My Father, George Washington Sevey, had three wives: Phoebe Melinda Butler, Margaret Nebraska Imlay, and Martha Ann Thomas. He had a ranch at Panguitch Lake, Garfield County, Utah, where he took my mother, Margaret, every summer to milk cows and make butter and cheese. I was born there at Panguitch Lake on the August 26, 1878.

When I was less than a year old, I went with my parents to San Juan on the Colorado River, where they went to settle up that place&mdash’the very first people to enter San Juan. (This trip was the famous one that took the colonists into that country through the "Hole in the Rock").

Father, being bishop of Panguitch did not remain long. However, he was one of the men to pioneer that country. Mother was his second wife and I well remember when I was six years old how father was harassed continuously by the U.S. Marshals because of polygamy, and had to remain in hiding most of the time. There were many trying times those days for our parents, and many went to prison for polygamy. Some men put off their plural wives, but many would not, and rather than do so, my father took his third wife and went into Old Mexico in 1885, leaving mother in Panguitch and "Aunt" Phoebe, too.

Mother would go on the ranch every summer and make butter and cheese to sell and support herself and me, her only living child at that time. I always went out and gathered the cows, tended the calves, and helped her as I could. Times were hard for us, father being away so much. I attended school each winter and progressed quite rapidly, so that by the time I was nine I passed the 5th grade. In the fall of 1887, father returned under disguise and took us to Mexico. We arrived at Colonial Juarez on the first day of January 1888.

Again times were very hard at first while we were getting our new home started. Father built a little two room shack on the ranch and moved us up there soon after mother’s baby, Minerva, was born November 14, 1888. Father had a large herd of sheep in Utah from which he received revenue and he, being bishop in Juarez and a real pioneer, led out in community and public affairs, helping to build Juarez and other colonies.

After our first crop we never wanted for plenty of good food and clothing. It was while living in this little home that I had a real exciting experience. It was in the summer of 1889 when I was eleven years old. Father and Mother were at the corral, milking. It was about a half hour after dark and the front door was open. I was sitting in a chair about the enter of the room, facing the door, holding the baby on my lap and a boy friend, who was visiting with me, was sitting on the floor. Suddenly, the dog came pounding into the house and ran under the bed, yelping, frightened nearly to death, his hair all bristled. A large mountain lion came and put both front feet inside the door. The lights seemed to frighten him, for he remained in that position. My friend jumped up on the bed, very frightened, and I laid the baby on the bed and got my father’s old 45-70 rifle, but when I turned, the lion had gone. I held the gun on my lap until the folks came in from the corral. We told them what had happened, but they just laughed. However, the next morning the lion’s tracks were very plain in the yard, and the men tracked him into the canyon for three or four miles.

Father soon began to gather property around him and after two years he traded for a nice ranch adjoining ours to the south. This had a nice four-room house and a lovely young orchard on it and from that time on we did well and enjoyed life. Mother lived there and had two more children born to her: Phoebe, born May 22, 1891, and Leon, born April 12, 1895. In the winter of 1896-97, father took a contract on the railroad being built from El Paso, Texas, into Colonial Dublin, and took mother out there to cook for the men. It was in May 1897, that mother had to quit because she was very ill. In September, father took her to Utah where the doctor [diagnosed it as] cancer, and she died October 19, 1897 and was taken to our old hometown of Panguitch for burial.

I was ten years old when we arrived in Mexico and I worked with father on the ranch most of the time and got very little schooling. Father needed my help and schooling was not compulsory there. We lived about three miles from town and I walked to and from school some of the time and rode a horse some of the time. I only got a half-year in the eighth grade in the Juarez Stake Academy and that ended my schooling.

I helped father on the ranch, riding the range most of the time, looking after our cattle. Father had brought quite a herd of cows and together with mother’s, we had about 200 head of stock. I did considerable hunting in those early days. The deer, turkey, cougars, lions, bears, ducks, and many kinds of wild game were plentiful and father gave me a .44 caliber Winchester rifle when I was eleven years old. I soon traded for a good .45 colt six-shooter and a fine dagger, which I wore all the time when I rode out, either hunting or after cattle, and I kept the family pretty well supplied with wild game.

I became quite handy with a lariat and delighted in riding wild horses. Many of my friends would bring their broncos to me to have them ridden and I used to enjoy riding bucking horses and breaking wild horses to work in the team. One time when I was 14, two of my friends and I went hunting deer and turkey. We spied a large brown bear high up on the side of a mountain and we climbed up on the opposite side of a small ridge until we got within 50 yards of him. I shot him, the bullet passing within three inches of his heart. The beast roared until the mountain seemed to shake, and he rolled like a big ball all the way down the mountain into the canyon ravine on our side of the canyon. The brush was so thick, the only way to get through it was to crawl on our hands and knees into a small opening about four rods in diameter. There he was! Seeing us, he made ready to fight, standing up on his hind feet, his mouth wide open! Being in the lead, I fired twice, quickly, and he dropped dead. The other boys had not fired a shot. They seemed to be timid, not used to hunting as I was. Another time, a moonlight night, I killed thirteen ducks with one shot, using a double-barreled shotgun.

