Voices from the Past

The Archibald Family History and

Pioneer Stories

Interviewee: David Watson Archibald

January 22, 1970

Tape #56

Oral Interview conducted by Harold Forbush

Transcribed by: Brittney Law September 2006

Edited by: Emily Crane March 2007

Brigham Young University- Idaho

2

Harold Forbush: Through the facilities of the Upper Snake River Valley Historical

Society located at North Center, Rexburg, Idaho. The following taped interview, done

originally on real to real tape, is now transcribed onto a C-90 cassette this 21st day of

April 1984.

HF: It’s a real pleasure for me to welcome to my office on this 22nd

day of January, 1970,

a man whom I have known for a long time who was my Bishop when I was a youngster,

and one in whom I, and from whom I have received much inspiration and love of the

gospel appreciation, Brother David Archibald, Brother David W. Archibald of Salem.

And so it’s with a genuine personal joy that I welcome him to my office this evening here

at Rexburg at 68 East 1st South. Now Brother Archibald, in interviewing individuals we

usually ask them a series of questions starting out with the question: Will you kindly state

your full name, the date, and place of your birth?

David Watson Archibald: Thank you Harold. I appreciate that compliment you just paid

me. My name is David Watson Archibald. I was born on Father’s Homestead, one and a

half miles north of the Rexburg courthouse and one mile west, in August 1888, the 23rd

day of August. That was a typical year, I figure, for the farmers in the new valley. They

say they had ripe watermelons and a fair harvest coming in.

HF: And with them, of course, the raising of, and birth of a fine young baby boy. Were

you the first in your family?

DA: I happen to be the 12th

, Harold, member of a family of 13. My father and mother

were born in Scotland near Edinburgh. Grandfather and Grandmother Archibald were

converts to the Church among the early people of the British Isles that were converted.

And they had planned to bring their family to America, but in those days money was a

little bit slow—they were coal miners—and as a result it took several years of preparation.

And during that time my grandfather, who was a coal miner, had died, and that left

Grandmother and seven or eight children. Of course, by that time, the time of

grandfather’s death, Father was a boy of fourteen. He was taking his place and working

to help support the family. But grandmother wouldn’t give up; she wanted to come to

America. She figured that the gospel was worth it. And so in the early 1860’s,

Grandmother, her seven children—three of the boys at that time were married— started

for America. She had saved over the years some relics. Also, she was a great knitter.

She had knitted hooks and crochet work that she figured on selling once she got to New

York so that they’d have money to come on across the plains. And you can tell her

disappointment, when she found that the trunk containing that had been stolen or

misplaced.

HF: After arriving here…

DA: After arriving at New York, and they were left practically destitute.

HF: Now what year did she arrive then?

3

DA: That was about ‘62 or ’63. 1862 or ’63.

HF: And at least prior to the coming of the railroad?

DA: Yes, the railroad didn’t come, well, the railroad was as far as Winter Quarters.

From New York to Winter Quarters they could ride on the railroad, but see, they had no

money for tickets. And so the boys, they coal miners, they moved into Pennsylvania, and

there they worked in the coal mines and accumulated some money, and as soon as they

could, they left for Utah.

HF: They arrived then, in Utah, a few years after their arrival here in the United States?

DA: Yes, they arrived there, as I remember, about 1864. Charles W. Nibley was a

Scotchman and knew the Scottish people, and he had a little settlement established in

Cache Valley, south of Logan, Utah. So the Scottish people were gathering there.

HF: Which community is that?

DA: Wellsville.

HF: Wellsville.

DA: Wellsville, in the southern part, next to the mountains in Cache Valley, Utah.

HF: And it was principally settled then by the Scottish people?

DA: Yes, they were the majority.

HF: I presume your folks knew Charles W. Nibley.

DA: Yes.

HF: Now Brother Archibald, did your father come with his mother?

DA: No, you see, between the time of Grandfather Archibald’s death and the time that

they were able to come to America, about six years had elapsed. Father had become in

love with a Scottish lass who was not a member of the church and whose family were

very much opposed to Mormons. And so he stayed there to convert her and get enough

money to come to America. They were married…

HF: I assume then, that he, he did the job.

DA: Yes, yes he did a good job. And on the 31st day of December, 1862, they were

married. And then for, until 1866, they worked and prepared to come to America, and by

then they had a baby, seven or eight months old. They left, in May; they left Liverpool in

May of 1866.

4

HF: Which ship did they come by?

DA: I don’t know.

HF: And from which port did they…

DA: They left Liverpool, England.

HF: And he had been, and the family had claimed as their residence Edinburgh, I think

you mentioned?

DA: Yes, Edinburgh. And they spent 6 weeks on that sailing vessel to arrive at New

York, so you can say they had some stormy weather.

HF: So, your father caught up with his mother then, and I presume in Wellsville, Cache

Valley.

DA: Yes, they, when they got to New York, they took the train to Winter Quarters, and

from there they joined an ox team company of immigrants. Father, on the company, was

one of the scouts who went ahead watching for Indians, if there was any firewood or

anything to gather up. When he couldn’t find that, he’d get dry buffalo chips for camp

fires at night and watch for water and grass for the oxen. Mother, most of the way,

carried her baby, but they were young and strong, they enjoyed the fresh air, the scenery,

and they had hopes of establishing a home for their family when they got to Zion.

