Malinda Gimlin Lewis &
Francis Winfred Moody
Malinda Gimlin Lewis was born 10 September 1866, in Minersville,Utah. Her parents were Samuel Lewis and Sarah Jane Huntsman.
Not much is known of the doings in the childhood days of Malinda, but we will tell a few incidents of her early life as she has told it to her children.
June moody, daughter of Malinda says: "As I remember mother she was slender built, had blue gray eyes, dark brown hair which hung to her waist and she could even sit on it. I remember combing her hair many times. It was beautiful when it hung over her shoulders, or done up in a big bob at the back of her head. I always thought my mother was a beautiful woman. I never remember of her ever scolding me but once, she had made Glenna and I a pretty white dress for the 4th of July. We wore those dresses to church on Sunday and were to change them in the afternoon to keep them lovely for the celebration the next day. We went home with some of our cousins after church and wore the dresses all day, naturally getting them messed up for the 4th, and mother scolded us for not changing them properly. Mother had a beautiful voice and she could sing so clear and high. I did love to hear her sing."
Back to Utah: Mother said when they lived in Panguitch it was so cold they had to chop through three feet of ice to get water for the cattle to drink, and cut the tree tops to feed them. While the family was eating breakfast one morning Brother Trajo knocked on the door, and was let in. Father asked him how he was; Brother Trajo said "I don't know, my horse all die, my cow all die, got two wagon, guess they no die, sell one to get a little mutt, to get a little grass, to make a little gravy, maybe so maybe so no. I don't know."
It is told of Aunt Keturah that once when she rode a horse down town and got home she was so cold she couldn’t get off her horse without help, and the reins were frozen in her fingers add they had to be pried out. It was so bitter cold that the family always said that Panguitch was the coldest spot on earth and they were thinking of selling out and moving to a warmer climate.
When Mother was a girl, she and some neighbor children went swimming in a lake, she suddenly began to sink as it was very deep--having been taught to pray she began to ask the Lord for help to hold her up, She was inspired to hold her hands close to her body and as she did so her body shot up to the surface and she was saved from drowning. It might not work for others but it did for her.
In December our family decided to sell our home and move to Arizona. It was almost tragic to part with home and friends so dear, but it was done in the latter part of December when everything was so cold. A11 of their earthly goods were packed into two strong wagons. The boys walked nearly all of the way driving the livestock. At Pima they first lived in wagon boxes and sheds made of willows. Later log houses were built and the family was more comfortable. It was while here the children went to school and attended church and other organizations. April 8, 1881 being Founder’s Day in this small town of Pima---it was the date of the first families to enter this town and it was celebrated in good old fashioned way by a get-to-gather with sports and games and a big program. Now this happened in April, and on May 1st the people celebrated May Day. At this time they had a Queen and Maids and they ended the day. Sarah Moody was crowned queen and Matilda Lewis was one of the maids. These girls were all dressed in white and of coarse were the prettiest girls in town, or at least one young fellow thought so. This young man was Winifred Moody. When he first set eyes on Malinda he fell in love with her, he took her to several dances and socials, and finally took her to his home to meet his parents, by car? No, nor by buggy. She got up behind him on a horse and they went riding to his home in fine style. This May Day party was held just east of the town of Pima in a pretty spot covered with grass and so shady. It was the first May Day party ever held in the Gila Valley. and these two young people always remember when their life together first began. Malinda was fifteen years old. She was too young to be going out with boys but they didn't think so. Winifred was proud to introduce his girl friend to his Father and Mother. This romance continued for a long time as both were good singers and there wasn't too much entertainment in those days, so Malinda and her sister, Laura, joined the choir. The girls both had beautiful voices so these girls went to school that winter, sang in the choir and during this time the romance between Winifred and Malinda ripened into something stronger, and when Malinda's lover asked for her hand she gave it freely.
Now history says this Pima choir was preparing songs and music for the Latter-day Saint Conference which was to be held in Snowflake in October 1882, this being the headquarters of the Stake at that time. She and her sister were both singing in the choir and her sister, Laura, was in love with the choir leader and both she and her sister were going to make this trip and help sing and then go on to St. George and be married in the temple there.
