Welcome to the James Alva Hendricks Family Blog

Throughout my life I have always been proud to be a Hendricks and to know so many of you. I have tried to live up to those who have gone before us, sacrificing so much so we could live where we live and have the things we have. We are all blessed with such a rich family history, preceded by so many people. This blog is a place where we can collect and share favorite family pictures, stories and memories of who we are. Please feel free to visit as often as possible and if there are things you want to add or correct, please contact any of the contributors listed on the right side panel. Desmond Tutu once said, "You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them. Let us take the time and remember ours together. Mike



Sunday, April 22, 2012


MaryLois VanLuven (Van Leuven) Clifford Ione's great grandmother.  The line goes Ione - George Oscar - Sarah Jane Clifford - Mary Lois Van Leuven Clifford.
I just found a few autobiographies in some of my Dad's papers.  I will post them as I get them typed.  


Autobiography of Mary Lois VanLuven Clifford
First typewritten copy made May 25, 1915

            I was born in Upper Canada, in the town of Leborow, May 25 1834.  I was the second child of Ransom and Lucinda Harvey VanLuven.  They moved to Kirtland, Ohio when I was three weeks old, and there they helped in building the Kirtland Temple.  Also, they went through the many trials and hardships with the Saints at that time.  We moved from there to Morgan County, Illinois, and from there to Iowa.  From there we started with the Saints to the Valley, when I was eighteen years of age, in Captain Wimmer’s company in the year of 1852.

            My mother was blind from sun stroke.  She went blind on the plains.  There were eleven of us in the family.  The youngest a boy, was born on the plains just two weeks before we got to the Valley.  We came by ox teams, and I with others walked most of the way.  We arrived in Salt Lake City in time for October conference. 

            We went from there to North Ogden, where I became acquainted with John Price Wriston, one of the Mormon Battallion.  I was married to him December 15, 1852.  We went by that name until we went through the Endowment House and there Bro. Kimball advised my husband’s father to take his own father’s name, which was Elisha Clifford.  He had been raised by his stepfather whose name was Wriston, (his own father having been killed when Elisha was a boy).  So all the family, in fact all of them for two generations had all gone by that name until the year of 1852.  They took the name of Clifford when they went through the Endowment House.  Brother Kimball told them by all means “To take your own name, for Clifford is a good name, and don’t lose it that way.”

            We then moved to Box Elder which is now Brigham City, in 1853.  My husband, with others, was called out to stand guard to prevent the soldiers from entering the valley.  We went through a great many trials as our men had to be out all winter.  Clothing in those days was very scarce.  We women took all the old stockings we could get and unraveled them and wove them with cotton wrap and all the woolen blankets we could get to make coats and pants and overcoats to keep them from freezing.  Then in the spring we were called to leave our homes and go farther south as the soldiers had by this time gotten into the valley, and it was not safe for so few to stay in their homes without forts. 

            We went down to Springville, and there I had one of the greatest frights on my life with the Indians.  My husband, with others was up in the Canyon getting out timber to get a few dollars for food and clothing.  While they were gone, word came for us to take our children and what little we could carry and go to a log house that was not far away.  That was the only building there at the time.  Word had been received that two thousand Indians with Eagle Eye as their chief were coming to try and kill us all and burn our camps.  So we all hurried there, but not half could get inside.  What men there were, stood on guard at night, expecting every moment to hear the dreaded war whoop of the Red Man.  How fervently we all united in prayer.  At last the long dreadful night passed, and they told us then that the danger was over and that we could go back to our wagons.  Our prayers were heard and answered and we went back with thankful hearts that our lives had been spared.  Then we got word to go back to our homes in Brigham City.  Then, oh what shouts of joy arose.  It was Home Sweet Home again. 

            When we arrived at our home, there was enough volunteer wheat for our bread that winter.  We cut it with a cradle and threshed it with a flail. 

            My husband was an Indian Interpreter, and we had a great many exciting experiences with the Indians.  He was called away all hours of the day and night to go and make peace with the Indians, and to recover the stolen property.  I have often cooked cakes for thirty and thirty-five Indians before I had my own breakfast.  There are other experiences too numerous to mention. 

            We next moved to Providence, Cache County, Utah, where we lived for twenty five years.  Thence to Clifton, Oneida County, Idaho.  We lived there for four years. 

We then moved to Gentile Valley, since called Mound Valley, and Perry Ward, (I think this is Soda Springs, Idaho) where I lived until all my children were married, and my husband died at the age of seventy six. 
Then I sold my place and came to Smithfield, Cache County, Utah sixteen years ago, where I have lived up to the present time.  I am eighty one years old today, and feel thankful to my Heavenly Father that I am still permitted to enjoy the blessings that he has blessed me with, for I have many things to be thankful for. 

I am the mother of seven children, six of them are living and I have fifty-eight grandchildren, and seventy great grandchildren, and five great great grandchildren.  My greatest desire is that they may all live to be true Latter-day Saints.  It has always been my desire to do the will of my Heavenly Father and I pray that we may all continue to do so to the end of our journey here and all be reunited again after this life is over.
Is the sincere wish of
Mary Lois VanLuven Clifford.

P.S.  Mary VanLuven Clifford died December 10, 1919 at Preston, Idaho at the home of her daughter Rosa A. Sant.  She was buried December 12, 1919.  She was buried December 12, 1919 at Treasureton, Franklin County, Idaho.

Retyped from copy originally typed by her great grand daughter, Orella Sant Bunce, March 8, 1931.  Typed on Word by her great great great granddaughter Stacey Hendricks Goodman 2012.