In 1915 Phoebe still possessed her homestead rights and decided to use them in behalf of her daughter Sylvia and her husband, Edwin Rice. She left her home in Cedron, Idaho and the accumulations of a lifetime, except her bedding, dishes and personal belongings. These she took with her in June 1915 as she embarked, at the age of 69, on yet another pioneering venture with her daughter and son-in-law. The intended homestead site was twenty miles past St. Anthony, Idaho on the grassy ridge prairie five miles beyond the Juniper hills west of Parker, Idaho. Her personal belongings were contained in a wooden chest Richard had made for her. Her granddaughter, Ruth Rice, accompanied her parents and grandmother on that trip from Cedron to St. Anthony. Ruth was 17 and remembers how her grandmother wore a sunbonnet and gave her one to wear.

It took two and one-half days by wagon to reach the dry farms on Grassy Ridge. The roads were little more than trails winding through the lava rock from Parker on. It was dusty and hot and rough, but Phoebe seemed to enjoy the adventure. There was a shack about 12 feet x 16 feet and a couple tents for the family to live in. These were located up on a hill where the winds hit them full force. Despite these primitive conditions, Phoebe seemed to enjoy herself and the Rices most definitely enjoyed her.

She was there at the dry farm homestead about a month when she had an acute attack of pluresy and was in such terrible pain that they dared not move her over the rough roads for medical attention. Instead, they brought Dr. Morefield to her, but he was unable to help her. Pluresy affected her heart and she died July 9, 1915. She, who had been born on the flats of the Mississippi River across from Nauvoo, Illinois as a premature twin to a refugee mother fleeing anti-Mormon mobs, died in a tent on a windswept prairie of an Idaho dry farm.

When her youngest son Merritt and his brother Asa heard the news of her illness they went in a white top buggy to see her. They returned home quite late that night. Merritt had just gone to bed when he heard the front door open. He arose from his bed, somehow knowing that his mother had passed away. When he checked with Edwin and Sylvia later, they confirmed that she had died that same hour. Merritt felt like his mother’s spirit had stopped at her old home on its journey heavenward.

Edwin and Sylvia Rice took Phoebe’s body on the long, rough rode to Hansen’s funeral home in St. Anthony. From there she was taken to Victor, Idaho and laid to rest by Richard. She was a pioneer all her life, but she endeavored to make life pleasant and comfortable for others around her. Her descendants have much to live up to if they would be like her.