Uphill Both Ways

Wedding Days

Our oldest got married last year. We celebrated with some wonderful family traditions.

 

They got married in the morning at the Mount Timpanogos LDS Temple on a bitter cold January day. They were married by her grandpa, who is a sealer at the temple, which was a real treat.

Then we had a family luncheon, and later in the day, a beautiful reception with a wedding cake... 

 

...and dancing with her daddy.

We had great photography, and friends and cousins made beautiful music to entertain us. 

 

We sent them off with confetti - and their friends of course decorated their car. 

It was a completely lovely and wonderful day! Doesn't she make a beautiful bride?!

But wedding traditions weren't always the same in our family.

On another cold January day - this one in 1889 - Virie Mendenhall and Nephi Perkins took a bobsleigh - and two of their school friends to act as witnesses - and rode up Dayton Canyon in Idaho. They arrived at the home of the Justice of the Peace and were married. Just like that.

At the Mendenhall ranch, everybody was waiting for them. There they had a wedding dinner, and rolled back the rugs for dancing.  Several guests gave recitations and Nephi and his cousin, Dave Evans, sang duets. (I wish I knew what songs they sang!) So far, it seems a lot the same, doesn't it?

This is where the traditions get really different...

It was a custom at the time to "put the bride and groom to bed."

Friends would put the bride in the groom's nightshirt and the groom in her nightgown - usually over their regular clothing. Then they were tucked into bed together. (I'm sure it was way more fun for the friends than for the bride and groom...)

During the evening, Virie knew what was coming. She quietly tucked a key in the top of her high-buttoned shoe. When the festivities came to an end, it was time for the great joke. But the couple was missing.

No one had seen them slip away. Soon everyone was laughing and calling through the locked door of the little upstairs bedroom. Someone asked George, her father, for the extra key - but all the keys were gone.

There was not going to be any "putting to bed" on this night!

Celia, Nephi's older sister, pounded on the door with both hands and shouted, "You just wait until the next time you two get married!"

What are your family wedding traditions - and how do they compare to the traditions of your ancestors? I hope you'll leave me a comment and tell me about it!

Post Script:

I'm so excited and honored that Uphill Both Ways is featured this week on Genea-Musing's "Best of the Genea-Bloggers" list!

Every week, Randy Seaver selects from hundreds of blog articles written by genealogy bloggers, and posts his "Best Of" list on the blog "Genea-Musings."  THANKS SO MUCH Randy for including me in your list for March 1-7! And thanks Becky for nominating me! The article he selected from Uphill Both Ways is "Two Wrongs Never Made One Right." There are so many wonderful blogs and great writers. I'm really flattered to be included with them.

And can you believe the time it must take every week for Randy to read all of our articles and publish this list for of us?! You can read his list at Genea-Musings - be sure to take a look at all of these blogs. There's lots of good things happening in the Genea-blogging world!

  

"By Dod, I Had to Bury an Indian!"

George Madison Mendenhall was an Idaho rancher who raised cattle and horses and always wore a beard. He served as a minute man in the army and was a soldier in the Blackhawk Indian War.

I picture a man of great courage. I look at this picture and I really think I see a twinkle in his eye - like he's going to start laughing any minute!

In our family, this Grandpa is not known by the name Grandpa Mendenhall or Grandpa George. In fact, most of the kids don't even know his name. We just call him "The Grandpa that shot the Indian." That's because his story is famous (at least among us!)

Uncle Leonard Perkins told the story in his own words (told probably in the 1950's) as Grandpa Mendenhall related it to him:

Grandfather told me this incident that happened in their early-married life. (Sometime around 1868.) They lived in a one-room log cabin, which was located north east of the house which still stands today. As far back as I remember this log cabin was used for a chicken coop, with a wide shed built on the west side and in front of the barn.

One evening Grandfather and Grandmother were sitting, side-by-side on the door step, enjoying the coolness of the evening, with a loaded gun lying across Grandfather's knees as protection in case of marauding Indians, when a bullet passed between them and lodged in a plank of the door. They could see where the shot was fired from by the smoke in the sagebrush as they looked out toward the point of the hill to the north.

Grandfather quickly pulled up his gun and fired into the smoke and he and Grandmother passed quickly into the house. They were not molested any more that evening or through the night.

The next morning, Grandfather walked over on the hill to the place where he thought the shot had been fired from. As he related the sotry, he said, "By dod, I had to bury an Indian!"

In 1st grade, Miles, George's great-great-great grandson, had to make a journal entry in class every day. This is one of his entries - his version of "Grandpa Shot an Indian." I think it's the best retelling yet!





What's your family's favorite ancestor story? Leave a comment and tell us about it! Just click on "comments" below and follow the instructions.

Comments Imported from Blogger:

3 comments:

tipper said...

A wonderful story to be passed down through your family! Makes me smile too.

Gayle Gresham said...

What a great story!

Gayle Gresham said...

And Miles' version is a keeper! There's a writer in the making!