Bennett T. Peterson
Memories of Bennett
“MY PA” - BENNETT THEODORE PETERSON, by Theodore Melvin Peterson
My Pa, Bennett Theodore Peterson, turned 17 years old August 22, 1892. He was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on September 1st of that same year in a pond in Waynesboro, Mississippi along with his father, Neils Christian Peterson and his brother, Henry. His mother, Annie Caroline Easterling had died two years earlier in 1890. Bennett was the oldest of the 8 children. There were 5 more boys: Henry, George, Will, Tom, and Joe. Two other children had died as infants: John and a stillborn baby sister.
Growing up, these six Peterson boys had access to a book similar to Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn. From this book they each took the name of a character as their own. Bennett was Patsy O'Feasey and Henry was Felin Goheagan. The rest of the names I do not know, but I remember Bennett and Henry greeting each other with these names. Some day I would like to run onto the names of the other boys. I wonder if they were ever used much. I'd like to see that book.
After Bennett's mother, Annie Caroline died in 1890, Neils Christian married Missouri Clay Browning. The Peterson Clan moved from Mississippi to Bountiful, Utah in 1892. Shortly afterward, they moved onto Pine Valley and then Loa, Utah. During that time Bennett married Addie Mae Wood and 5 children were born to them: Eva, George, Joe, Glen and Ruth. Addie Mae died shortly after Ruth was born. This was a circumstance many men experienced in those days.
Needing a mother for his children, Bennett met and married my mother, Florence Lorene Pulley, in 1910. She became the mother to the four children of Addie Mae. Bennett and Florence had 11 more children of their own: Ruby, Emma, Priscilla, James, Charles, Ted, Jeanette, Mary, Dorothy, Bennett and Jane.
Bennett and Florence raised these children on the farm at Val Verda in Bountiful, Utah. I don’t think we could have survived on our place without a shotgun. We had an orchard full of almond trees. The blue jays, magpies and squirrels thought it was their Garden of Eden. Being rather fleet-footed, we boys could tree a squirrel before it could escape and we’d blast it out of the tree. But Dad, being not quite so agile, like to sneak upon the squirrel in the tree with a 12 gauge shotgun cocked and ready.
Winter days were long and cold. We usually had veal to kill and hogs to butcher for our meat. Magpies were ever present as we had the head of a hog out in the field. They would grab a morsel and flyaway. This made Dad upset. He conceived a 12 gauge shotgun mounted in a vise on a sawhorse. With a long string as a tether from the trigger of the gun through a window of the house, Dad rocked by the fire and delighted in blasting the magpies as they landed on the hog's head.
Hauling hay from the flat above the house could be quite an adventure. James, Charles and I were the hay haulers most of the time. To bring the hay to the stackyard required us to bring the wagon down the dugway with one or more locked wheels. It was dangerous work. We dumped loads of hay several times into the oak brush. It was discouraging work to load it all again. When we were too young to handle the team, Dad would drive the horses down the dugway. I can still see him as he went floating off the wagon on top of a dumped load of hay.
Dad loved music. We had an upright piano which all of the girls played. Dad loved to hear us all sing. We spent a lot of time around our old piano. A part of his Church assignment was to lead the music. At Bountiful 2nd Ward, Orchard Ward and Val Verda Ward, I especially remember him leading the music. I can see him now with a hymn book tucked under his arm with a baton as a page marker.
When I was in my mid-teens, Dad was called on a mission to Mississippi, principally to collect genealogy information. I can also remember the priesthood brethren were called to collect missionary funds. Being a priest at that time, we collected funds that were used for Dad on his mission.
He had a great mission. Many of our Mississippi relatives remember him although they remain devout Baptists.
It is easy for me to remember the tender moments. I remember lying in Dad's lap with my head on his shoulder listening to him sing, "Skeeters Am A-Hummin' " as he rocked me at bedtime. I can also remember him taking his pocket knife, peeling an apple, cutting it into quarters, then scraping the apple with the blade of his knife and depositing the juicy tidbits into my mouth.
