Orson Merit Porter

I was four years old when my Grandpa, Orson Merit Porter, died.  I was alone with him on the farm when it happened.  Everyone else, except my Dad who was at another farm irrigating, had gone to town to sell cream to the creamery and then use the money to buy groceries and go to a movie.

As evening came, Grandpa was milking the cows, and I was playing.  I was "riding a horse" by having a 42 gallon barrel on its side and rocking it back and forth.  As I rode the barrel, Grandpa finished the milking and went into the separator building to separate the cream from milk.  

It was really a dark night by then, but I heard the separator change sounds when Grandpa flipped the brake on to shut off the separator.  I ran to the separator building to meet Grandpa and help him carry milk and cream to the house, but he wasn't there, and he didn't answer my calling, so I went into the blacksmith shop which shared a wall with the separator building.  There I found Grandpa kneeling at a bench like he was praying.

This wasn't unusual because Grandpa was the Bishop of the Otto Ward for a number of years, and he prayed a lot.

He didn't quit praying, so I decided he went to sleep praying.  I tried to wake him up but was unsuccessful, so I got on the bench and tried lifting his head, but he still didn't wake up.  Finally, I heard hoof beats on the road that went by our place, and I knew it was my Dad coming back from the other farm.  I ran out to meet him.

When Dad got close, I yelled, "Grandpa is praying at the shop bench, but he went to sleep, and I can't wake him".  I expected my Dad to reach down and pull me up on the horse with him, but instead, he just kicked the horse into a gallop and went right by me and stopped at the shop.  I turned around and started running to the shop.  Before I got there, some car lights could be seen coming up the road.   My Dad got on the horse and galloped right by me again.  He went to the road and stopped the car.  Before I got to the road, Dad and the car went by me to the shop.  By the time I got to the shop, Dad and two men were carrying Grandpa out of the shop.

I followed them as they carried Grandpa to the house and laid him on a bed.  Then my Dad told me Grandpa had died!  That was the 8th of May, 1935.

Not long ater Grandpa Porter died, Grandma Porter moved off the farm to Lovell, Wyoming.  In Lovell, she had two married daughters, Winifred Harris and Valeria Walker.

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