Benjamin Vere Wilson
Benjamin Vere Wilsons Autobiography written in the 1970sSchool days
I dreaded the thoughts of going to school because I knew no one and I was so shy. But my parents convinced me that it would be a great experience. My first grade teacher was Mrs. Lnderand. At Christmas she left and Mrs. Savage finished out the year and taught me more. One day Carlyle and Morris Wright decided they wanted a change of Scenery so they asked me at noon if I wanted to go with them. So we sluffed school. I was about ten. Carlyle had some traps along the Virgin River and he wanted to see if he had caught anything. So off we went, sure that we could talk our way out of any consequences. I was barefoot and it was so hot I had to run in between the bushes to keep the sand from burning my feet until we got to the river bottoms. We talked about everything under the sun and what we would do if we found something caught in one of the traps. As we walked up a clearing we could see one of his traps. My eyes focused on something that turned my legs to jelly and the hair on my head seemed to be standing straight up. There, only a few feet away stood a cougar growling at us. I was frozen in my tracks. I don’t know to this day how I got out of there, but I guess I came unfroze because we threw so much dirt in his eyes he couldn’t see to chase us. I think I decided it was safer to go to school.
When I was thirteen, I was going great guns in scouting. I really wanted to get that coveted Eagle award and was willing to do most anything for it. So we set out at daybreak on our fourteen mile hike; Carlyle, Curtis Beams, Kue Beams, and myself. We took the river bottom route as was mentioned in the previous paragraph. Down to Berry Springs was eight miles where we pulled out of the river bottoms and on an old trail to finish the last lap of our hike. We had eaten all our food and five o’clock found us very hungry. We were discussing what we would like to eat for supper, when right above my head, I heard a rattlesnake sing his deadly song. I quickly looked up to see how close he was, and there in a bush half coiled, and half tangled in the twigs I saw the ugly head drive swiftly toward my face, but he had miscalculated the distance and missed me by only inches. I thanked God, but in the moments that followed I soon found it was not over, for I heard rattling all around me. Literally hundreds, it seemed, had joined the death chant. Then came a cry of hysterical words that formed a message telling me Carlyle had been bitten. I cautiously but quickly retraced my steps, but it seemed that from every direction for thirty more feet came that sickening, horrifying sound of rattling snakes, crawling and striking at everything that moved. Finally I was free and ran around the rocks to find my brother. It seemed like that had been hours, but in reality was only moments. I found that Carlyle had been bitten, but the fangs had hit the skin and gone on through and the deadly venom was running down the back of his hand. We made an “X” cut over the wound and sucked and spat out the blood. To our great relief, Carlyle did not suffer any severe affects. But we were scared so badly, we all felt ill.
During my fourteenth or fifteenth year, we were going to have a big Thanksgiving and everyone was gathered for the feast. The boys wanted some excitement, so we decided to go ride some calves. Some of the guys had horses and the rest of us went on foot and caught and tied up several calves of good size that we thought would be good riding. One of the fellows climbed on one with a good set of horns. As he got settled on his back, the steer broke before we could get the ropes off. He took about three jumps and the rider was on the ground and that big set of horns was coming at me. I barely leaped through the forks of a peach tree in time and the calf hit one of the limbs and became discouraged. I guess he thought his target was a little hard.
By this time the vineyard was producing beautifully and I suppose it was quite obvious that I liked grapes, because Dad made the comment that I always picked the longest bunch of grapes that reached clear to the ground.
Our only income was an apiary of bees, a few cattle, a team and a few chickens and pigs. We all had our chores and tried to keep abreast of the work, but there was always more and I had to put off the things I wanted to do.
I learned a lesson in honesty but it was rather embarrassing. It seemed that some of the guys knew where there was a good cowhide that has been hanging on someone’s fence for a long time. We decided that they must not want it, so it was decided that Carlyle and I would take it and sell it, and we would get half the money and the other fellows would get the rest.
We met at the designated spot and they gave us the hide. We took turns dragging it down the street as it was pretty heavy for us, and we were pulling it by the tail. We were met by the buyer who was one of Dad’s best friends. He took the hide and said he would give the money to Dad. Well, that did not sound too good to us and we did not go straight home. But eventually the “Bad Guys” had to go home and Dad knew all about it and we received a real lecture, which hurt me worse than a whipping would have. Anyway, I am glad that someone cared enough to help steer me in the right direction.
Speaking of hides reminds me of the time we were out chasing wild horses, when we came upon a strange looking trail of what seemed to be a dragging chain. Our curiosity was enough to send us on the trail. We followed for about five miles and found a coyote had been caught in a trap by his foot. The chain had caught in some bushes and he was nearly dead. The other fellows killed him with a rock and we skinned him out. Deward Ballard took it and dried it and prepared it and sold it. When word got around that one of the boys had sold a fur, one of the local trappers decided to see if it was his trap and he took hoof prints of the horse and made other unreasonable and peculiar claims and he came to Dad and accused me and I ended up paying for a hole in the $7.00 hide. I hadn’t even helped skin the animal. But I had been one of the group. Well, I decided to pay him off so that there would be no trouble. I found out that people will go to great lengths to make trouble over a little money. But the fur was not mine and at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. I am grateful to my Father who taught me to be a peacemaker and pointed out the better way.
I met with many temptations and I was often having to make decisions that were quite difficult. One Sunday some of my best friends talked me into staying out of church and going to look for some girls. We did not find any girls—I suppose they were all in church as we should have been—but we went over to the old tithing barn and after playing for a little while, one of the fellows pulled out a deck of cards and we played some game and thought we were having a good time. Then one of the group said he had found some Bull Durham, which was tobacco in a small cloth sack. They all decided to make a cig. I said I guessed I wouldn’t and started to leave. They all began to chide me and tried to get me to roll a cigarette. I took the sack and started to make one when my conscience smote so much that my nerves came unstrung and I started to shake. I threw the cig on the ground and said: “Roll your own. I am going to church.” And I did go in late. I don’t know what they said after I left and it doesn’t matter, for that day I made one of the most important decisions of my life. I decided that the friends I had grown up with were on the wrong road and were trying to get me to go with them. I knew then that I had to find some new friends or go my way alone. I did find some new friends and though they were younger than I they were great guys and I love them still. All but two went on missions and they are great men and good fathers.
Twenty years later at the Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake I met one of the fellows who I had walked away from that Sunday—that fateful day in my life-and I could see him with tobacco stains on his fingers and lips, he had wasted away and his health was gone. I am sure that I got a glimpse then of what my life would have been if I had not had the courage to leave my friends and make the right decision when I stood at the cross-roads. The Lord let me see clearly then, the difference in my life and his. I’m ever grateful that my Guardian Angel stood beside me and said: “It’s time for you to get out.” He has been a great friend to me and I love him and am anxious to feel his hand upon my shoulder and talk with him again face to face.