Erickson
Albert Arthur Erickson
1886 – 1951
Preston, Hickory, Missouri to Salt Lake City, Utah
Theodore (Johannson) Erickson
1859 – 1880
Leksberg, Sweden to Salt Lake City, Utah to Orange County, California
John (Johannes) Erickson
1829 - 1904
Finnerodja, Sweden to Preston, Hickory, Missouri
Wilcox
Anna Verna Wilcox
1886 - 1973
Franklin Alonzo Wilcox
1862 - 1882
Walter Eli Wilcox
1821 – 1844
Massachusetts to Nauvoo, Illinois to Salt Lake City, Utah
Huldah Lucas Wilcox
1781 – 1846
Early resident of Kirtland, Ohio Died as Pioneer at Council Bluffs
Albert Arthur Erickson 1886 - 1951
The main history is from Leslie Leona Erickson Stout’s
Biography, a daughter, prepared by Karen Ann Wallace Pena.
Also remembrances from Ray Erickson, a grandson and Merle
Erickson Woodruff, a daughter.
Albert Arthur Erickson was born in Preston, Hickory, Missouri
on 13 May 1886, the youngest son of Theodore Erickson, a
Swedish immigrant, and Mary R. Bell Mackey. He had two
older brothers, Elmer Ellsworth and Walter Clifford. Their
grandparents, Johannes and Ullrika Eriksson had come from
Sweden and purchased the property in Hickory, Missouri in
1877. Years later on a visit, Elmer remembered when they
were growing up and sitting on “the very benches where the
three boys carved their initials, and we could still see them.
They had a large orchard. Grandpa John Erickson went to St.
Louis and he came back with a big bag of pecans. Mary Bell told him to take the biggest ones and plant
them.” The orchard is still there in Preston.
When Albert Arthur was four years old, their
mother, Mary, died on 15 November 1890. Their
father, Theodore, married Violetta Clementine
Renfro on 2 April 1893. He called her Clem. They
had two children, Gertrude and John.
Ray tells the story of his father, Elmer, Albert’s
oldest brother. “Elmer met the LDS missionaries in
Colorado when he was about 19 years old and was
converted in Manassa, Colorado. Nellie (Ellen)
Arnold, (he always called her Nellie) went to visit
her sister, Alice, at their store in Colorado. She
went to the store to get some potatoes and he was
sitting on the sack. She asked him to please move.
He must have immediately fallen in love because he
arranged for a date that night. When Nellie left
Colorado, he quit his job in Creed and followed her
to Utah.
Shortly afterward, Uncle Walt and Albert came out
too. He later worked at the Power House in
Garfield, Utah. He went to ask for a job but was
told there were none. He saw a hole in the fence and
crawled through. When he found the foreman and
asked for a job, the foreman asked how he got in.
He said he crawled through a hole in the fence
because he needed work badly. The foreman said if
you need work that bad, you’ve got a job. Albert
later became Elmer’s oiler at the powerhouse.”
Albert Arthur, Elmer Ellsworth, Walter Clifford About 1890
Merle remembers that Elmer and Nellie were living in
Garfield, Utah. During this time, Nellie was having a
baby. Verna Wilcox, a practical nurse, was taking care of
Nellie and the baby. This is how Verna and Albert met.
Albert Arthur and Anna Verna Wilcox were married on
21 June 1911. They went on their honeymoon to see
Albert’s folks in Missouri. Mother said they had a
wonderful time. Not long after that Grandpa Theodore
and Grandma Clementine Erickson moved to Midvale,
Utah.