After the Conference was over most of the choir members returned home and a number of them made the trip on to St. George. The roads weren't too good and the weather was cold and they had some worries but the trip was made safely. These couples were married and sealed in the temple for time and all eternity. Malinda was sick all the way, she had chills and fever. After they got to St. George they had to wait a week before Malinda was able to go through the temple.
Now our parents are back in the Gila Valley, and the next thing was to build a home. They built a little shack on his homestead. Winifred had taken up some land and the job now was to clear it and get it ready for farming; there was a little spring of water about 100 yards from the shack. Grandfather Moody had died about three years before and left father 20 acres of land as his part of the family estate:
During these years three children had blessed the home of this couple and Winfred was trying hard to get his land in condition to make a living on it. One day while he was at work down below the house a neighbor came riding up on his horse with only a loop on it's nose, he was bareheaded and riding on a high lope. He told mother she had better get out of here quick, saying the Indians are coming, and they are just over the hill.
Mother said, "how can I get out of here with these two babies?" He said, "I don't know but you had better hurry; they have just killed a man in Bear Spring Flat about 15 miles from here." Mother said if they were chasing him on a horse how could she get out with two babies and another one coming and expect to stay alive for long? Mother went into the shack and hid under the bed; the little boys began to cry for water and she herself could spit cotton she was so thirsty. And in the afternoon late here came a dust storm and it took the roof off the shack and she was looking for Indians all this time, but none came, but. as it neared sundown she could see Indians silhouetted on the crest of the hill or raises above the shack. It turned out to be "Ooses' (A cactus) and their feathery flowers looked so much like Indian feathers that she was fooled.
Father had been late getting home that night and found his family in a state of confusion, as the storm blew off timbers which hit little Winnie and hurt him badly, and they were all thirsty and afraid to go for water. They were very glad when father came home to share their troubles. It was learned later that Brother Frank Thurston had been killed out in the Bare Springs Flat about 15 miles away.
Mother had three boys then a little girl and after they began to grow bigger, father took the two older boys to help him and the two younger children were left at home to help mother; these were Ed and Ida. They helped in the house and did chores, each helping the other with outside work and house work. Ed Moody said he got up early one morning and saw a wild cat taking their only chicken from the coop, with Old Tom, the dog, right after it. "Well," he said "that night I waited until late to get the fire wood in for the night, and as I carried it around the corner of the coop, Sam was there playing a trick on me, and as I rounded that corner he jumped out on all fours and yelled B00 at me. I thought it was the wild cat so I dropped the wood right on him and ran for the house and under the bed I went screaming bloody murder." mother was disgusted trying to find out what the trouble was. Sam came in bawling, saying Ed had dumped a whole armload of wood on top of him, and he didn't like it. Soon mother sew the funny tide of it and advised him not to scare his little brother like that any more, and not act like a wild cat again.
Mother had a little girl named Eunice and a boy named Johnnie, these two were both taken from us. When our little Jonnie died, father was somewhere between home and Globe, on the freight road. Mother sent him word by the stage line He got the word at San Carlos in the evening. That night he rode a mule about 45 to 50 miles home. He didn't dare to stay on the road as it was very dangerous while the Indians were roving over the country. He took to the brush lands and over trackless wastes, but it was the safest way home, getting here in time to take over the responsibility of funeral and burial of our precious baby.
Dad was on the freight road a long time, and one time the renegade Indians had left the reservation and were doing all the damage they could, mother was at home alone with us small children and was always nervous and upset, always afraid the Indians might come and kill us a11, one night she got up out of bed after midnight took us children barefooted and started for grandmother’s home more than a mile away. She too, was afraid to travel the road but took to the brushes as others did, and when she got to where the music hall now stands, on the College grounds in Thatcher, she encountered a bed of rattle snakes. It seemed there was a thousand of them, but suppose there were only about a dozen, anyway, even one of them would have been terrible that time of night or morning, and so dark. Mother like a real mother, said a prayer, asking for help from on High, and got it. She took the baby in her arms and told the other children to walk behind her (She told her little children to walk in her footsteps and not anywhere else) and she walked through that infested spot in safety, reaching her mother's home which was just south of the Thatcher church house. Of course mother aroused the family, and Grandmother was scared when she saw mother looking so white and nervous. She told her the story and they were soon safe and resting. One of the great lessons mother taught us was to pray whenever we needed help--and here is another great lesson, besides praying when we need help is to pray always and thank the Lord every day for all our blessings--then when we need help we have a little bank account to draw from. If we only pray when we want something we are very poor children indeed.
