My grandfather, Richard, was a hard-working, unlettered, honorable yeoman who married the daughter of a well-to-do farmer, but the bulk of the estate her father left was appropriated by her brother Tristram Bickle, who was educated as a druggist in London, England and upon his return to Devonshire - our family locality - he assumed charge of his father's property, gathered about Eighteen Hundred Pounds "Sterling" --- the cash and went to Hamilton, Ontario Canada after his father's death, leaving the other members of the family in comparative poverty --- "his poor relations" as he dubbed them. In Hamilton, Bickle established the wholesale and retail drug firm of T. Bickle & Son and flourished for many years as the largest house of the kind in all of Canada, but a letter from his only remaining son to the writer, some 25 years ago, admitted that the family was almost extinct and the property mostly vanished.

      Richard Phare earned his living as a farm laborer, walking from the family home ten miles to his work every morning and returning at night, after generally twelve or more hours work per day. I, as a child, knew him to be a hale and hearty old man, of kindly good nature, as he was passing his last days in my father's house in Devonport, England. He died at about seventy six years, after we came to America. His wife, my grandmother, had been taken from him by cholera about 1849.

      In the Spring of 1855 John B. Phare, shoemaker, concluded to quit the land of his birth and cast his fortune upon the shores of the New World. Disposing of everything that could be spared, to raise funds for the passage across the sea and give him a little to start on upon arrival, he set sail in the barque "John" on Thursday May 3, 1855, with his wife, one son and three daughters. He was at that time just a week less than thirty-one years old, his wife was about twenty-eight and the children ranged from seven years down to about eight months, father having been married to mother about 8 years. The oldest child was Helen (or Ellen), the second John J., third Elizabeth, fourth baby Grace.

      It was later stated that the captain of the "John" had been notified that his ship was unseaworthy, and that he had hastily summoned his crew from their carousal on shore weighed anchor at once and sailed from Plymouth Harbor while he and his crew were too drunk to handle the ship. As they were passing the "Lizard" lighthouse, the still intoxicated steersman took the ship between the lighthouse and the main-land instead of passing outside and about ten o'clock that night, having sailed only about seventy miles, the ship struck on "The Manacle Rocks," a very dangerous reef on the Cornwall Coast, near St. Kevern and "The Land's End."

      The vessels side was pierced by a sharp craig and on this it poised for several hours and the passengers and the crew took to the "rigging" for safety, as a heavy sea was running over these rocks, although only a light wind prevailed. When the passengers were thus disposing themselves, many of them sought the bow of the ship, where they sat upon anchors and awaited their fate.

      The women and the children were gradually taken aloft by the men and my father started to take my oldest sister up into the rigging, but mother objected to this and insisted the he take "Johnnie up first." After some parley the boy was carried aloft with an old shawl around him and given to a man at the mast-head to be held. Father descended to continue the rescue work but when he reached the "gun-wale" and was about to step down, a wave broke over the bow and swept his four loved ones, with many others over the side of the ship to perish. His first impulse was to jump after them, but regained his self-control and the horror stricken parent, dazed by the disaster, made his way up to care for all that was left him of his loved family, and unwrapping the old shawl, the boy, then four and a half years old, was tied with it to the mast until about eight o'clock the next morning.

      During the night a heavy wind raised and the angry lashing of the waves lifted the ship from its huge pivot. Then it settled down beside the rock until only a small portion of the masts were above water. This resulted in sweeping many of the survivors from their lower places in the rigging, so that finally only 72 out of the 282 passengers were rescued by life boats the next morning. Thus were 210 trusting souls swept into eternity by the wretched folly of drunkenness. The crew of the ship, made cowardly by liquor, made no attempt to help save the living freight they were supposed to protect, but even tried to brush passengers out of their way --- one of them tried to free my father's hand from the ropes as the wretch was descending to be one of the first to leave the ship.

