The Early Years in Parowan: 1911 - 1919

Old Rock Church in Parowan, Utah

Florence was born November 21, 1911 in Parowan, Utah. She drew her first breath in a world tingling with exciting changes. The first automobile arrived in Iron County in 1907. In 1910, just a year before Florence’s birth, telephones and electricity reached the town. The Rex Theater opened, showing silent movies.

By 1911, Mahonri and Harriet had been married for nearly six years. All of the children from both families were still at home: Virgil (age 19), Alvin (17), Gertrude (14), Earl (12), Rachel (almost 10), Fae (5), and Blanche (3). Mahonri chose the name for his youngest daughter from his favorite missionary companion, Samuel S. Florence.

Extended Family Nearby

Mahonri’s brother Oscar lived in Parowan with his family, as did Harriet’s brother Frank and perhaps her brother Charley. Uncle George Decker lived in nearby Cedar City. Harriet’s sister Anna probably lived in Parowan for a time when Florence was quite young. Aunt Anna soon moved to California but was very good to the family through the years, although her colorful language did rub off on her young niece.

Verena, who married Alvin some years after his first wife died, remembers a story Alvin used to tell about his little sister and Aunt Anna. Anna had been visiting the family for some time, and she had a tendency to use language that was rather more colorful than one usually heard in the Decker household. One day, Harriet took Florence for a walk and stopped to visit with a Mrs. Evans. Mrs. Evans had her own sense of style, apparently. After the visit, as Harriet and Florence walked on their way, Florence turned to her mother and said, “Mamma, when I looked at Mrs. Evans, I thought, ‘Good Lord Almighty.’” Needless to say, gentle Harriet must have exhibited some surprise.

Aunt Anna and her brothers—Uncle Al, Uncle Clair, and sometimes Uncle William—visited Harriet and her family frequently, bringing with them the faraway air of Nevada and California. The Norris uncles would buy the children ice cream at Taylor’s Ice Cream Parlor or treat them to a night of traveling theater at the Parowan Opera House. Fae remembers the uncles buying them their first lollipops or their first box of chocolates and taking them for their very first ride in an automobile. Uncle Al had lost his arm in a train accident, and his nieces marveled at how he never needed help with anything.

Of the grandparents, only Grandfather Norris lived to meet Florence. In fact, some of Florence’s earliest memories were of long afternoon walks she took with her grandfather to his sister’s home on the edge of town. (This was probably Sarah Ann Norris Evans, who died in 1917.)  Aunt Sarah would always provide her niece with cloth, needle, and thread and tell her to sew whatever she pleased.

Grandfather Norris lived with the family during the last year or two of his life, probably from the time Florence was two until his death in October 1915, just before Florence’s fourth birthday. Fae remembers Grandfather Norris for his kindly ways, his impeccable manners, his carefully trimmed white beard, and his tidy suits. He used to sigh a great deal as he sat deep in thought. Sometimes, he would quietly gaze at a small picture he had bought once on a trip to San Diego. The picture showed a young girl sitting in a boat in the marshes. Aunt Anna said he bought all of the copies of the picture in the shop. No one seems to know what intrigued him about the girl in the marshes.

During thunderstorms, Grandfather jumped at every flash of lightning, exclaiming “Oh Lordy…Oh Lordy!” while Harriet sat beside him, trying to divert his attention with cheerful chatter. Woodrow was just a baby when his grandfather died. Grandpa Norris used to stroke his tiny hands and say he hoped those hands would never be ruined with rough work. Of course, Woodrow was a Decker, and hard work came with the heritage.

Home with Mamma and Papa

The house that MM built, as seen in 2012

When Florence was three or so, her father began building a new house right next door to their current home and west of the town square in Parowan. Fae remembers the excitement of playing around the unfinished home and imagining how the new parlor would look, all carpeted. In the evenings, Papa would build a fire out of the wood shavings, and the family gathered for stories. Papa took special pride in the two stained glass transom windows, one for the dining room and one in the parlor. Harriet loved the new home, as well, with the piano and the handsome phonograph and one of the early electric washing machines.

