A story from Grandma Stutz

(This was an interesting story recounted by Mildred Robison Stutz to Ellen Landeen on March 24, 2009. I thought you might enjoy hearing it.)

Many years ago, whenever Dad and I would get discouraged, we would say to each other, “Let’s sell out and move to Gunlock.” It was a little Utah town and seemed like a good place to live. My great-great Grandmother, Sarah Studevant Leavitt, was buried at the cemetery there but I had never been to Gunlock myself.

One day, several years ago, Dad and I were travelling home from a fieldtrip in California when we passed the turnoff to Gunlock. It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and, on impulse, we said, “let’s stop at Gunlock and see if we can find Grandma Leavitt’s grave.” So we drove past the little lake to the town.

As we entered the town, we saw a group of boys (about teacher’s ages) out enjoying the day and working on a car. We stopped and asked them if they could tell us where the cemetery was. “Sure,” they said, “follow us in your car and we’ll take you there.” So Dad and I climbed into our car and got behind them. They started up their car, made a U-turn and stopped. The cemetery was on the other side of the road. Everybody had a good laugh. They thought they were pretty funny.

The cemetery was built on a hill and we came in at the top. It was a really hot day, as days in Southern Utah can get. Down the slope at the bottom of the hill, at the other end of the cemetery, we saw a couple of ladies. One of them called up to us and said, “Come down here where it’s a lot shadier and cooler.” As we went down the hill, we got about 10 feet away from the women when one of them looked up and shouted, “Moda!” This was my childhood name. No one had called me that for years. This was my cousin, Eldonna Abbott Leavitt, who I had not seen for 40 years!

Neither Eldonna nor her daughter had ever been to Gunlock before. The week before, she had had her cataracts removed and because of that, she could see and recognize me. As we visited, Eldonna mentioned how sorry she was to hear that Marian (my sister) had passed away. I said how sad I was that Marian had never left a history of her life. Eldonna exclaimed, “Oh, but she did leave a history.” Eldonna had spoken with Marian before her death Marian had told her that she had written her life’s memories. Eldonna said that when Marian died, her journal was given to Ward (my brother) who was the oldest living sibling in the family.

When I got home I wrote to Ila, Ward’s wife. (Ward had passed away shortly before.) Ila sent me Marian’s personal history. There was information I had never had before: an account of life in the Pavant Valley and Millard County, family lore and stories that had never been recorded elsewhere. I copied it down word for word, since copy machines were not available then. When I was finished, I gave the journal back to Ila.

If we had not gone to Gunlock that day or if Eldonna had not gone to Gunlock so that we were there at the exactly the same time, or if her eyesight had not been good enough to recognize me or if we had not had a chance to visit and remember Marian, I would never have learned that the history even existed. Eldonna died a few years later. I never got a chance to visit with her again.

Note by Ellen: Incidentally, Mom and Dad did find Grandma Leavitts’s grave. A few years ago several of Sarah Studevant Leavitt’s descendants got together and put up a monument to her in St. George, but her grave is actually in Gunlock.
You are right, Grandma is older than her brother Ward. I guess she meant to say he was the "patriarch" of the family, being the oldest son.