Jannetta              Husband - Jacob Samuel Ferrin

The third child, but first surviving child: daughter of Robert McBride3rd and Margaret Ann Howard McBride,
whose 2nd husband was Samuel Ferrin

Click here to read the story of Jacob Samuel Ferrin

Children of Janetta & Jacob:

    Janetta Ann Ferrin was born in Church Town, England, on December 24, 1839. The Elders used to stay with her parents and missionary meetings were held at their home, "Mother prepared sacrament for the meetings, I was blessed and named there by Brigham Young. We left Church Town and moved to the Isle of Butte, Scotland, at the age of six years. While living with grandmother (father's mother), both grandmothers were burned to death," At the age of 13, I went to England and at the age of 14 was an apprentice to a dressmaker for two years. Then on May I left on the ship "Horizon" to come to Utah. We had good weather and a good passage all the way over. I landed in Boston on June 30, 1856. We came from Boston by rail. While traveling from Boston to Iowa we passed through Buffalo on the 4th of July. The people were celebrating while we poor emigrants were crowded into box cars. While at Chicago we went swimming in the lake. When we arrived in Iowa, everything was to be ready for us to travel on, but through some mistake, nothing was ready, We walked to company grounds two or three miles away and we walked in heavy rain and waded creeks in mud."
    Three Weeks later the hand carts were ready, so we went on foot three hundred miles to the Missouri river, walking all the way, pushing and pulling those carts. We crossed on ferry boats to Florence and stayed there to fix and prepare our loads for a long journey westward. We traveled mostly through settlements thus far and made the trek in about a month. Florence was about three hundred miles from Iowa City. The people were in bad conditions, also their handcarts so it was decided to stay awhile. On the 5th of August we again started on a 1000 mile journey. Civilization was left behind and we began a march through the wilderness. Each cart had baggage for seven persons, 17 pounds each and 100 pounds of flour, tents and poles, cooking utensils, and children who could not walk were scattered among the carts. Father’s cart didn't have a tent and there were seven of us. We had three carts to begin with. Mother took sick soon after leaving Florence and was sick all the way. The hardships became more severe as we were getting into the mountains and many lost their lives.
    The Indians came to camp soon after we left Fort Laramie but made no trouble. Father died here and 13 were buried in one grave, and the weather was calm, cold and snowing the night they died, but hunger and exposure was the cause of their death. At the upper crossing of the Platt river we had just one-fourth pound of flour for each of us a day, and only enough to last three days; this was all the food we had. I stayed in camp until teams began to come from Salt Lake to meet us. We then traveled from Platt River to Devils Gate and here the women, children and sick were carried across the river (Sweet River) and the teams began to meet us at Greasewood Springs. The first teams that met us were driven by Joseph A. Young and two other men, who met us at the upper crossing, and told us, if we would to meet them at Greasewood Springs, teams would meet us there. We thought we could make it, but we were five days getting there as the snow and mud was so bad, and only three teams were there when we arrived.
    They had no supplies, but others began to come so they got help at Devils Gate. They reached this place the first week in November, and about one fourth of the company left their bones on the trail, and of the ones left some of them were disabled, fingers and toes frozen and a lot were sick. Their movements became mechanical and they pulled their carts from force of habit with no hope for the future. At Devils Gate, on Sweetwater it was discussed whether to go on or stay in the mountains until the teams were rested and snow melted. But help came, and the Saints were glad to get what provisions were available, but it was only a drop in the bucket to what they needed. The carts were abandoned at this place, as they could not take them farther. Some had to walk as there were not teams enough to take all. They walked up the steep mountain barefoot with snow two to three feet deep. Mother walked part of the way behind the wagons. They camped at Fort Bridger several days to rest the teams that came to meet them. There were four men in father’s group when they started and not one of them reached Salt Lake alive. George P. Waugh, a missionary who had been to Scotland died at the foot of Big Mountain and his body was taken to Salt Lake for burial. We reached Salt Lake City on November 30, 1856.
    Mother and brothers (Heber, Ether and Peter), sister Margaret and myself all reached Salt Lake City and alive.
    When Johnston's army came to Utah and tried to oust the Mormons, my brother Heber and I and also my six weeks old baby, Fidelia, left Ogden and went to Provo, where I stayed until July. We had a team of two cows and a horse on lead, the cows had calves, which would lag behind and worry their mothers, while the old gray horse wanted to be led or else leave the road. My husband was left at Ogden on detail, so if the army came our men could burn the houses and everything. Our homes were saved, and later that year we started for Arizona and I drove a team all the way with baby Charley on my arms.
    My husband was in the sawmill and blacksmith business in Pleasant View in 1870, and in 1880 we started for Arizona and landed in Pima on January 5,1882. It was here we settled down, built a home and went through all kinds of trials and hardships of pioneer life on the frontier. My life was stricken with sorrow at the untimely death of my husband who was killed by the Indians on the San Carlos Reservation, while freighting from Wilcox to Globe. A friend brought his body home, and our family had to take up the threads of life and go it alone. Jacob was killed July 19, 1882 so he didn't have much time to get his family settled and ready to care for them. A family of 11 children, three of them married in Utah, the other eight of them came to Pima with their parents. I was a good seamstress and got much sewing to do, the boys all found work so the family did very well, and the children stayed true to the gospel all their lives; grew up, married, and most of them settled down to live in Pima.
    "When I was a child I was in poor health, so my father took me to Scotland to stay with my grandparents, thinking it might help me as they lived close to the sea," My mother came the next year and since there was no branch of the Church there we belonged to the Glasco Conference. We were the only Mormons on the island, but the elders from Glasco often came to see us, and we often went to Glasco to their meetings. I got some schooling there, and when I was eight years old the school was run by the Presbyterian church, and our studies were in the bible and father always instructed me, if I got any wrong ideas, I had to learn the catechism. When I was nine years old I was baptized in the river Clyde on New Years Eve, and there was ice on the rivers edge, for we had to go in the night, Brother William Budge and others were baptized at the same time. I went from Scotland to England on a visit and we went on a Steamer from Greenoch to Fleetwood, and there to Preston on the train, that was the first railroad I ever did ride on. While in Preston I attended meetings in the old cockpit where the Saints were holding services. From there we went to Church Town, then back to Scotland, where I stayed until I was twelve years old when we moved back to Southport, and there was a branch of the church and we were in the Liverpool Conference. We had to go along the seashore several miles to the church house where the meetings were held. My father was secretary of the branch and our house was the home of the elders, I stayed with a lady and learned the dressmaking trade."
                                        Partly from Delsa Davis McBride research.

