EXPERIENCES IN THE LIFE
OF
JOHN H. ANDERSON
In brief  I have made mention of a few of my own experiences, also some of the
important happenings pertaining to my parents.

I owe to them a debt of gratitude that I fear I can never fully repay.  Their lives have been
to me a guiding star through my life. May our lives in turn be a beacon light to our children to
urge them on in the pathway of a better and richer life that never grows dim with age.

My father, Johannes Anderson, was born February 18th, 1823 in Wiarp, Sweden.  His
father was the owner of a nice farm which was very productive.  He had horses, cows, sheep,
and the necessary farm equipment and was considered a man in fair circumstances.

Father's mother died when my father was twelve years old.  He was the oldest of six
children, four of which were boys and two girls.  These children did not have the realization of
a mother's tender love.  Being the eldest, my father had to go off to work, therefore he had a
varied experience among strangers, and had to do much hard work as a farm boy. Boys in
Europe at that time received very little pay besides their board and very scanty clothing.

However, in early life he gained valuable experience and became a foreman on large
farms and was trusted with responsibility and highly regarded among his fellows.

My mother, Johanna Olson, was born September 10, 1822, in Frilestad, Sweden, a short
distance from the city of Helsingborg.  Her parents were farmers.  They owned a farm with all
the necessary animals and farm equipment.

My mother had one brother and two sisters.  Her parents were industrious, respectable
people, known for their honesty and orderly deportment. Both families were good, faithful
Lutherans, devoted to their Church and sincere in their religious convictions.

My mother was a beautiful girl, fair as a lily, with black hair, dark brown eyes, medium
height, keen and bright, and a quick thinker, with exceptionally good judgment. She was
admired and respected by all who knew her, refined and polished in her manner.

My mother and father were married December 18, 1852, They built a nice little home in
Wiarp.  I had the opportunity of going to their house while on my first mission, as well as to
the homes of both my grandparents.

My sister Anne was born June 11, 1854. My parents later purchased a farm near the city
of Helsingborg.  At this place they were blessed with a baby boy, Olof, born November 25,
1857.

While they were living at this place, two humble young Mormon Elders called on them
and brought the glad tidings of the restored gospel and explained that God had again spoken to
man, that Jesus had appeared to a young boy, angels had borne witness as God's messengers of
the restoration of the true and everlasting gospel.  They attended a few meetings and at once
became convinced of the truth.  They applied for baptism, which took place October 30, 1856,
and became confirmed members of the church six days later.

They adhered to all the requirements of the church.  It was customary in Sweden when
visiting friends to drink a glass of whiskey and smoke the pipe of peace and friendship.  My
father was not addicted to the use of tobacco and liquor.  It was a very easy matter for him to
abstain from these things and to my knowledge he never indulged in anything the Lord has
forbidden. My parents were the only ones of all their relatives to embrace the gospel, thus the
prophecy of Jeremiah becomes fulfilled: 3 chapter, 14 verse: "I will take one of a city and two
of a family and will bring you to Zion."

Persecution was waged against the early church members in Sweden.  Doors and
windows were riddled in their places of worship; at times their lives were in danger.

My parents sold their belongings and began the long tiresome journey to the new world,
where they might gather with God's chosen few, to live and rear their family in the ways of the
Lord.  They left the shores of their native land early in the spring of 1859.  After many weeks
they arrived at the Promised Land.

At Florence they purchased oxen, cows, wagon, and other necessary articles and began
the long and weary march across the desert.  My father was a strong man and walked the entire
distance.  He often carried my mother across rivers.  At night he would stand guard to protect
oxen and cows from the ravages of the Indians who were lurking around annoying the
travelers. Occasionally the buffalo would stampede; oxen and cows would become bewildered
and frightened and also stampede, sometimes upsetting the wagons and causing a lot of
trouble, and even serious accidents, and a lot of unexpected and unforseen difficulties would
arise.  It was by no means a pleasure trip. Food supplies would become scanty and the weary
travelers would be reduced to about one-half their needs.  At times they were without water
and far between springs and rivers; walking in the burning sand and unleveled roads was far
from being pleasant.

Each night the wagons were drawn in a circle for protection from Indians or any unseen
danger.  The camp fire and beds were made within the wagon circle.  Prayer was observed
night and morning.  The weary traveler was tired from the day's tasks, and would make his bed
on the ground, trusting in the protection of Almighty God and his Angels.