HF: Well now, Brother Archibald, after your mother and her family of two well-grown

children had arrived in the Wellsville area, was it some little while, I assume before

circumstances and factors induced them to come into the Upper Snake River Valley?

DA: Yes, Harold. Father and Mother, however, were the only ones of the family to

come to the Snake River Valley. Father and Mother spent 17 years in Wellsville, Utah

where he worked at different trades, wherever he could get work; worked on the Logan

Temple to help build that, he worked for farmers, but mainly on the railroad. And he was

working on the railroad when the golden spike was driven in the track west of Brigham

City in 1869.

HF: There at Promontory Point?

DA: Yes.

HF: Well, that’s very interesting. Then your grandmother didn’t come with them up

here. Maybe in the meantime she had passed away?

5

DA: No, grandmother lived until she was in the 90’s. She lived there at Wellsville,

Cache County, Utah. One of her daughters lived there and two of her sons. One son

went up to Canada, and he has a son now in the presidency over the Canadian Temple.

HF: That’s interesting.

DA: Father and Mother were the only ones with their families to come to Snake River.

Now how that come about, you see, Thomas E. Ricks and a company of pioneers come to

Rexburg in February of 1883, and when they looked over the country, they decided it was

a good place to come. And so they went back and told the people in the Cache Valley of

beauties of Snake River, the wide area, and advised them to come up here and get land.

Plenty of water, and the prospects were good. And so in ‘83, in June of ‘83, Father, my

older sister, and my oldest brother took the team and wagon and come up to look the

valley over. They were so favorably impressed that father filed on a homestead, up north

and west of Rexburg.

HF: The place of your birth?

DA: The place of my birth. They built a home in Rexburg first, because they built

community canals then, Harold, as you understand when the pioneers come in they have

to build canals, roads, clean sage brush and fence the property. So they did it in a

cooperative manner. And the easiest land available was west of Rexburg so they fenced

an acreage there, cleaned the sagebrush, and raised crops there. During the meantime,

each of these men, who had a homestead, were working on their own homestead part of

the time in order to have a crop of their own, different from the cooperative.

HF: Course you mentioned that your father had worked on railroad construction, and so

he was undoubtedly was trained in the handling of the Fresno and some of these other

items of equipment that would be important in the construction of canals?

DA: Yes, that come second nature to all of the pioneers.

HF: I suppose that would be so. Well now, when they arrived in the valley, did they

have, really have any equipment other than maybe a couple of horses or so and a wagon?

DA: And a hand plow.

HF: And a hand plow.

DA: That was just about the size of it.

HF: Now, how did they get up here? By wagon?

DA: Yes, they come by wagon.

HF: In a caravan-type group of them?

6

DA: Well, sometimes three or four families together, sometimes a dozen—very seldom

traveled alone.

HF: Now, you mentioned that he homesteaded out there; he went back and brought his

wife shortly after…

DA: A year later.

HF: A year later.

DA: Yes. They went back and the temple was completed at Logan, so that they could go

through the temple and get their endowments, and so the family went over to Logan, and

all received their endowments. Father and Mother were married in the temple, and then

they went back to Wellsville and prepared to come up here. They loaded what little

furniture they could in the wagon; they led the cow behind. They had a few chickens and

a little box on the back, and a couple of little pigs. It was quite a trip. That lineup took

them fourteen days from Wellsville to Rexburg, Idaho.

HF: You’re father commented to you as a youngster, telling you some of the experiences

that were incurred on the way. Can you recall any of those early experiences that he had

in arriving here?

DA: Well, there’s two in particular, the rest incidents that I rather I get a chuckle out of.

One was that their horses were small; they were loaded pretty heavy, and when they’d

hitch them up early in the morning, the horses didn’t want to get right in and pull. And

so one of the boys would get on a horse, after they were harnessed up and ready to go,

ride them up the rode for a quarter of a mile on a lope, then lope them back, hitch them

onto the wagon, and the horses would forget all about walking and take off with the outfit.

HF: [Laughter] That’s quite an inducement to get them all in motion, in gear, so to speak.

And another one you mentioned.

DA: Well, this other one happened later in the fall not on this trip; it happened later in

the fall. My brother, Thomas, had gone to, down the country to get some seed wheat.

When he returned, oh there were several of the boys from here that had gone with him

with their wagons, and when they returned, they found that the ferryboat west of Rexburg

at the Carter Bridge was frozen. The river had frozen over, and they couldn’t use the

ferryboat. And so they took one old gentle horse, tied her feet together, and skidded her

across the ice on the east side, and then with ropes and chains, they’d lift the other horses,

skidded them across, and then they locked the wheels on their wagons, and skidded them

across. They got all the outfits across without incident, until they come to the last; it

happened to be the heaviest. In pulling out of the river, evidently they got a little too

confident, and it broke loose and rolled back, and broke through the ice. But they were

able to put more horses on it and pull it up.

7

HF: That’d be quite an experience to be remembered, I’m sure. Now, you mentioned that

you were the youngest of 13.

