Finding Brigham City

When I was a teenager living in Southern Alberta, I was given a copy of my great grandmother Nannie Emeila Anderson's story. Over the years I have read and re-read these 13 pages many times, always knowing that some day I would see the places she described and walk in her "footsteps". I would imagine the Andersons in the desert when the Navajo or Hopi would approched looking for food, or building 1 and 2 roomed houses again and again as they moved from one place to another looking for a better life for their children. This courageous couple sailed from Sweden and Denmark to the Americas then overland to Utah as children. As young adults they married then homesteaded in Utah, Arizona, Idaho and eventually ended up in Raymond, Alberta, Canada. They worked hard even as young children, and learned skills that would later help them to survive the wilderness. The Anderson's along with a their 12 children, and many other families just like them, paved the way for us who follow in their footsteps. Including me. Friends often comment on my worldly travels, well... I guess I came by my wanderlust honestly from my not to distant ancestors.

When my friend Peggy asked if I was interested in going on a road trip to southern Utah and Arizona, I jumped at this long awaited opportunity. After the Antelpoe Canyon tour and Horseshoe Canyon hike in the morning, the drive from Page, AZ, and "doing" the Grand Canyon in one afternoon, we headed south toward Flagstaff at dusk. I was tired and ready to give up going to Brigham City, now known as Winslow Arizona. It was another 50 miles to the east on I-40 to find Brigham City, but that darn Eagles song kept running through my head. I was standin' on a corner in Winslow Arizona... It was getting late, and Peggy said she was still OK to drive, so we kept on driving in the dark to Winslow.

Early the next morning we asked around and checked maps with some locals in a coffee shop, but we didn't have much luck in getting directions to Brigham City. As a matter of fact all of the people we talked to hadn't even heard of Brigham City. How discouraging was that! However,and quite by chance, when we WERE "Standin' on the corner in Winslow Arizona" chit chatting with a handsome dude on a bike, using his camera to take a picture by the Eagles statue to show his family, we stopped a woman who was taking her dog for an early morning walk. She gave us the first good clue ... apparently there was a "plaque" she had seen while walking her dog. This plaque had been placed in a spot north of town and she gave us general directions. When we got to the general area, we noted that I-40 had been constructed almost on top the older local roads, and with the lights and intersecions, it became confusing to me. But it was mostly thanks to Peggy's determination of driving the night before, and going down one more road on the outskirts of town, that we found the Brigham City site. Thanks Friend, it means a lot!
















Here is some of what Nannie wrote about her journey.


Nannie Anderson Peter Anderson

Then the call came from the leaders of the church for the settlers to go to Arizona. We were among those called. It was a sad parting for me to leave my father, mother and dear ones to go and pioneer a new country. I was young and our baby was just a little over a year old. We left on February 11, 1876. We left in the middle of winter so that we could reach there in time to plant crops. We were three months on the way. I can recall only part of the names of the company. Our captain’s name was Ballanger. In addition there were Charles Witting and his brother, Mr. Hoit, Rastus Wakefield, Mr. And Mrs. Perry, Mr. Isaacson, Mr. and Mrs. Aaron Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, as well as several others whose names I do not remember.

Our traveling outfit consisted of two wagons, one trailed behind the other, and two teams. One wagon was made into a sort of a camp with a small stove and quite comfortable bed, the other was loaded with seed grain, potatoes and provisions. When we were near the boundary line of Arizona the roads became very heavy because of the amount of snow. Some of the men had to go ahead and break trail for the teams. Some days we traveled only one mile and finally we had to leave one of our wagons by the roadside. Of course it had to be the one with the stove and bed in it. Also we had to leave some of our provisions. The remainder of the trip we had to sleep on top of our load and cook over the open campfire. I often wondered how little Amelia stood the trip because at night when I put her to bed her feet were so very cold from being on the cold ground. Traveling without our wagon with the stove and bed we surely had a hard journey. We arrived at our destination at the end or April 1876. It was a desolate looking place. There were only a few women in the company as most of the men came to look at the country first before bringing their families out to a new place.

My husband went back to get the wagon we had left, but found someone had taken everything that was in it. When he returned with it we put the box on the ground and this was our bedroom. We gathered some rushes and put them in a tick. We had a very hard bed with this mattress and only boards for springs. We built a little yellow shanty for our kitchen and cooked over the campfire.

At times I became very homesick and longed for my mother and dear ones at home. My husband was not much of a man to stay at home with us in the evenings. He usually went to some of the other camps and talked with the men. Night after night I would take little Amelia and go to bed and cry myself to sleep. I was not feeling very well as we were expecting another baby in a few months. I worried a lot about it because I know that I would have to go through it with just the assistance of my neighbour and keep my trust in my Heavenly Father.

The people were planning a pioneer celebration on the twenty-fourth of July. My neighbour said she was going to see that I got out to this celebration for I had been staying close to home. When the day came I celebrated all right – a fine son was born to us, and as a consequence broke up the party. He was the first baby born in the camp. We named him Lewis Le Roy.

Our little settlement was called Brigham City. It was built on the banks of the Little Colorado River. During the summer the men built a dam across the river so that they could irrigate their land, but the high water washed it out. They built a second one, but it too was washed out, so the crops were a total failure. A wagon load of provisions was sent out to us by the church. The wagon had to cross the Big Colorado River on a ferry. While making this part of the journey the wagon tipped off. One man, bishop Roundy was drowned. Daniel H. Wells, the man who performed our marriage ceremony was one of the men who continued the journey. We were certainly glad to see them, even if our provisions were lost. They encouraged us to live the gospel and try to be contented and make permanent homes. We felt much better after their visit although the outlook for the winter was anything but promising. Our food was getting low, our crops had perished, and there were no paying jobs. Flour was twenty dollars per hundred pounds and the other things were in proportion. With no money to buy anything the majority of the company thought it advisable to leave there, for the present at least. I didn’t want to go, for I felt we had been called to settle that country, by the leaders of our church, and we ought to stay.

I dreamed a number of times of going back home and of being shunned to our families and friends, but on our return we found them glad to see us, and they welcomed us back.

The remains of Brigham City, maintained by the city of Winslow.