The girls played near the lilac bushes in a playhouse Mamma persuaded Papa to build out of the piano box. And on lazy summer afternoons, as a particular treat, Papa would take the family back to the field with him after lunch. They would pack lemonade and cookies and make a picnic while Mama rested in the shade. After sundown, Papa would lift the children up onto the wagon, and they would nestle in the hay for the ride home, tired out from an afternoon of play. Fae, at least, was terrified of the ride atop the swaying load of hay, but the afternoon in the field was worth the terrifying trip home.

Mamma and Papa formed quite a team, proving along the way some measure of truth to the old adage that “opposites attract.” With frail health and timid demeanor, Harriet stayed to the background of community and church life, constantly in awe of her children’s confidence in public speaking and performing. Despite her gentle nature, however, she commanded the respect and love of her children.

For his part, Mahonri kept his wife on a pedestal, treating her with honor and respect, saving his more demanding nature for his children and those who failed to live up to his high expectations. Even then, Fae said her father had a firm voice rather than a firm hand. One look or word from him meant instant obedience. He swore often, in the way of farmers, but he never profaned. In fact, his daughters used to wonder at the fact that he would swear and pray with equal fervor. The Deckers were no wilting violets, proud of their reputation as “fearless” men, and Mahonri always felt the Lord had blessed him with exceptional strength in order to protect others. He loved his mission to the Eastern States, loved singing in the choir for decades, loved trading stories and making the occasional wager during evenings around the campfire with other farmers as they hauled freight in the off-season.

Fae remembers family nights, gathering around the organ to sing while Papa played in long, drawn-out chords, or popping corn and listening to Papa’s mission stories. Mahonri took great pride in his mission nickname of the “Walking Bible” and he delighted in recounting tales of killing a copperhead snake, taking a canoe ride down a wild river, and preaching until three in the morning. Mamma would read bedtime stories or poetry in her clear, light voice. When it was his turn to read, Papa read the Bible, usually Isaiah, or a novel such as Ben Hur or Zane Grey.

Sunday mornings had their own ritual. Regular church attendance was a given, and by some miracle the entire Decker family settled into their pew 15 minutes early for services each week. Mamma curled the girls’ hair on papers or pieces of torn sheets on Saturday night, brushing them out Sunday morning while Papa tied the sashes. They met in the Old Rock Church then, with Sunday School in the morning, Sacrament meeting at 2 p.m., and M.I.A. for the young people in the evening. In between Sunday School and Sacrament meeting, the family gathered for Sunday dinner. Alvin’s job was to whip the cream for the traditional whipped cream cake that always accompanied dinner.

Like most children, Florence and her siblings loved the magic of the holidays. On Christmas Eve, Mama and Gertrude (quite a woman by this time) shooed the younger children off to bed, where they lay in the dark and listened for reindeer hooves on the roof. Every year, a group of young men came serenading. They would harmonize under the windows for a time, and then Papa would throw the door open and invite them in for treats.

Fae tells the story of the beginning of this traditional Christmas Eve serenade. It seems Papa had been assigned as a monitor at the town dances, watching for the evils of the foxtrot or couples dancing too closely. Around Thanksgiving one year, he ejected a group of young men from the dance for some offense. Though some in the town grumbled behind Mahonri’s back, these young men showed up on the Decker doorstep a month later, caroling nervously and making amends. Mahonri welcomed them warmly, and they returned year after year.

Christmas morning brought its own magic, with stockings filled with candy and nuts and oranges and presents like the new dolls that Mamma and Gertrude dressed in rose-colored dresses and glass beads. Sometimes, Papa would rent a sleigh and take the family for a joyride behind his prize team of horses.

During these years, Mahonri farmed and raised sheep. Like most farmers in the area, he also hauled freight. Local farmers hauled loads of timber over to the mines around Delmar, Nevada and then loaded their wagons with ore to take to the railroad in Milford. In Milford, they traded loads of ore for dry goods destined for the towns of southern Utah. Mahonri gained quite a reputation for his strength on these trips, and folks boasted that he could single-handedly lift a forty (or was it fifty?) gallon barrel of water onto a wagon loaded high with timber.