I always wanted to be treated by Dad the way he treated his grandson, Howard Martin. During the depression years, Howard and his mom, Ruby and dad, Lorenzo Martin, often lived with us on the farm at Val Verda for economic reasons. Howard called my Dad "Pa" and Pa called Howard "Pudge".
I think I learned from Dad as I watched him and Pudge, how a boy wants to be treated when he is little. Pudge loved horses and our place had a team of horses working or standing by most of the time during the summer. Pudge was a rather special boy. He and Dad knew they loved each other. Pudge spent hours riding on a a horse's back as his grandpa cultivated the farm. Once on the horse's back he never offered to get off. In fact, he fell asleep on the horse several times.
Part of Pudge's discipline came from Dad. I remember one time Howard thought he would out run Dad when Dad ordered him to "Come here!" Dad had in his hand a 10 foot runner from a seedless grapevine. We were pruning grapevines just east of the house. As Pudge started to run, Dad flipped the grapevine and it curled around Pudge's legs. He was captured in a flash by his grandpa.
I remember one incident similar to the grapevine story which fetched Howard to the ground. Dad and I were having an argument in the back yard near our woodpile. I was about 10 years old. When I heard the command from Dad, "Come here!" I looked over my shoulder. Dad had something in his hand, but I began to run. I had learned from Charles and James that sometimes it was best to flee at a time like this. The oak root in Dad's hand brought me to my knees.
Our daughter, Toni, wasn't very old when Ann and I brought her and our son, Randy, home to meet their grandparents. The conversation was that we were doing our best to multiply and replenish the earth and had as many kinds as Brigham. Dad had the ability to see things in their true perspective. He replied, "You haven't multiplied anything. All you've done is replace yourselves. "
Extra curricular activity after school was not possible for us boys. By the time we walked the mile or more from the Bamberger school train to our home, it was understood that a horse and cultivator or some other assignment would be waiting for us. As soon as we had changed our clothes and had large piece of homemade bread, covered with jam and washed down with a glass of milk we were expected to be at work. After working alone all day, Dad could see the value of added manpower to the running of the farm. We celebrated the 4th of July by watching the steady stream of cars coming home from Lagoon.
BENNETT THEODORE PETERSON, 22 Aug 1875 — 16 Jan 1957
by Vida Sawyer (Niece)
He was the oldest son and joined the church when his father did. He remained a faithful member until the time of his death.
He married Addie May Wood 25 June 1902 in the Salt Lake Temple. To them were born five children: Eva, George (who died at two months), Joseph, Glen and Ruth. She died in 1909.
He married Florence Lorene Pulley 14 Dec. 1910, also in the Salt Lake Temple. Their children were Ruby, Emma, Priscilla, James, Charles, Theodore, Jeannette, Mary, Dorothy, Bennett and Jane.
They had a large farm at Val Verda, east of Bountiful, Utah which provided a good living for their large family. They were always well dressed and had the necessities of life. They had a nice home. They all worked hard and shared the responsibilities. They were a happy family.
They were a faithful, devout couple and made every effort possible to live and teach the Gospel to their family and to others. He used to tell his children: “Live the Gospel every day of your lives in every way.” He set them this example by the way he lived himself and the way their home life was lived.
When the children were old enough to run the farm for a short while he went on a mission to Mississippi among the people of his mother’s family. He gathered much genealogy information on her line, and when he returned home they did much of the Temple work for this family.
He and Aunt Florence served faithfully in the many capacities they were called to do in the Church all their lives.
They had many friends and everyone was welcome to the home. With all their big family, we children always felt welcome and had many good times there.
He lived to the age of 82. He suffered a great deal before he died as he had cancer for two or three years. Through all his suffering he never complained against the Lord or lost his faith in God. Shortly before his death he gathered his family around him and gave to each one his Father’s blessing.
I do not think any finer man than Uncle Bennett ever lived upon this earth. He was a kind, loving man, an example of good to all who knew him. He was a man who truly lived what he believed throughout all his days.
We will always remember him with love and admiration.