    Janetta’s married life with Jacob Ferrin was one of thrift and industry, coupled with a devotion to Church affiliation. Not unlike others in those early days in Utah, the struggled together at farming and related occupations to raise a large family. During the next twenty-four years their family grew to eleven children, six boys and five girls. They moved to Arizona soon after the birth of their last child, and by this time the three older children had married and they remained in Utah.
    Though only forty-three years old at the time of her husband’s death, Janetta lived a long and productive life, serving her Church and community. In her tidy house, always open to visitors, tasty food was readily served to welcome guests. A great grand-daughter, Delsa Davis McBride, has this to say about memorable visits:
    My great-grandmother, Janetta Ann McBride Ferrin was a sweet grandma whom we all loved to visit, ----My mother (Ethel Davis) took us there quite often to spend the day. Grandma would have delicious loaves of bread, and fruit she had canned to feed us for lunch. There was always plenty of milk to drink with our lunch. My childhood memories are of grandma wearing a white waist apron. It was gathered in front on a band and tied in back. I never remember seeing her without her apron when we visited.
    Several time Janetta made the trip to Utah to visit her children and their families and to do temple work. Beloved by all, she died Dec. 29, 1924, at 85 years. The little girl who pulled a hand cart hundreds of miles across plains and mountains was finally laid to rest in Pima Arizona, and she left a legacy of her lovely disposition and beautiful life for all of us to follow, even against great odds. 


You came-----
Not one who found crude comfort
In tented wagon train.
But one who braved, unsheltered,
Dark storms upon the plain.

Your task-----
To push and pull a handcart
Was not one borne with ease.
You, but a tender, wispy lass,
Found strength upon your knees.

Your feet-----
Left tortured, crimson footprints
Upon the snowy sod—
Not only found a homeland.
But tracked a path to God.

You left-----
A legacy of virtue
Of love, of joy, of sorrow—
Deep wells of testimony
To fill each child’s tomorrow.

We live-----
To grace the blessed memory
Of you who spanned the years
To touch the hand of God
And seal our love with tears.
By: Earline Cluff Layton
Written as a tribute to her
Janetta Ann McBride Ferrin