Walter, Albert (seated), Elmer
Albert Arthur and Anna Verna Wilcox Erickson
Wedding Trip to Preston, Hickory, Missouri
1911
Top: Anna Verna Albert Arthur Ellen Arnold E. Hazel Jane E. Walter Vard
Center: Clementine Lenea E. Elmer Albert Arnold Theodore Orin (hiding)
Bottom:
Lois Elsie
Gertrude
Elmer Laroy
Albert and Verna had six children:
Leslie remembers that “my parents were living in a grey-framed house in Garfield, Utah which is where
I was born on 2 August 1917. My mother was planning on a boy and had chosen a name for him. She
had promised her brother that she would name her baby “son” after him, so when an auburn-haired
female was born instead, they gave me his name, Leslie.
Garfield was a small town close to the Garfield smelter where my father worked for many years. Merle
and Frank were also born in Garfield at home. I was three when they were born and when we moved to
Salt Lake. Frank was a baby when we moved and it was shortly after he was born when we moved (in
1919). Bertha and Margaret were born at St. Mark’s Hospital in Salt Lake.
Kennecott Copper Company The Garfield Smelter Power House Division 1912
Elmer Erickson 2nd from left
Albert Erickson 3rd from left
The only memory I have of our house in Garfield is a fence around our home, a field, tall stairs to our
door, and a big swing with a very big seat hanging from a tree limb. I was three years old when we
moved from Garfield to Salt Lake City to a house on California Avenue. It was a red brick house with
a cement porch with pillars. Dad always worked and he always had a job. He worked at the Garfield
Smelter. We didn’t have a lot of money and times were tough.
My maternal grandparents (Wilcox) and my mother’s sister (Helen probably) were living close to our
house. I’m sure our family was a very big help to Mom with her small babies. My father never owned
a car—he commuted to work at the smelter by train. In fact, neither of my parents ever learned to drive
a car. When my parents were raising their children, travel was mainly by train, horse and buggy and the
good old trolley streetcar. I don’t remember the horse and buggy, but I know that is how my parents
traveled.
I can recall one great adventure while riding with my parents on a noisy swaying trolley car. More than
once we would have to wait while the conductor walked to the back of the car to replace a swinging
trolley on the wires. Some young prankster had pulled it off the wires. One of the favorite tricks for a
teenager was to dash behind a trolley and pull it from the track.
In the rear of the house on California Avenue was a big red barn. Behind this barn ran the fast moving
and quite wide Jordan River. It was forbidden territory to us children, but as to all children, water is
intriguing. My sister, Margaret, who was then 8 or 9 is the only one of us to fall into the river. I
remember screaming. We were playing in the back of the house and she fell in. It wasn’t a big river—
more of a stream—but she fell in and as I remember I was with them and she slid into it and we hauled
her out again. It was a dangerous thing for us growing up there. It emptied into the larger area of the
Jordan River.
Mom was pregnant with Dick when we moved from California Avenue to a two story red brick home
on 800 West and north of 1300 South in 1922. We were in the Cannon Ward. I remember the stairs
because I used to take the leaf from the dining table and slide down the stairs. How I got away with
that I’ll never know—but I survived it!
This was where the two boys were born. I can remember that Mother’s cousin, Elizabeth Duke, lived
next door with her family. She assisted Mother with Dick’s birth. I was not allowed in the house when
Dick’s birth was taking place. I remember when they sent me outside and I rode the tricycle around and
around and pretty soon they came and said I had a new brother.
When I was six, we moved away from 800 West to 244 West 600 North. The street was sloped and the
area between the sidewalk and the street was lined with tall and stately poplar trees. I always felt the
trees gave the street dignity but they are not longer there. Our home was an old adobe house that was
owned by my father’s brother, Elmer. Even when I was very young, I felt that my house was very
unique and it holds a lot of fond memories. We lived in the home on 600 North until I was sixteen
(1932). Those ten years are precious to me.
Originally the home was very small but rooms were added. When our family of eight moved in, our
house consisted of a living room, kitchen with a bathroom next to it, a small bathroom off the living
room that my parents shared, and a small bedroom that had been built off the kitchen with two wooden
stairs. It was only made of 2x4 beams off the ground with a wooden floor. My three sisters and I
shared this room with bedbugs and spiders and various other bugs looking for a little warmth. (I still
have a problem with spiders.) In winter, the frost was so thick on the windows and we went to the bed
with a hot brick at our feet. A small room had been built at the north end of this room where my
brothers slept. We had no closets so our clothes were hung on an open rod at the end of the bedrooms.
