Alma Platte Spilsbury
(1850 – 1920)
Alma Platte Spilsbury parents, George and Fannie Smith Spilsbury, except in the Gospel in England in 1842.
As soon possible they were married, they emigrated to Nauvoo in order to see and, if possible, talk to the man who had seen God, who had talked with Jesus Christ, and who was visited by angels and ancient prophets. Seated in the unfinished temple and Nauvoo, they recognize the Prophet of once though they had never seen him or even a picture of him. “He was his bold a lion, yet meek as a lamb, and his eyes pierce to my very soul,” wrote George later in his journal. They mourned with the Saints when the prophet and his brother were martyred and were present in the Grove when “the mantle of the Prophet” fell upon Brigham Young.
They evacuated Nauvoo at the time of the Exodus, and moved to St. Louis, then to St. Joseph, Missouri, in order to earn money to buy wagons, teams, seed and other necessities for settling in a faraway land. During that time, four little girls were born to them, each in turn dying. Belmont, their fifth child and first son, was born August 5, 1850, on the banks of the Platte River somewhere in Nebraska. When he was eight days old, the wagon in which she was born and was riding overturned in the Platte River in the oxen in their haste to slake their burning thirst rushed into the river. The mother was rescued at once, but by the time Edward Hunter, whose company they were traveling, had found the baby lodged against the stump, he seemed lifeless. Detecting a flicker of life, Hunter asked for the privilege of blessing given him a name. “Name him Alma,” his father said anxiously, “for the Book of Mormon Prophet.” “And I’ll add Platte to it,” said Bishop Hunter, “to commemorate his ducking.”
The family arrived in Salt Lake City on October 3, 1850, where the first eight years of Alma’s childhood were spent. His father replied the trade of mason to keep his ever-growing family supplied with necessities. Alma was 18 years of age when his father settled in Toquerville, in southern Utah, having spent one summer in Springville when Johnston’s army entered Salt Lake City, three years in Draper, four years in Grafton and four years in Rockville. Being the oldest son, Alma stood guard when Indians menaced, went with parties in search of stolen property, and help build their homes and provide for the family. Schooling during that time was incidental and possible only when other matters were not pressing.
On June 22, 1869, he married Sarah Ann Higbee, when he was but 19 years of age. His first daughter, Fanny Ann, was born September 1, 1870. On December 11, 1879, Sarah Ann died at the birth of their fifth child. She was survived by three children: Fannie Ann, David Moroni, and John Summers (Alma Platte Jr., and Ella having previously passed away). Immediately following this bereavement, Alma accepted a call to the Northern States Mission, leaving the care of his children to his mother. He left in April 1880, but in the cold, damp climate of the Great Lakes area he developed a cough that soon turned serious, and in July he was released.
On October 6, 1880, he married Mary Jane Redd of New Harmony, Utah, a girl he met when he stayed overnight with the Redd family on his way from his mission. With her he began a new life for himself and his motherless children in the old Spilsbury home in Toquerville. Mary Jane’s Katie Pearl was born and Sarah Ann’s Johnny died while they lived there.
March 2, 1883, he married Margaret Jane Smith is Cedar City, Utah, who had been preconditioned for his proposal by seeing him in a dream and being told distinctly, “This is the men you are going to marry.” Because of persecutions assailing those who entered the world marriage, he was advised by Apostle Erastus Snow to marry her in the St. George Temple and move his family at once to Arizona. In preparation for the movie fitted himself with for wagons, five teams, some loose horses, a race horse and a cow and left for Arizona, arriving the first of May. They settled in Mesa, then a struggling hamlet of a dozen families. With his extra horse he bought 40 acres of land from Fred Mullins, and moved his two wives into the one room Adobe house already built, and set about improving the property. Mary Jane second baby girl, Sarah Ann, was born June 2, 1883, and nine months later, March 3, 1884, Janey’s first girl, Estella May, was born before another room was added to the one-room adobe.
Eluding the U.S. Marshals, who were soon on the trail, was the beginning of dangerous times for this family. Although Alma believed in “facing the music,” going underground was so distasteful to him, he accepted a call to explore northern Sonora in company with Heber J .Grant and party, headed by Brigham Young, Jr. They spent four months hunting land suitable for colonization.
