Heritage Heroes

This blog was created as a place to post fun stories about the ancestors of mine and James. We are always in awe of their great sacrifices and hardships they endured in our behalf. We hope that the stories you read about these people will bring them to life and help us to connect with them. We will do our best to honor and respect their experiences and examples.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Elizabeth Maximilliana Folkman Ipsen


(I posted this on my personal blog, but thought I would post it over on this blog as well)

This week's heritage hero is about my great grandma on my dad's side (his mother's mom). I was named after my dad's mom, and I thought it was fitting to name our youngest after her mother. This is who our little lizzieboo (Elizabeth) was named after. Here is her story and photo:

Elizabeth Maximilliana Folkman Ipsen

Born Jan 31, 1875 Plain City Utah
Died Oct. 3, 1956 Lehi Utah

(This story is one of the many found in the stories my aunts wrote for a book they gave out at a family reunion about 15 years ago)

This baby girl was the fourth daughter born to her parents, Christopher Olsen Folkman and Maxilliana Maria Olivia Lingvall Folkman.

Elizabeth was always called "Lizzie". From conversations with her, she said she had to quit school in the eighth grade and go to work. Her mother taught her how to sew and when she was old enough, she lived with the rich families in Ogden and sewed for them.

When she was 29 yrs. old, she met a handsome young man with sandy red hair and clear blue eyes named "Mike" Ipsen. They were married on June 15 1903 in the Salt Lake Temple.

They had a beautiful baby daughter named Elizabeth. Then Heavenly Father sent them another choice baby daughter named Eva Mary. Six weeks after Eva was born, Elizabeth went back to heaven to live with Heavenly Father. Mike and Lizzie didn't have any more children. This made them very sad.

Lizzie was very talented. She could sew, cook, garden and do anything else that needed to be done. She didn't want anyone to waste anything; time, money, talent or food.

It was very important to her for her daughter, Eva and her grandchildren to have proper manners. She made lots of beautiful dresses for her six granddaughters.

She was a hard worker in the Church. She gave many, many hours of service. She had a strong testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

When I read this about this woman, it makes me wonder how she moved on with the sorrows of bringing home a new baby while losing their sweet other little girl. After that loss, they couldn't have more kids.

My grandma was an only child who herself grew up to have seven kids of her own. It makes me wonder what her support system was like. I know her husband went on many missions for the church, leaving at home his wife and only daughter often. I love that in this photo of her, she is holding a guitar. It again, raises questions as to how often she played, what songs did she sing, what did her voice sound like? These are questions I am sure to ask her and my grandma when I get a chance to meet them!

I know that I am grateful for her and the way she raised my grandma.

Friday, February 22, 2008

"We Are Who We Were"




This is my sister, Linda Faye Allen Starks. I have been thinking of her a lot today because she is so very sick. She has been in the hospital since before Christmas, 2007. She has been in our prayers and on the prayer rolls of several temples. For the first time in 8 weeks she was able to talk to Roger and asked him to pray for her and to ask his family to pray for her. If she only knew!!




I recently saw a movie, Amistad, and there was a line in the movie.."We are who we were." It was about a slave who was on trial in the 1830's and when he was about to go in front of the Supreme court he said he would not be there alone. The attorney thought he meant he would have his lawyers with him but he explained that his ancestors would be called upon to attend his trial because when one was in extreme need he could call upon his ancestors back to the beginning of time to come forward on his behalf and assist him.




This is how it is right now with Linda. While she is laying helpless with doctors and nurses doing what they can...legions of Linda's ancestors are gathering on her behalf on the other side of the veil. Some of them I know well. There is my mother, Dece. My grandmother, Pearl and my grandmother, Sadie are there. Of course the men are there too, but as I type this I feel my mother and both my grandmothers so strongly I KNOW they are diligently doing the things they do. There is no better medicine and no stronger comfort than this.




Linda's only daughter, Dece, has been at her side continually and has been feeding her and caring for her. How proud her grandmothers are of her! She is truly a gem. My brother, Roger, has been there too. Yesterday, he arrived to find Linda needed help and the nurses had dropped the ball. He stayed until evening when Jim came to be with Linda. Roger is our older brother and he is not about to let any of us go unaided. He will not leave a single detail unexplored and he is a blessing to us all.




Daddy, (Grandpa Allen) has been a stalwart on Linda's behalf. He has kept us all connected and aware of her progress. He is a comfort and a safe place to turn.




All of Linda's children and grandchildren have been praying for her to return home and be healthy. Jim, her husband, has been at her side faithfully. He was only away yesterday so he could go to the doctor for himself. It has been inspirational to witness.




