I grew up idolizing my Mormon pioneer ancestry. My great-great-great grandfather, directly along my father's father's father's line, was Freeborn DeMill. His was the pioneer ancestor name I remembered first. He was married to Anna Knight - daughter of THE Joseph Knight Sr, whose wagon was "borrowed" by Joseph Smith Jr when he went to retrieve the golden plates from the hill Cumorah, with his wife Emma.
Freeborn DeMill. He was the one I remembered first.
I remember a church history tour in my youth, when the family had trekked, via Suburban, back to Nauvoo Illinois. I remember making one stop along the journey at some site - don't remember what - and that my father had read some information about Freeborn - I also don't remember what. But it was important because my family STILL had information about him, and he was important enough to read about on our trip.
At the regular Knight family reunions, our family proudly sat in tables marked for "Anna Knight's" descendants. So while we never had the last name "Smith" or "Hinckley" or "McConkie," we were DeMills, and they had SOME place in Mormon history.
Freeborn journeyed with the saints and settled in Sanpete County, like most of my pioneer ancestors. When he was in his 60's, he married a 15-year-old girl, polygamously, and had two children with her. This was something that the family rolled their eyes at, quietly admitting that yeah, Grandpa Freeborn was wrong about that, but it was never something talked about at length. Anna, his first wife, wasn't mentioned in the conversations. Her part in the story was not considered. Instead, we remembered Freeborn, and how he was our own family's namesake - the "DeMill" in the pioneer legacy, and we were proud of him.
We remembered the Allreds, another famous pioneer name.
Orson Allred's face was one I remembered easily. His mustache was defining, and he looked a little like Jude Law playing John Watson. There were multiple wives there, too. I never bothered to remember their names.
Is it odd that I didn't bother to remember any of the women from my family history? I knew the names of my living grandmothers, obviously, but never any of the names of my female ancestors. Because in the culture of my upbringing, the women were not as noteworthy. They were not as important. They didn't have special callings, prestige of any sort, or any kind of "authority" or "ownership" of anything that would make them special.
I don't know any of their stories. But something tells me that many of their stories would make me quite sad. I'm not sure there's a way to be a polygamist wife without tremendous heartache.
As I've grown older, and as I've studied polygamy, I've become less enamored regarding the history of the church of my youth, and I've found myself longing for the story of the women who were so long forgotten. I've longed to know who my MOTHERS are. I long to find ancestors that I want to emulate, for ME. Because I believe that women are worth it, and that they are just as important as the men.
So I looked to my mother's line, and I found women of strength, boldness, and power.
They were women who had also experienced hardships, but they perservered, and their stories were remembered.
Ironically, my great-great-great grandmother along my mother's mother's mother's line, the exact opposite of the Freeborn DeMill I rememered so well in my youth, was Elizabeth Ann Tremayne Higgans.
Elizabeth had 18 children. She lived to be over 100 years old, and had her picture in the paper to celebrate her birthday. (As seen above.) She was a Jewish woman who was modest, and upon her death, had told her children she didn't want any big fussy thing on her grave. But as she had so many children and was so beloved, of course, they bought a massive tombstone. The very night it was installed, a bolt of lightening struck that tombstone, and set it crooked ever since.
On my mother's line, the women were epic. Elizabeth Ann Tremayne was so powerful that even after her death, she still managed to send lightening down to express her displeasure at not being listened to.
The mothers in my family are forces of nature.
They are the women I want to emulate. They are the women who seize life for themselves, and make demands, and have expectations. Are they all perfect, with no weaknesses or mistakes? No. But I have their stories, at least, and their strength inspires me. Their ability to "stick around," even after death, impresses me. Their smiles give me hope. Their personalities are unashamedly their own. And they are everything I want to be.