      The work of rescue by the coast guard and life saving crew of the locality was greatly delayed on account of the ruggedness of the coast and the increasing storm. So they had to go many miles out of their way to get at us at all, and then had to make several trips. We were among the last to be taken off and my father was so benumbed that after dropping me from one hand into the hands of men in the boat some twenty feet below, he had to let go his grasp of the rope (he thought) that was thrown to him and he fell into the sea. He did not know that he held the rope until he emerged from the water beside the boat and was drawn in. A very great deal of this is singularly to my recollection clear, and while much of it has been told me, the cries and commotion, some praying, others swearing, many calling for dear ones, the roaring of the sea, the whistling wind through the cordage, and my swift drop to the life boat where I made an outcry to regain my "Scotch-cap" which had preceded me to the water, are all indelibly fixed in my memory; also the sight of the ship on its side when the tide was out as I saw it the next day.

      Within the next three days the 210 bodies were all cast upon the shore, but were so battered by contact with the rocks as to be nearly unrecognizable; the catastrophe coming up in the night, when most were divested of clothing which might have protected them. Two long trenches were prepared, one to accommodate 90 and the other 120 bodies, and these graves, as I have since read in a newspaper story, are now marked as containing these numbers. My father was shown a body from which a small set ring that he recognized as belonging to my mother; the nearest approach to an identification of any member of the family.

      Father and the only surviving child were cared for in the family of a ferrier in St. Kevern, named Pentecost, for a few days, after which all the survivors returned to their various home localities. After some time, the captain, John Rawls, was cited for trial for manslaughter but by some means escaped conviction; when last heard of he was keeping a "Public House," as taverns are called in England, and was thus continuing the nefarious work of sending men and women to death and misery.

      In course of time the Government paid twenty pounds for each death and thus the sum of Eighty Pounds came to my father. Becoming acquainted later with a daughter of the St. Kevern ferrier, Miss Arabella C. Pentecost, who was a servant in the family of a naval captain in Plymouth. My father married her in the summer of 1857 and on August 9th of that year made his second and successful attempt to reach America, landing at Quebec, Canada after a very stormy passage of 36 days. For nine days were tossed about in the Gulf of St Lawrence in furious storms that many times made us hopeless of ever seeing land again. One of the most entrancing sights that ever met my eyes was the delightfully green shore of Prince Edward's Island at the mouth of the St. Lawrence river on that glorious September morning (13th) as our ship, the French sailing vessel "Cappe Rouge" --- Red Cap --- entered the peaceful waters of the river and sailed up toward the frowning fortifications of the towering cliffs of Quebec. Here we soon felt the comforting touch of safe and solid land under our feet, but we were not yet through with our water travel, for we took a river steamer up the St. L. to Coburg, passing through the beautiful "Thousand Islands" and running "The Rapids." On this trip we were struck by the end of a log in a passing timber raft, which knocked in a gang-way door just as I had stepped away from it, as I saw it rushing down the rapids toward us. Arriving at Coburg, we boarded steam-cars for our destination of Hamilton, Ontario, the home of father's uncle, the Druggist heretofore mentioned, at whose house we stayed for a day or two when a small house was secured and father opened a shoe shop in the front room of that.

      We remained in Hamilton for thirteen months, during which I attended the city school, continuing my studies which had started in England. A half brother was added to our little family in Canada, but was taken from us at six weeks old, the mother having contacted brain fever and while delirious and in the absence of the nurse had gained access to the infant and allowed it to suckle. He died the next day.

      On the 8th of October, 1858, we found ourselves in Cleveland, Ohio where our first winter was spent in the home of my father's brother Thomas, who then lived on the State Rd, --- now Mayfield Rd., (just East of Lee Rd.) Thomas had proceeded father to America in 1853. This winter father did some shoe work, but much of the time he was engaged with uncle Thomas buying and butchering sheep and cattle and retailing the meat in the city. This was very trying, arduous work. To go into the country and look up the animals, prepare them for market and then haul the meat down to Ontario street so as to get there in time to obtain a good stand -- we generally stood in front of Southworth's old store -- required a big sacrifice of sleep and physical comfort, for the winter was a miserably cold one and we were new to such conditions, as well as climate.

