In the history of Utah and other places, some folks are amazed to find the hidden person under the exterior clothing or his habits. Such is the case of this photo which was found in the many photos and papers of the boxes of artifacts collected by myself and my family of those that have lived and died in our family of Tolley's; Jones' and Harris folks. The Nephi abode I was raised in was built in 1885, and various family members lived there when it had several different entrances and rooms that bedded family folks that would make their cots in the place they they were well taken care of as they were about to take those steps to our real homes up the stairwells to Heaven's gate. That Nephi home is still a stable home for our younger sister-Jaynette Grimard, but the constant overloads of Semi Trucks and loud and speeding vehicles up and down to and from Schools and the new Gym are causing emotional and structural damage. As a youngster, it was a common occurrence that Hobo's would jump on & off the railroad trains that would stop at the Train Station in Nephi. There they would wander over to the Salt Creek that was behind the wandering eyes of those going and coming to the Utah Poultry. Over there, those free loaders could bath and clean up for their next criss cross on the rails. Then during the Ute Stampede and on Sundays, local folks would bring them a hot meal. When this want-to-be Historian first found this photo, my first thought was that it was held by the Nephi Jones residents which arrived in Nephi during 1852. The first Jones was Edward Jones, who had a son by the name of Edward Jones, and then he had two sons with the names of Willian and Edward, who was called "Uncle Lenny by my father Alma". Those two brothers married the twin daughters of William Fisher Tolley, who was trained in driving railroads in the British Isles, and directed by Brigham Young to help build a road and railroad between Nephi and Ft. Green. He did just that, and eventually ended up with Brigham Youngs approval to take up three more wives, with the backing of the first wife. The first Edward Jones in Nephi became a Blacksmith and built a home down where Wade Garrett now resides. Another home closer to the wagons going out to York(by Doc Steeles), and so his Blacksmith Shop was being built on First East and just south of where the Old Hollow runs. In many regards, B.H. Roberts reminded this writer of Paul H. Dunn, who I became friends with in his latter days. As a General Authority, he wrote a letter to my Mission President in England and wanted to know how me and my Missionary Companion held the the record for more Baptism in the British Isles. My letter back to him told that he was under the heavenly inspiration as I was and to seek and find out himself. Later on when I worked with convicted Felons in Utah, I took Paul H. Dunn to various Prisons and Jails to encourage the convicts to take a different route in life. We became great friends. Back in the Mission Field, as the Mission President was so busy with Members of the Church, I was then promoted to the Proselytizing Assistant to the President, and Set Apart as that, and the Mission President authorized me to handle all matters of the Missionaries', including transferring Missionaries' as necessary. My new position didn't meet the standards of Spencer W. Kimball, who spoke firmly and with authority to me and the Mission President. Kimball authorized new carpets in the Mission Castle but not my office or sleeping quarters, but did direct me to be he and his wives Driver, then gave me an extra month to seek out Baptism for the Dead, and to use the Church car without a companion and on the promise I could be found without my earthly body if I dishonored that covenant. I remained faithful to that end and on my return to Juab County and with the help of a professional Genealogist- Lorraine Hayes, dozens and dozens of family member's names were taken to the Manti Temple for baptism by proxy. Kimball also sent a letter to my Stake President-Ross Garrett, who was also a grandson of Wm. Jones, who I believe paved the golden road for me as I traveled where he did, carrying his Journal with me. This story of truth will continue in Part Two, after I soak these arthritic typing fingers in Epsom Salt.
WHO ART THOU REALLY?
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