Samuel Arthur Sackett was the first Sackett to join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was so fun to read his oral history to his daughter Julia (found on familysearch.org). What an interesting life he led!
Birthday: November 22, 1841
Birthplace: Rock Island, Illinois
Parents: David Alexander Sackett & Sarah Lawrence
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Excerpts from his History
As I was reading I found that Samuel was pretty accident prone and has had quite a few near death experiences throughout his life. I've bolded those throughout.
Crossing the plains with the Oregon Trail:
Our first stop was at Council Bluffs located on the banks of the tributary of the Missouri River. This was the last settlement of white people and we waited here for an enlargement of our company before going into the Indian Country. Leaving here with one hundred and fifteen wagons, we went about five miles and had to Ferry across the Missouri River. It took two days for the company to accomplish this feat. From here we traveled up the Platt River until we had to cross it.
This was about the last place for some distance that the feeding was good so we made camp. This was a quicksand region and while playing with my playmates I discovered that by moving my feet I could work myself down into the sand. I kept this up until I was in the sand up to my knees then I found I could not get out so I sent my playmates after my father. When he saw the condition I was in, he got three or four end-gates from the wagons and put them on the sand around me so they could stand on them without sinking into the sand. They put a band around me and put a pole through it, father on one end and another man on the other end pulling, and me working my feet to loosen the sand until they got me out of it. My lesson was well learned.
About two days later we started to move again. Father, a companion, and myself started out ahead of the company to locate a good place to camp before the wagons arrived. While making this trip, I met with my first accident. I was placed on a horse from which I fell and was picked up for a dead child. During this trip we were caught in a terrific hail storm. We were close to an Indian Camp or Lodge, seven or eight in all. One of the Indians called us in to his Teepee to get out of the storm. We could see our wagons coming. The storm lasted only a few minutes, but was so hard and the hail was so large that the stock became frightened and bolted. Hail was packed like ice up to the hubs of the wagon wheels. One man having a very choice horse, held on to it, but his hands were beaten to sores and his horse was all skinned by the hail. After the storm had cleared several parties started to gather the stock. They hunted the rest of the day and all of the second day returning in the evening. They had traveled miles to recover them.
In crossing the Platt River to the Elk Horn, there was a very hard wind storm. It blew two pillows out of the wagon which mother was riding in. I recovered one of them but the wind kept the other one rolling so fast that I could not get my horse far enough ahead of it to get off and catch it. It took us three or four days to make this part of our journey. The last two days were very stormy.
When we arrived at Elk Horn River, it had overflowed it's bank. There was about fifteen hundred people waiting to cross it. The first arrivals to this place had built a raft and were ferrying the members of their company across. My fathers cousin, Fred Swatkey, was in our company. This was his third trip across the Plains and he knew of the hardships that we would be called upon to suffer so we were better prepared in some ways for the journey than the rest of the company, especially with guns and ammunition. He had made his wagon box purposely to be used as a ferry in crossing the rivers. The contents of the wagons were taken across in his wagon box. The people were taken on the raft and the stock had to swim the river. It took five or six of us working night and day to get every thing across. (The Oregon Trail computer game was pretty accurate!!)
My companion, George Scroff, and myself were put to watch the stock as they came out of the water so none would stray away. We walked back and fourth for some time, then George suggested that we set a strip of dry grass afire that was in line of our walking and each one of us would watch one end of it. As the fire burned we had a shorter distance to walk and could see a long way by it's light. I would stand until the fire got near me, then would jump back. A little whiff of wind caused a blaze in the fire and I gave a big jump backwards and went right in the river. I gave a call for help and went straight to the bottom. George came to my rescue. The river was very swift. I was taken down with the current aways and as I came out of the water George saw me by the light of the fire and pulled me out. This was about ten o'clock at night. The men worked over me for some time and then gave me up for dead and wanted to get back to work. Father went to the wagon and told mother what the men thought but she would not listen to the idea of burying me and insisted that I would be buried alive. So father went back to where I was lying and told the men how mother felt. They said, "All right we have no time to waste over a dead person with so much to do," and left father to work with me. He kept working over me until the next afternoon, about fourteen hours, before I showed any signs of life.