On his return he was arrested and stood trial in federal court in Phoenix in the spring of 1885, and was among the first to plead guilty as a test case. Others before him had pled “not guilty,” and had been sentenced to three months in eastern penitentiaries plus a fine. The “guilty” plea was made in hopes it would lessen the penalty. Pleading guilty also seemed more honest Alma, so he disregarded the advice of his lawyer. The result was a six-month sentence in the state penitentiary at Yuma, Arizona.
His prison term began April 1885, and lasted until October of the same year. Mary Jane’s third child and first son, Lemuel Hardison, was but a month old. Making friends with his jailers and gaining special privileges that mitigated the daily rituals and scorching heat was characteristic of Alma’s tactics in a hostile situation.
Serving his penitentiary term gave no relief to the persecution and when the chance came to choose between giving up part of the family were going into exile, he chose the latter. Leaving Mary Jane to liquidate his business, he took Janey with Estella May and Ernest Moroni (George Phillip having died at age two) and went with a company of Saints to Mexico. Janye’s fourth child, Carmelita, was born in Dublan shortly after they arrived. They settled in Colonia Juarez, and their Mary Jane followed in November 1891, with her six children: Katie, Sarah, Lemuel, Nellie Keziah, Della Redd and Ruby Vilate. His oldest daughter, Fannie, had married Isaac Dana and remained in Mesa. He gave up valuable property for the sake of living peacefully with his family.
Life in Mexico was a series of living on ranches in the summer time and in Colonia Juarez ares for school in the winter. Eight years were spent in the Strawberry Valley 25 miles northwest of Colonia Juarez, where he raise corn and potatoes, made cheese for sale and cared for the T-five (Church) cattle on a profit-sharing basis. Four years were spent on the Palo Quemado Ranch it miles south of Colonia Juarez which he used as a base for his lumber hauling. Loads of lumber were delivered each week, and still he spent the night at home. In 1905, he moved his families to Chuhuichupa for three years the farm, dairy and raise cattle. The highlight of living in this secluded hamlet 90 miles southwest of Colonia Juarez was the visit of his aged and revered father, George Spilsbury, who weathered the hard trip in order to give his grandchildren a Patriarchal Blessing.
Inaccessibility to high school privileges for his growing family induced a move to the valleys, and he settled his families on fruit farms four miles up the river from Colonia Juarez. From here he moved them in to town and the first comfortable homes either had enjoyed. Hardly were they settled when the political upheaval scattered the Mormon colonists all parts of the southwestern United States, and forced temporary abandonment of these newly-acquired homes. In the general Exodus came, Alma, by permission, remained in town alone, thinking he could save property and be instrumental in easing strained relations by doing so. By using tactics learned in the Yuma penitentiary, he made friends by being friendly. As a consequence, he never was harmed. Within a month Mary Jane’s family joined him. Janey and her children stayed in United States.
He was strictly honest. He never treated in a trade nor took unfair advantage in a deal. He never told a lie except once to save a favorite horse from rebels. No word of contempt could aptly express his aversion to the fellow who would tell you one thing while thinking another. He was a stickler for fundamentals. If the Gospel is true, its teachings were a correct guide. Family prayer is as regular as the morning and evening meal. Alma thank the Lord for what he had, asked him for what he needed. Mothers and each of the children took their turns praying.
He was as honest with the Lord as with his fellow man. He had little to tie, but such as there was, was carefully calculated and scrupulously paid every 10th load of hay, wood, or lumber was piled into the tithing yard. Attendance at Sacrament Meeting and the Sabbath Day was strictly observed. Saturday evening his teams were turned out. Sunday morning is liveliest team of mules was hitched to the light wagon, and into it was loaded all the family. The mules and rested until time to return from Sacrament Meeting. He was supposed to buggy rides, often indulged in on Sunday afternoons, because horses needed their rest, too.
He loved horses. Had life dealt him what he craves, he would have been a horse fancier. When he moved to Mexico, he was wealthy with blooded horses which were taken with him. They were the first to succumb to the rigors of a hard country. As one by one they died, he saw something as Hardy as himself to take their place, and found it in mules. It mattered not whether he drove one span or two or three, or had them hitched to one wagon were to; his teams made his living.
No tools of a craftsman could have had better care. Teams that stayed with him until the day’s work was done often spent 16 hours in the harness. Yet he never had one refused to do his bidding. He had no patience with one who abused a balky horse, maintaining that if the driver knew as much as the horse, no mistreatment would be necessary.