We only had a handful of clothes.
My birthday is August 17 and father’s payday was August 6th so for me I never had parties or real
presents, but I never missed anything. My most favorite toy was a doll that I had forever. Helen gave it
to me and someone had given it to her. It was a plaster-china headed doll with moving eyes that just
moved a bit. I don’t know whatever happened to the doll—my Mother did something with it, I
imagine. She probably shared it with someone else—they did that in those days.
Our home also had a screened back porch leading from the kitchen to where clothes were washed by a
two tub scrub method and an old washer with a ringer that was turned by hand. Helen got her hair
caught in it at one time. She had a big chunk that was torn out. She had brown hair and when it grew
back, it grew in as a grey spot that she had for the rest of her life.
Merle, Grandpa Franklin Wilcox, Franklin, Bertha, Margaret, Richard, Verna, Albert, Leslie
My Mother made the best apple pie. One time I remember she sent me to the store when I was pretty
young and gave me a dollar to get a roast. I went down to Frewin’s and brought home the roast. She
made boiled raisin cake—we still make that. Our kitchen had an old fashioned stove and a warming
oven on the top of it. She baked her own bread—you could smell her bread four blocks away. I
remember the side of the oven had a flat water jacket on the side. I just about lost my life on it.
I had a bad shock one day when I was about ten years old. I was in the kitchen and we had some new
kittens. Bertha was lying on the couch in the living room. She wasn’t feeling well but had two
boyfriends there visiting with her. In the living room was a beautiful light fixture. I was tall enough to
reach the switch on the cord hanging from the kitchen. We had some baby kittens in a box on the chair
in the kitchen. I pulled the light over closer to display them and supported myself with the other hand
on a chrome ridge on our coal stove. I received a severe shock. My grandfather, Franklin Wilcox, was
standing close by and was well padded with his warm coat. He wrapped his arms around me and broke
the current.
I had another close encounter with tragedy in this house. I was sitting on the open door of the coal
stove, snuggled in the warmth of the stove when I began to feel faint and ill. It was a Buck Stove. My
Mother was in the living where we had an old dresser and she was combing her hair. I stood up and
started to walk towards her, lost consciousness and fell with my head going through the window and
breaking the glass. The heavy green blind was pulled down and it wrapped around my head. I fell to
the floor with only a bruise. The blind had stuck in the broken window with a perfect shape of the top
of my head. I didn’t even get a scratch.
The children attended the Washington Grade School from first grade to the sixth grade. I remember
walking several blocks to the school sometimes stopping at a small store on the way for candy. A
penny would buy a stick of horehounds candy or a big round sucker—and they were pretty good
sized—you could hardly get them in your mouth. A nickel was a fortune and would buy a small sack
full of goodies. We attended West High School which only went to the 11th grade.
While we lived in this home on 6th North, our sister Bertha was ill with a heart condition that resulted
from rheumatic fever from when she was about six year old. She was in and out of bed frequently and
was a lovely girl, petite with long blond wavy hair. Our household revolved around her health. When
she was ill, we were all very careful of her. She had a very happy disposition and never complained.
My sister, Merle, was away from home most of the time. She was attending college and worked in the
Primary Children’s Hospital not far from where we lived. She completed her education in the Holy
Cross Hospital and graduated as a registered nurse.
We had a lot of fun when we lived in this house. Margaret, my brothers, Frank and Dick, and I along
with some other friends played numerous outdoor games. We played a lot of cowboys and Indians and
our guns were wood blocks cut into simple shapes of a gun. The trigger was a clothes pin and the
ammunition was a rubber strip cut from an inner tube. You knew when you got shot, that’s for sure!