We, mother's children marvel at the accomplishments of our little mother. If anybody was in need mother was there if she knew about it. Millard Preston, when his mother died said my mother went there and did sewing for him and his brothers and sisters. She made pants, shirts, and dresses and helped them a lot, and then helped the Carlson children when their mother died. Andy was just a little fellow, and he started down the road, mother asked him where he was going. "Oh," he said, "I am going down the road to see what I can see." Mother said "Then see if you can see it." She was always seeing the humorous side and she said it always helps to bear your burdens.
In the year 1904, father and Sam started freighting from Naco and Cannoneia in Mexico. Winnie got work in Clifton and that left me to run the farm. Dad had put in 20 acres of hay and some grain. It only got about a foot high when the drought hit it and it dried up, but lots of feed there. One day as the log wood burning train came rumbling through, some sparks from the engine settled in the dry pasture and set it on fire and burned the whole field. Mother and I were up town and we saw the big smoke, later saw it was our field on fire and we were just heartsick, but the railroad never gave us a penny for our loss.
Mother had to be farmer and handy man in every way, and those wash days--mother had to draw water from a 40 foot well, heat it over a wood fire, then wash, scrub, and boil the clothes: Such a job, scrub on a washboard with home made soap. We had an old washer that turned a wheel back and forth--but it was so hard to keep it going, back and forth, over and over again and how I grumbled and fussed because I had to do the work. I was so ornery and griped so much. I knew mother would rather have done it herself, but it was us kids who needed the work and the responsibility. Oh, if mother could have lived to enjoy some of the modern help we have today; we should be more appreciative of our parents and what they did for us.
On the morning of July 28,1903, mother was very sick and I was sent to get the Elders. When I got back I was met at the bedroom door by a Relief Society sister and she said ."Ed you will have to hurry, your mother has been waiting for you and she can’t hold out much longer. So I rushed in and kneeled by her bed but was too full I could say nothing. She put her hand on my knee and said, "Ed, you have always been a good boy to me," then her hand dropped and she was gone. She had already said goodbye to the other children and was oily waiting for me to come so she could go, for she was called home. And in those few seconds there flashed through my mind a thousand ways in which I had been unkind. I went out on the porch and there was my five year old sister with her three year old brother in her arms and both sobbing their little hearts out. So I took them both in my arms and resolved to be a good brother and help Dad all I could as he had a great responsibility, now more than ever. I have seen and heard of motherless children but you never realize what it is to be without a mother until you loose your own. And the dear little helpless babies. After the funeral was over and we went back home, everything seemed so strange. Couldn't help but feel that mother would come walking through the door; and I'm sure she was worrying about us and the dear little babe who needed her care so badly. Surely she lingered close by, and was with us, guiding us from pitfalls as best we would listen to her influence. The little babe didn't have the best of care, we didn't know anything about baby formulas, sanitation, and sterilized bottles and baby care. Ida did the best she could at caring for the baby, but it didn't do very well and finally Aunt Keturah came from Mexico and took over the care of this precious little bundle of humanity. She did a good part by it. I still think it was Mother's spirit urging our Aunt to come and care for this our dear baby sister: And so time went on and we had to adjust ourselves to a new kind of life.
Of course in mother's life, she couldn't have accomplished so much without the help of poor old Dad; with all the sorrows and tragedies they went through, we could hear Mother sing and see her sweet smile. How they managed her children will never know. Take me for instance, when I was three years old I got a butcher knife from the table--mother called me but instead of stopping I ran faster and fell on the back doorstep. The knife ran into my left temple cutting a great gash and it bled profusely. Mother didn't know how to stop it, so she tried ashes then flour, but with the help of Sister Barney and several hours work it was finally stopped. I had lost a lot of blood.
