awesome dad. Since his move to Utah in 2013,
I have had almost weekly adventures
with him. Even if they are just to Sam’s Club
or out to lunch, I call them adventures
as I listen to Dad’s stories about my ancestors.
the Salt Lake City Cemetery
through his eyes.
we went in search of them.
We saw many graves,
so I wanted to share
a little bit about a few of my ancestors.
Above we are next to the grave marker
a clerk and scribe to the prophet Joseph Smith,
and author of the Mormon hymn
“Come, Come, Ye Saints.”
to enter the Salt Lake Valley in 1847.
I see my father in his face
and I have his crooked smile.

our family, sometimes with tears in his eyes,
He shared their trials and hardships,
some of the mistakes they made,
and also how proud his parents were
of their ancestors.
Above he and my daughter
are by a McCune marker.

Sarah Ann Walters Clayton.
She was a Mormon handcart pioneer
and at the age of 17,
crossed the plains in 1856
in the Edmund Ellsworth Company.
The hardships she endured
were extremely difficult.
But because of her, I am here.
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Augusta Braddock Clayton.
She was a Mormon pioneer
and at the age of 13,
crossed the plains in 1848
in the Willard Richards Company.
While on the trail,
she survived being run over by a wagon.
I just love this picture of her.
She makes me want to bake bread.
I looked up Proverbs 31:10 – 31, and here is part of it:
“Who can find a virtuous woman?
for her price is far above rubies.
The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her,
so that he shall have no need of spoil.
She will do him good and not evil
all the days of her life.
She seeketh wool, and flax,
and worketh willingly with her hands.
She is like the merchants’ ships;
she bringeth her food from afar.
She riseth also while it is yet night,
and giveth meat to her household,
and a portion to her maidens.
She considereth a field, and buyeth it:
with the fruit of her hands
she planteth a vineyard.
She girdeth her loins with strength,
and strengtheneth her arms.
She perceiveth that her merchandise is good:
her candle goeth not out by night.
She layeth her hands to the spindle,
and her hands hold the distaff.
She stretcheth out her hand to the poor;
yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
…Strength and honour are her clothing;
and she shall rejoice in time to come.”


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This one shares my belief
that even after death,
we shall meet again.
The clasped hands of a wife and husband
are tender.
Though Augusta’s name is worn off,
their love lingers on.
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more of her ancestors.
We love you!
Happy Father’s Day!