From here until we reached our journeys end the Indians got away with our stock twice but they were recovered both times without much trouble. One time while camping on the Plains, father was cooking supper, an Indian came to camp and shook his blanket over the food cooking in the kettles in the hope of scaring us from camp so they could have the food. They had the idea by doing this the white people would leave the food for them to eat. Father grabbed the Indian, chained him to the wagon wheel and gave him a whipping. This frightened every one in camp thinking it would cause trouble with the Indians. A short time after this incident took place six Indians came to camp. The Chief was one of them. Father explained the conditions and said, "Every one in camp was afraid their horses would be stolen and the camps molested," the Chief laughed and said he would send some Indians to camp at sundown to get the stock, promised to give them a good feed and return them in the morning at any time they wished them returned. Some of the folks were afraid to do this doubting the Chiefs word, but the stock that had been turned over to the Indians were returned in the morning and had been well fed.
Just as we were leaving camp, at the foot of the Cascade Mountains on the Columbia River, my sister Emma met with a very painful accident. The wagon in which she was riding went through a gully, it threw her against the brakes cutting a very deep gash in her check and knocked out some of her teeth. She still bears the scar from this cut.
We arrived in Fosters, Oregon about October 4, 1853, just one hundred and four days from the day we left our camp in Iowa. We made camp under a large fir tree. Shortly after our arrival it started to storm and it was ninety-six days before we saw the sun. It was very wet but not so very cold.
After living in Oregon, the family moved to California for his mothers health. There he joined with parts of the gold rush as has quite a few prospecting/mining experiences all around the west.
In 1855 we lived in Green Mountain Gulch. One day I wanted to go prospecting. Father gave me a certain amount of work to do thinking I would not get it finished, and when I was finished, I obtained an old spoon and tin can from mother and started up the gulch. I found a crevice in a rock that looked pretty good and started to dig and scrape with my spoon. I found the rock was flat but could not remove it so went on up to the head of the gulch where a claim was located. It was run by Thomas and Jerry Sitton. I asked if I could borrow a pick. Thomas laughingly said, "Yes - shovel and pan too." So I returned to my rock removed it and scraped out a crevice clean with my spoon. I went to the river to pan it out but did not understand how to settle the gold.
Thomas Sitton being curious as to what I was doing had followed me to the river. On seeing me said, "My boy you have a whole pan of dirt." He helped me pan out the dirt then we returned to camp to show the rest of the men my find. Jerry Sitton looked at it and was going to put it in his bins but Thomas stopped him saying he had given it to me. Jerry did not approve but Tom was firm so we went to his cabin dried the dirt and blew out the black sand. He said, "You haven't a pan full of gold, but do you know how much money you will have?" I did not of course. He put it in a buck skin gold bag and told me I had six hundred dollars worth of gold and that I should take it to my father, which I did as fast as I could. I was very happy. It was through this incident that my oldest sister, Rosetta, met Thomas Sitton. Two years later they were married.
In 1860 I went to Nevada and got a job hauling ore from the mines. I worked at this job for one year. In the fall of 1860 I hauled lumber out of the Sierra Nevada Mountains into Carson Valley using oxen for teams.
In 1860 I went to Nevada and got a job hauling ore from the mines. I worked at this job for one year. In the fall of 1860 I hauled lumber out of the Sierra Nevada Mountains into Carson Valley using oxen for teams.
One bright sunny day I stopped in the shade of a large tree for lunch after tending my team, I spread my lunch, harnessed my team and went on down the trail and again fed the team and spread my lunch under another large tree. Looking up at the mountains I saw a small cloud but attaching no importance to it I went on eating my lunch. Without a warning a flash of lightening hit and splintered to atoms, the first tree I had spread my lunch under.
I was working in a company of four at this time. I split from them sold my team and outfit and went prospecting for gold in the Humbolt Mountains. I knocked about the country for a while, lost all I had, and finally beat my way back to Gold Hill, Nevada. Here I obtained work shingling for the Mill foreman.
