Mary Minerva Neff Fisher

by her son, Junius Ferry Fisher

Mary Minerva Neff Fisher was born September 6, 1857 in East Mill Creek to Franklin Neff and Frances Maria Stillman Neff. She spent a very happy girlhood, and attended school when she could, which was in the old Mill Creek Ward House at 39th South. She was one of seven sisters and two brothers: Frances Maria, John Franklin, Barbara Matilda, Rosella Solome, May Seymour, Alice Amelia, Seymour Howard, and Alfretta. Two children died in childhood. My Mother's mother had brought many precious things with her from the East and she kept an unusually lovely home.

My Mother married my Father when she was 21 years of age, in the Temple, December 26, 1878. My Father was also 21 years of age. They built a home on Fisher's Lane, and moved into it when they were first married. She was an ardent worker in the Church. She was the first Secretary in the Mutual in that ward; also, a worker in Relief Society. She had very little rime for entertainment during the younger pan of her married life because she was so busy raising a family, a new baby nearly every year. However, she was delighted to have relatives and friends drop in for a visit and never was she too busy that she could not stop her work and put on a fresh apron and serve some refreshments. Her huge pantry was a delight to her many grandchildren, who adored her. There was always something to eat at our home. She was widely known for her generous hospitality.

Many times the boys would bring their girlfriends’ home for a wonderful dinner; they were very proud of their Mother and her cooking. Her large family was her whole life, never a dull moment. If she wasn't cooking, washing, ironing, cleaning, or canning, she was nursing them through measles, chickenpox, black diphtheria, typhoid or smallpox. She nearly lost Frances with diphtheria. We had five down with diphtheria at one time and the bottles were lined up by the patients. These held all of the medications known for the disease at that time, and were to be used so often during the anxious hours. It was during this black time that a stranger appeared at our door; he came in and stayed for a few days and helped take care of the sick. Then he left without a word, and we never saw him again, nor did we know from where he had come. I can remember him telling us to, "Just call me Patriarch Smith."

Nothing delighted my Mother more than to have all of her family at home with their children on holidays and Sundays. The huge table, which had belonged to Brigham Young, could be extended out to great size -it took two huge white tablecloths to cover it. After a delightful meal, we went out under the huge Catalpa Tree by the front corner of the house for dessert which was found in a 5-gallon ice cream freezer.

Those were indeed the hours to be remembered by all. The sweet aroma of the blossoms of the Catalpa Tree, the wide sweep of the green lawn which sloped down to the picturesque little stream which was lined with lacy walnut trees where butterflies would flutter around by the hundreds. Beyond the stream were the beautiful orchards, which were the trademark of my parents.

Bath time was just about the same in our large family as in most all other families of this size. The large coal range heated water in its reservoir, and large boilers on top of the stove also held heating water. Behind a curtain stretched out in front of the stove, an old-fashioned, round tin tub stood ready to receive the water and the children, two by two. Each was responsible for ruling and emptying his own bath.

Approximately 12 loaves of bread and a huge pan of rolls were baked every day -one can understand why -there was a time when my Mother had nine children in school at the same time. Lunches of sandwiches, fruit, cookies, or cakes were carefully packed –Mother always tried to see that a little surprise was put in with the lunch. Frances saw to the serving of lunch at school. The lunches were carried 3/4 of a mile to school in a large bread pan. During the winter, we would wrap our feet with gunnysacks to keep out the wet and cold. If the weather got too bad, my Father would hitch, up the bobsled and take us to school. Several classes were held in the same room at the same time. There were only two rooms in the school. If because of sickness or weather, our family could not make it, the school recessed, because our brood made up a large attendance of the school.

An exciting time of the year was when the threshers came. The table was again extended to its fullest and with the help of her girls and daughter-in-law, the wonderful cooking would be passed from the two stoves to the table. How those tired, hungry men porked up and enjoyed every morsel that was placed before them. There were four bedrooms, and a let-down bed. The boys slept out in the hayloft in the summer. Mattresses used to be made by putting fresh straw in the ticking every year. Later, feather beds were made.

Four hundred quarts of canned food were always on hand. A ton of flour was kept in a special room. The grain from our land was taken to the gristmill and made into our flour. However, Mother liked the grain from the year before for her flour, and would try to exchange it whenever she could. Much bartering was done in those early days. I remember so well the barrels of sweet pickles that my folks purchased, and after the pickles were gone, pears, peaches, plums, grapes, etc. were put into the juice and left to pickle; that was fine eating. Our smoke house furnished us with good meat. Our dried beef was excellent. The grandchildren especially loved to spread the pieces of fresh fruit on clean cloths on top of the sheds for drying. The large fruit cellar half way down Fisher's Lane was one of the most popular places, especially at harvest time -the grandchildren helping to make the apple cider in the press, and a steady stream of good winter eating coming through the door of the cellar, to be stored.

No, my Mother didn't have time for much outside enjoyment because her family took up almost all of her time, but she didn't feel that it was a drudge, or complain of hardships, or the awful worry and tiredness which came when nursing a very sick family. She was a true pioneer wife and mother, with high hopes for the future of her children, and a strong belief in her God.

At this writing, only three children remain, Junius Ferry, Joshua, and Alfretta. We buried Minerva early this month. All had passed the age of 53 before passing on. My Mother's descendants are in the hundreds. She passed away February 4, 1928.