Chapter One : Part 5

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

(Page 5 of 5)

4. All men who reached the age of eighteen were to be received into the higher priesthood if they also believed the Mormon scriptures, prayed faithfully, obeyed the Word of Wisdom (did not smoke or drink coffee, tea, or alcohol), and pledged to practice plural marriage. These men (also referred to as brethren) were thereby competent to participate in priesthood activities and to get married, lead their families, and receive God's divine revelations.

5. Women were only to marry men who held the priesthood, because no one else could pull them through the veil. Once married, wives had to obey their husbands strictly.

6. The brethren were to be respected and obeyed, their wisdom and dictates never questioned. (After all, they were the vehicles of God's priesthood and served as his mouthpieces.)

7. We were to be loyal to the brethren and protect them from the scrutiny and interference of outsiders at all times. In short, we were never to talk about our fundamentalist brothers and sisters to anyone.

These various components of our gospel may not have been set out for us quite so bluntly, but this was their gist. It was a handy bunch of mandates for safeguarding such a countercultural lifestyle. But sometimes it was an awful lot to put on children.

WHEN I GOT OLDER, my father and four of his wives lived near another large, polygamous family named Kelsch. My association with these kids was mostly on Sundays, when both families met together in the Kelsch home to be taught the gospel.

One particular Saturday morning, seven of Dad's kids took off running to Murray Park, with eight of the Kelsch kids trailing our heels. We wanted to be first in line for free swimming lessons, so we got there early and waited almost an hour for the swimming pool to open.

Finally, a slim, severe-looking woman in a blue one-piece bathing suit unlocked the gate. She instructed us to stay in line and keep the noise down.

Joseph, Mary, and I signed up first. The three of us were now ten years old. Next was my sister Rula, who was twelve, sisters Nan and Norma, who were both eight, and Millie, seven. We seven gave the woman our same address.

This went along pretty well and without incident until the eight Kelsch kids started signing up. Two were six, two were eight, two were ten, and two were twelve. It was then the swimming teacher realized all fifteen kids had only two last names and two addresses. She threw her pen down with an air of authority and said, "Somebody here is trying to be funny. I'll send every one of you home, and you can't swim unless you tell me the truth."

The air went dead. We'd been cautioned never to tell anyone we were polygamists unless it was an emergency. I reasoned instantly that since Mother and Dad couldn't pay for swimming lessons and these were free, the truth had to be told. As far as I could see, this was an emergency.

Acting as spokesperson, I stepped closer to the table. I lowered my voice, trying to avert any more of the uncalled-for attention we'd already received. "L-L-Lady," I stuttered, hoping she was smart enough to understand, "we all have different mothers, but we have the same dad." To avoid further complication, I added, "We really do have the same address. It's the same with these Kelsch kids, and . . ."

She looked more dumfounded with each word I spoke. Picking up her pen, she tilted her head at a quizzical angle and interrupted me midsentence. She pointed to the two ten-year-old Kelsch kids. "You're half brothers?" she asked, astounded. They nodded.

"Now, you two are half brothers, right?" she asked the twelve year olds. They, too, nodded.

She got excited, clearly thinking she'd finally figured this mess out. She thrust her pen at each age group in rapid succession, using it to separate them as she went along. "Now, you're half ?" They nodded. "You're full and you're half?" Her pen went back and forth. Finally, she yelled at little eight-year-old Dale Kelsch, whose mind by this time had wandered onto other things. "Hey, kid, are you full?"

He looked up at her in total earnestness and said in a timid voice, "No, ma'am, I'm hungry."

We all broke up laughing as the lady sat there with a dazed look on her face. Finally, in disgust, she waved her arms, giving us all permission to go into the pool.

After that confusion, I realized why Dad always refused to allow us to call one another half brothers or half sisters. To him, and eventually to us as well, all his children were simply brothers and sisters.

AS I GOT OLDER, I began to stew about some of our fundamentalist doctrines. If Adam was God, for example, whom did he disobey? I was told such questions showed disrespect and a lack of faith. "Be quiet and believe," I would hear from my older brothers and my devout aunt Rhea.

Another time I actually raised my hand in a Sunday school class and asked how it could be that the godly brethren we knew - all of whom were someone's sons - could one day receive their own worlds to populate and rule and at the same time be required to help their fathers to populate theirs.

The question was disallowed, and I learned quickly that our faith had a lot more to do with righteous practice than understanding. My worries turned from the beliefs themselves to how well we were living them. Were we succeeding? And when my turn came, would I know what to do and be able to do it?

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.