DA: I was the 12th

child…

HF: Excuse me, the 12th

of 13. And does this mean then that your parents, when they,

did they bring all of their children with them?

DA: One child had died and was buried, but that left eight, if I remember correctly, that

come with them. And then William, myself, and Franklin, the three youngest, were born

here, at Rexburg.

HF: Where there other Archibald families that moved into the area?

DA: No.

HF: In other words, the Archibalds that we know in the valley here today, this would be

the banker over here; A.E. is it, or E.A.?

DA: A.E.

HF: A.E. would be a relative?

DA: A.E. is my brother, James’, son.

HF: And then I knew a Jack Archibald up in Tetonia several years ago.

DA: Jack Archibald, his father come later, several years later, and they settled in Teton,

Teton yes, and the Jack went to Teton Basin. And Jack is a cousin of mine.

HF: He would be a… your father’s brother.

DA: Uh-huh, descendant.

HF: Descendant, I see. Well that’s very interesting, that’s really interesting. Well, now,

Brother Archibald, by the turn of the century, this would make you about 11 years of age,

by this time, of course, there are a number of impressions that you had received of the

area. Can you recall some of them, some of your early acquaintances possibly? This

would be prior to the turn of the century.

DA: Well, Harold, we weren’t traveling all over the country too much then, but we knew

our neighbors well. Now on the west, Alexander Layton had homesteaded that, and he

has a large family. They were Scotsmen and were friends from Wellsville. Then, the

Westover’s were on the East, Earnest Westover. They had a family of boys, and of

course, they and I played together a lot. On the north, joining us on the north, was the

Thomas Robury family. They were older, and so I didn’t know too much about them, but

8

my older brothers and sisters were well acquainted with them. And, of course, our farm,

the south side of it joined the Teton River that is just north of Rexburg. So it was later on

before we had neighbors on the south.

HF: Now, do you recall when they diverted water, say, from the north fork, south fork,

excuse me, the south fork of the Teton, and did you get your water from that particular

branch?

DA: Yes, in 1884 you’ll find that they have recorded and started a canal, known as the

Teton Island Canal. Later, it turned out to be the great feeder, and there were quite a few

smaller canals that brought their water down that for aways, and then they branched off.

But the Teton Island Canal was the one that father was interested in.

HF: Now, was it a diversion from the, the south fork?

DA: Well, that was up near the diversions of the Teton, up north of Teton City is where

they diverted their water.

HF: That was the name—that was before the Teton River Branch then? Was that…?

DA: Yes, about the place where it branched, see, so that they could irrigate all of the

Sugar area, the Sugar City area and all down through the country.

HF: Do you recall something of the construction of the, this, what do you call it, the

Island?

DA: Well, naturally, as a youngster, when Father and the older boys worked on the

canals, they would stay right there because they worked long hours, and Mother and

some of the girls and I would take them up provisions. As a little kid, well, maybe I was

six or seven or eight, I remember the first experience they let me drive a team while they

operated the slip scraper on the hand plow. I remember I thought I was quite a boy, and I

could drive the team. The horses knew more about what to do than I did, and I followed

along.

HF: Well, that’s uh, that’d really be quite an experience. Do you recall who was

employed or generally who they got to do the survey work for these canals? Does a

name come to mind…?

DA: Well I re—I remember Harold on this one occasion when I was there that they had a

spirit level. And they’d lay that on a straight log or pole, and from that they’d get the

level, or the fall, of the ditch. And so anybody that could run a spirit level could help

with the fall in the canal. It’s a rather crude method, but it was very effective.

HF: That’s real good. Now, this canal which we’re referring to is still in operation today?

DA: Yes, yes it is.

9

HF: It’s probably been what maybe expanded, widened—

DA: That’s right.

HF: Deepened some, and improved upon but…Now a number of the farmers all along

the canal had benefited from the digging of this, this project.

DA: That was right, and it was done in a cooperative method. Everybody that wanted

water from there got out and worked on it.

HF: Did this extend down into the Hibbard area?

DA: The southern part, or the southeast part of Hibbard, yes, is watered from the Teton

Island. The main part of Hibbard gets its water from the consolidated canal company

which has its head on the north fork of Snake River, and the Island Park Canal Company

which has its head on the north fork of the Teton River.

HF: So that there are the three, and originally, that there were the three main canal

systems?

DA: Yes, but, of course, they’ve expanded a great deal since those early days, Harold.

HF: Yes, I would think. Well know, can you recall some of the early crops that were

grown and some of the problems that they, the farmers experienced in getting the land

ready for, for the planting of the crops?

DA: Well, of course, I don’t remember too much about grubbing sagebrush. I remember

as a youngster watching them ride a rail. They’d put a team on each end of this rail and

go over the sagebrush and knock it down. By the time they went over that a couple of

times, the sagebrush was pretty well loosened up. And then we’d go out, everybody

available would go out and gather the sagebrush up, and then we’d have some beautiful

bonfires when it was dark.

HF: And I imagine, even in those days, they didn’t find weenies and marshmallows, they

had something else to roast. [Laughter]

DA: Yes. That’s true.