Across the street was a huge field. We cut across it to get to school. We played a lot of baseball there.
Part of it was on a slope so in the wintertime it was used by all the neighborhood children as a sleigh
riding hill. The winters seemed severe with deep snow. We had a porch with three steps and the snow
would butt up to the top. The snow was a lot deeper in that period of time. The roads were not cleared
of snow but the sidewalks were. The plow was a horse drawn wagon made of wood with a wooden “V”
front to push the snow.
In the summer, a horse drawn wagon would deliver big chunks of ice to the houses. The ice man would
chop out a chunk for our wooden ice box that was on the wooden back porch. It would cost about 25
cents. My friends and I with his permission would take a broken chip for us to eat—it was a real treat.
A huge tree grew in our backyard. My brothers built a tree hut in it. It was a daring adventure to climb
up to it. Dick was an accident victim when he fell from it and broke his arm. It knocked the breath out
of him—that’s for sure.
In our large yard in the winter we built wonderful snow forts and had great snowball fights. In an area
at the side of our house, Dad had a garden with lots of vegetables and vine type fruit. It was always
open for snacks. In the winter, we stamped a circle in the snow and played a game of fox and geese or
tag. A large barn was in the backyard with a chicken coop attached to it. The chickens kept us supplied
with eggs. Sometimes I would help myself to 2 to 3 or 6 eggs and trade them for candy. Bartering was
not uncommon at that time. I traded the eggs with Mrs. Smith and she was really happy with them
because I gave her really fresh eggs. (My parents knew but my conscience really bothered me.)
I built a playhouse in the backyard using burlap sacks for walls. I used it mainly for a theater. I would
write a play and we would try to act it out. The railroad tracks were just a few blocks away and in the
summer a few hobos would jump off the trains because the trains would be moving slowly on their
approach to the depot. Some would find their way to our door. Mother would give them a meal on our
back steps. Some were Indians. I remember one day looking out of our living room window and
seeing the face of an Indian with a feather in his cap and he was looking back at me.
One of the funniest things we did were the church Road Shows. I remember that Margaret and I were
fairies and a policeman. We would all pile in a big horse drawn hay wagon and go from one ward to
another. We would start in our ward, the 24th Ward. I remember Bertha being a soldier. My sister
Bertha was feeling well enough to attend high school. She was a year ahead of me and a good student.
She and Margaret were in the same grade because she hadn’t been well enough previously to attend.
Margaret and Bertha graduated the same year. Soon after I graduated we moved to a house on “D”
Street and 3rd Avenue. It was right up the street and was gray with big front steps.
Our Family Outings
Very few people we knew had a car. There were few roads. We used the streetcar until I was a
teenager and then those were replaced with busses. My Uncle Arlin, who was my Mother’s brother-inlaw, bought a Model “T” Ford. It didn’t go fast and it seemed to go uphill in reverse more easily. We
didn’t have money for entertainment. I earned about 10 cents an hour babysitting.
Our most exciting times were excursions to Salt Air and Lagoon. We would save our money for weeks
for the occasion. Salt Air was a magnificent place. I remember when the whistles blew and the steam
hissed and coughed and smoked. The old Pavilion was one of the wonderful resorts of the county and
rose in spectacular elegance right out of the Great Salt Lake. You always knew when you were
approaching Salt Air because of the sulfur smell. It was an amusement park of Moorish architecture on
manmade piles driven into the bed of Utah’s Dead Sea. The railroad cars were benches with open sides
and the wind would blow in our faces and the cinders in our eyes. Salt Air opened in 1893 and for
many years it was a world famous place to go for dancing. It was always crowded. We had many
famous band leaders out there with ballrooms that were reported to be the largest in the world. Many
famous people came to entertain us such as Valentino, who danced close to his partner. I was young at
the time.
