The Old Rock House On First Street in Newton

By Defonda D. Collier

When I wrote the date on a check this June day in 1985, I thought of an inscription cut into the rocks on the south side of Grandpa’s rock house just under the south porch -- 1885.

No one ever told us what it meant, but I used to trace it with my fingers. Later on I wondered if it meant when the house was built. It Did. I read Uncle Joe’s Journal which said " enough of the rock house was completed so the family could move in before the winter of 1885--86." So it is now 100 years since that partially completed rock house became the first permanent home of Christian Hansen Larsen, and his wife Mariane, their four sons and two daughters ranging in age from Lorenzo who was 16 to William who was 2. Grandpa and Grandma were in their Forties. Soon two rooms would be added to the ground floor with two rooms above them on a second story.

This wonderful rock home became the first permanent home for the family and would bring to an end their pioneering activity in the harsh deserts of the early American west . For 17 years they had plowed virgin soil, built temporary homes with materials at hand, carried water and coaxed streams across parched land or between rows of vegetables in the garden. What a contrast this life had been to their life in the ‘old country’ with its emerald landscape, mild sea side climate, adequate rainfall for crops and where the highest mountain would be but a low hill to them now.

Now they were able to acquire land, livestock, fruit trees, gardens and settle down in the little town town to farm the land and make their contribution to society and the Church.

The rock home would stay in the family for nearly a century, exerting its magnetic pull on children, grandchildren of grandchildren who still drive by and hear someone say, "My Grandpa built this house" or" my Mother was born here". It will always be a shire to come back to.

Though none of the sons and daughters of the first family were born in the home, many if not most of the grandchildren were, as it became a launching pad for each new family while a home was being prepared. By the time the new century was only a few years old, all of these children would be married and in homes of their own and soon would have twenty - five growing grandchildren. Aunt Caroline never married.

In the days of our growing up it was like a human universe with the old rock home as the sun with five planets revolved around it. The five families lived only a few minutes walk from each other and from the center of the system. We were a grand mixture of parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and great aunts; a microcosm of society with people of all ages from new born babies to old age and with diversified personalities and dispositions. Though we were a heterogeneous lot, at the same time there was a strong sense of family and a security, as we knew not only one home but six homes where we were always welcome, at least for an hour or two, or more if need be.

The children saw each other daily as we sat side by side in day school and Sunday School We were often all together at the old home for family gatherings, both planned or casual drop-in visits. Holidays were always an excuse for sharing a freezer of ice cream and fun and games on Grandpa’s lawn or cow pasture. Some of us were best friends which called for additional time together.

Our little universe also had its satellites - people not part of the immediate family but tied to it by more distant blood relationship or by ties of endearment. Aunt Annie Sorensen was grandpa’s sister. "Tante Anne" as she was called in Danish. For years she lived at grandpa’s home for extended periods, alternating with her married daughter in Weber County. She made a polygamous marriage which for many years went very well. The two wives were devoted to each other. Karen, the first wife, said before she died, "Annie, promise me when you die you will be buried by my side." Annie was to lose Karen, and soon after, her two remaining children. Hans, the father, then married a widow lady with a family. When the Manifesto was passed, this family moved to Idaho and Aunt Annie was left to take care of herself.

Catty corner across the street from grandpa’s home was another smaller rock house built by Lars Neils Christensen, Grandma’s stepfather. When he died, his two daughters Aunt Dora and aunt Annie, came from Brigham City to live with Aunt Lizzie, a younger daughter by a subsequent marriage with Grandpa’s oldest sister. This was another auxiliary home for us.

NOTE: This was my parents first home and where I was Born. (Cyrel).

We all remember Aunt Lizzie as the village post mistress. When we would be sent to the post office for the mail we were sometimes invited into her inner sanctum but we had been warned by our mothers that this was out of bounds.

One well - remembered day I watched Aunt Lizzie being helped into a little one-horse buggy by a man that I did not know. He reminded me of Grandpa but his beard was dark brown, not gray as was grandpa’s. She rode away with him and never came back to the little house and I never got over it. To this day I remember how deprived I felt. We later found her out in the Hansen home but it was never the same. She had become the beloved mother to the Hansen children.

Aunt Dora and Aunt Annie later built a lovely frame house across the street.

NOTE: This is where I was raised from 4 years old till I got married. (Cyrel)

Aunt May came into the family by assignment of the Bishop. Two little Danish girls had been orphaned. The Bishop said, "Brother Larsen, will you take May and raise her as your own" and "Lorenzo, will you take Olga, her little sister? This was done. They grew up, married and left town but all of her life Aunt May made frequent visits back to the home and family, to the delight of us all. NOTE: Olga married and moved to Boltimore Md. So her visits were few, I met her and her son at Grandpa and Grandma’s fiftieth Weding Aniversery. (Cyrel)

But beyond these were - Einer Pedersen, Godfrey Hansen, Louis and Theodore Lohdefink, Carl Anderson, Carl Jorgensen, Canute Fabricious, Danish them all. When Grandpa was semi - retired from his farm work in favor of his sons, he went back for a visit to the old country ostensibly to obtain records of his ancestors. Could it also have been to report back to the folks back home in the old country? Grandpa was proud of his family, his home and what hard work and thirty four years had done for them in this land so far away. Grandma refused to go with him. One crossing of the ocean was enough for her. He took Mary his grown daughter with him. In three or four months they were ready to return back to their adopted land. It had been good to them. But here were these boys looking for a chance to get to America too. Grandpa saw the light in their eyes that could not be denied. He and his family set up their own perpetual immigration company. The boys would be helped with transportation in exchange for labor on the Larsen Farm’s and would live in one or another of the Larsen homes during their tenure. They too maintained life long ties of endearment to the family and made periodic visits back to their American home.

By 1919, Grandpa and Grandma were gone and Aunt Caroline was alone in the big house. That year she accepted a call by her sister and brothers to spend the next few winters in Logan and make a home for five nieces and nephews who were ready for high school. "But I can’t go and leave this house empty" she said. The Dowdle family with six children had outgrown the little home down by the creek. They moved up to the rock house and made it their permanent home.

Soon after Mother was widowed, her children had also left home and she and Auntie lived alone in the home until mother’s death in 1952. Then Auntie was alone. At eighty-four years she gracefully , if reluctantly agreed to go to a rest home in Logan. It was no longer safe for her to be alone. She outlived all of her brothers and sisters and was three months short of her one hundredth birthday when she quietly passed away.

It is sad to record that the old home we knew and loved was desecrated by antique hunters and later when Auntie could see she could never go back, she decided to let it go to save it from further damage. Though the sale of the house was legal enough, it was bought by insensitive and uncaring people who refused to allow her back through the door to get her personal effects. This was a devastating experience for her and for us all who had loved and lived and revered the old Rock Home in Newton.

(Used by permission of DeFonda D. Collier, August 1989.