My Pioneer Stock (A Pioneer Day Re-post)

Ever since I left the Mormon Church to join the Church of Sleep-in on Sunday and go to Brunch, I have experienced a significant improvement in quality of life. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still love my Mormon ancestors. I am particularly proud of the Mormon women. The men did a lot of interesting stuff, and the polygamists are just wacky fun. But the women? The women could give birth in a back room with nothing for pain management but a stick between their teeth and not even wake up the other wives sleeping upstairs. And then they got up and washed the sheets. Those women were ballers.

In honor of Pioneer Day (or, as we heathens call it, Pie and Beer Day), I want to write a brief biography of my Great Great Great Great Grandmother, Phebe Draper Palmer Brown. Phebe was the daughter of William Draper, for whom the town of Draper in Salt Lake County is named (or for her brother William Draper – I have heard it both ways). She was born 1797 in Rome New York. The Drapers moved to Canada when Phebe was a girl and she married her first husband George Palmer at the age of 18. The Drapers joined the LDS church a few years later (though George never did) and Phebe was baptized by Brigham Young. George and Phebe had six children and another on the way when he up and died on her in 1833. She was 38.

Phebe packed up her family and followed the Drapers back to the states. They met up with other Canadian Saints but were driven out of Ohio and then Missouri by Mormon-haters. They eventually settled in Nauvoo, Illinois. She received a patriarchal blessing from Joseph Smith who told her to be good and that she would get another man. This was a little ahead of the polygamy trend, but I don’t think Joseph would have snatched her up in any case. He preferred 14 year-olds who had not yet pushed a half a dozen babies out of their vaginas. Phebe was 40 and she looked like she had pushed two of her seven children out of her eyes.

brown_phoebe_draper

My sisters and I often joke about having inherited our looks from Phebe.

Phebe worked hard to support her family and I have read she had some talent for nursing. Luckily she wasn’t too good at it, because after Phebe failed to nurse her friend Ann Brown back to health, she married her widower, Ebenezer. That was in 1842. Ann left him with four young children and it just made sense to join forces. He was a looker, also.

ebenezerbrown_copy

The Mormon situation in Illinois was becoming untenable. In 1844 Joseph Smith was killed. In 1846, Phebe and Ebenezer joined the group of Saints who were following Brigham Young (now president of the church) west to the new “Promised Land.” They were passing through Council Bluffs Iowa in July and were met by US soldiers. The war with Mexico was in full swing and the soldiers asked Brigham to give them 500 men to take to California to fight. He complied – hoping to obtain government aid for the migration (because he was a “taker”).

Along with another 550ish Mormons, Ebenezer and Phebe both volunteered – probably to get away from the children. Actually, Phebe’s 14 year-old son Zemira Palmer joined also. They pawned the younger children off on relatives in the wagon train.

What would come to be known as “The Mormon Battalion” marched 2,000 miles from Council Bluffs, Iowa to San Diego, California. Phebe worked as a cook and laundress and Zemira served as a Colonel’s aid. The trek was pretty miserable, by all accounts. They walked through the deserts and mountains… for a year. Phebe was one of only four women who made the entire trip and at 49 she was by far the oldest of the four (the second oldest was 22).

Considering the distance and the difficulty of the terrain, they actually made pretty good time. But by the time they got to San Diego, the war was over and the Battalion was dismissed. (There is one story about a herd of wild cattle attacking the Battalion as they crossed through Arizona, so they did see some action.)

Ebenezer and Phebe were out of money so they re-enlisted for another year. They were sent to Sutter’s Mill and were among the group who found flakes of gold in the American River, a discovery the led to the California Gold Rush. They collected a small amount of gold but then received the call from Brother Brigham. It was time for them to re-join the Saints in Salt Lake City.

On their way back through the California mountains, they were part of the group that discovered the remains of the Donner-Reed party. (I know what you are thinking. “What? Not possible! Was your GGGG Grandmother Forest Gump?” I don’t know how much of it is true. I just know what I have read.) The survivors and rescuers of the Donner Party had been unable to bury the dead due to the ice and snow, so the Mormons stopped and buried all the bodies they could find before pressing on to Salt Lake City.

Phebe, Ebenezer and Zemira arrived in Salt Lake in 1848, at the end of a 3,000 mile journey. Phebe had a mule to ride by then, so that’s nice. They settled in Willow Creek, which would later be renamed as “Draper,” as I mentioned before. Ebenezer became the Postmaster, but he couldn’t read so Phebe (who was well educated for the time) served as Postmistress. She also ran a school for small children. Zemira was sent to work in Orderville, which was Brigham Young’s big communist experiment. Two guesses as to how that turned out.