There was an epidemic raging here and from my position on the roof I could see seven or eight funerals a day. I was not feeling very well myself and seeing the town doctor coming down the street I crawled down from the roof and asked him if he could do any thing for me. He looked at my tongue, felt my pulse, asked some questions then said, "I can give you something to keep you alive for three or four days but you had better get out of this place." I immediately went to the foreman and explained matters to him. Everyone was leaving the place as fast as possible so I could not get passage on any of the conveyances. One day a man came along with a mule pack train and wanted someone to ride the bell mare of the train. He gave me the job. A mule would not follow a mule, so they had to use a horse for the lead of the train. At last I was on my way home. I traveled all day in the rain, slept in wet blankets that night and traveled all the next day in the rain. There was no way of drying my blankets so I slept the second night in wet blankets. The third night of this trip we reached Diamond Springs, where we made camp. By this time I was too sick to ride any farther so my pack was unloaded and I tried to get passage on the Stage which traveled to Folsom, a distance of thirty miles. The driver told me I could not get a seat in the stage for two months.
I went to the Boarding House Hotel for a room. The landlord seeing I was sick sent me to a room and had his wife bring me some toast and tea. While serving me she saw an Odd Fellow pin I was wearing, it was my fathers. He had left it with me on a previous visit to me. She said her husband was a member of the same Lodge and that he was well acquainted with my father David Sackett and as much as I was his son they would see I was taken care of. He obtained a seat in the stage for me and gave me a letter of introduction and a list of places I was to stop at. I took the stage to Folsom, then the train to Sacramento. I went down the Sacramento River on a steam boat one hundred miles to San Francisco. I stopped at the Woodward Hotel. From here I went to Petaluma on another steam boat.
We arrived there sometime after dark the next day. I was taken from there to my home in a buggy. I was put to bed and father called a doctor. After three days father became discouraged and sent for a doctor from San Francisco. This doctor failed to obtain any response to his efforts. Then a doctor Klunez from Sacramento was called. He was considered the best in the State. Father told him not to spare horse flesh but to telegraph ahead for fresh horses to be ready for him. When he arrived he gave me twelve hours to live. My stepmothers sister was a homeopathic doctor but father had told her he didn't want any of her sugar coated pills. Her niece was a very fine musician (pianist). Having been sick for four weeks I was very restless and could not keep quiet. Music had a restful quieting effect on me so she would come and play for me everyday. She was in when the doctor gave me up. She ran home and told her mother and she came right over and asked permission to help me. The doctor said, "Yes, that she could not hurt me." She immediately rolled me in ice cold sheets (cold spring water). All three doctors were there and were very anxious to know what she could do for me and were very attentive. She kept putting fresh cold sheets on me for some few hours. Doctor Klunex staying on to see the effects of the treatment was quicker to see the results than the woman giving the treatment. He rushed to tell my father that the fever had been broken and I would live. I weighed one hundred and eighty-five pounds when I took sick and when I was able to be up and around again I weighed ninety-four pounds. This was in the winter of 1860-1861.
In the spring, April 12, 1862, I was nearly twenty-one years of age. I left home and went into Nevada, Oregon, and Montana.
On this trip I discovered...the John Day River mines, they are called by that name to this day. The John Day River is a tributary to the Columbia River.
A town was started there and was called Canyon City, There was seventy-five men in our company. We crossed a bar in the river and while crossing my attention was attracted to a rock. I remarked that if we didn't go too far before camping I was coming back to examine it. We traveled three-fourths of a mile when we stopped for lunch.