During the 24 years I spent in Mexico, I had many interesting experiences hunting and prospecting in the mountains.

In my younger days, I learned to swim very well and many times when the river was very high, bringing down large trees and drift wood, and boiling, I would swim out for a mile down the stream. Many times I had to ride my horse into it and make him swim the river. Sometimes the stream was so swift it would carry us hundreds of yards down the river and sometimes I’d be compelled to dismount and swim with the horse, catching the saddle horn and helping the horse to keep his feet down and his head up to keep him from drowning.

When I was sixteen, Father sent me out on the freight road with six horses and two wagons, hauling lumber from the mountains to the mines of San Pedro and merchandise from La Villa Ahumada on the Mexican Central Railroad to Colonial Juarez.

In 1896-97, I got my first introduction to railroading. I worked with father, helping to build the railroad from El Paso to Colonia Dublin. When we got through working there, father started an independent store in Colonia Juarez and put me in it to run it. I remained there until January 1, 1899, when I went with father to Colonia Chuichupa.

Chuichupa was a little town of about thirty families located in a beautiful valley in the tops of the Sierra Madre Mountains. The valley is about two miles wide and three and a half miles long, completely surrounded by stately pines and low rolling hills running back to high mountain peaks and ridges. The valley is about 7000 feet above sea level, with black alluvial soil and in the summer it is a veritable flower garden-seemingly thousands of different colors and kinds of flowers.

Father had taken a contract for building a trail from Chuichupa to the Seven Star mine in Guaynepa Canyon, a distance of 22 miles through a very rough, rugged, wild country. We established a little store in the home of J.W. Heder, and father left me there in charge of his affairs. It was there where I met and wooed Anna, the daughter of Brother Heder.

I became interested in the mines and did considerable hunting and prospecting, and it was there that I became actively engaged in religious affairs. I had always been a prayerful boy and thought a great deal of my religion, but never had taken a leading part. I had a strong testimony of the Gospel and tried to keep the commandments of God the best I could. Although I had been thrown among the roughest kind of cow camps, railroad, and mining camps, and on the freight road, I tried to keep myself clean and did not use profane language, or indulge in liquor or tobacco.

It was the second day of September 1900, that I, George Sevey, Anna Heder (my intended wife), and my sister, Mahala started for Utah to visit relatives, and to get married. We attended Conference in Salt Lake City, and on the 9th of October, we went through the temple and were sealed.

On the 15th of October, we all went to Panguitch City and remained there until the 11th of December. We returned then to Colonia Chuichupa, our home. We arrived on the 27th day of January 1901, and had a grand reception and party on the 30th. My father-in-law, my wife, and I went to Naco, Sonora, Mexico to work and spent the summer of 1901 there. While there I nearly died from typhoid fever. We returned home in December 1901, and on March 30, 1902, a daughter was born to us, whom we named Georgeana Maude.

The summer of 1902 I worked at the carpenter trade from July to November. My father died on June 22nd and was buried on the 23rd in Colonial Juarez. In 1904, I went to Tombstone, Arizona, and to Bisbee, where I worked at my trade as a carpenter for a year, my wife and family with me. We returned to Chupe (Colonia Chuichupa) in July 1905. When I returned, in July 1906, I was set apart as second counselor in the bishopric, and three years later I was set apart as first counselor to Bishop Benjamin J. Johnson. During these years, we had three more children: Francis, born April 24, 1904, Millard born August 4, 1906, and Lucille, born December 13, 1908. Our third girl was born a couple of years later, on June 25, 1911, but she died in an epidemic of diphtheria six months later.

During 1910 and 1911 I contracted on the Northwestern Railway of Mexico. I moved with my family for a short while to Colonia Dublan. Then in July of 1912, the people of Juarez Stake were counseled to leave Mexico by President Junius Romney and his counselors. Accordingly nearly all the women, children, and the aged men left by train for the port of El Paso, Texas. I was selected by the Stake presidency as one of a committee to look after the Saints. We were all placed in boxcars like cattle—some with a little bedding, some with a trunk full of belongings and some with scarcely anything at all. All the Saints were taken to the lumberyard in El Paso and there were fed by the U.S. government for about three weeks, all camping there together.

When the men were run out of Mexico by the Mexican bandits a few days after we left with the women and children, we decided that it may be some months or even years before we could return in safety, so the Saints began to disperse into various parts of the United States. It was on or about the first of September, that I moved my family to Tucson, Arizona and signed up for a piece of land (40 acres) with the Tucson Farms Co. I went to clearing the mesquite, timber and brush from the land and to carpentering for the company. While we were there, Minerva, was born on May 7, 1913.