When I was about five years old my brothers, Winnie and Sam, were going over to our neighbors, the Price’s, to return some borrowed matches. Cousin Arthur went with them and I bawled to go, so I went and after returning the matches we all went up to see grandmother. As we started home, a man by the name of Swanger came along offering us a rides. They all climbed in but me and the man said, "Are you all in?" Someone said "Yes". So he started out and I was climbing on the wheel and the wagon ran over me. I was carried home with a broken hip. Doctor Grosebeck set it and as there was no plaster to be had for a cast, I was wrapped in a sheet and someone had to stay by me for thirty days and nights to keep me quiet while my hip healed.
Once we had smallpox and scarlet fever and had to be quarantined, still my parents found time to help their neighbors five miles away. Once mother went to Central to wait on the sick and Dad. was to come take her home. She got tired waiting and walked home through a thicket of battomoney where the hobos were very bad; father was just starting after her when she came walking in.
Ed said: "Mother taught me this little poem,
as I was always asking when my birthday was, and how old I would be:
I will be four years old the 16th of September and
Mother will make me a cake if I can remember.
And told me if I would tell you today
With little cousin Arthur I might go and play.
1 love my grandma and like to get her wood,
She always tells me thank you mum, and gives me some food.
RECEPTION HONORING WINIFRED MOODY AND HIS BRIDE MALINDA LEWIS:
(This should have been given on the first page but was missed)
After our parents returned from St: George when they were married, their folks at home gave them a lovely reception, in fact, it was the very first one ever given in the Gila Valley. A great crowd of relatives and friends gathered to wish them well and to enjoy the evening of fun. They danced, had singing and speech making, songs like "The Little Brown Church in the Vale", "The Old Oaken Bucket"~ "Juanita", and many of the old lovely ballads were sung; and Stump Speeches were the order of the day: Ida says: "At this party her parents received many 1ovely and useful gifts. Grandfather Moody gave them a credit card for $100. on the store, I remember two large pictures which hung on the walls; one especially was a picture of the Niagara Falls; don't remember who gave it to them.
Along with all their trials they had to endure, mother tells of going to plays and theaters. An outstanding one was "Ten Nights in a Bar Room", and many others, famous at that time. They had many dances, quiltings, candy pullings, and hay rack rides, nearly all their fun was combined with work of some kind.
Mother was a student of a nursing class held in Thatcher, it was sponsored by the Mormon Church, the St. Joseph Stake, directing the work here. Our mother joined this class and continued the studies until she completed the course and received her diploma. She was a big help among her friends and neighbors, always ready to help the sick and it seemed there was always plenty of sickness at that time. Rulon was the baby then and Ida was the baby tender, she would take him back home until mother returned.
HERE ARE SOME MORE COMMENTS FROM THE LITTLE SISTER JUNE
"I remember my sister Ida took care of us children when mother was away helping the sick. When Winnie was down with typhoid fever, so awfully sick, Mother sent me to stay with Aunt Susie Claridge, with my grandmother Moody. I watched her put my clothes away in a drawer. I got so homesick that once when every one was away I took out my clothes and walked home, it was dusk when I got there. I must have been about five years old and walked a mile to my home. Mother didn't scold me she just put her arms around me and loved me. I was a home girl and I tell you home sickness is the worst sickness there is. I remember when Winnie was sick they gave him Eagle Brand milk, it is so sweet arid good. Once I said; "Mother I wish I was sick so I could have some of that milk." Mother said, "Dear, you don't have to get sick to get some of that milk, so she gave me some. Mother had a beautiful alpaca dress--long sleeves, skirt and high neck. She wore it to church--she was a good seamstress; very tidy and proud. She held her head high and she had beautiful hands.
