Gleaned from the traditions and memories of a few people, who witnessed and recorded some of the events of interest in the lives of my own people, lest we forget the deeds they performed to bring about conditions that made possible the blessings we now enjoy. I wish to preserve in these pages a few of the memories of my father and his people.

My grandfather, Joseph Walton, was born September 17, 1829, in Whitborn, Herforshire, England. His parents Thomas and Jane Walton, were farmers and of modest and humble circumstances. Being of a family of five sons and three daughters, Joseph was compelled to hire out to neighboring farmers as a hand, at a very small wage, the greatest part of this small wage being turned over to his parents to help support the family.

In the early days of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, when some of the first missionaries were sent to England with the new message, Joseph's father and, his family heard from the lips of such great missionaries as Heber C. Kimball and Orson Hyde this message of truth. The whole family was converted to the Church. On 18 November 1849 my grandfather was baptized by Elder Edward Jones in England.

Joseph Walton was anxious to join the Saints in America, and to help them build Zion. After three years of hard work, saving and sacrificing, he realized his dream and desire.

In January of 1852 this young man walked up the gang plank and onto the old-time sailing vessel Kenebec, which was to bring him to a people who would understand and appreciate his desires and belief. For nine long weeks, this small ship tossed and plowed through the waves of the great Atlantic, and at last Joseph set foot on the soil of America at the docks at New Orleans.

As I remember the stories he related to me when I was a mere lad, he worked as a dock hand on one of the river boats that carried him up the Mississippi to St. Louis. Upon arrival in St. Louis, he met many of the Mormons who were preparing to make the long march across the plains to Salt Lake City. Joining them, he was assigned the task as teamster. His responsibility was to drive two or three yoke of oxen drawing heavy prairie schooners loaded with food, clothing and supplies for those making this long trip, ad for those who were already in Salt Lake City.

After weeks and months of hardship, this brave band of hardy pioneers landed in Salt Lake City 17 September 1853, and camped in Emigration Square, non known as the City and County Building Grounds.

Joseph Walton was called by Brigham Young to go back to Sweetwater and other points with supplies, and to help bring back emigrants to Utah. It was on this return trip that he met Ann Thompson at a bonfire dance at the end of a hard day's travel. This meeting was the beginning of their romance, which culminated in a marriage lasting 58 years full of happiness, sorrow, hardships, and true devotion to their Church and God.

While writing this story, my mind goes back to my early remembrances of my grandmother, Ann Thompson Walton. She was small in stature. I only remember her with beautiful snow-white hair, always combed neat, with a bob at the back of her neck. She was a quiet, sweet and loving personality. Her pure- white long apron, with long apron strings down the back, seemed to match her hair. Always did she keep cookies and goodies on hand and never did we fail to get these tasty morsels when we went to Grandma's.

The floors in her house were only bare boards, but were scrubbed to a snowy white and never a spot could be found. I have often wished that I could have a room with a board floor, and especially would I have liked the old flour and provision bin where those good cookies were kept, in a house of my own.

While knitting stockings and combing wool for quilts for the winter, Grandma told me many stories of her girlhood days in England, and about her trip to America, across the plains to Utah, and the early days here. Never did I hear her complain of the life that was her lot to live.

It was while listening to one of these stories that I learned of her people whom she left for the Gospel, which she knew was true, and the great testimony she had.

Ann Thompson was born 27 February 1820 at Lichfield, England, the only daughter of Thomas and mary Thompson. Her parents died soon after she was born and she was adopted by a family by the name of William Wright and raised as their own child. They provided her with all the luxuries that well-to-do people could bestow on her in the way of a home and comforts.

She used to tell me stories of the kings and queens of her native land, and that she had lived during the reigns of King George the 4th, William the 4th, and Queen Victoria.

Sometime during the summer of 1847 some Mormon Elders visited Lichfield, and out of curiosity Ann and a number of her associates went to hear them. She said their arguments appealed to her from the first. Their talk was on the subjects of faith, repentance and baptism for the remission of sins. She attended the meetings frequently, and invited the Elders to visit her home and her family. The family was much displeased and were opposed to her attending the church meetings, but the truth continued to ring so loud in her ears that she accepted the faith, and by doing so was driven from her home. Mr. Wright told her that she could have all his wealth, which was considerable, if she would renounce the faith she had accepted, but if she went with the Mormons he would not give her a penny. She would not give up the great truth she had found, and after Mr. Wright had turned her out she told him that because he had turned against her because of her faith he would die a pauper, and true to her prediction he lost his wealth and died a pauper.

She was the only one in the city up to that time that had embraced the Gospel, and when she saw the light she had no fear of the consequences of joining. Many convictions such as this has she shown in her lifetime.

Realizing that she was alone in the world, her desire was to join the people of her faith, and she set about, with three trunks, to go to America. She had to take a coach for eighty miles from Lichfield to Liverpool, and when boarding the ship John M. Wood she said goodby to her native land never to return again.

For seven weeks and two days she was on the water. As accommodations were limited, and since she was unable to pay for a better bed, she was compelled to use one of her trunks to sleep on at night. I have often looked at this old tin trunk and have seen the slightly crushed-in lid she used for a bed, and have tried to picture this brave young girl and how courageous she must have been, as she lay there dreaming of her future. She was all alone, and I can see her reading her Bible and Book of Mormon during those long days on the water.

At last the day came, 2 May 1854; sixty-four years to the day later I myself landed in France as a soldier in the World War. On this day in 1854 Ann Thompson set foot upon the soil of America to begin a life that has made possible the joys and comforts that we now enjoy.

From New Orleans, up the Mississippi River 1700 miles, the route laying along the left bank of the river, on to the camp of the Mormon Pioneers who were preparing to leave for Utah. Here she joined the Kearns train and set out for the long trek across the vast plains.

At the end of a hard day's travel, the wagons were drawn into a circle and a bonfire was made, and there was singing and dancing. It was at such a dance that she and Joseph Walton met for the first time.

In October of that year they were married at Mill Creek by Reuben Miller. They lived in Mill Creek during the following severe winter, their only home being wagon box with a cover drawn over the bows. This would be a real test today if we were asked, especially while during our honeymoon days, to live during a severe winter in such an impoverished shelter as they lived in during that winter.

The following spring they moved to Mountainville, since renamed Alpine They were called by Brigham Young to go there and help colonize this little town. Alpine is a beautiful little village, nestled in a corner of the Wasatch range of mountains, about 35 miles south of Salt Lake City.

One of the first duties of the settlers was to build a wall to protect them from the Indians, and inside of this wall they built their homes of mud and sticks and logs. After the Indians had become more friendly, Joseph built a little log cabin outside the wall, with a dirt roof and dirt floor. It was in this humble abode that my father, Thomas Heber Walton, was born. I have seen this old house many times. In such a place my grandmother went through the ordeal four times of bringing her children into the world When I first saw it, it was used for a granary by John Healy.

Joseph Walton owned the first flag in alpine. Our little grandmother made every stitch of it about 1865. It was a flag with 13 stripes, and in the blue, a beautiful beehive was embroidered. It was presented to the Ward as a gift by Joseph Walton, and remained in the meeting house until it was destroyed by fire which swept the building away.

Joseph and Ann were parents of four boys: Joseph Benjamin, John James, Thomas Heber, and Alma.