In the early spring of 1914, we moved to the Salt River Valley near Mesa, Arizona. My brothers, George Thomas and William, and my wife’s father and myself, purchased about 160 acres of land, giving a mortgage on everything he had accumulated for money to make the first payment. That year of 1914 was a bad year. Hay went down to $7 a ton. We worked very hard but lost money and 40 acres of our land. In 1915-1916 I went to the mines at Superior, Arizona and worked at my trade of carpentry while my brother George Thomas ran the ranch. Brother Heder and William withdrew their interests and in 1916, Tom and I bought 22 head of dairy cows and went into the dairy business. Shortly after this the price of butter fat went down very low and we decided that we could not pay out our farm and cows through dairying, so we bought some brood sows and we raised a lot of pigs. Then the price of hogs dropped from 13 cents to 7 cents per pound. We sold our hogs and divided the land between Tom and me. In the meantime, we had purchased more cows so at the time of division we each had a nice herd. Tom sold his cows and ranch and moved his family back to Colonia Chuichupa, Mexico, where he went into the sawmill business.

From 1917 to 1921, the farming grew from bad to worse until in 1922, I went to Los Angeles to work at my trade as carpenter. Being very heavily involved in the ranch, I sold the balance of my interests there and in May 1923 I moved my family to Los Angeles. While we were in Gilbert, Arizona (near Mesa), we were blessed with four more children: Charles Junius, born August 11, 1915; Minnie Eileen, born August 2, 1917; Margaret, born September 19, 1919; and Phyllis, born September 2, 1921.

I did several things in the next few years trying to support my family. In June 1925, our youngest child, Ruth, was born. A year later I moved my family to Bowie, Arizona, where they remained for a year, at which time I moved them to Salt Lake City, Utah, arriving there about September 3, 1927. We lived for nearly a year at 703 First Avenue, later moving further east on First Avenue, and then still later we moved to the Sugarhouse area.

During the depression years, I had a struggle to take care of my family. It was almost impossible for older men to find work. Hard, even, for young men. Anna and I had a very bad time with asthma when we lived in California, but in order to make a living of any kind, I had to return to Los Angeles. Anna couldn’t live there so we were separated except for occasional visits. Finally, in the spring of 1936, Anna under strict supervision of a doctor, was able to go back to Los Angeles."

In 1941, George was sent in company with several other men, to Morenci, Arizona, to work on the building of a smelter. Then the 2nd World War started and he was kept there. He did quite well during those years. The company sent him down to Cananea, Mexico to work on one of their installations there. They had some happy visits from most of their children and grandchildren while living in Morenci.

After the War he was able to buy a nice little home in Mesa, Arizona, two miles east of the Temple. Their children were all married by this time, and there just remained the two of them. George worked hard to make this a lovely, comfortable home for Anna, with garden, orchard, grapes, chickens, etc. They worked together, taking great pride in their lovely place. George built more rooms, modernized the kitchen, and made it as nice for Anna as he could. After a fall from the roof of a building on which he was working, he was no longer able to make a living at carpentry. He became an insurance salesman and did very well at it.

He worked unceasingly in the ward and in the Temple. Their old friends (and many new ones), visits from their children and grandchildren and other relatives, and their work in the Church made these years full and happy. In October 1950, all their children and their families came to celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary and were filled with love and pride for this dear couple.

George inspired all who knew him with his love for the Gospel and for his fellowmen. During his life he shared any and all he had with those who needed it. He never over-looked an opportunity to explain the Gospel—to share his means and his strength of character. He inspired many men to actively return to the Church.

Anna became ill and George, not at all well himself, did all in his power to help her, while at the same time keeping up the place and his work in the Temple. When Anna became very bad, their oldest daughter, Maude, left her family in California and came to help them. George sent almost daily cards to the children reporting her condition, and he continued to go to the Temple when he could hardly make it—having to stop frequently in climbing the stairs, but he would not give up!

Finally, Anna began to improve and George relaxed a little in his vigilance. Then his wonderful heart gave up—he suffered a severe heart attack. The doctor said he must go to the hospital, but he refused and it took all Maude’s persuasiveness to get him to go. Before leaving he had Maude bring his checkbook and after several attempts, with Maude’s help, he was able to put his signature to a check he had her make out for his tithing. At the hospital, he was quite comfortable for a short time. It was raining very hard when they took him to the hospital, and before morning of the following day, he was gone, while we wept with the skies. At his funeral, men and women wept—men who had been led by him back into Church activity, who had partaken of his wonderful spirit and sweet brotherhood; neighbors who had felt the glow of his friendliness. He died on January 21, 1954.

All his family were there and they were strengthened and built up by the knowledge and the overwhelming realization of the greatness of him. They had known this, but seeing it all in the love shown in the faces and the expressions of friends and neighbors, was a testimony indeed, that their father was truly great!

In the family meeting afterward, it was learned that George had left his affairs in perfect order. He had no debts, and there would be a small income continuing long enough to take care of his taxes and assessments on his home and for Anna while she lived. His last physical act had been to pay his tithing to the Lord.

A living testimony to his success as a father to their children, was the harmony and good will and love for each other and relatives displayed by his children in making necessary decisions about his property.