Unfortunately, Brigham Young wasn’t finished with the Draper-Palmers yet. Brother Brigham told Ebenezer that he wanted him to become a polygamist and have more children. Phebe is said to have approved, and in 1853 and 1854 Ebenezer married two more women. One of them died a decade later, leaving Phebe with yet another brood of small children to raise.

Phebe died in 1879 at the incredible age of 82. (Granted, in the photo she appears to be about 127, and it looks like she made at least part of her 3,000 mile march by walking with her face.) That lady was a stone cold badass, and I’m proud to be her descendant.

Also, in reading up on all of this stuff, something has occurred to me that may be a brilliant bit of insight as to how Mormon services are operated. Perhaps the reason that those damn meetings are three hours long is because it was the only time those poor people got to sit down! It HAD to be as long as they could possibly get away with!

One more thing – this is a letter from Zemira to Phebe from Orderville. I think it is adorable in its presciently passive/aggressive tone, which is still the Mormon modus operandi.  I especially love the way he waves off his inheritance and then signs the letter from “your unworthy son.”

Letter from Zemira Palmer to his mother Phebe Draper Palmer Brown

Heavy Heavy Hangover

Heavy Heavy Hangover

“What do you want for your birthday?” a friend asked.

“Oh, I don’t deserve a present.  Just give me a lump of coal in a brown paper sack.  That will make it easier for you to hit me in the head with it.”

My friend gave me a blank stare which he accented with thoughtful blinking.  Finally he asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know.  That game you play when you’re a kid?  ‘Heavy heavy hangover… thy poor head…’?”

More blank staring and thoughtful blinking.

So I explained the game.  The birthday boy or girl would have to sit in a chair and everyone who brought a gift to the party would, one by one, go stand behind the child and say the whole rhyme.  Which went, “Heavy heavy hangover, thy poor head.  What would you wish with a BUMP on your head?”  And when you say “bump,” you would wallop the birthday kid over the head with your gift.  And you could smash them as hard as you want and they couldn’t get mad.  And then, as you would hand them the gift to unwrap, they would wish for something specifically for you.  Usually it was for something completely outlandish and impossible.  Like a pony, or a trip to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

“That’s… completely… odd,” said my friend as diplomatically as possible.

“You really didn’t play that game growing up?” I asked.  “Seriously?  I always assumed that everyone played that at birthday parties.”

I asked about twenty people over the next couple of days if they had ever heard of this game, and no one had.  I called my parents to ask them where it came from, but it turns out that neither of them ever played it as kids.  In fact, they hadn’t heard of it until my sisters and I learned it from the neighbors.

I brought it up again at my birthday party.  “Have any of you ever heard of ‘Heavy Heavy Hangover?’”

This time, my friend Gina (who was also raised in Utah) immediately started chanting the rhyme in a funny put-on kid voice.

“Yes!” I said.  “Finally!  I thought I was going insane!”

“Mormons are so weird,” someone else said, after we explained the game to the room.

“That’s just it!” I said.  “It can’t be a Mormon thing; it has the word ‘hangover’ in it!  Right?”

“Maybe that’s what Mormons think hangovers are,” Gina offered.

“Maybe…” I wondered.

I Googled it but didn’t solve the mystery.  I found some references and it definitely seems to be Utah and even Mormon centric.  But  I didn’t find an origin story.

Then, sometime later, I was re-reading The Great Brain, a children’s book by Utah writer, John D. Fitzgerald and he referenced the game (and he didn’t explain it, so apparently he thought it was ‘a thing’ too), proving they were playing it in Utah as early as the 1910s.  Wherever it came from, it’s probably a good thing it never caught on in any global sense.  Sure, it was fun for us to brain each other when we were kids.  But kids can handle that sort of thing because – as everyone knows – children are made of galvanized rubber and polyurethane.  If everyone carried a connection with birthday gifts and head injuries into adulthood, as I have done, this world would be a much scarier place.  Especially when you consider that more than one of my lovely friends bought me wine for my birthday.  One well placed thwack with that and I’d be permanently lobotomized.  I’d wander around for the rest of my life drooling on people while wishing them ponies.

And Mormons think that alcohol is bad for you if you drink it.  Can you imagine?

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