She was very kind and gentle. Our cousin, Arthur Lewis, stayed with us a lot even until my mother died. Later
he went to Mexico and lived with Aunt Keturah Baker. When mother was so sick they took Rulon and me to Aunt Lula’s and we were not home when mother passed away. I can never forget the terrible loss I felt. I used to cry myself to sleep and have bad dreams. When it would thunder and rain I would think about her up there in that big hole and I was afraid she would get cold. I would go to other homes and see the girls with mothers and feel so bad because I didn't have one. Although father was so good to us and he took mother's place and did the best he could; not even he, could take mother's place. Later I realized how he missed her also. We stayed with grandma Moody for sometime after mother left us, then we settled down at home. I was 11 years old and
Glenna was 13. She did the washing and ironing while I did the cooking. We had to bake bread and it was a hard job for girls so young. We did a lot of singing at home, father would chord on the old organ and we sang the different parts. He used to play "0 My Father". After mother passed away I couldn't stand to hear that sung and I tore the page out of the hymn book. They practiced it one Sunday in Sunday School and I got to crying and had to leave. Elizabeth Pace saw me leave and came and talked to me until I got control of myself:
Glenna did our sewing, she made us both clothes just alike and people sometimes thought we were twins.
CONCLUSION:
Winifred Moody was president of the High Priests Quorum of the St. Joseph Stake, and Brother Cheney was one of his counselors, well, Brother Cheney died and of course he had to go to the funeral. He didn't tell mother because he didn't want to worry her, but we children knew about it. About 2:00 p.m. mother went into a coma--father was sent for and when he returned she felt better so he told her where he had been. "Yes," she told him, "I knew where you were, I was there also and I saw several people there who have been gone over there a long time." Then she told him the names of the speakers and the songs they sang, for she saw and heard the whole thing--the entire funeral service. To me this was a great testimony that there is a great Hereafter, and that our loved ones are often allowed to visit us here.
Quote from Ida's story: "The next day I was alone in the house and mother called me to her bedside and said, "Ida I must go and leave all of you soon, and you will have to take over the responsibility of being a mother to your brothers and sisters, expecia11y to the little baby:" I became frightened and ran out into the orchard and prayed for someone to come to help us. Soon Aunt Lizzie was at the door. She said, "How is your mother?" I have the Relief Society sisters at my house quilting and had dinner ready to serve and a voice said to me to 'Go to Malidna' I said to myself that I would go as soon as t got the dinner over with. Again the voice said, 'Go to Malinda.’ I asked one of the ladies to serve dinner and here I am." I never waited to hear more, I ran to the orchard and thanked my Heavenly Father for answering my prayer and this is a wonderful testimony to me that the Lord hears and answers PRAYER.
Quote from Ed: Anyway we all grew up, married and made homes of our
own and raised our families as best
we knew how. Perhaps we have regrets for things we left undone through the years
and perhaps we did things
we shouldn't have done, but such is life.
Trough the teachings of our dear parents, we have tried hard to bring up our children so that our parents behind the veil will be proud of their grandchildren, who have been taught to be noble and honorable.
Now we are getting older than our mother was when she passed on, I was fourteen years old when mother died; just knew her that long. I wish I could put love and honor into my children as mother did with hers. It is hard to realize that mother accomplished so much in such a short life. Today her little babe she left is sixty two years old; a lovely woman. It won't be long now until we will all be with mother and father again in a family group "Over There". I am seventy eight now and I hope I am ready to go home when my call comes.
Thatcher Arizona--Edward Moody, approaching his 90th birthday, and his 88-year-old sister, Ida Ernstenson, of Salt Lake City, Utah, will be the eldest of a group of seven members of a local family with surprising longevity, who will attend an annual pioneers' reunion in Phoenix in April.
Moody, whose family for three generations qualified for homesteads in the Thatcher area, is president for the second year, of what is called the Pioneers Reunion, which is sponsored by the Arizona Republic and is now in its 52nd year.
The prerequisites of membership are simple. The club is an exclusive one, limited to those who were either born in Arizona before December 31, 1890, or moved here before that date. At 89, going on 90, Thatcher's Moody is still not the reunion group's senior member. The membership started out at over the 1,000 rnark, in the early years. It has diminished considerably since then, but there are still a few in the ranks who are on the top side of 100, according to Moody and Mrs. Ernstenson.
