My ancestor, Henry Radmall, wrote an autobiography that tells of his conversion and trip from England to Utah. I have included a rather lengthy portion of it. The story begins in late 1848. I hope to give the above mentioned people information about their families and perhaps learn more about their ancestors. The story mentions brother Pratt. By the dates can anyone tell me if it was Orson or Parley? William Nixon employed Henry Radmall. James Yeures helped pay for the passage of Henry's family from England. Henry and family traveled in the Miller Company and shared a wagon with Daniel Allen. He broke a leg which was set by Dr. Johanson and later by Fred Passey. Does anyone know anything of these people? Regards, Brooks M. Wilson by Henry Radmall My Heavenly Father seemed to bless me in all my undertakings and he did bless me now, as all seemed right. But Henry B. Radmall, you in Saint Louis now and your wife and little ones in England and you promised to get them out in the spring. Monday came, to work I went though very sick with the diarrhea. Coming through the hot climate into a cold pork house and being up at nights pretty near used me up. Then my arms got large boils on them. That was worse than all as I had to lift the pork on a block and cut it up then lift it away and so on all day long. I was kept at work until Christmas, then they stopped killing. It was then that I got a job working for William Nixon. This and the other job had kept my board clear and I had obtained a little more than half of the money to bring my family to Saint Louis. I wrote to my wife and directed my letter to Brother Pratt as I did not know just where my wife would be. He opened the letter and read it or what he felt disposed to read. I told my wife that I had little more than half the money but would have it all by the time my letter reached her but it would be too late to send it to her to get her out in the spring as I had promised, so I did not know what to do. Before she could get the money, the emigration to New Orleans would be over. Brother Pratt sent for my wife in a hurry, as it was Sunday morning and he had to go to the meeting and wanted to see her first. She went. He gave her the letter and asked her if she could get ready and go on board the ship Tuesday morning. She said she could, so he told her to go on board the Zetland on the following Tuesday morning. Brother Pratt went to meeting, preached and told the congregation that there was a sister in Liverpool who's husband was in Saint Louis and he wanted someone that was going to Saint Louis to volunteer to pay her and the children's passage and take her to her husband. He told them that if her husband did not pay, then he would. Brother James Yeures, that lived in Salt Lake City, was the one that brought my wife and children to me. I paid him and thanked him, and we had a good time together. I feel very thankful to Brother Pratt to this day, though he is dead and gone. When they got to Saint Louis, the cholera was very bad and as they came up the River Mississippi, they buried forty five. My wife got to me on the 12th of April, 1849. Soon after her arrival, the cholera walked into our house, and my wife had it. It was hard to keep her alive, she did want to die, but with using the ordinances of the Gospel, such as laying on of hands and anointing with oil and other things, we saved her. Soon after this, the cholera laid hold of the oldest girl. I was sent for, and to bring the doctor. I prayed that I might not get him for I did not want any doctor, and my prayer was answered. My thoughts were, "Now, what will you do Mr. Radmall?" It came to me what to do, which was go for the Elders, get a little of the best brandy and a little laudanum, put a little in some brandy, heat some water, put her in a hot bath, then wrap her in a hot blanket. While in the bather, her eyes seemed to raise in her head. I believed they had gone down for death. She was then wrapped in the blanket and put to bed, and in a short time her whole body was in full perspiration for it was in her face like great drops of dew. In a short time, she was on the floor playing and was alright. In a short time, the great fire took place and burned thirty six steamboats and one third of the town, then the cholera seemed to slack up a little, but broke out again and many died. It took two of our children during our stay in Saint Louis. The last one we buried was playing in the street at 3 o'clock and dead by 7 o'clock the same evening. Mrs. Radmall had been sick almost all the time we were trying to save money to come to Salt Lake City. We no sooner got a few dollars ahead but some of the family was sick. In comes the doctor, and out goes our money again, and I think it is no better here now. If any of the family has the bellyache, we send for the doctor, and he comes with a yellow flag, "Two dollars." Serves us right. Shame on us, we as a people ought to know better. We ought to be like Job of old. Read in Chronicles, 13th chapter, 4 verse, also 16 chapter 12 verse of 2 Chronicles and see what that says. After all, a good doctor is very good among the people but hard to find and only makes a good bill. After all our ups and downs, we still tried to get to the Salt Lake Valley. Whether in sickness or health or death, that was our motto and we did accomplish our purpose. One of our good friends by the name of Daniel R. Allen agreed to go in partnership with us in getting equipped for the journey, so we left Saint Louis on 2 May 1853, in Daniel A. Miller's company. We sailed up the river to Saint Joseph and from there we came to a place they called Big Pigeon where there was a tabernacle that one belonged to the Saints. We stopped there for three weeks. On the 6th of June, we made another move to the Missouri River and camped. In two or three days we crossed the river. We all fixed our wagons and started on the journey again. We had not gone far before Brother Allen's wagon broke down and all the company went on and left us. We did not know what to do. We were left there exposed to the Indians and the night coming on. Now all had left us, Brother Allen felt it and so did I. He wanted to go back and ask me if I would go back with him. I told him I did not want to go back as I had left a good situation, and I am going to see the elephant, as the saying goes. About dark, some of the brethren came back after us and we got to camp late that night. Next morning, we came to a river, I think they called Hormo River. There we camped one week, then on to another river they called Elkhorn River, where we camped that night. We started again next morning and had not gone far, when I saw things were not quite right with my wagon. I no sooner got under my wagon than the team started and crack goes my leg. There I was laid on the road in the dust. The good sisters fixed it up and into the wagon I had to go. Then my wife and the other man's wife that was with us, had to be the drivers. The good folks that put the splints on my leg ought to have wrapped some rag around my leg first, but they did the best they knew how. When they unwrapped my leg again, one of the splinters had worked into the flesh, with the shake of the wagon and almost buried in the flesh, and I had to pick it out. We had nothing in camp that would cure it until another company came up. Dr. Johanson was in that company and he let me have some salve that soon cured it, but that's not all. One morning another company comes along. In that company was an English journalist by the name of Fred Passey who had some knowledge of medicines. He had heard about me so he came to my wagon, and ask if he could see my leg. He unwrapped my leg. It looked clean and nice now, but my foot was turned over. He saw at once that it was set crooked. He said nothing, but he got fast hold of my foot and gave one quick, sharp twist and re-broke it, then set it as straight as was possible for him to do. If I had known what he was about, I never should have let him get hold of my foot. But when I understand, I felt to thank him and I thank him to this day. Well, I pass on. One Sunday they were going to hold a meeting and at my request, they took me out of the wagon and put me in a chair. They held a long meeting, but it was not a good time for me. Had I thought or they thought to put my foot up in a chair, it would have been alright, but as it was I have had pain in it more or less from that day to this. The reason was that my foot hung down, the blood ran down in the foot and when I was put back in the wagon and my foot straight up, the blood ran to my heel and burnt as if it was put on the stove, then it gathered and I had a bad foot, but the train went jogging along and I with sorrow, trouble and pain, up the hills and down the dales, until we landed in Salt Lake City. A little before arriving in Salt Lake Valley, one of our oxen died and we had to have a cow with the other ox, so the folks had to do the best they could, but they kept traveling on. At last, I with the train awoke in Salt Lake City, 9 September 1853 after I had been trying it for five years and five months. On arriving in Salt Lake, I had but little left except some sugar, which we traded to some of our friends for other provisions that helped us for a while. I started the journey from Chesterfield, England with my stick in my hand, bundle on my back and landed in Salt Lake on a pair of crutches, so you see, I gained property on the way.