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We used to stay at Uncle Edward Stevenson's in the 14th Ward. I remember as a boy, driving my mother and some other ladies to the city. At a dinner I was the only male present. They asked me to bless the food and I was nearly frightened to death. Perhaps my parents were a little neglectful about having us children take part in blessing the food and in family prayers.

As a boy, I learned to milk cows at the age of six years. I commenced on a little red cow known as Stub and Twist. Later I took more pride in tending the horses and riding them to the pasture. One of my early remembrances is riding a mule to the field. I expected him to wade the creek but instead he jumped it, and I fell off. I sprained my wrist and arm and was taken to Johnathan Smith, who pulled on my hand and I heard the wrist bones go back into place. Because of this bad fall and a later one I was left with two rather large wrists.

Returning to the subject of cattle, I remember one fall, a cow and a calf came in from the range quite late. My father told me that if I would take good care of them until spring, I might have the heifer calf. I kept track of her and her progeny, and soon had quite a herd. It is surprising how stock will increase in a few years.

Another of my early recollections, was of my brother Ezra James, the oldest son of my mother's large family. He was always very considerate of me. One day when but a little chap I fell off a wagon. He picked me up and was so kind me that I never forgot him. These are but a few incidents that I can remember about him. One was the commotion in the home when he left by wagon to cross the plains en route to England on a mission. That must have been about 1865. He was in England three years. He had crossed the ocean on his way home with a company of immigrants. While helping them load their bags and trunks at New York, he suffered a sunstroke. He died on the train and was buried in new York State. After the railroad was completed in 1869, father went