      That winter I attended school in an old school house on what is now Superior Rd, Cleveland Heights and was beginning to feel quite cosmopolitan, for I was then in school in the third country on the face of the earth to me, and felt quite an experienced traveler as well.

      Having spent the later few years in an English town, I found it often necessary to protect myself from imposition by larger boys, and in this new country and the school there was quite a disposition to abuse a "Britisher" on general principles in those days. I managed to get along fairly well, however, and was respected by most of the boys, but more wholesomely after an over-grown boy of about 12 years, who had played a trick on me, got a trimming from the eight year old that made him respectable and peaceable thereafter.

      As I am planning to soon get out a more extended story of my life and experiences I shall now abbreviate this attempt and content myself with merely giving dates and places.

      In the Spring of 1859 we moved to Doan's Corners, then the business center of East Cleveland, occupying a house on what is now Ansel Rd. but was then known as Doan street. The next winter moved down below Hoffman Brewery about where Talbot St emerges on Ansel. On March 1, 1860, moved to 14 acres garden place on Euclid Av. through which Harkness Ave., now E. 90th st was later opened. Here father and mother joined the Methodist Church. In the Spring of 1861 moved to Doan St., on 3 acres owned by a Mr. Custead; that Spring I worked some weeks in his nursery on Custead Av., later known as Genesis, now E. 82nd.

      While in the Doan house the "Civil War" began, following the rumblings we had heard the year before, when we had been shocked by the news of the shooting of a son of John Brown and later the execution of that grand old hero. Father was urged by a warm friend William Giles, who had rendered us welcome aid in the hard winter of 59-60, to leave the U.S. and go with him to Canada, but he remained tho he did not become an American citizen until the Spring of 1865, shortly before the war closed. Mr. Giles went to London, Ontario and never returned.

      The Spring of 1864 found us occupying a house with Mr. Ansel Young, for whom Ansel Rd. was later named and upon this three acres we continued our market gardening, with excellent success as my father's farm experience in England became very useful to him and he was always very thorough in his work. In April 1865 father took what seemed then a big chance and bought a house and lot on Euclid Ave., where he had previously worked winters at shoe-making for others and started a business in that line for himself. The house and lot, 20X210 ft cost him $875. His business prospered -- long boots were then in vogue -- and in 1868 he purchased, on time, 136 ft on Cedar Ave. just East of Doan St., now 105th St., at ten dollars per foot, then considered a good price. In 1870 he sold the Euclid Ave. 20 ft for $1750 and retained the house, a really good advance for those times. The house was removed to the Cedar Ave property and here he made his great mistake. Instead of tearing this house down he moved it and spent too much in remodeling it. Then came the expense of grading, paving, sewering, etc., in rapid succession, until he was frightened into trading and encumbering the place and finally disposed of all at a serious loss.

      In April 1871 I engaged myself for two years to Mr. James T. Willard, carpenter, to learn that trade. After that, attended East High School two years and in the fall of 1875 became a student at Allegheny College, Meadville, Penna having determined to become a physician. Attended there two years, but health and money failing, left there and in the fall of 1877 entered a co-partnership with Mrs. Jas. A. McCeagh in the coal business in Cleveland with an office on Ontario st. near the old market. A warm winter was disastrous to that venture and on the 3rd on May, the anniversary of our shipwreck, 1878 I started for Salt Lake City, Utah, where in response to inquiry a former Cleveland neighbor had promised me employment. I arrived there on May 10th, father's birthday and at once began work for The Old Telegraph Mining & Smelting Co. which was headed and controlled by L. E. Helden of Cleveland.