HF: I recall in interviewing, I think it was Silas Clements, when they were doing this in

the Clementsville area, east of Canyon Creek. He explained that they did the same thing

up there, so this would be quite a typical thing. After getting the sagebrush out, why,

they’d have to burn it up to get rid of it.

DA: That’s right.

10

HF: And so, I know this is very interesting. Now do you recall as a young man riding a

horse maybe, or driving a team and wagon into, say, Rexburg on an errand or errands and

getting groceries for your folks?

DA: Yes, Harold, all my leisure time was spent on a horse. I had an old bay mare at first

that was a typical pioneer of the country. I remember two of my city friends from

Rexburg were out with me one night, and we were having a little ride on her, and she saw

a white hare jump out, and so she imitated that and jumped right out from under us.

Joseph Durns was on the back, Frank Winter in the middle, and me on the head, and of

course, we fell on Joseph. He was pretty well mashed; Frank and I got off fairly lucky.

HF: [Laughter]

DA: And then, when I was five and a half years old, I was riding this same old bay mare,

and we had to drive our stock down to the river, which was a half mile from the corrals,

to water. And that morning, I was helping Father, and they had separated, and some had

gone one way and some another. Father said to me, “You take Ol’ Mill and go down and

see that that bunch that went to the right gets to the river. And so I went down there,

about a, when I got down there about a quarter of a mile, we had left her colt, about a six

months old colt, with the other herd. So she decided that she wanted to join the other

herd, and so she just whirled around, and I couldn’t stop her. And as we went through a

slew, she rubbed into some brush, and I was brushed off; it was early in March and the

ground was frozen, and I landed out in the meadow. I was pretty badly skinned up, and

so I got up and decided I’d go to mother; let the cattle go. So I started for the house.

When I got there I was pretty well bummed up and crying, as you can imagine, so Mother

doctored me up, got me fixed up, but my right arm kept bothering me. And so about, oh,

when the children come home from school, that would be four or five o’clock, they got to

looking at my right arm and found that it was broken. It was not too badly broken, but

after the aches and pains got out of some other places, I could tell. And so there was an

old gentleman in Rexburg that could settle arms or bones…

HF: You don’t refer to him as a doctor then?

DA: No, no. He wasn’t a doctor.

HF: [Laughter]

DZ: But I can remember the chlorofien he used. He set me on a chair, and it had an arm

on it about like your bench here. And he said, “Now, Sonny, if you won’t cry and holler,

I’ll give you a nickel,” and he laid the nickel out there. And so I just gritted my teeth and

let him push that arm back into shape. Then he put splints on it and bound it up, and I got

the nickel and went home. But, when that arm began to swell, then it was fairly painful.

Nobody around the place got any rest for a night or two. And then, [cough] pardon me,

some home missionaries from Parker come through the country, and Father, being a

member of the bishopric, they spent the night with us, and they administered to me, and

the pain seemed to immediately leave that arm. From then on, all through my life, I have

11

been sure that there was an influence, person, or a God in Heaven that heard and

answered prayers.

HF: And you got this early conviction when you were just, what, just around five?

DA: Five and a half years old.

HF: That’s a real blessing. Your arm became well, and…

DA: It’s never bothered me a day since.

HF: Since that time. Isn’t that, isn’t that remarkable? Well, now, you mentioned that

your father was a bishop of which ward?

DA: The 2nd

ward in Rexburg.

HF: And that would embrace the area somewhat north of the Teton River as well as

maybe on the south of the river?

DA: To begin with, there was the 1st and 2

nd wards; and so that would be the west part of

town and the families that lived northwest of town, that would be included in the 2nd

ward.

HF: 2nd

ward.

DA: Now you see, there’s several wards. The 3rd

ward was taken from

HF: Now was your father perhaps, maybe the first mission—first bishop of that ward?

DA: As I recall, he was in the first bishopric, with Timothy J. Winters as bishop.

HF: Well that’s quite, quite remarkable. Now where did you attend school?

DA: My first school I attended was in Hibbard. We were out there in a way, Harold, in

no-man’s land. We could belong to Rexburg, Hibbard, or Salem. And Hibbard, some of

my friends were going to Hibbard, my older brothers and sisters had gone to Hibbard; it

was a comfortable, one room log schoolhouse, quite long. So as a six-year-old I started

down there.

HF: In the vicinity of, maybe where the present church is located?

DA: One half mile east from the present church in Hibbard on the Polly Parker farm.

And C.C. Moore, who later become governor of Idaho was our teacher. All eight grades

were in this one long room.

HF: Well, isn’t that interesting. Now, how many years did you attend there?

12

DA: I attended there six years. After I had gone there three or four years, they moved,

built a new school house down just catty corner across the street from the church house.

And I attended there until I completed six grades, then I thought I’d like to go to Ricks

College. They were teaching the 7th

and 8th

grades there; it was Ricks Academy then, not

Ricks College. And so I attended the Ricks Academy for the 7th

and 8th

grades.

HF: Well, let’s see now, just rather quickly, can we calculate about what year this would

be?

DA: Well, I graduated in 1908 from the 8th

grade.

HF: 1908. And this would mean that you were approximately 18, 19 years of age?

DA: Yes. That was the general age then, Harold, because so many of us only attended

the winter quarter, and as a result it took two years to complete a grade.

