written in 1956 Book of Remembrance by Vera Wilcox Nelson I was born March 25, 1889, in a little log house on the Snake River at Sunny Dell, Idaho. My father, Samuel Allen Wilcox was a pioneer in that Co. having moved from Dingeldell, Ida. in the Spring of 1886 to the Snake River Country. I was the eighth child in the family. My brothers were Adrain, Frank, Orrin, and sisters Chloe, Minnie, Maud and Ada. Seems my earliest recollections are when our 9th baby was born. A sweet black eyed baby girl, Hazel. I am sure I can remember being taken to my mothers' room and how I loved that baby girl. I was 3 in March and she was born in July 1892. then three years later came our baby brother Lorin and I would gladly stay at home from a ball game or anything if I could just old him all alone in my little rocking chair. My childhood days were spent in a log house at Lyman about 7 miles north of where I was born. Ours was a happy home. Sunday morning I was always up and trotted to Sunday School with my father, ahead of the rest of the family. He was the Bishop and there were no telephone in those days. So he was always at church (a large one room building separated by curtains for classes.) early to see that the big stove was hot and the house warm for the crowd. Sometimes the Deacons were there and had a fire but my pa could make the best fires in the world. He was one grand man and loved by everyone large and small I think my first teacher in Sunday School was Effie Robison. I can still remember the pretty little cards we used to take home with a nice little verse on them for us to learn. I can remember Theo Osborn (Aunt Jean Miller's niece) She was deaf and could not talk, but on testimony day she loved to get up and make gestures and try to talk. Some fo the kids laughed and I got up and stood by her and held her hand and tears streamed down my cheeks. Seemed like that sorta shamed the class and Theo. always loved me and I loved her too. She visited Jean Miller about 1936 and was happy to see me. She had learned to talk, but was still deaf. Her mother was always Aunt Rosella to me. I was really my father's BEST BOY! You see there were five girls in a row so I used to ride a horse and get the cows at night and run the calves away from the cows after they had their share of the milk. (no separators in those days hence no calves to feed.) My father had a large farm and had sheep. The sheep were kept in the foothills in the summer and the ewes and lambs brought to the farm for winter. I used to herd the sheep to keep them off the alfalfa. I was paid 5 cents per day. My dad use to tell me I'd die poor0because when the sheep behaved well I didn't feel I had earned my money. I would sit in the shade of a tree or straw stack and play make believe-sometimes I was a poor little rich girl who had no friends and sometimes as I was a fairy. I was never lonely cause I would make believe I was a nice princess and had many beaus. There is one story in my life I am rather ashamed of-but here it is. My sister Ada three years older than I was, never was well. The dr. couldn't tell what her trouble was but she spent much of her childhood days at hime, ill. Mom and dad would take her to town. (Rexburg-5 miles No.) and ring home a big bottle of bitter root or some other junk for her to take-Well, they always brought some nice gift for her to bribe her to take this tuff. Of course I didn't understand this and one day they brought her the cutest little blue lamp. I had never seen one before. I think I was about five years old at the time. Well, the green monster was turned loose. I cried and got myself into such a state I really thought I was going to die. No one seemed to know why I was so naughty. My sister, Chloe, who was always my very beset friend let me sleep with her and so some way I made her know what the matter was. She made me understand for the first time how wonderful it was to be well. I am sure she helped me conquer jealousy, but I was at least fourteen years old before I really can say I was cured. the rest of my life I spent in trying to make up to my little sick sister for some of the mean feelings I had suffered. When I was ten years old my baby sister Hazel and I had diphtheria. I was not nearly as sick as Hazel was and we lost our sweet baby sister. I can remember so well the night before she really was bedfast. I went out to the barn-stripping my favorite cow and she came toward me hopping on a broom stick. I asked her what ailed her and she said "if you won't tell ma I'll show you. She showed me her little legs and privates. I screamed and ran and told mother. She brought Hazel in the house and put her in a tub of warm water. I think it was kidney trouble or it could have been scarlet fever, anyway that darling just slept herself away. She wouldn't try to gargle her throat and there were no doctors except one 30 miles away. He came twice and just called it diphtheria. Anyway, I am very grateful for the knowledge that has come into he world in this day and age. I am writing this the 7th day of Jan., 1954. I have seen many wonderful changes in my life. My mother never seemed to get over Hazel's death. we all used to tell her Hazel was too good for this world. I can remember the wonderful times we used to have every summer. The family and all the friends would Hi away to the mountains to pick huckleberries. Oh what a wonderful time we had. The food cooked over the camp fire and the songs and stories by the big fire at night and then to sleep in the back of the white top buggy on a feather bed. The women and children had the wagons and buggies and the men slept on pine boughs. I used to htink that was the best time of the year. My ma use to brag on me then and say what a good little berry picker I was. Once when we went, Lillian Young (just my age) was asleep after dinner so they left her int he wagon thinking she'd sleep at least 2 hours. She woke up and was rescued by a panther crying. Someone ran to the sound and killed the panther. that was a scary night but someone kept the campfire burning brightly all night so we were safe. In those days the mountains were the home of many wild animals, bears, mt. lions, panthers, wildcats, etc. Now those lands are all under cultivation. I remember when I was a small child a little girl Nellie Anderson went to the mountains with her mother and father where her brother Samuel was herding their sheep. She wanted to stay a day or so and did. Samuel went to round up the sheep for the night and told Nellie to stay at the camp wagon. It was just before sundown and she saw a butterfly and followed it into the pines and became lost. Darkness came and she was out all night. Her brother went to a nearby camp and found Archie Galbrath there with a horse. He rode to the village about 15 miles away and every man was on his way by midnight to search for Nellie. She found a road and followed it to the Lime Kills and was taken in and put to bed and no one found her til noon the next day. It was about 6:00 a.m. when she found the house. She said she just asked God not to let the bears get her. My first school teacher was Agnes Southworth, who later married my brother Adrain. She boarded at our house and Adrain was on a mission. I remember before Hazel died we had a letter form him. He was gone 3 years to the Southern States. Ma always cried when his letter came. Those were hard days too. Two of his companions were tarred and feathered. He was hid in the loft of a house 3 days and nights with the mob outside, ready to nab him. ONe day I missed Hazel and went to find her. She was crying back of the house and said it makes me sick at my stomach to read Adrains' letters. She was about 4 years old then. the worries were plentiful for the Missionaries in those days, but they learned the gospel. Adrian coverted a family and they came to Idaho (Bro. & Sis. Shirley) Patten, Adrean-girl named for my brother) Grandma and Aunt Rose.) they were very nice people and my folks sure surely good to them. (this is all the story I have of her life history)