My parents at times arising and rolling up their scanty bedding would find a large snake
under their bed, but they were never harmed by these serpents. My mother walked the entire
distance from Florence to Utah, leading my sister Anne, who was five years of age.  My
brother Olof, who was only one and a half years old, rode in the front part of the wagon. At
times be would scold the oxen if he thought they did not walk fast enough.

Upon their arrival in Utah they located in Brigham City, then only a small village.  Here
they made their home during the winter of 1859.  Little Olof who had stood the trip so well
took sick and passed to the Great Beyond October 26, 1859.  He was buried at Brigham City. 
My parents grieved considerably for the loss of their boy.  He was an exceptionally bright
child.

One night my father was lying on his bed, not having gone to sleep, thinking of the little
son God had called from this earth to a much brighter shore beyond pain, sorrow, and sin. 
Suddenly little Olof stood by the bed as real and natural as he was when alive.  My father
gazed on him for a moment, then he disappeared.

My parents felt this was to remind them that all was well with Olof and they should not
grieve for him.  They were comforted and from that time felt reconciled.

In the spring of 1860 my parents, together with Daniel Johnson, Hans Monk, Andrew
Frederickson, moved to Logan, then only a few humble log cabins and a few dug-outs
resembling cellars with dirt roofs.  Logan was a desert; sagebrush and bunchgrass covered the
then unredeemed city.  Indians roamed the valley.

My parents located on the very lot where we now live.  My father removed the wagon
box from his wagon.  This was now converted into their first house in Logan.  The only
protection was a canvas cover to shield them from the sun, wind, and storm.  The Indians had
their main camp just one block east of our place, where King David's little place now stands.

After my father had plowed a few acres of land, cleared away the sagebrush, planted a
little wheat and a few potatoes, he had to leave his little family and go to Brigham City to 
work for a little flour for food for his wife and child.  It was no pleasure for my mother to
live in a wagon box with a little child, while Indians prowled around day and night, giving
their war whoops.  They would often beat on the wagon cover, trying to frighten my mother.

Year after year the grasshoppers would devour the scanty wheat fields and potato vines,
sometimes coming in such vast numbers that the sun would be darkened as if night were
approaching.  But these humble God-fearing pioneers still trusted Him who rules the destiny of
all people and nations, They had not left their homes in the old world seeking for gold and
silver, but had come here to find God and serve Him better than they possibly could do in the
Gentile world.

The Indians caused them much trouble and worry.  Their demands were many and
burdensome to the new settlers.  They would demand so many sacks of flour, a certain number
of sheep, and a fat beef. Then would kill and eat, dance and carry on, only to make further
demands on the poor settlers.  Apostle Benson and Bishop Maughan were in charge of the
pioneers and they would gather additional supplies to satisfy the Indians while the settlers had
scarcely enough for their own needs. President Brigham Young said it was better to feed the
Indians than to fight them.  The early settlers labored under serious difficulties.

My father would go down in the swamps and mow grass with a scythe, rake it together
with a wooden handmade rake, bring it home and feed it to his oxen and cow.  In the long,
hard winters there was only a scant supply of hay.  When spring came he was out of hay and
the oxen were turned out each night to rustle their food.  Early in the morning my father would
set out to find his oxen.  At times he would find them near Hyde Park; at times near the
mountains. He would return at 10:00 or twelve o'clock, do a few hours plowing, then turn out
for another hunt the next morning.

On October 9 1860 my parents' home was blessed with a daughter, Ida Josephine.  She
lived only ten days, then departed to the Great Beyond.  The dear spirit came to earth, received
a body, nursed her mother's breast, then returned to a brighter and more glorious sphere, some
day to return and claim its little body, grow to womanhood, enter the Celestial Glory, for Jesus
said: Let the children come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of
Heaven.

One year to the day little Ida Josephine died another sweet baby girl blessed our humble
home, Hanna Ida.  She was a beautiful child and as good as a child could be; thoughtful and
prudent, with a sense of judgment.  My mother said it was equal to that of a person of much
more mature years.  I well remember her sunny disposition and her lovely, smiling face.  She
only came to stay a short time.  When she was nine and a half years old, she took sick and
passed to the Great Beyond.  She was born on the 19th of October and died on the 14th of
April, in 1861 and 1871, respectively.  I still remember the sorrow of my parents; how they
grieved over the loss of their child. I will never forget how my father broke down in tears
during prayer, unable to continue.