HF: Can you recall for us, some of your classmates? Graduates of that class of 1908.

DA: Yes, I believe I could. Vida Driggs Brighton was one; the Parker boys, Joseph and

Lorenzo; Lorenzo is an officiator in the Idaho Falls Temple; Vida Driggs Brighton is an

officiator in the Mesa Temple, I met here there last year. Oh, there were some of the

Prices from Teton Basin…

HF: Such as Larkin, the present Mrs. Mickle?

DA: Could’ve been. And…

HF: Or Mrs. Wilson?

DA: Yes, there were two Wilson girls. There were Eva and umm…I’ve forgotten the

other one’s name.

HF: Let’s see, this was before the days of Melvin Luke, wasn’t it?

DA: Yes.

HF: Before he came up there?

DA: Yes. Ezra Delby…

HF: Was he the principal?

DA: He was the principal up there. Henger was our music teacher, H.H. Hale was one of

the teachers; James Andersen was one of the teachers.

13

HF: Now, were your classes, at this time in 1908, still held in the Jacob Spori building?

DA: The administration building, yes.

HF: The administration building that was principally the only building…

DA: That was the only building.

HF: On the campus.

DA: Yes. There were 57 8th

grade graduates as I remember. The following year, Harold,

I was asked by the bishop to take the missionary training course and so in eight, in the

year of eight and nine, I took this missionary training course, and then I left for the

Southern States Mission in May of 1909.

HF: Who was the president at that time of the—that’d be Benny Rich?

DA: Benny Rich had been transferred to New York. Charles A. Callus was our president.

The Southern States Mission consisted of all those southern states from Florida,

Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, up to Ohio.

HF: What, What were your impressions of this dynamic character, Charles Callus?

DA: Charles A. Callus was…

HF: He was a man that came as a little immigrant boy, I guess, from Dublin, Ireland, and

through his own self effort, self education became a very dynamic attorney, didn’t he?

DA: He did. And he was just that way in the mission field. He wanted us missionaries

to work—not be afraid to work. So the mission experience, you’ll remember that a few

years before that there were two missionaries killed out in East Tennessee, and I was

working in West Tennessee, so there was a lot of opposition. But we managed.

Now in that missionary experience, I might say this: Benny Rich had promised the

missionaries that if they would do their duty, there would always be a place provided for

them to stay. I hadn’t been out very long when we run into a rather bitter community.

We traveled until late, and my companion become tired and exhausted and he said, “I’m

through, I’m going to quit. We’ll look for a haystack.” And I said, “Now, listen, Elder,

our president promised us that if we’d do our duty, we’d find a place to sleep. I’m not

about to sleep in a haystack until I give some more of these people a chance to take us

in.” He said, “Okay, I’ll sit here with the grips.” We carried our clothes and our books,

and our pamphlets in a grip, or a suitcase, that weighed possibly 20, or 25 pounds. “And

you go and find a place to stay, and then you come back and get me.” And I said,

“Alright.”

14

The first place I stopped was a minister’s. I told him who I was and what I wanted. Oh

no, he wouldn’t think of taking Mormons in. And I said, “Well, who’s your neighbor

down the road here?” He said, “He’s a sinner. He goes fishing on Sunday, and he never

goes to church.” And I said, “Thank you, that’s where we’ll stay.”

HF: [Laughter]

DA: And so I went down there and told him who I was, and he said, “Go get your

companion, and come on in.” I went to shut the door to go out, “Hey, have you had

supper?” And I said, “No, but don’t bother for us.” And he said, “Go on.” And so when

we come back, there was a nice meal on the table for us. We had a good bed, and a good

conversation.

HF: That’s, that’s really typical of these individuals who aren’t quite as sanctimonious

oft times prove to be the most Christian-like don’t they?

DA: Yes, more humane.

HF: Well, now, Brother Archibald, after you returned from your mission, about that time

I imagine you were looking around for some employment. What type of employment did

you early take up after you returned?

DA: When I returned, I wasn’t going to be a farmer. I had decided that I wanted a white

collar job. The first job I got was setting up home comfort stoves. Well, when I come

home I helped Father with the harvest, and after harvest I got a job with the Rod Iron

Range Company and for three months I went out through the country and set up cook

stoves. Well, I could see that that kind of a life was not what I wanted, and so Father had

offered me an opportunity of farming with him. So I decided, after all, to be a farmer. In

that way, working with Father, I was able to get a team, a harness, a wagon, and a cow.

During the time I was working with him, I homesteaded a dry farm out west of Idaho

Falls. And when Father decided to move to town, Lilly and I—by the way, I was married

by then. The year that I come home, 1911, I met a good-looking young lady that was

attending Ricks College, or Ricks Academy here, from Louisville, Idaho.

HF: What was her maiden name? Lilly…

DA: Lilly Stallings. She was from a pioneer family. They were originally from England

and Whales, her ancestors, and had come into Utah. And from Utah her father and

mother and brother and sister had come to Louisville and homesteaded a place there. So

she was attending college, and with me being a returned missionary and ready to look for

a girl, I become interested in her.

HF: Even in those days they encouraged the, the missionary who was just finishing up

his two, two and a half years to go home and establish a home?