Special favors among his horses were legion, and would be hard to name. Any animal once broke to his ritual was a favorite. Sometimes it was hard to tell who’s law was deepest, the horse’s or its master’s. More than one of them saved his life at various times by split-second timing in response to his jerk on the line or his sudden command. His pride in his team extended to the roads over which they took him. He took many a kink out of the crooked bit of road by plowing a more direct route from one point to another. He never failed to leave a road better than he found it. His pick and shovel were ever handy to remove an embedded boulder, dig down a wash, or fill in a chuckhole, and his children were always handy to throw out loose rocks.
In spite of his love of horseflesh, his children by no means took second place in favoritism every dollar was made the hardest way, no child was unwelcome. The last of his 28 causes much rejoicing as the first. This rejoicing was doubled when his wife, Mary Jane, gave birth to a pair of twin girls. His strategies then looked as if he claimed all the credit. When his cuatas were still mere babes he took them to Mesa to show what his move to Mexico had netted him. Yet even that was not allowed to eclipse another member of his family, nor allow any child to wish he had been born between. “This is the best child I’ve got,” he’d say as he patted the head of the child nearest him.
He want investors children. But more than closer fine things, he wanted them to be honest, diligent and trustworthy, and to learn the dignity of work. “What you are, you can take with you when you leave this world,” he often said. His love for his children went to a desire for them to be loyal to him and to show it as his forces did. To make it so, he instituted some hard and fast rules: how my son down on Sundays; in bed by 10 p.m. after parties, and by midnight after dances; no sleeping away from home. The hardest of all was: no dates without first getting his permission. “Do you think I’d allow anyone to take my mules from the corral without first asking my permission?” He would say. “And you think I love my mules more than I do my girls?” When times change, he change with them. His younger children heard only, “You’ve been taught correct principles, govern yourselves. But no late hours.” His children rarely forgot.
He was proud to be a member of the first High Council organized by Anthony W. Ivins. When cases were tried, he was invariably assigned to defend. This was because, as explained by President Ivins, Alma Spilsbury was a friend to the erring one. He lost older people on the downward slope of life and his were returned to finding some way to make life writer for them. Hearing of gala occasions in Utah where older people were honored, and attending such an occasion in Mesa, he turned to sell the idea to community leaders, who immediately planned and Old Folks’ Day, and placed him in charge of it. He went himself and by every person in town over 50 years of age of both races, and when the day arrived, he met all honored guests and chivalrously escorted them to their assigned places in the hall. They use corsage was placed on the oldest person present, thus making him the center of attention. As a jovial master of ceremonies Alma lead in the singing of old-time songs. Then, following a sumptuous banquet, all were in a mood to reminisce, and experiences were aired that provoked both tears and laughter until it was time to take them to their homes again.
This first successful Old Folks Day in Colonia Juarez was made into an annual affair, and it was a stake organization under his direction, with Miles A. Romney and Daniel Skousen as helpers. After his death, Old Folks’ Day was held each year on his birthday, August 5, until in later years it lost its identity. Being in charge of such occasions supplemented his dread of growing old, but nothing could really hide the fact from him. Called “old man Spilsbury” for the first time was like a lash from a whip. His family writhed with him, but secretly enjoyed his quick retort: “Looky here, young man, when you can throw more mud out of the ditch in a day than I can, you can call me old.” He never heard the words again.
Eulogies of the dead irked him. “Why couldn’t they have told that poor fellow all those nice things while he was alive?” Life and how was lived were more important to him than how he was buried. “All I ask is that the Lord will let me live as long as I am useful, and then let me die in the harness.” These words were literally fulfilled. In June 1920, following a load of wool on a lonely mountain road, his wagon overturned, killing him and his favorite horse. His body lay in the hot June sun for two days before he was found. He was laid to rest June 22, 1920, in the Colonia Juarez Cemetery.
He was survived by 16 of his 28 children, 14 of whom were born in Mexico, and his posterity numbers around 300 at this writing. Many of his numerous posterity are found in Stake in Ward leadership, also as Stake and full-time missionaries for the Church. Many grandchildren served in all branches of the armed forces during World War II, with but one casualty. There are apt craftsman to be found among his children and grandchildren. Professional men and women are numbered in the fields of medicine, art, science and music. In the field of education are teachers from elementary to university level, as well as principles of high schools. All of which proves, as in the life of Alma P. Spilsbury himself, that hardships and meager opportunities are no bar to achievement if proper incentive is supplied.
Nelle Spilsbury Hatch
Stalwarts South of the Border page 628 Nelle Spilsbury Hatch