Swimming in the salt water was a big attraction. It was so salty it would burn your eyes and sting—and
you couldn’t sink! We started going to Salt Air when I was quite young. We would come out of the
water stiff from salt. Our favorite thing was the funhouse. The giant racer left us breathless and was
the largest in the world. And oh, the sunsets! We enjoyed the spectacular sunsets while we picnicked.
Black Rock was a swimming attraction and was where our church Mutual youth activities would be.
Another fun recreation place was Lagoon. It was built in 1886, the year my Mother was born. We had
to take the Bamberger Line train. It wasn’t easy to get to because it was up in Farmington. One time
the train car I was on went off the track. It was frightening. Liberty Park was a pleasant place for
family picnics. It had picnic tables, a Merry-Go-Round, swings and a small stage. I recall hearing the
famous Sousa and his band there. It was fantastic! When I was a kid, we went to Wasatch Springs with
my Dad and the rest of the family. I remember jumping off the side of the pool into my Dad’s arms.
Anna Verna Wilcox and Albert Arthur Erickson
The house on “D” Street was large and very nice. My Mother’s sister, Helen, was living with us for
awhile and she was staying in the room with Bertha. Our home on “D” Street enfolds a lot of loving
and memorable memories. Merle, Bertha and Margaret were married during the time we lived there.
Margaret and Bertha were married at home. When Margaret married Mike Wallace in 1935, I cried a
lot after the ceremony. She and I were quite close as sisters and good friends so I felt I had lost her.
Bertha married Leland Rasmussen. She was small in stature and had beautiful wavy bond hair. Leland
was tall and very nice looking. I thought they were a storybook couple and very much in love. Merle
married Paul Woodruff in a ceremony at the Mormon Temple and had a reception in the beautiful Lion
House in 1938. I was her only bridesmaid and wore a pretty blue dress that was borrowed and too short
for me. It was a fun wedding.
By the time our family moved to 1156 Lake Street, we were reduced to me, my two brothers and my
parents. Our family became more active in the LDS Church. Dad had become a convert to the LDS
religion when I was 10 years old (in 1927). Soon after Dad’s conversion, Mom and Dad were married
again in the Salt Lake Temple. Mom was active in the Relief Society and Dad became an Elder. One
memory I had about this church was I was wearing this big beautiful red hat in the waiting room after a
wedding ceremony when a man walked clear across the room to tell me I couldn’t wear my red hat. I
felt so bad.
My sister Bertha had moved to California soon after their wedding and her husband had a business that
kept him away from home frequently and so she was alone. Aunt Beulah was living in California and
would visit her frequently. Bertha’s health was deteriorating but her pride wouldn’t let her tell us. She
was spending more time in bed and became a little frightened so she finally sent us a letter asking for
help. We never received the letter. It went crashing in the mountains with an airplane. The plane was
lost for several months in the snow. The letter was finally retrieved but too late. Bertha didn’t
understand why we didn’t respond so we received only a cheerful letter after that. Aunt Beulah became
alarmed one day and called mother on the telephone. Mother packed her bags and left immediately
knowing how fragile Bertha’s health was. A few days later my sister, Merle, followed her. Bertha’s
husband couldn’t be home with her so they brought her home with them to Salt Lake on the train. Our
doctor said her heart was in trouble. She spent four months in bed and then died. She was only 23.
Mother got letters from Bertha’s husband, Leland, until he died.
My mother wanted me to have a wedding reception but nobody could afford the expense. Plans would
change several times. One evening while I was working, I called Wilford and said that at the rate our
wedding plans were being put off, we might just not get married at all. We decided to elope. I told my
parents but they didn’t believe me. My sister, Margaret, and her husband went with us to Farmington
where a marriage could be performed without a license. It was the stroke of midnight and the
courthouse was closed so we drove to Layton, a very small town close by and got the judge out of bed.