DA: That’s right.

15

HF: [Laughter]

DA: So two years of courting her, I convinced her that she should marry me. So we

were married in 1913 in the Logan Temple.

HF: Then you, when you went off to Idaho Falls, and this, this area that you

homesteaded, did you stay there quite a number of years?

DA: We stayed there until ’16. During that time with the team I had broken up 220 acres

of the 320, but…

HF: To complete the tape…turn to…

[Side Two]

HF: Side two continuing and concluding the interview with Brother David W. Archibald.

DA: But there was too light of rain fall out there. The soil was good, slope was good,

but there was too light of rain fall. And when I approved—when we approved up on the

homestead, I had a chance to trade it on a place in Salem, which I did.

HF: Out in north, and west out there…

DA: Yes.

HF: Where you’ve lived all…

DA: For forty-four years.

HF: For forty-four years. When, what year then did you get in, you went to Salem in

1916?

DA: 1916.

HF: 1916. And by this time you may have commenced your family?

DA: I had one son, Marlin.

HF: Brother Archibald, after arriving with your family and settling in, what would we

say, north…?

DA: North Salem.

HF: North Salem, it wasn’t too long, I don’t suppose, until you became involved in

Church work out in that area, in the Salem ward?

16

DA: No, it wasn’t Harold. The superintendent of Sunday School was Roy Andersen, and

old schoolmate of mine, and he knew that I’d filled a mission, so he asked me if I would

teach one of the Sunday School classes, and I accepted that responsibility. More or less,

through the years, for quite a number of years I taught Sunday School. Then I was

acquainted with Vernice O. Harris, the bishop of Salem through my family. So I was

given plenty of opportunities to work in the Church.

HF: Now, at that time was the present stone church, had it been constructed?

DA: Yes, it was completed and a very nice chapel.

HF: It was one of the nicer chapels, I imagine, in the area.

DA: Yes, that is right.

HF: And who were his counselors serving with him at that time? Say between 1916

and…

DA: James Shirley and Heber Roylence, as I recall, were his counselors.

HF: Now, James Shirley would be the father to…

DA: Leo…

HF: Leo…

DA: and Fred

HF: and Fred, and Less, and those fellows.

DA: Yes.

HF: And Heber Roylence would’ve been the father to Mrs. Hoky Mortenson…

DA: That’s right.

HF: Is this correct?

DA: Vera Calaway, George Roylence.

HF: Who were some of your neighbors in North Salem neighboring your, your farm at

this time?

17

DA: C.G. Ward was on the west, Lavery’s, John Lavery, on the southwest, Hants P.

Jensen and Willard Walston on the east. Allome Larsen’s farm was just east of Hants P.

Jensen’s.

HF: This is the Allome B. Larsen who a…

DA: Patriarch.

HF: Patriarch, the blind patriarch.

DA: That’s right.

HF: Was he actively engaged in farming in those years?

DA: Yes, he was. Gerald was big enough to rather oversee the thing, but Allome was

out with them all the time. My boys, Till and Hal, they would sit on the mower and be

the eyes for Allome B. while he operated the team and more.

HF: Isn’t that [Laughter] fantastic? Now this is really remarkable. Well now, in those

late teens, had farming progressed to the point where you were commencing to use more

machinery in your operation?

DA: Uh, yes. Some of the farmers were getting tractors for them, I stayed with the team

for a little while longer. But we found that we were a little short of water. We’d grow

beets and we’d have a struggle getting water for them in the fall of the year. Potatoes, we

weren’t growing many potatoes then. And so, I become interested in obtaining a better

supply of water. And so when I served as directors on some of those canals out there, we

were able to complete the Henry’s Lake and Allen Park Reservoirs and get them in

operation and get the benefit of the storage water.

HF: This would’ve been in the 30s would it not?

DA: That started in the, soon after I got there we were looking on this, Henry’s Lake.

And then it was about ‘37, as I recall, when we completed the Allen Park Reservoir.

HF: And these waters were brought down through the, what the Consolidated?

DA: To us, yes, Consolidated Canal Company.

HF: And this was a diversion out of…

DA: Henry’s Fork.

HF: Henry’s Fork, the north fork of Snake River.

DA: That’s right.

18

HF: Where is that diversion point, is that this side of St. Anthony or…?

DA: Yes, that is down river more west of St. Anthony a couple of miles.

HF: Now, were the potatoes being produced out on your, out in that vicinity at that time?

Say, in the late teens?

DA: No, only very limited acreage.

HF: Just kind of garden, or kind of still on the experimental stage with it?

DA: Yes, but in the late 20s and in the 30s, then we began to raise quite a few potatoes.

HF: And beets were quite a principle crop I suppose?

DA: Yes, yes, there were beets on the farm when I bought it, and I raised beets for years.

HF: And those beets were hauled to the sugar factory there at Sugar City.

DA: Uh, there were a dump or receiving station at Salem and one also at Hibbard as well

as Sugar City.

HF: Had that spur line been constructed going through Salem?

DA: Yes.

HF: And that led on down into Hibbard didn’t it?

DA: Yes, it went down as far as the North fork of Snake River, and down where Nick

Summers and Charles Allred lived.