Mrs. Ernestenson, has for some time made the trip here from Utah to be able to take part in the Phoenix reunion. Seven of the Moody family members, all of them well up in their years, pioneers of the Thatcher area, will be on hand this year. They are expected to be one of the largest single-family delegations at the annual event.
Grandparents on both sides of the family, the John Monroe Moody, and Samuel Lewis families, were among the Valley area's earliest settlers, each qualifying for 320-acre homesteads, whose limits if marked off now, would embrace much of the town of Thatcher. In addition the parents, the Francis Moody Family homesteaded in what is known now as the Palmer Lane area. Moody himself secured a smaller tract of about 160 acres, in the Cork area as a young man.
Moody is the oldest resident of Thatcher, who was born there. He will mark his 90th birthday on September 16, and enjoys a degree of community veneration for his status as an aging descendent of a true pioneer family.
Moody and others of his family have been attending the pioneer’s reunion at Phoenix for a number of years. He served as vice president of the group for two years, advanced to the presidency, and has assumed an extra term for a fellow pioneer whose failing health has made It impossible for him to handle the office.
The reunion this year will be held at the Lazy RRG Ranch at 4747 E. Indian School Road, on April 10. A program is set for 11:00 a.m. and will be followed by a barbecue.
The Phoenix Daily has hosted the event since 1922, when more than 3,000 persons attended. The passing of time has cut into the ranks of eligible pioneers, but the annual turnout is still surprisingly large, according to Moody.
THATCHER STYLE LOVE STORY
When Hazel first spotted Ed near the Thatcher Post Office, he looked the part of a bold bandit with a large handkerchief covering his mouth and chin (a bucking horse had thrown him and kicked him in the mouth). Anyway she could see his eyes and thought them the most beautiful ever.
And as for Ed, he was captivated by what he saw, a lovely and lively lass fresh from St. Johns country where her affluent family, the John Patterson, owned sawmills and a hotel. She was in Thatcher to visit her sister Lulu Patterson Jones at the time she and Ed first crossed paths.
Following an exchange of glances was a later introduction, which led to dates and dances in the Amusement Hall (basement of the Thatcher LDS Church) and on and on. Since Thatcher was the land of Ed's September 16, 1886 birth, he knew the community's every nook and cranny, so he happily showed Hazel his birthplace, where his parents, the Winifred Moodys, later lived, the large land holdings acquired in 1881 by his grandfather, James Monroe Moody, who served the Thatcher LDS Ward as its first (1883) bishop, where he first attended school in Allred Hall under teacher, Mamie McRae.
While staying in Thatcher, Hazel worked briefly in Thorpe's Safford restaurant and also in the Solomon Hotel. On returning his ladylove to the hotel after a dance, Ed became aware Hazel was living in a tiny and lockless room. So right then and there, he concluded her Solomonville service.
Following the Thatcher death of her sister, Lulu, Hazel's parents returned her to St. Johns where she and Ed celebrated the 1909 Fourth of July celebration. Ed had reached the northern Arizona community by riding horseback to San Carlos, Ft. Apache and then on to his destination. His return route to Thatcher was via the old military road that entered the Gila Valley near Calva.
While Ed and Hazel were together in St. Johns, they reached the decision, which led to their October 7, 1909 marriage in the Salt Lake City Temple. In company of a chaperon train made the trip to the Utah capital from Holbrook. During the course of the return trip the delicious joy of the newlyweds was marred by the despicable actions of an accompanying newlywed couple who used their friendship to borrow nearly all the money Ed and Hazel possessed.
"We will pay you back," promised the so-called friends, "soon as we arrive in St. Johns." But Ed remembers this was not the case.
"Hazel and I drove my wagon from Holbrook with the supplies--and--traveled by horse and buggy. As we neared St. Johns our friends drove well ahead of us (and we last saw them as they topped a hill. When Hazel and I finally reached St. Johns we searched for our friends but could find no trace of them, so we headed for Thatcher with but a few dollars in our pocket. Many years later Hazel and I accidentally encountered our former friends but they claimed they didn't know us and had never heard of us."