We lived in a two roomed house.  My father had brought logs from the canyon, hewed
them on two sides, plastered mud between the logs, making them air tight.  The floor was
nailed down with wooden pegs.  My father would bore a bole through the boards, then drive
wooden pegs to hold the boards in place.  The roof was first covered with boards, then rushes
were placed over the boards, then earth was covered over the rushes to keep the rain and snow
out.  Almost all the houses were built that way.  We had a large open fireplace and big
chimney.  We had to pile on a lot of wood to keep the wind and cold from coming down the
chimney, and to keep ourselves reasonably warm.

When I was about seven years old my father built a six-room house.  It had a good rock
foundation; the three front rooms were built of logs, and the three back rooms were frame. 
The house was covered with weatherboard and painted; it had a good shingle roof.  This was
considered a modern house.

In my boyhood days, during the long winters our socials were carried on in a friendly
neighborly manner.  My parents would invite a lot of our neighbors and friends for supper and
an evening's enjoyment.  A real, honest-to-goodness supper would be served, consisting of
home-made sausage, fried ribs, pies, home-made beer, and a lot of other good things to eat.

These were rare occasions; the evening was spent in visiting, telling stories, and at times
we would dance with Chris Fiddler and his old violin supplying the music.  Then one night
another would arrange for a similar evening of enjoyment.

I was born September 24, 1864.  My childhood days were not adorned with the blessed
conditions which surround children of today.  We usually had enough to eat and clothing to
wear.  As a child I went barefoot in the summer, as did the other children, often with chappy
bleeding feet.  I did not mind that because we knew of nothing better.  We would go barefoot
to Sunday School.  My clothes were homespun, woven by my mother.  A little woman in the
third ward, Mrs. Davis, sewed my Sunday clothes.  They were grey jeans.  I learned to spin
yarn and weave, knit and darn stockings.

In those days our food was plain, nothing fancy.  It consisted mostly of good homemade
bread, milk, butter, eggs, and bacon.  Not every family had the above luxuries.  Very seldom
did we have fresh meat or pastry.  I am quite sure we were more satisfied than are the young
people today.  I remember as a small child how the Indians made their demands.  A very large
Indian came to our home and asked for food.  My mother gave him what she felt she could
spare, and what he was in need of, but he made further demands.  My father was home and
said that was all we could spare.  The Indian replied: "Me see you in the canyon.  " His threat
frightened my mother and she gave him all he asked for.

At one time about thirty or forty large Indians came to our home all painted.  They had
tin pans and other articles to make a noise.  They lined up in two rows in front of our home,
danced and shouted and made a terrible racket with the pans, then demanded bread, sugar, and
meat.  My mother gave the Indians almost all the food she had in the house.  President Young
advised all pioneers to have a rifle and a revolver, so if it was necessary to protect the women
and children, they could do so.  My father always carried his pistol when he went to the canyon
but never had occasion to use it in self-defense.

When I was but a small boy I went with my father to the field, also to the canyon or
wood.  Early in the spring we would prepare our water ditches so as to water our fields when
needed.  As soon as the land was dry enough we would sow wheat and peas, then plant
potatoes and corn.  Our farm work done, we would go to the canyon for wood as we did not
use coal.  I recall the first time I went with my father after wood.  We led our mules up a
ravine to bring the wood down to the wagon.  I told my father I was afraid the mules would
roll down the Mountainside because the ravine was so steep.  I learned then that a mule was
quite safe even though the hill side was very steep.

I learned to love the grand old mountains, and always longed to go back after wood.  In
those days there were no pleasure trips, only the necessary work to be attended to.  I loved the
wild flowers and would often gather a good bunch to take home to my mother.

Our hay land was near Benson Ward.  The hay was of rather poor quality, bluegrass and
wire-grass.  Before cutting the hay we would plow up and down in the ditches which
surrounded the field, so as to clear the mass grass and weeds that the water might drain off the
hay field.  We did not use the gum boots in those days, but rolled our pants above the knees
and went with our feet bare.  I recall one day while we were thus at work, my father asked me
to bring him the spade.  I ran by the side of the ditch, but did not notice a large snake curled 
up in one of the foot prints of the mules. I stepped squarely on the snake, then I jumped twice
as far as I ever jumped in my life.  I suppose the most painful experience I ever had was
attempting to walk across a hay field when the hay has just been cut.  The stubble is hardly
kind to bare feet.  If you think that is fun, just try it.  I am sure you won't laugh.