HF: Did you also produce the various types of grains on your ranch?

DA: Yes, I had what we turned a diversified crop system. We raised a few beets, hay,

grain, had milk cows, stalk cattle, a few sheep, and a small herd of hogs. In order that

gave us a little income, Harold, as we went through the seasons.

HF: Now, let’s see, did you mention diary cows?

DA: Yes.

HF: And you milked cows then and you had a diary?

DA: Uh huh.

19

HF: Now as time went along, of course you had quite a family, didn’t you? How many

children did you actually, you and your wife parentage?

DA: We had eleven children.

HF: Uh huh.

DA: Let’s say in passing that those 11 children all attended Ricks College. Nine of them

graduated from Ricks College either as a two or a four year college.

HF: Uh-huh, and they attended what, Sugar High?

DA: Yes, they all graduated from the Sugar, Salem High School.

HF: How about elementary school, where did they…?

DA: That was the little North Salem brick schoolhouse.

HF: And that would be just, what a mile north of the present location of the church

approximately?

DA: That would be a mile and half wouldn’t it, Harold?

HF: Mile and a half—

DA: Yes.

HF: Up there on the Bill Lavery corner?

DA: Yes.

HF: Up in that area?

DA: Just under the hill from Bill Lavery’s.

HF: Was this a this was included the eight grades, I take it?

DA: At North Salem, correct.

HF: And possibly, what was it, a two room school?

DA: No, it was three.

HF: Had the eight grades.

20

DA: For awhile we had three teachers. Some years there were only two. And you might

say in passing, which would be interesting to the principals today, we paid the principals

$100 a month then, and the school teachers were getting 75.

HF: Fantastic, of course the dollar in those days was maybe worth, four or five dollars

[Laughter] compared to now.

DA: Well, you pinched it harder and made it stretch more.

HF: And I’m sure, this is, this was really so. Well, no, do you, would you care to

mention some of the teachers that were instructing, that did instruct some of your

youngsters, in the elementary? Then mention some who instructed your youngsters on

the high school level.

DA: Well, Harold, that is quite a question when you stop to consider that our family

spent 44 years in grade school and then half that time, no—88; 44 in high school. But

there was Eva Rice, Joe and Jenny Brown, Don Archibald taught one year as principal

out there…

HF: This is your son?

DA: Yes. Frank Ricks, to mention a few.

HF: Well, that’s interesting.

DA: Then, Thatcher, Mr. Thatcher, Kenneth Thatcher was at Sugar Salem High when

they went there.

HF: Would this have been in the in the 30s, possibly maybe in the 40s?

DA: Yes, that was in the, that would be mainly in the 30s. You see, by the time we got

passed ‘35, then Marlin would be in college, the year of ‘35, so Lee Armstrong was the

seminary teacher there at Sugar Salem.

HF: I well remember him, of course, and he must have been there pretty much through

the 30s and into the 40s.

DA: Yes.

HF: Well now, Brother Archibald, I know that in the, in the late 20s or possibly 30s you

became the bishop there in Salem. Maybe you can give us the dates on the, on your

service as bishop. Who the counselors were and so on.

DA: Let’s go back just a little, Harold, as “in the teens,” as you say, I worked in the

elders quorum; I was president of the 2nd

Elder’s Quorum there at Salem. Then in ‘21,

the year 1921, Whinnis R. Harris moved to Salt Lake. George Holt was playing bishop,

21

Charly Bircham, first counselor, and I went in as second counselor. We worked for five

years as a bishopric there. Then it was reorganized and George S. Tanner went in with

Arbor Martinson and Frank Belnap as counselors. [cough] Pardon the cough. And then

in ‘27, I was sustained as a high counsel man in the Rexburg Stake. In May of 1830, I

was sustained as bishop of the Salem ward, with Arbor P. Martinson, first counselor,

Grant Arborn, second counselor, and Ray Hickston as ward clerk. We served for five

years.

HF: That seemed to have been a rather a set pattern for quite a few years there, maybe

kind of a set pattern for the Salem Ward? Five, six, seven years as a period of service.

Well, this is very interesting. I remember as a young boy my family had moved to Salem

in ‘33, and I’m quite sure that it was during this administration wherein you presided as

bishop that I finished up my primary days there in Salem and probably was give the right

to the Aaronic Priesthood. Well, now, following this activity as bishop, what service

were you involved in, on the Church categories.

DA: Shortly after being released as bishop, I was put in president of the High Priest

quorum; there were a few over 200 high priests. The Rexburg stake then consisted of

wards from Newdale to Archer. And it was their business to rather check with the high

priests of each ward, and where help was needed, help them. That was a very interesting

work. We organized several temple missions, and at that time, we had to go to Logan.

So we would get a busload of the high priests, leave here about 12:00 at night, go down,

and go through two sessions of the Logan Temple, and then return, which would take us a

little over 24 hours. We had very many, very fine excursions and experiences. After the

stakes were divided, or the Rexburg Stake was divided and the North Rexburg Stake was

added, I was still retained as president of the High Priests Quorum. I was released in the

year ’48. Then in the fall of 1948, I was ordained a patriarch to the North Rexburg Stake,

a position I still hold, not in the North Rexburg Stake, but in the East Rigby Stake.

