Born: 4 Oct 1853
Died: 29 Dec 1925
At the age of: 72
Plot Number: E4
Spouse: Emma Bainbridge Obray Smith
Parents: William Smith, Jane Rawlins Smith
THOMAS RAWLINGS SMITH
The funeral for Thomas Rawlings Smith was held Sat. At 12:00 noon. From the Malta Ward Meeting House, Bishop Orson Sanders officiating. Music was furnished by the choir. Speakers were John A. Elison, and Joseph Harper who spoke of the faithful life he had lived.
Mr. Smith had made his home in Malta for a good number of years. And in his passing leaves a great many friends to mourn his death. His is survived by his wife and 5 children, all of whom are married.
THOMAS RAWLINGS SMITH
By Pearl Smith
Thomas Rawlins Smith, son of William Smith and Jane Rawlins Smith, born August 4, 1853 in Sharpshire, England. His parent and older brother Joseph came to Ogden, Utah in the year 1853. Thomas R. Was but 12 weeks old.
He endured many hardships during his early life and during his teens. I have heard him tell of different things that happened with the Indians. On one occasion he and his brother, Joseph, being sent to care for the cows, hid in a hole which they had dug and watched the Indians kill a yearling calf and take it home.
During these few years my mother, Emma B., was born December 5, 1857 at Ogden, Utah. Her parents moved from Ogde3n, Utah to Wellsville, Utah then to Paradise, Utah. This is where they lived most of their young lives.
In fact this is where their love took place. Father, at the age of 21, and mother, at the age of 17, decided to get married. Father’s brother, Joseph, and mother’s sister, were also engaged. They decided to make it a double wedding. They traveled to Salt Lake City by team and wagon, on December 1st, 1874. It took six days to make the trip.
Father worked in sawmills and was a logger, as his trade. When their first baby boy was around one year old, they moved to Logan Canyon. Here father was given the foreman job over the sawmill and the men. They cut logs in the summer. And they sawed the logs into lumber during the winter.
In a short time they were blessed with another little son. The names of my brothers are Thomas and Albert. A Scarlet Fever epidemic broke out and took the lives of both.
In the winter the snow was 3 or 4 feet deep. On one occasion a young man by the name of Hyrum Froghum, who father said drank heavy and was wild, had the misfortune with a blade of an ax. It cut thought the fleshy part of his leg while cutting bark from the log. He was losing blood rapidly. The men talked it over and decided to make a stretcher and carry him out. While they were making the stretcher mother cut a sack of flour into and bandaged it tight to his leg to stop the flow of blood. It took 6 men to carry him to a railroad. There they put him on a flat car and sent him to Logan, a distance of 20 miles. Father and all thought he would never live.
Father moved the family back to Paradise, the canyon was not the place to raise a family. Father managed to get a small farm. It was there they lost another little boy, Samie.
Later on they had six more children: Joseph, Emma, John, Sam, Napoleon, Ralph and Pearl.
In the year 1984 father was called on a mission to the southern states. Leaving mother to care for the six children, thee oldest 16 and the youngest 2, Mother worked out in the fields most of the time. My sister, Emma, 14, took care of the children and the house.
Father traveled without purse or script. All he had was what mother was able to send him, which was really very little.
Father knew he was going to the place where Uncle Johnny Gibs was shot down. He went to Aunt Lewise and told her he was going to stand on the pulpit where Uncle Johnny was killed. Aunt Lewise begged him to stay away. Father and his partner Elder Needum of Logan went there, but they were run off by a mob, before they were through with their sermon.
They hid in an old school house which was close to the thick timber. Once inside they piled all the benches against the double doors. Around midnight they removed their shoes in order to be quieter. At once they heard them coming. They climbed out the window next to the timber, just in time. For several days they were hiding with only berries to eat, they had plenty of water. Being without shoes was plenty rough, though.
They had met a friend, once, who told them if they were in trouble or needed help, to get word to him. They traveled nights and hid up in the daytime until they reached his home. There friend fed them and gave them shelter, until they could get word to headquarters. Father said if it hadn’t been for this man de didn’t know what would have happened to them. They soon received some shoes and supplies. They were sent to another territory. A short time after that incident the church condemned the place and quit sending missionaries.
I recall John Thompson, a young missionary from my home town of Malta, Idaho, received permission, about six years ago, to go to that place and look it over. I heard him say that the place was deserted.
I will always remember the day father came home from his mission. I was four years old; it was on a Sunday. Father walked from Brigham City, Utah, 15 miles, carrying two suit cases. My oldest brother, Joseph, jumped on an old horse we had and rode to town. Sacrament meeting was just letting out. Joseph was hollering, “Dad’s home.”
It was like a celebration; the whole town came. It was the wee hours of the night before it broke up.
That was 67 years ago. Jobs were scarce. Father got on at the McMurry dairy for 50 cents per day. My sister also worked with father, for 10 cents per day. It seems we did well. We used to have lumpy dick for supper; it was very good, with plenty of milk.
As the years went by father got himself some sheep. The boys were growing up. The small farm was to small to keep the boys home. Father decided to sell out and get more land. He came to Idaho, in 1900.
Brother I. J. Neddo went partners with father and bought what is now the I. J. Neddo farm. They dissolved partnership in a few years. Father then bough what is now the Valley Cafe and the old home farm owned by Frank Hall. In June 1900 father moved his family to Malta. We lived on that ranch a good many years, with father farming and mother running the boarding house and rooms. She was kept pretty busy with the sick. There wasn’t any doctor in the valley and mother was pretty good in tending to the sick. I heard her say, she brought 201 babies into this world and had wonderful luck.
Father and mother were active in the church. Father helped build the first church house in Malta and mother cooked meals for the many who worked on it. Father was the first Superintendent of Sunday School here.