      Some months afterward father followed me to this place and was given work for the same company. The following fall I took up mission school work for the M. E. Church of which I had become a member in 1870, and opened a school at Nephi -- Salt Creek -- Utah, and in the early spring of 1879 returned to West Jordan, 12 miles south of S. L. City where I established a select school among the people where I worked the previous year. I had started a Sunday school, which was patronized only by the "Gentiles," of course but the day school was favored with several pupils from among the Mormons, as had been the case at Nephi where several Mormon families were represented by seven children. In strict justice I must say that the behavior of the mormon children was fully equal to that of the gentiles, with one or two exceptions and most of them were as tractable as any teacher could ask.

      In the summer of 1879 I obtained work at the Old Telegraph mine in Bear Gulch, Bingham Canyon as a mine carpenter, but the first four days I was required to do other labor in the "bowels of the earth" where I gained my first experience in under-ground work, breaking up "waste rock," shoveling and pushing the wheelbarrow in the most dangerous place I had ever labored. Was then sent to the carpenter shop where, with six Scandinavians I remained in the work of getting out, or framing "square sets" for the inner workings of the mine, until the late winter of 1880. Then I accepted the mountain mail route from Bingham post office to the mines and miners homes and cabins throughout Upper Bingham, Bear Gulch, Highland Gulch, and "Duncan's." This route required a saddle horse, and used my time from 8 a.m. to about 3 p.m. every day. In addition to this I conducted the Union Sunday School of Bingham and occasionally presided at funerals, as the "camp" could boast of no resident "Sky Pilot." The cemetery was at the mouth of the canyon, seven miles away, for that was the nearest place to get land level or smooth enough to make a grave yard.

      In November 1880, Rev. Erastus Smith, pastor of the Methodist church at Provo, Utah when he first "discovered" me, but was now transferred to Beaver City in the extreme southern part of the territory, obtained a position for me as Assistant Post-master in the latter town and there I spent the winter of 1880-81 until some time in March. In January '81 I was engaged in selling Singer sewing machines, working the territory south of Beaver City, mainly at Parowan, for the Beaver postmaster, a Mr. McMillan who was agent for that locality forwarded a telegram for me from Beaver that my stepmother was very sick. She and father were then living at West Jordan, Utah he having brought her to Utah the summer before. On receipt of the message about 9 a.m. I immediately started north for Beaver and home, and on arriving, found that mother had died on the 27th, 1881. After the funeral I returned to Beaver City and soon thereafter with a bachelor friend named Joseph Whithorn, returned to Salt Lake county, partly on foot, about 200 miles on horseback and from Nephi on the train. From that time until early June 1881 I worked at the carpenter trade at Franklyn, Utah a few miles south of S. L. City, building a smelter. In June I entered the employ of Mr. Robert Warnock, who was in the Farm Implement business in Salt Lake City, as bookkeeper and general assistant in the yard and setting up mowers and reapers for the farmers at their homes. Late in the summer of 1882 I received a letter from Miss Kerna L. Shaffer, with whom I had kept up a somewhat intermittent correspondence since leaving the East, having met her at her home in Woodcockboro, Pa while I was attending college at Meadville and this letter contained a clipped marriage notice that Mr. Stafford L. Rimebaugh, to whom Miss Shaffer had been engaged some years before, had married another lady. His attentions to Miss Shaffer had ceased before I had come West, but she had conscientious scruples in regard to her promise to him, so that I had not been able to persuade her to marry me, while he remained single. On getting the letter I at once telegraphed her to the effect that she would soon see me and confirmed it by letter. On September 3, 1882, I started East for a month's vacation, arriving at milady's home on the 12th, I think. On the 20th we were married and a few days afterward took a train for S. L. City via Chicago where we stayed one night at the home of my aunt Mrs. Jane Wilson, arriving at S. L. on the 5th of October in time for the usual rush of business which always occurs there at the Mormon Conference time. About the first of the following July 1883, I left the employ of Mr. Warnock and took a position at the same salary, $100.00 per month, with The John W. Lowell Wagon Co, in the same line of business. At the close of the following November was laid off owing to slack trade, and the next day but one, our first baby came to us.

      This narrative will now be discontinued for a time.