HF: Well isn’t that wonderful? Well, now, this was, must have been a tremendous

challenge to try to carry on these functions in a stake that large. What were there, the 12

wards possibly?

DA: About 14 as I remember.

HF: 14 wards in the stake. And then after it was divided, the stake divided, did this

mean that there were, 14, I mean, excuse me, seven wards in each…

DA: Yes.

HF: …stake?

DA: Well, let’s see, yes.

HF: Now, I think they have eight in Rexburg.

22

DA: Until they started dividing, see, now they’ve divided Sugar, and they’ve divided

Rexburg, so it wasn’t long, before there were more wards really than seven in each stake.

HF: You’ve related somewhat of your own church activities. That good wife of yours,

Lilly, surely worked along with you in also holding church positions and rendering

church service. Would you like to comment?

DA: Yes, Harold, Lilly was very faithful in her work. She was a good mother, good

home keeper, a good wife, and she did considerable church work. She was a primary

worker in our little primary in North Salem; she worked with Myrtle Shirley one year as

her counselor in MIA, and the following two years she was president of the MIA in the

Salem ward. She enjoyed music, and she sang in the choir and in the quartets for 19

years at one serving, she was chorister in the Sunday School. She was also chorister in

primary, and chorister in the Relief Society. She had the privilege of singing with the

Ricks College choir in the Salt Lake Tabernacle and with the Singing Mothers on one

occasion in the Tabernacle. And so, Lilly did her full share and a little more in rearing

the family and in helping in every way possible.

HF: Well, now, she had a background of music, didn’t she, at the time, or prior to the

time you married her, in piano, maybe, and things like this?

DA: She enjoyed music, but she had only taken about two music lessons in her life; the

rest was self-taught. Soon after we were married, we got a piano so that she could

practice the piano. On one occasion I remember her saying one summer, she gave a

dilator who come out to give Keith piano lessons. While he was giving Keith piano

lessons, she would dress, three nice big young roosters, and he would take that as his pay

for giving Keith the music lesson.

HF: Well, now, the, your family has been a family of musicians, or at least musically

inclined, isn’t this essentially so?

DA: Well, I would say so and, Harold, in our young married life when the family was

growing up, Lilly would take care of teaching music, and if they had any problems with

their reading, their writing, or arithmetic, that was my job to help them out. And so we

divided the work in that way, and, as a result, Lilly was very effecting in her work.

HF: This is—this is indeed wonderful. Then, in high school, I became acquainted with

some of your children like Robert and Eileen, Ralph and others, and I always had the

strong feeling that they came from a very wonderful home. In this, Brother Archibald,

you and your wife surely must had a program that you were able to follow.

DA: Well, Harold, we’ve appreciated the family, and we’re quite proud of them, as all

parents are of their children. Five of the boys have had the opportunity of filling

missions, and all the boys and girls have been active in the wards in which they have

lived. If there was any program that we had established, I think possibly it would be

cleared up in this statement: Lilly and I were raised in homes where we were taught that

23

the family unit was eternal. We believe this to be a true principle. It takes united action

to be successful. Honesty, truthfulness, fair play, and faith in God and our fellow man

were helpful. We set high ideals, and if we fail to ever reach this goal, we, at first, we try

again. I think this poem was very helpful.

Live for something, have a purpose,

And that purpose keep in view.

Drifting like a helpless vessel,

Thou canst ne’er to life be true.

Half the wrecks that strew the ocean,

If some store had been their guide.

Might have long been riding safely,

But they drifted with the tide.

We taught all to take responsibility and how to work. Our farm provided plenty of

opportunities to teach this and teamwork. We showed interest in problems and successes

of each child; we tried to always support and encourage their talents; we tried to have at

least two outings per year, where we spent several days as a family. We gave thanks for

our blessings in secret and family prayers daily. We took the family to church with us;

the family who works, plays, and prays together, stays together. So if we had any policy,

I think that pretty well states it.

HF: It looks to me, though, as, if America and the family units that make up America

could use that as a recipe in the course of rearing their families, we would truly have a

wonderful nation, a strong nation, and this comes back to the statement of Thomas E.

McKay, and I recall him of having made so many times: “A family that prays together,

stays together” and this is rather of a significance recalling that on the date that his

brother, our beloved President, David O. Mackay, who of course, was laid away today

and buried there in Salt Lake.

Brother Archibald, I want to say that indeed I have appreciated you coming here to the

office this evening that we might do this. Again, I have had a lot of deep appreciation for

you, for what you were able to do for me long ago when you taught school, excuse me,

taught Sunday School, there in the Salem church. And this in those years immediately

following your retirement as a bishop, when you were given the responsibility of guiding

we 15, 16, 17 year-old boys and girls there, and you would always manage to pose and

present challenging questions in the Sunday School class that really caused me to think,

and I’d go home and read the Book of Mormon and try to search out some of these

answers in the Book of Doctrine and Covenants, and also the Bible. It was a real

challenge to me, and through your guidance I know I was helped immeasurably in

learning and gaining a testimony of the gospel.

DA: Thank you, Harold. I’ve admired you for not being discouraged and have worked

under a handicap, and may the Lord bless you.