While reading more stories from “Reminiscences of Frant and Annie Esplin”, I came across this story which Frant seems to think caused Gordon’s prematurity and possibly his death. He says this accident occurred in late Autumn 1920, so probably September or October, and Gordon was due April 1, 1921 and born prematurely February 1, 1921 so Annie would have been pregnant with him at the time this accident occurred. It is kind of frustrating to know so little about him and not be able to find more. The subject of pregnancy was not discussed (“delicate condition&rdquo is what it was called. His birth was apparently traumatic too, but Frant doesn’t discuss how. Annie discusses the birth and tells the story of what happened in the article titled “Annie Discusses Gordon’s Birth”.

In the late Autumn of 1920, Annie and two young school teachers from Northern Utah had become very good friends. The teachers were Della Brown from Crescent and Mildred Wagstaff from from Halladay. Being away from home for the first time and unaccustomed to life in a little country town like Orderville, they were quick to desire the company of a friendly person like Annie.

Mildred and Della had never seen pinion nuts growing on the tree and were eager for this adventure and to see how coal was mined from the ground; so a trip was arranged where we could do both.

The Croft Brothers had opened up a new coal mine in Deer Hollow. To reach this mine it was necessary to go up a steep, winding road to Cedar Flat. Mother wanted to go and, of course, we had Glenna. We got a wagon box full of coal, some pine nuts and awfully sticky, as the pine sap had not yet frozen. Annie and I sat on a spring seat held in place by iron loops which fit loosely over the edge of the wagon box. The others had a similar seat back of us.

As we began the steep descent down the winding dugway, a bolt in the brake assembly gave way and the load began pushing the horses, who slid on their haunches trying to hold the wagon back. Our speed increased until we came to the first sharp turn in the road, then we left contact with mother earth and landed in a big tree. This stopped us, temporarily, and gave us a chance to scramble from the wagon. Annie jumped from the high seat and I threw Glenna to her. The others scrambled from the back, somehow. The struggling horses and the weight of the wagon had, by this time, broken the tree down so the wagon passed over it, but our breakneck speed had been checked and the wagon and I went on to the foot of the hill over smaller trees and large boulders.
We did not have much coal left in the wagon but the pine nuts, being so sticky, were some of them still in the bags. We were alive, for which we were most grateful.

John Chamberlain was harvesting corn in a nearby field and came running over to help us get somewhat assembled. He said he never expected we would get out of the descent alive. I think we might say we were saved by a big cedar tree -- at least that is the only tangible thing we could thank for our survival.
Annie, Mildred and Della had many happy associations that winter, while I was away with the sheep and we have kept in touch with them by correspondence and very infrequent visits when we lived in Cedar City and since moving to Salt Lake in 1955 we get together on birthday Anniversaries and various occasions.

Annie had a great deal of trouble and down right misery after that, which we attribute to her jump from the high wagon in the tree onto the rocky hillside, until when Gordon was born the following March, [Editor’s note: It was actually February 1] prematurely and unnaturally, only to live one month. In June 1921 she had to have very heavy surgery and repairs, which were followed by pneumonia, and blood clots -- an estimable amount of suffering expense, but we, her family, are most grateful that she lived to bring us five healthy children (five who lived to maturity) and make a happy home, full of love and good cheer.