When hauling our hay we would leave home at 5:00 o'clock in the morning.  If we were
to make two trips we would generally get home about 9:00 or 10:00 o'clock at night with the
last load.  They were rather long work days; at least longer than people put in during this fast
age.  Having got the hay home, we were ready to harvest the wheat and peas.  The peas were
cut with a scythe, brought home and threshed.  The wheat was cut by cradle and bound by
hand.  Later it was cut with a machine, the old McCormick machine, and bound by hand.  It
was then stacked in the yard.  It generally took about ten men to do the threshing, besides the
men who tended the machine.  We never hired help, but exchanged help with other farmers.

When the farm work was finished we would have the horses shod and go to the canyon
for more wood.  I have often gone after wood when we had a foot of snow to wallow in,
which made the going very difficult.

What schooling I have had was during the winter months and not much of that.  I studied
at home and read such books as I could get.  I never wasted any time in idleness as many of my
friends would do, and I never formed any bad habits, such as using slang or bad expressions. 
In fact, I shunned anything that was not of a strictly fine, clean nature.  I never even used a
swear word.  I abhor deceit or diverting the truth.  I believe in being frank and at no time
putting on a false front.  I always attended Sunday School and priesthood meetings, of which I
never tired.  From childhood I was taught to pray and have faith in the Lord. When my mother
took sick I always went to the Lord in prayer and faith that she might be restored to health.  I
had implicit faith in God.

When I was seventeen years old the Temple at Logan was nearing completion.  Brother
N.C. Edlefsen, Samuel Roskelly, Thomas Mohr and others were called to go to St. George and
become familiar with the Temple work.  One day while in the field harrowing, a spirit of
Temple work came to me and a strange desire filled my soul to become a Temple worker.  I
stopped the horses, took off my hat, knelt down and offered up a prayer to God that the time
would come that I might have the opportunity of being a Temple worker.

This prayer was answered when I returned from my first mission; it could not be fulfilled
earlier as the Logan Temple was dedicated while I was on my mission.

In the fall of 1882, after we had harvested our crops, my parents gave me $6. 00 in
fifty-cent pieces (silver).  This was to be my spending money for the winter.  I felt they were
very generous to give me that much for enjoyment.

On December 21, 1882, my sister Anna died, leaving her husband William Hubbard, and
two children, one boy and one girl.

The winters of 1882 and 1883 I spent in study.  I was inspired to study Swedish.  I
borrowed a Swedish school book, and assisted by my mother, I became sufficiently familiar
with Swedish to read the language.  I read the Swedish New Testament through, and also read
other books.  This helped me to make the best use of my time.

March 29, 1883, I received a letter from President John Taylor stating I had been
recommended as a missionary to the Scandinavian mission.  If I accepted the call I was to leave
on April 10.

This call was in answer to my prayers.  I had often prayed that the time would come
when I should go on a mission to preach the gospel. I had a keen desire to go to the Indians
and explain the gospel; I thought this was because I had read the Book of Mormon.  I also had
a desire to go to the Southern states, but when the call came for me to go to Sweden, that was
just the place I wanted to go.  The spirit of the mission came to me when I received the call
like a sign from the living God.

When I read President Taylor's letter to my parents I observed that tears were rolling
down their cheeks.  They were getting on in years, besides I was their only child. No wonder
they shed tears.  My parents were willing for me to accept the call.  The gospel was dear to
them.  They had left their dear ones in the old world to come here that they might better serve
the Lord and assist to establish the Kingdom of God.

I wrote a letter to President Taylor stating I was glad to accept the call and would
arrange to leave April l0th.

The shock was so sudden my Mother took sick.  I shall always remember this sad
moment, my mother taking sick.  Only a few days and I should leave for my mission.  There
was only one thing to do; seek God in prayer.  My father and I went to the barn, we wanted to
be alone.  There upon our knees we implored our Heavenly Father for his blessings, we both
prayed in turn.  It was impossible to hold back the tears.  We prayed for Mother's recovery,
that she should be restored to health, for I was anxious to go on my mission, but was hoping
my Mother should be well before I left.  Our prayers were answered, my Mother recovered
almost instantly.

