Hettie Mina Staker

Hettie with her husband Peter and children.

History written by daughter Mabel Myrle Johnson Halbert

Hettie Staker Johnson, daughter of Alma and Elizabeth Young Staker, was born at Mt. Pleasant, Utah December 23, 1896. Her early life was spent there and she attended schools there.

She was a vivacious child and seldom took time to walk. The teacher said to her one day “There you go again Hettie, skipping up and down the aisles.”

Discipline was strict in school in those days, and one day for a mischievous prank the teacher gave her little girl friend a hard spanking. Then he came down the aisle to get Mother, but her older brother, Alma, rose up in his seat and said “Don't touch her!” The teacher backed off, but Mother always felt badly about her friend.

She was often required to stay with her Grandmother Young at night. She called her “Granny Young.” Her Grandmother was fond of telling ghost stories after they went to bed, and sometimes Mother would slip out of bed after Granny had gone to seep and run home, about three miles across Mt. Pleasant. The next morning Granny would have to go and see where she was, and give her a good scolding.

My personal knowledge and recollection of her, of course, begins when I was very small. She was one of the finest Mothers a girl could possibly have had.

Always interested in what her family did and anxious for their welfare and education, she gave her life for her family. She had a capacity for understanding, and a wise and just solution to every problem.

When I needed money for tuition or books it was always forthcoming. I often wondered how she managed so well.

She often said “I can read a person like a book,” and she had an almost uncanny judgment of character.

When I was a child on the farm she would hitch the horse to a one horse buggy in the spring and go out and locate the carcasses of dead sheep, who had died on the range while foraging for grass. In early fall when there was nothing remaining except the bones and wool she would go out and get the wool, scour it with soap and lye and when perfectly clean and pure white, would sit during the winter evenings and card it into beautiful bats for quilts.

She knit nice sweaters, wristlets, and stockings for the family. I couldn't wear the woolen stockings because they were “itchy.” During WWI she spent many hours knitting for the Red Cross.

I was constantly by her side, interested in what she said and did, and I learned a great deal from constant association with her.

Her family was always well dressed as she was a good judge of material and a fine seamstress. She was an immaculate housekeeper, an excellent cook, and canned and preserved fruit of every kind. They held open houses the year around, and relatives and friends always found a welcome in their home.

Hettie with her surviving siblings. Hettie is on the far left.

She had high ideals for her family and wanted them to “amount to something.” She was determined that her family should have an education and each in turn had an opportunity to go to school as long as they would.

She had a keen interest in the arts, music, literature and everything of culture and refinement. Our house was never without an organ or a piano and our bookshelves were packed with the finest books. We girls were all given piano lessons.

I have seen her washing dishes when she looked so tired, rather than take me away from my homework. I have often wished since I had washed the dishes for her.

She was deeply religious and lived the principles of the Gospel. Her health prevented her from attending Church the last few years of her life, but her faith did not falter. She was faithful to the end.

She was ingenious and could seemingly meet every emergency. One tie I asked her if I could have a party. She mad a non-committal answer, so I proceeded to invite the whole school at Farnum to our house to a party. They all came, two sleigh-loads of them, and the surprise was on Mother. She rose to the occasion and made a nice dinner for all of them. I can still remember the hot rolls and other good things she served. Everyone had a good time.

She pioneered by Father's side, making a home for her family under all conditions. They lived at the coal mine and it must have been there that she, accompanied by me, of course, looked into a boarded up tent where a tea kettle was steaming on the stove. I remember thinking it was Satan's abode. She undoubtedly knew who lived there.

The summer of 1920 Father had a plowing contract for the Carabou Land Company at Soda Springs. He took his tractor, his teams and machinery, with a herd of Holstein Dairy cows out there and did a great deal of plowing, but the company went bankrupt and he did not get anything out of it. He finished the season putting up hay for a cattleman nearby.

About 1909 or 1910 they sold the dry farm and bought a big farm adjoining the city of St. Anthony. He and Hugh Davis divided the land and Father farmed his part, but Hugh rented his out. They lived there for several years, and finally in 1923 they moved to Pocatello where they bought a nice new house at 118 So. 13.

It was here that Mother passed away April 12, 1931. She is buried in Mt. View Cemetery in the family plot.

Her face was like an angel,

Her hands were gnarled with pain,

Her ideals every upward

I hope we meet again.

*We have another 3 page handwritten account of Hetta by one of her children, dated 6 Mar 1955. We also have a 16 page account of Hetta by her granddaughter Ila Gertrude Smith Gilbert, daughter of Ethel Matilda Johnson Smith.