Royal Edwin Tidwell

by Robert Frank Tidwell and Granddaughter Eunice T. Merrill

 

Eunice Tidwell Merrill writes: In response to my request for more information on my grandfather, Frank Tidwell wrote these recollections of his father on February 5, 1972. Dad stated he would "need some inspiration from my Heavenly Father to bring back some of the events of his life to my memory." There is, also, some additional information I wanted to include in this story which I have put in brackets. It came from an article written by an unknown author.

 

Robert Frank Tidwell writes: First, I want to say that he was the best man I have ever known in my association with people. He was born in Ogden, Utah, August 10, 1853, to Peter and Sophronia Tidwell. They moved to Cache Valley when he was a young boy [11 years old].  They lived in Richmond for a short time, then moved to Smithfield where he spent the rest of his life.

 

[He came to Smithfield at the time the Fort Liners were evacuating the fort and moving out to the town lots or onto their farmsteads. So Royal grew up along with forty to fifty other teenage boys and girls whose parents had come to make their home on Summit Creek shores. He attended the schools that were developing along with pioneer progress and took part in the Sunday Schools and in the Aaronic Priesthood work.]

 

He married Jane M. Nelson, December 12, 1878, in the Salt Lake Endowment House of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He and my dear Mother lived together for over 55 years. He passed away March 19, 1934 [80 years old].

 

Father was a very kind, loving, generous husband and father. In his life he was not one who would put on a big front to be seen of man. I only heard him giving a short talk once from the pulpit, but he was on the missionary committee for several years, giving his time and means to the work; but he did not care for conducting meetings. It was said at his funeral services by Bishop Nelson, that the Bishop would rather see a sermon than hear one, the kind my father lived. He had a testimony of the Gospel and showed it by his works.

 

Born to my parents were two daughters and five sons, four of them going on missions. His youngest son, because of work, missed a mission. I heard father say one time, "If I could send the other boy on a mission, the Lord would bless me so we could have the house painted again."

 

He was a very modest father, never indulging in evil or immoral thoughts and talk. I remember one time when he took several of us boys on a fishing trip out to Nielsen's Eddy (as it was called). While waiting for the fish to bite, we all decided to take a swim in the lake. As it wasn't a public place, we just stripped off our clothes and jumped in but not father. He went down the bank a few rods to some brush where he undressed, then swam up to us and kept his body under the water at all times. What a fine example to set before us as boys. Another sermon preached!

 

Now I would like to go back to his younger days on the physical side of life. He was a farmer by occupation and a real hard worker.

 

[He showed a keen ability to adapt himself to his pioneer environment; to take advantage of opportunities for personal aggrandizement and for the common good of his family and the growing community. He was a sort of genius, or what is sometimes called an all-around, handy man. The use of machinery and mechanic tools seemed to be first nature with him. If he didn't have the needed tools for a job-at-hand, he made them.]

 

I am thankful that was another sermon to us boys, as we were taught how to work and to know how to work. He was a great provider with food, clothing and shelter. He built his home before he was married on 3rd North and 1st East. He used to say to us many times, "Get the cage before the bird." I followed his advice and bought my home on 4th North and 1st East and had it paid for before I had my sweet little birdie for good.

 

I can remember 70 or 75 years ago when winters were hard and all father had was a wood stove and coal oil lamp and candles to use. He would go to the canyon and bring logs home, then put my brother, Roy, and me on a crosscut saw to cut the logs up into blocks and split and stack them for the winter. There was no coal then nor money to buy it if there had been.

 

Father and Alma Hillyard ran a horse power threshing machine for years and years. They worked together like brothers. I never knew of an ill feeling between them.

 

Father owned a fifty-acre farm which he had bought with hard-earned money. He had a team of horses to work the farm and to do canyon work. It was a very slow process as compared with the modern machinery we have today, but he got along fine, and we all lived happily together under those circumstances. He kept up with the progression of the times. He always kept his farm in the best of condition. His crops were above the average of his neighboring farmers.

 

[He was one of the good farmers of the community. He did his farm enterprises when they should be done — the way they should be done.  Poor plowing, poor cultivating, poor seed, poor harvesting and poor storage were no part of his plans and programs. Mr. Tidwell was an example to all in the kind of tools and equipment he had for his farming jobs and for the care and repair of them. He was one of the early planters of all sorts of fruit trees and berry plants and kept the best garden to be found in the community. All of these industrial character traits appropriate to hard work, thrift, economic good judgment and sound business principles gave him a lead in accumulating much excellent property.]

 

When he retired and moved down on 2nd North and Main, he had everything on the corner neat and clean. He also had about a quarter of an acre west of his house which he kept free of weeds and on which he grew several varieties of vegetables. I remember his head lettuce which looked like a cabbage head 8" to 10" wide. He didn't grow these things for money, but he would give them away to people who he thought needed them as they walked along the sidewalk. He was always so generous with all he had, including his love for everyone. Another sermon exposed!

 

Father was a good sportsman. He loved to hunt and fish and to do it legally. Another sermon to the boys, as we always loved hunting and fishing. His mother said that father wore the shoulder off his coat carrying his gun. The first gun was a muzzle loader which could be loaded with a charge which would sit you down in the mud if shooting birds in the air. Then later he bought a 10-gauge, double-barrel shotgun.

 

There wasn't any limit on ducks and geese then, so he kept the neighbors supplied with meat in season, and mother filled pillows and feather beds for all our comfort in the winter when it was really cold. One winter he said he killed 17 deer which gave meat to many of his neighbors.

 

He would fish in the creek up the canyon and below town, which yielded plenty of fine trout for all. I also remember times when he would go down to Bear River west of town and use little short lines about 6 feet long, baited with a small minnow 3" or 4" long and tied to a jug on the bank. The next morning he would go check the lines and bring home some very large trout. He said an old Indian taught him how to do this. Now about all the trout are gone and the carp have taken their place.

 

[Mr. Tidwell was one of Smithfield's leading supporters in public service — in building roads, bridges, churches, schools, water systems for irrigation and culinary use, and a leader in drainage systems. ]

 

Now Father had a full, comfortable and enjoyable life. He never had any sickness to require a doctor until the last 16 months of his life. He had his own teeth until the last. Those last sixteen months were terrible. He had a good heart and constitution, so the disease (cancer) had to wear him out. He never did complain too much, but he said often, "I don't think dying will be bad, but it's the getting ready to die that is hard." Alton and I stayed with him and mother most of the time during all his illness, especially at nights. Mother did all she could to make him comfortable.

 

I didn't know when I would ever get over his passing away, as we had lived so close to each other all my life. Now I feel so thankful that I never did neglect him or ever have any ill words with him that I can ever remember.

 

When I read the funeral services over and learn of the good truths said about him and know his life as lived, oh how thankful I am for my goodly parents.