were punished and sent to bed, but Austin got some candy. Of course, we were really mistreated we thought.

Another time Hazel and I were to do the churning while Father and Mother were doing the evening milking. Mother fixed it all ready in a big barrel churn on the platform outside the kitchen door. I suppose we were told not to open the churn. But like children anxious to get done, we decided to peek, and while I lifted the lid, she moved the crank and the butter in the curd stage was emptied on the platform. Well again like children, we got a big dishpan and a dipper and gathered it up dirt and all. We really had speckled butter. Mother picked out all she could, then finished churning it. Then she rendered it and used it for cooking. That's once we really deserved a spanking we didn't get.

We had 3 lambs, really playful. Hazel, Austin, and I each claimed one. They would give us a real surprise at times with a run over our large woodpile, and we would get a bunt, all unexpected, sending us in circles or head over heels. Father had a large brood sow that was a real pet. Hazel and I used to take a small bucket and each sit on one side of her and pretend we were milking, but no milk. We would gather bird eggs along ditch banks and anywhere we could find them. We knew practically each bird and their eggs. Sometimes we boiled them and decided to have a play dinner. Sometimes there were birds in them when we opened them. We never did eat any of the eggs, but we did pretend. We gathered pine needles for some kind of tea we thought, and at one time, Father had been shoeing a horse, and we gathered some shavings from the hooves for coconut. Our play table looked inviting, but I'm sure it wouldn't have been very nourishing.

One summer Mother's parents came in a ludon or white top buggy to visit us. Grandpa used to chew tobacco, and he left some in the buggy, I suppose to finish later. Hazel and I got it and chewed it while we played in the buggy. Well, we were really sick. We gave up that habit in a hurry.

We got our drinking water from a clear creek that ran though our back yard. Hazel was lying on her stomach getting a dipper full, I stepped over her, not even touching her, anyway she fell in. We thought she was doomed as the creek emptied into Bear River several blocks away, but she came out safely. Another time I was bringing a small bucket of water to the house. It was just starting to rain, a clap of lightning came, it must have struck the bucket as I spun around like a top and was sick for several hours.

Bands of Indians used to come through the valley, and when we disobeyed Mother, she said, "The next time the Indians come, I'll have to give you to them." One day we were gathering thistles to eat. We would strip them and skin them, and they were really good to eat. While doing this, we heard Indians coming. We sure picked up our feet and ran to the house and crawled under the bed to hide. We saw a buck go past the window on his pony. They camped outside our place several days. Father had several squirrel traps and caught squirrels for the County. He had to cut their tails off, then he got paid so much for each. He took them to the Indians after cutting the tails off. They rolled them in some kind of mud and baked them in their bon fire. They would break off the dry mud, and the skin came off with it. The meat looked like chicken breast. A papoose was born while they were camped there. Father took us to see it. We thought it was really cute. Though I was afraid of Indians then, I love to have them come to see me now.

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Last Updated: January 26, 2019  
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