Still further troubles found Ed and Hazel in Nutrioso, where one of their wagon wheels broke, an accident that necessitated a trade for an inferior one. At this point, the newlyweds joined Thatcher friends Ella and Charley Hendricks in the homeward trip down the Blue River. To help pass time during this tedious journey, Hazel counted 365 river crossings before tiring of the count.
By this time the Moody-Hendricks party reached the toll-road station between Clifton and Solomonville, Ed had but fifty cents in his pocket. And this amount dwindled to a thin dime after paying 10 cents for a wagon passage,
20 cents for his team's passage, 10 cents for a moldy loaf of bread: So Ed and Hazel reached their Thatcher destination without money but with high hopes for their future. After all, they were deeply in love and they had each other.
For a time the newlyweds lived in the Thatcher home of Ed's grandmother, Elizabeth Moody, and it was during his marriage year that Ed unsuccessfully attempted to file on Cork area land. Retaining his interest in this area,
Ed and Hazel in 1914 acquired a 160 acre tract of farmland from Mrs. Rile. The Cork move was made in company with four year old Zella (who was later killed in a car accident) and tiny daughter, Gwen.
Life on "The Flat" soon proved to be bitter hard and most difficult for Ed and Hazel to cope with. The Moodys' lean-to-shack was anything but pretentious, especially to Hazel who was accustomed to a genteel way of life. The land was far from being developed and the heat of summer and the cold of winter was difficult to cope with items such as milk and butter were placed in a bucket and lowered into the well for cooling. Even to this day; according to Ed, Hazel says "Thank you, Lord" when she turns on the kitchen faucet.
But, again, Hazel and Ed were in love and they had each other--and eventually a total of five children. While in the York area, the Moody's enmeshed themselves in LDS Church activities and played leading roles in the 1915 formation of the Redlands Ward. And as a Shiloh school board member, Hazel was a dominant force in the 1915 erection of the grand and still standing Redlands school house.
Along life's way, adventuresome Ed, in partnership with Bill Moody and Andy Carlson, took a fling at raising Angora goats under the eastern slopes of the Santa Teresa Mountains. A 1919 goat fever attack laid Ed low and this ended another chapter in his busy life. And twice Ed plunged into the dairy business with a gusto. During the depression years of 1931-32, he and his family and son-in-taw (later Dr. Huston Hinton) milked some 23 cows about where Keith Smith's present Thatcher home stands. This operation, in time became known as the "the Singing Dairy" as the milkers made a practice of singing as they labored. A half-gallon of delivered milk, Ed recalls, sold for about 25 cents.
During a portion of World War II Ed and Hazel operated a Fort Thomas dairy on a much larger scale, milking some 100 Guernsey cows. Working an average of 18 hours a day. Ed milked and fed cows and daily shipped three to four hundred gallons of milk to Globe. Payment for the milk was 33 cents per gallon.
During 1944 the Moody's disposed of their dairy holdings and moved to Thatcher to make their home. Their present residence was erected in 1951. Ed retained active management of his showplace farm until it was sold several years back.
Always active and faithful participants in their Church's various activities, Ed and Hazel too, have been deeply involved in historical. matters. Twice Ed has served the Arizona Pioneers Society as its president and has also served this organization as its Vice-President. His excellent collection of historical flags gives evidence of his love of country:
Those persons who best know Ed are aware that this grand gentleman possesses many talents--with proper education he could have become a skilled doctor (his longtime beliefs regarding wheat germ, raw milk, etc. have only lately been generally accepted)--his fantastic ability to recall lots, townships and other land divisions, is amazing.
Hazel's health, during recent years, as been troublesome She will be 85 this coming July 25,but still retains her sweet smile: And as for Ed, he is still chock full of precious humor and wonderful stories. Best part of the Ed/Hazel saga by far is the fact these two precious pioneers are still in love: even as when their hearts were young and gay and Ed wore a white handkerchief... and yes, Ed and his sweetheart are still holding hands.