April 3rd I was ordained an Elder by Bishop T. X. Smith.  April 4th I went to Salt Lake
City to get my endowments.  Charles Lindquist and Samuel Nelson of Smithfield were also
called to Scandinavia on missions.  We stayed at the Tithing office over night and slept on the
floor with very little bedding.  I had a bad cold and coughed almost all night.  We received our
endowments on the Fifth of April in the endowment house which stood on the Tabernacle
block.  In the afternoon we were set apart for our missions by Apostles F. M. Lyman and
Moses Thatcher.  Brother Thatcher gave me a most wonderful blessing.  One sentence
impressed me very much; he said the eyes of my understanding shall be opened insomuch that I
can read men's hearts as I read an open book.  At times this blessing has been realized and I
hope with the Lord's blessing, this gift will be fully realized.

On April 6 I returned to Logan.  This was the first time I had been out of Cache Valley. 
Early in the morning of April 10, I kissed my mother goodbye.  She said: "I shall never see you
again." My thought was that my mother feared something would happen to me so I would not
return, therefore I replied, "Yes, mother, I will come home all right." I felt the Lord would
protect me.  Of course, it was quite a problem for an eighteen year old boy to leave home and
go out into the world thousands of miles away to preach a gospel and represent a church that
is hated and despised by a great majority of the Christian world, but I had no fear whatsoever. 
When I left for my mission I had the $6.00 that my parents had given me six months before. I
had not spent any money during the winter for shows and dances.

The trip over the continent was most wonderful, especially for one who had never been
out of Cache Valley.

Niagra Falls was a marvelous sight.  I enjoyed the great forest we passed through, and
also the larger cities; Chicago and New York.  We stayed in New York three days, then
bought tickets to our destination.

On Thursday April 17, we went on board the old ship Wisconsin, leaving the New York
harbor at one-thirty P.M. The day was beautiful, the ocean calm.  It was a lovely sight to see
the big vessel slowly sailing out to sea.  The sun was shining brightly.  We stood on the deck
looking back at the great city of New York.

The first two days we had fine sailing, then the wind began to blow and the waves to roll,
becoming bigger and bigger.  Finally the big ship was tossed like a cork on the rolling sea. 
Passengers got sea-sick, which was a great saving of food.  Most of the passengers remained in
their cabins.  A heavy fog covered the ocean; every two or three minutes the whistle blew to
signal other ships which might be approaching, to prevent, if possible, a collision.  After 
sailing eleven days, the blue sky above the green water as far as the eye could see, land was 
a welcome sight.

We landed at Liverpool Saturday, April 28.  There were sixty-four elders in all.  We were
met by some of the brethren from the mission office, who took us to a hotel a short distance
from the mission office.  Liverpool is a dingy uninviting city; the damp atmosphere causes the
buildings to look dirty with smoke.

The cold that I had taken before leaving home had not left me.  Some of the brethren
became alarmed because my cough was so severe.  They advised me to buy a flannel protector
for my chest.

President John Henry Smith was in charge of the mission in Europe.

On May 1st, we left Liverpool by rail to Hull, arriving at 3:30 P. M. Toward evening we
went on board the ship that was to take us across the North Sea.  At midnight while we were
all asleep in our bunks the ship set sail.  But what a difference in the morning; out of
twenty-four elders and other passengers only two or three ventured to the dining room, and
they reeled off to bed as fast as conditions would permit.  The North Sea was fearful.  Our ship
simply rolled on the waves.  Every passenger was sick.  The dishes were fastened to the tables
and the tables were fastened to the floor.

We were all happy to land at the beautiful harbor of Hamburg, Germany.  Hamburg is
very pretty; the lawns and buildings and the lay of the city are very pleasing to the traveler.

We went by rail to Hull, then to Kassar on a steamer.  While standing at the station, we
saw a lot of people leaving the station, and others going there.  All looked to be fine,
respectable, orderly people.  Elder Nelson said: "I believe I can convert every one of them, "
although they seemed sincere and appeared a fine lot.  It must be by the spirit of the Lord that
one obtains faith, together with humility.  Elder Nelson found that out by real experience after
entering the mission field.

We went by train from Kassar to Copenhagen, Denmark.  President C. D. Fjelsted,
president over the three Scandinavian countries, met us at the mission offices, as did also
Anton H. Lund, Brother Sundvall, and others.

Copenhagen is a very fine city, the cleanest city which I have seen.  My parents being
from the southern part of Sweden, I was appointed to labor in the Malmo Conference, Brother
Lundquist in Stockholm, and Elder Nelson in the Golenburg Conference.


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