He drove back with us to Farmington, opened his courthouse and his chambers and in the dead silence
of night we were married. I had put on my best and most favorite dress which was black. I borrowed
my sister’s wedding ring for the ceremony. She took it off her hand and gave it to me—and I gave it
right back to her after the ceremony. The wedding party tied a string of cans to the back of our car and
it clattered in the streets all the way to my parent’s house. We went home first and told my parents that
we were married. It was by now 2:00 AM in the morning. My Mother wept a little but gave us her
blessing. She also shook her finger at Wilford and said, “You better be good for my little girl!” A
marriage should be unique and something to be remembered and it was such fun. It was the beginning
of a good and happy life with my husband and it lasted 55 years.
On 7 December 1941, while we still lived on Lake Street, our county went to war. It was World War II.
My two brothers, Frank and Dick, had grown up and become handsome, responsible adults. Dick had
married his high-school sweetheart, Elma Adams. They were married on her 17th birthday in October
1942. Dick was drafted in December. After he went to Army school in Brooking, South Dakota, Elma
joined him to Augusta, Georgia where she got pregnant with their first child. Frank was also drafted
and after receiving training, they were both sent overseas to England where they experienced the
horrors of the buzz-bombs. They were huge cigar shaped bombs that were projected from a launch pad
in Germany and would fly high in the air over England. The bombs had a unique sound to them and
when the sound stopped they would fall to the earth and explode and do devastating damage and kill or
injure anyone in the area. Dick was close enough to feel the vibration and hear the sound but he came
home uninjured. By then his son was three years old and had only seen him in photographs.
Both Dick and Frank were involved in occupations in the service that kept them from the front line
fighting. Dick was in the payroll office and Frank was in charge of unit that repaired airplanes that had
been damaged in combat. Dad was not able to go into the service because he had an enlarged heart,
was allergic to wool and had poor eyesight. Frank fell off the wing of a grounded plane and injured his
back. He spent time in a hospital and was sent to Denver, Colorado to recover. He met Naomi Gammel
who was his nurse. They were married less than a week after they met in 1944.
Life on the home front wasn’t easy. We couldn’t purchase any cars, we had very little clothing and
food was scarce. We purchased our food and clothing with allotted stamps. Rubber, copper, silver and
gold were restricted. I remember having to make clothes for the boys out of other old clothing. Coins
were replaced with aluminum money called tokens. I have a jar with a hundred or so “mills” in it.
They are different colors—green, burgundy, orange, but mostly silver. They were tokens that they used
for food during the war. At the time they were equivalent for money.
My parents came to live with us when our daughter, Janice, was five or six. My father was a quiet and
gentle man. He suffered a heart attack while he was working and was unable to return to work again.
They never owned a home so when their income stopped they couldn’t afford the rent. We had
recently purchased our first television set. One of the programs was sponsored by a wine company—
their advertisement included a man offering the wine to their viewers. My Dad would always reach out
his hand to receive it—even though he was not a drinker. He was such a nice person. Mother was
feisty but he was a sweetheart. His heart gave out while he was living with us. He was 64 years old. I
remember it very well. He used to cut the kids hair and he had just cut Roy’s hair. He stooped over to
pick up the hair and grabbed his heart. Mother was fussing over him but she said he would be fine and
shooed us out of the room. We were going to go to the show and Roy didn’t want to go, so I took
Janice and Dale downtown. We had just barely gotten to the movie theatre and they called us out of the
movie and told us that Dad had died. Albert Arthur died on 3 February 1951 in Salt Lake City, Utah.
We had been living in a home at 3183 South 500 West in Bountiful, Utah since 1958. Mother moved in
with us and lived there for most of the time until her death. It was routine when Mom was home with
me, but once she had a stroke at home. Janice rode in the ambulance with her. It was a very scary
experience for us all and especially for Janice. Shortly before her death, she had moved into a nursing
home because she had broken her hip. She was in the nursing home for about five years before her
death. Anna Verna Wilcox Erickson died 28 August 1973 in Salt Lake City, Utah. She was 87 years
old.