I am sharing this with my family because I want them to know that when any of us are in need, we have each other and we have all those who have gone before. It is all of us together that make us who we are. It is something I am very grateful for.






Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Dece Rogers Allen





Grandma Allen would have been amazed at the ease of sharing family histories we have now. Here are a few pictures of her. I will be posting some of her letters home so you can see what a funny and normal teenager she was.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

In honor of my crazy siblings that I love!


I thought I would post the photo I created for the cover of the calendar I created for mom last year. Our kids might get a kick out of it. I truly do hope that you guys find the time to read through these great stories and try to add to them. If you want, you can email me the story and I would be happy to post them if you are not too keen on posting on the blog (or struggle to figure it out).

Just want to tell you all that I love you and thanks for being part of my family!

A Flake post

I realize that not all of those invited to be authors on this blog are related to the Flake family, but because I want to archive family history stories here, I will have my own personal family links set up for my family on this blog. James' family has set up a family blog, so I didn't add them as authors. I don't want that to deter me from posting stories that I find and want to include. Also, to any of you that want to add heritage stories of your spouse's families,please feel free and we can get links set up for your families as well. Again, if you need assistance in doing this, call me!

This is a story about James' great great great Grandpa Flake.
Here is the story of his death (James Madison Flake):

In June of 1850, James and some of his companions set out on a brief exploratory expedition in the beautiful country South of Sacramento. Henry Bigler and several other missionaries were along. One morning they broke camp early, and as they were saddling up, one of the men experienced difficulty in handling his horse. James, astride his mule, observed that the man had no cinch on his saddle. Dismounting, he took the cinch from his own saddle and gave it to him, saying, "You need this worse than I do."

They rode out on the trail. Sometime later James' mule, surprised by an object in his path, shied, jumping so quickly that both rider and saddle were slammed violently to the ground. James lay motionless. When he spoke, it was to make an earnest request. "BRETHREN, LAY HANDS ON ME." His neck was broken, and he lived but a few minutes.

In those few moments James Madison Flake came suddenly, unexpectedly to the end of his mission.

James' whole life since he joined the church had been given to helping his fellowman. He had spent a fortune helping them cross the plains to get away from mobs. Wrapped in a blanket, he was buried beside the trail. In six short years he had given his life, the lives of three children, and a fortune for the gospel in which he believed. On June 22, he would have been 35.

Esther Harrison Davis


Esther Harrison Davis was my great great grandma on my father’s side (and on his father’s side). She was a beautiful woman with a fascinating story. I am typing her story as I found it in a book that was written by my dad’s sisters for a family reunion. I happened to have the book because my brother (Wells) graciously handed over to me last year a stack of books that belonged to my dad. It was quite a treasure to receive! Here is Esther’s story:

This baby girl was born with three other babies. They are called triplets. Esther was the only baby to live. She was born in a foreign country named England. Her parent’s names were William Harrison and Sarah Esther Porter Harrison. She had a younger sister and brother.

Esther’s parents were baptized members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in England. Her mother, Sarah was living with her parents with her children when Esther’s father disguised himself and knocked on the door of the home. When his wife came to the door, he blew out the candle and stole their children;William Chase, age 3; Sarah, age 5; and Esther, age 7. Their father brought them to America on the ship called “Caravan”. These children never saw their mother again. Esther’s life became very hard and sad.

Esther was baptized in the Missouri River on November 28, 1861. It was very cold and they had to break the ice. She walked all the way across the plains with her feet tied in rags.

This family finally arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah on September 26, 1862. She now had a new mother.

Esther married a special young man named William George Davis. They lived in Utah. The Lord blessed them with eleven children. Six of these babies died. This pretty mother died when she was 37 years old. Her new baby died with her.

Another woman that I am anxious to meet and know!

Orville Morgan Allen


Orville Morgan Allen was a very colorful, strong man. He was passionate about the gospel and it showed. He was once one of Joseph Smith's bodyguards and he also was a Captain of one of the company's of Saints that left Nauvoo in the Exodus to Salt Lake. He was the Captain over the company of saints that experienced the Miracle of the Quails (this story is a lot like the story of Manna from the Old Testatment, very cool!. I am going to post one of his journal entries from their exodus together. You will get a little snippet of his personality from this entry. Enjoy:

Here is the story:
Sunday, 25th (Oct 1846)
Encamped on the west side of Soap Creek. I was superintending the brethren in their several duties all day. About 4 o'clock in the evening, a man was purchasing our goods and would pay in corn; amongst other articles traded away, SIster Savary let Bishop Knight have six plates which he sold to the man for 48 cents. Brother Savary at this time returning from hunting his cattle and finding that the plates were gone, commenced abusing his wife with his tongue. After considerable talk, she told him to "go and get them again then." He went to Bishop Knight and demanded them when the stranger said "if I cannot have the plates, I will , I won 't have anything." and went away. Knight went after him and succeeded in making a trade with him and getting the corn. Knight told me of the circumstances, and I went with him to talk to Savary upon the folly of his conduct when Savary daid, " I would not take six bits for my plates; I thought more of those plates than anything I have." Said I, "Savary, then you think more of those plates than you do of your wife." He replied, "I did." I then said, "I will give you a dollar for your wife." He agreed. I then offered him a dollar, he said "Give it to my woman." I did so, she accepted it. I then went for the clerk to make out the necessary writings, when we got to Savcary's wagon, he said, "I will not sign any paper, I consider I am an honorable man and my word is my bond." I asked him if he repented of his bargain, he replied "No." I then went to the wagon and began conversing with Sister Savarfy when he came up and said, "You have no business talking with my woman." I replied, "You have no woman, you have sold her;I bought her and shall claim her in time and eternity." Savary then ordered me away several times and became very abusive in his language to me and to prove the above, call George B. Gardiner, Solomon Wixom, Thomas Bullock, Stephen Perry, and Jesse P. Harmon.

I found this story in his ancestory file while I was in Nauvoo last year. This story makes me giggle.

Catherine Curtis Spencer

In the same spirit of Flashback Friday, every Sunday I would like to devote a post to sharing a story of our family heritage calling it Heritage Heroes.

I will start this tradition with the sharing of the story of my great-great-great-great grandmother Catherine Curtis Spencer. She was the mother of Aurelia Spencer Rogers ( who was the great grandmother to my Grandma Allen).

Her story is filled with: sadness, heartache, endurance, dedication, courage, love and devotion. I am posting her story from a file I retrieved while in Nauvoo IL last year. I would post a photo of her, but there isn't one that exists.

Her story:
On March 12, 1846, at Indian Creek near Keosauqua, Iowa Territory, Catherine died, just nine days short of her 35th birthday. She was the youngest daughter of a large and affluent family, and she had become accustomed to her father's fond and tender care. But when she joined the Church, she had to give up the refined life her father had given her and take up the persecuted life her membership offered.

In the trying conditions of the exodus, she often sang to her six children to relieve their hunger and chill. But the changes from a warm, brick home to an icy floor and canvas roof proved too much for her to endure. When her little ones came to the wagon to inquire of her condition, she would respond, "Oh you dear little children, how I do hope you may fall into kind hands when I am gone!"

A night or two before she died, she asked her husband, Orson Spencer to gather her children and friends around her. After she had kissed her loved ones, she said to her husband, "I love you more than ever, but you must let me go. I only want to live for your sake and that of our children." When asked if she had any advice for her father's family, she replied, "Charge them to obey the gospel."

Soon afterwards, she asked to be taken to a house, because the incessant rain had soaked her bedding and had made comfort impossible. Immediately a man named Barnes consented to have her brought to his house, which was not far from the camp. There she died in peace with a smile upon her countenance, and a cordial pressure of her husband's hand.

After her death, Orson Spencer buried her in Nauvoo next to thier youngest child, who had died nearly six months before. Brother Spencer notes in his wifes eulogy "her unceasing and dutiful bearing to her husband, and her matronly diligence in infusing the purest and loftiest virtues into the minds of her children." He explained that he did not write such a tribute in order to mourn for the dead;the dead would be taken from many evils to come. He wanted only to preserve his wife's image in their young children's memories.

John R. Young records a few more details about Orson and Catherine Spencer. Orson had graduated from an eastern college, Brother Young writes, and had become a popular Baptist minister. But when he heard the teachings of Joseph Smith, he and his highly educated wife gave up their home, friends, popularity and occupation and followed the Savior. Almost overnight, they had become strangers to their own kindred.

John R. Young comments add to the pathos of Catherine's death, particularly his account of the exchange between Catherine and her husband after they had received a reply letter from her parents: " The sorrowing husband wrote imploringly to the wife's parents, asking them to receive her into their home until the Saints should find an abiding place. The answer came "Let her renounce her degrading faith and she can come back, but never until she does."

This is someone I can't wait to meet on the other side!

Here is the first post for Heritage Heroes

On my own personal blog, I have been trying to post every Sunday, a story about one of my ancestors. After reviewing the concept, I thought starting a blog to store these posts would be best.

I invited my own siblings and mom to also be authors on this blog. I hope they utilize this type of forum to share stories, feelings, etc..If not, I guess they will have to tolerate me posting my own thoughts and stories.

I am grateful for my heritage and the heritage that I have been able to continue with my husband. I will add more posts from past Heritage Heroes posts to get this blog rolling....