Silas Orton told another story of the freighting days: “One time on our way home from Milford, I came down with smallpox. The company was scared to death, but Mahonri took me into his wagon box and put his own blankets and buffalo robe over me. At night he would climb in bed beside me. He took care of me until we got home. I credited Mahonri with saving my life.”

The War Years

To a young girl whose entire world stretched little further than the fields outside of town, the Great War must have represented little more than a topic for grownup conversation or a reason for a parade. And yet, even for Florence the war years gave her a first acquaintance with life and death.

Florence’s brother Woodrow was born on May 10, 1914, just two months before the start of the Great War. In addition to the death of Grandfather Norris, Florence also lost two uncles during those years. Uncle Charley Norris died in 1916 at the age of 48. Uncle Ernest Norris died the following year at the age of 40. Ernest died in Nevada, and Florence likely had little contact with him. Uncle Charley, however, probably lived in Parowan until his death. On June 13, 1917, just after the draft began, Florence’s brother Alpine was born.

Fae tells a story from the summer when Florence was perhaps five years old. Mamma had taken the girls to buy fabric for their 4th of July dresses, an absolute necessity in those days. They walked down to the old Equitable Store, where Fae and Blanche chose a lovely voile fabric printed with summer flowers. The storekeeper then pulled out a bolt of blue cloth, which Florence disliked. “I would ratho have the lavendo,” she said. Although little girls of the time did not usually voice opinions so bluntly, her serious face and childish voice charmed the shopkeeper. Mamma gave in, and Florence wore lavender for the 4th of July.

Florence, age 5

Florence seems to have worked her way into the hearts of her family from the beginning. To her half-brothers, Virgil and Alvin, she was particularly special. She remembers sewing buttons on Virgil’s shirts when she was just five years old and he was in his mid-twenties. One day, Virgil whisked her off across town to have her photo taken in her beautiful white embroidered dress. Looking back on that photo, Florence thought the heavy black stockings and shoes looked hideous, but Virgil was entranced by her Sunday curls and dainty dress and wanted to capture the moment.

Virgil had few opportunities to dote on his sister. By the time she arrived, he had his own life, attending college in Cedar City and then Logan and only returning to Parowan periodically. In September 1917, he married Edith Kjar. Just a few months later, in February 1918, Alvin also got married. But war interrupted family bliss. Both brothers were drafted into the army and went off to war in the summer of 1918, leaving pregnant wives behind. Uncle Frank had already left for war around January 1918. Happily, the Great War ended within a few short months, and all three men arrived home in January 1919.

While her brothers and uncle went off to war, Florence started 1st grade in the long, yellow school building in Parowan. The elementary school children had their classes in the west wing of the school, with the junior and senior high students in the east wing. Florence’s first grade teacher was a Miss Parry from Cedar City, and it was in Miss Parry’s class that Florence met her lifelong friend, Lillian Adams. Lillian remembers that the friends made an agreement right there in 1st grade that they would each read more books than the other. They kept at it until Florence’s death.

About the time the men returned home from the war, Florence’s half-sister Gertrude married Ancel Adams on January 10, 1919. The two sisters had grown quite close, and Florence had warm memories of sharing a room with lavender wallpaper. Perhaps Mahonri and Harriet hung the lavender wallpaper to please Florence, or perhaps she loved the color because of her memories of time with Gertrude. In any event, lavender remained her favorite color for years to come.

Back from the war, Virgil moved north, eventually settling in his wife’s home town of Manti. Alvin and Gertrude stayed in Parowan, in close contact with the family. Earl and Rachel still lived at home during Florence’s early years.

Florence started second grade in Parowan in 1919. Her youngest brother, Homer, was born in September, right at the beginning of the school year. With a new baby, the beautiful home that Papa built, and the older boys home from war and beginning their own families, this must have been a happy time for the family. Still, Mahonri grew restless. He had tried to leave Parowan once before, as a teenager, but his mother persuaded him to stay. Now, once again, the promise of new opportunities beckoned. Nowadays we would call it “mid-life crisis.” In any event, just a few weeks after his 50th birthday, Mahonri bought land in Delta and prepared to move his family.