The Physical dimension is only one aspect to a pilgrimage. For one who has attunement to the inner senses there are many more ways of perceiving this world we live in. As we were traveling in Southern Utah we heard many stories of how Brigham Young had “ordered” particular families to come to specific areas to make their homes.
Many of these places proved not to be conducive to successful communities for a variety of reasons; weather, poor land or a native population that was not in favor of having new neighbors. As I continued to hear these stories an oppressive feeling came over me about this dynamic and I felt a soul sickness within; something felt terribly wrong here.
I must say I have been around and known Mormons most of my life and I have a highly favorable opinion about most all the folks I know. But this oppressive, painful experience continued to grow as we travelled west. It came to a head when Carla was reading about an event known as the Mountain Meadow Massacre; we happened to be right in the area it occurred.
The Mountain Meadow Massacre took place September 11, 1857 at the time of Brigham Young and the church’s desire to settle Utah Territory for Mormons was at its height. Young had become more strident in his call for making this area a place for Mormons only. Meanwhile a comparatively wealthy group of pioneers from Arkansas with a large herd of cattle was travelling south in Utah going to California. When the group was in Salt Lake City they were refused re-supply because they were not Mormon, so they were struggling just to make it out of the territory.
A local militia group of Mormons dressed up as Indians and attacked these settlers, probably hoping to steal their cattle. They were recognized as being whites, not Indians, and so they made a terrible decision to cover up the truth. A group of Mormons under a white flag approached the travelers who had been under siege by the “Indians” for five days. The Mormons said they could help the Arkansas pioneers get through the dangerous Indian Territory. The pioneers agreed and allowed themselves to be led into an ambush by the rest of the group and every man, woman and child was killed; one hundred and twenty souls. The only exceptions were those younger than seven and they were adopted into Mormon Families by the very people who murdered their families and stole their belongings. They were just 40 miles from entering California.
There is a long story in all of this, however a Mormon investigator found blame in the murderer’s greed, and the increasingly fiery talk from Brigham Young about the area being only for Mormons. When Carla read this to me it fit exactly the overwhelming feeling I had been having and my discomfort with families ordered here and there by the church hierarchy for the purpose of establishing a territorial claim. Eventually the children incorporated into the Mormon families were found and an effort was made to reunite them with their families in Arkansas.
This is a strange story, something that happened so many years before should be felt so strongly by me now without my having any pre-knowledge of these events. It highlights the fact that whatever is done cannot be done in secret, and it shall be shouted from the rooftops. I have a strong feeling of grief for those innocent travelers and for the terror they went through. I have hesitated in writing this as part of this pilgrimage, but when I awoke this morning I found the story being written in my mind and a strong prompting to make this part of our record.
As we have continued our travels these intuitive feelings of grief have remained but with less intensity. We motored from the lovely Bryce to Zion Canyon. One thing that is very interesting is how different each of these National Parks has been. We entered Zion from the east entrance and marveled at the strange rock formations there, looking like upside-down beehives hundreds of feet tall. We then went through a couple of tunnels, one of them over a mile long with occasional ‘windows’ looking out over steep drop-offs. We then emerged into the south part of the park.
The weather is warmer here, not freezing at night, and we have found ourselves at a lovely campground near the south entrance. We hiked up the trail where the road stops at the canyon’s end called the Temple of Sinawava; we were in awe of the steep cliffs on both sides that eventually narrows to a few feet wide as you proceed up the Virgin River. On another day we drove to Kolob National Park and took a hike to its vistas. Superlatives simply have to give way to silence, for there seems to be one magnificent view after another on this pilgrimage; too many to describe. We continue to enjoy each and every day and look forward to what God will bring to us next.
Health Note: I continue to grow stronger, although each day varies in what I can do and how fast. My blood count has remained steady but below normal, and I have now finished the antibiotics for the stomach; there has been overall improvement. My health seems to be on the right track, just slower progress than I would like. I will now work to improve my stomach health with probiotics.