Chapter One : Part 3

Shattered Dreams; My Life as a Polygamist's Wife
by Irene Spencer

(Page 3 of 5)

As they approached the construction area, Mother saw a man with a wheelbarrow coming in their direction. She received a premonition and exclaimed to the kids, "I know that whatever that man is dumping on the ground is the answer to our prayers!" My siblings waited quietly while the man returned to his garage, then came back out with his wheelbarrow full a second time. He dumped the contents on top of the first load and then went back inside. He hadn't seemed to notice the little clan standing by, stomping their feet and eyeing his debris. Mother waited about ten minutes, until she was satisfied the man had completed his job. She had no clue what he had deposited, but she knew it would soon be hers.

When she thought it safe, they made a run for it. Mother wanted to cry with joy as she knelt before the heap. Sure enough, God gave us heavenly manna - a magnificent pile of dirty, sprouting potatoes. If she managed it right, this windfall would feed Dad's family for two full weeks. The gleeful kids loaded up their paper bags. Mother instructed them to walk the potatoes home slowly so the bags wouldn't tear open and scatter our treasure down the street. They should then return to the potato pile with our empty wicker baby buggy and two strong gunnysacks, being extra quiet on the way back so as not to draw the attention of any of our nosey, monogamous Mormon neighbors. Mother couldn't bear letting those disapproving tongue-waggers see us scrounging out such a minimal existence.

But the emotions of the three hungry children ran high. They made a clatter probably heard for a block as they raced along behind the ragged buggy, preoccupied with tantalizing visions of hot potato soup.

THE MORMON CHURCH SLOUGHED off many of its basic beliefs beginning late in the nineteenth century, largely under pressure from the civil authorities who outlawed the practice of polygamy, which many Mormons considered integral to their faith. For a brief time after 1890, when they issued the first manifesto renouncing plural marriage, even some of the church leaders continued to privately profess and practice the Principle. They had sent believers to form polygamist colonies across the western United States and as far away as Mexico with orders to safeguard the faith. But political pressures eventually prevailed. A second manifesto, in 1904, ended the practice of polygamy within the Mormon Church, now called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or just Latter Day Saints (LDS). The command to live plural marriage was suspended; LDS men were to have only one wife.

Torn between God's law and man's law, those who refused to give up plural marriage had to go into hiding. Some of them fled to Mexico; others went underground within their own communities. Despite the transformed doctrines of the LDS Church, these spiritual refugees considered themselves the true Mormons, the faithful followers of Joseph Smith and his initial converts. Their mission now was urgent - to preserve the faith in a time of dark apostasy. More than ever, they believed, the Principle must be lived and lived strictly. Known as fundamentalists, we were their descendents.

By the time I came along, fundamentalist Mormons were a huge embarrassment to the LDS Church. And the fundamentalists, in turn, both resented and envied the LDS. We considered ourselves the chosen ones, the pure in heart, the true "Zion." And the LDS, having abandoned the Principle, were merely worldly. In a way they were worse than the world, since they'd once known the light and gave it up. We prayed for their return.

In the meantime, we hid. And while we hid, we had to eat and breathe the Principle, continually pumping ourselves up in it so we could withstand the world and the church thinking it wrong. We shielded ourselves from outside influences and tried hard to value persecution as proof of our righteousness. One form persecution took was exclusion from our own temple, the temple the prophet Brigham Young (successor to Joseph Smith) longed to see finished throughout the years he'd faithfully lived and taught plural marriage. The only polygamists ever allowed in now were those masquerading as LDS members or who had not yet personally acted on the Principle.

Yes, the LDS apostates chose the easy path, leaving us to slink about in the shadows. And then they had the nerve to treat us as undesirables.

HOW WELL I STILL remember my first day of school. Before that morning, I'd only left the Farm to visit the homes of family friends, to go to Sunday meetings (also at friends' homes), and on one very special occasion, to attend a family picnic at Murray Park. The expedition to Lincoln Elementary School would be my debut into the world - an event mandated by the state, anticipated by me, and feared by my family. The adults in our household worked hard to prepare us.

"You are the special, chosen ones," they told us even more often than usual. "Very few of your classmates will be children of the covenant, so you'll have to be careful of them. Don't let them influence you. Don't listen to their talk or play their games or read their books. Remember, you are chosen; you must keep yourselves pure.

"Now, don't feel bad if they call you names. We have to welcome persecution. It just proves you're the chosen ones, not them.

"Oh, and don't talk to anyone about the Principle."

When the time came, we - the eldest thirteen of the twenty-one children born to my father thus far - left our fourplex in a pack and began the trek to the school. I walked between Joseph and Mary, holding their hands, as excited as we were united. The three of us had all turned five and were going to begin kindergarten. I had on my new, blue and white checkered dress (homemade from printed flour sack material), my brother Richard's worn tennis shoes that were a size too big, and ribbons in my braided hair.

Our older siblings told us younger ones to walk fast and ignore the insults from the teenage kids who ran past, throwing rocks at us and yelling, "Ha, ha, there go the pligs!" I didn't understand what "plig" meant (it was short for "polygamist"), but by the way my brothers and sisters acted, I knew it must be a dirty word. It was a label I'd be branded with for years to come. Knowing myself to be a "special child of God," I was always left to wonder why these kids would be so cruel to me.

Copyright © 2007 Irene Spencer

About the Author

Irene Spencer came from four generations of polygamy. As the second of ten wives, she was the mother of 14 of her husband's 58 children. Her captivating story provides an intimate look at the daily struggles Irene faced as a plural wife.