I started back to investigate the rock I had seen and told the men if I hadn't returned when they were ready to move on where to cash my saddle and hide my horse. They tried to persuade me not to go because the Indians were mean and vicious and it was not safe to travel alone. But I was out prospecting and would not find anything along the trail. Back at the river I panned out a pan of dirt and got two or three dollars worth of gold. This looked good to me so I went up the river and panned again. This was not so good but undaunted I traveled up over the gulch about two miles and there I found dirt that looked pretty good. I took off my coat, put a pan of dirt in it, tied up the corners, put another pan of dirt under my arm, shouldered my pick and shovel and started back to the river. I panned out one pan of dirt, got good results, decided to take the other pan to camp. As I came close to camp, under the river bank I heard them making preparations for hunting me. When I entered the camp, the word was sent out that the "Old Prospector" had returned. I had earned this name by my desires to go on prospecting trips.
I went to my brother-in-laws camp and asked for some supper. When he saw what I had he wanted to give a whoop (that being the signal for having found a strike) but I was hungry and wanted my supper first. When I had finished eating, he gave his whoop. In just a few seconds every man was in our camp, but being convinced that the hills wouldn't run away during the night, they consented to wait until morning. Then all made their stakes.
Religion:
(After an incident with a member of the congregation letting his dogs run free ruining Samuel's crops, Samuel let his watchdog out on them and kills quite a few of the other dogs.)
The next day the Minister came to see me. I was plowing and had to get a certain amount done by night fall in order to get permission to go out for the evening. He talked so long that I told him he would have to follow the plough if he wanted to say more because I had to get my work finished. He told me I would have to apologize to Mr. Matrex for my conduct or be cut off from the Church. This made me so angry that I ripped out an Oath and said, "The church be damned, cut me off." This remark alone was enough to make me loose my membership. So the next day I received notice of my disfellowship from the Methodist Church.
In 1873 a man came to town hunting miners to go to Old Mexico. I accepted the job. I was to receive fifteen dollars a day and all expenses from the time I left San Francisco, but had to pay my expenses that far.
It was a cold and stormy voyage. We arrived in Utah and stopped in Brigham City. We arrived there in the spring. The Mormon Church was holding their spring Conference. I attended Their meetings. It was Apostle Woodruff who delivered the sermon. I was so pleased with the doctrine of his speech it was like the teachings of Christ. The thing I had been waiting for.
I gave up my trip to Old Mexico and went to work in the Co-op in Brigham City. I became permanently located in Utah and worked in and around this city and state for the rest of my life.
I became acquainted with Mary Peterson and after a short courtship was married to her on October 26, 1876, by Lorenzo Snow, one of the Twelve Apostles of the Church at that time. We were ready to be married in the Endowment house, but it was closed, so we were married by Apostle Snow. It was thought that the Logan Temple would be finished to do work in but in a years time the Endowment house was reopened and stayed open until the Salt Lake Temple was finished.
Life in Utah:
I had sixteen children by this union, ten of which are still living.
On July 16, 1884, I took my second wife, Laura Andrea Peterson (who we are descended from), a sister of my first wife Mary. We were married in the Logan Temple. At this time I had my first wife sealed to me. There were eight children from this second union. Six of them still living. In 1886 I had to leave Brigham for the sake of polygamy.
I went to San Francisco and was hidden for three and one half years. When I left President Snow told me to stay away for three years at least. It was thought that the whole world would be over by that time. While away I worked in the Humbolt Bay. Some of the men attempted to drown me because I was a Mormon. They said they would not work with a Mormon.
I came back to Brigham to see my wives and family and while at home I received word that my employer had died so I did not return. I lived in Brigham until 1912. On October 12, 1912, I and my family moved to Provo, Utah where we lived until 1921. I followed the carpenter trade there until I fell from a roof breaking my collar bone. It was slow healing and when I could take my arm from the sling I carried it in, I had partially lost the use of my hand, not being able to close my hand completely. It became necessary for my wife to help with our household expenses. She would dress-make and do practical nursing.
Then we moved to Salt Lake where for the last ten years I have been doing Temple work. During this time we lived a quiet, contented life doing Temple work, attending Church meetings and spending time with our children. Mary worked faithfully in the Relief Society Organization. She made many many quilts for them and took care of the sick.
On April 10, 1931, she was called home to her Father in Heaven. She was buried in Brigham City, Utah by the side of our children who had preceded her.
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