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Another
Witness of the Light:
The Museum of Church
History and Art Showcases
Two Twentieth Century Photographers
by Scot Facer Proctor
George
Edward Anderson and Scot Facer Proctor
Gallery
Four: Images of Zion-the Missouri Period
Introduction
If you haven't read or at least looked at the other three galleries
that we've published this is a good time for a review--guaranteed
to lift and inspire you.
It has been
such a privilege to display my photographs in the Museum of Church
History an Art side by side with my companion of the early part
of the twentieth century, George Edward Anderson, or George Edward
as I affectionately call him.
I started studying
the works of George Edward about a quarter century ago and have
never stopped. He did an important work in his time-a work that
has personally blessed me to come to know the Church historical
sites and the sacred places of the Restoration more thoroughly than
would have been possible without his images. I thank George Edward
for that and hope that my work will also bless generations to come-not
only the few images shared in these brief galleries but the untold
thousands of images in my own personal archives. With each passing
year those photographs become more and more of a reminder and a
record of the past.
Shooting
Missouri
Missouri is a fascinating place. I am not sure how George Edward
felt when he photographed the Missouri sites-probably a bit scared,
to tell you the truth. Even when we first moved to Missouri in 1957
there were Mormon haters living on our very street. Most of that
has changed now. Our family lived there 27 years--and I call it
home, though I am not an official born-native. I always tell people
whom I lead through the Missouri sites the following:
"Missouri is
the place where you can see less and feel more than any other place
in Church History."
And so it is.
Go and visit Far West in that obscure location in Caldwell County.
What can you see there? Once it was a bustling community with homes
and shops, a people trying to build Zion. Now all that remains--as
if the people had been swept clean from the place-- are four large
stones, now covered with glass, that mark the corners of a never-finished
temple. What else? Nothing. You can see the endless rolling fields
and the trees that grow so quickly, but relics and touchable items
from the past? Nothing. The absence of any indication that they
were speaks for itself. The best thing to do in Far West is just
sit there and read the scriptures, read the histories, and think
and pray. Then you'll be able to see everything more clearly.
Finding
the Cemetery at Far West
When we were first out shooting Far West for our book Witness
of the Light, we had been searching for something to photograph
more than endless trees and fields. In some records, we came upon
an 1875 interview with one of the remaining Whitmer brothers who
talked of the old cemetery that lay just one mile west of the town
of Far West that was reported to contain the remains of about 350
Saints. Ah ha! A cemetery! Now, that has some character and some
texture. We determined to find the cemetery and shoot some of the
old tombstones of the early Saints. Now, I had been coming to Far
West since the early 1960's, and I had not remembered a cemetery,
but there it was in bold print in the 1875 newspaper.
We were in our
Suburban, and we calculated both the center of the town of Far West-the
Temple-and the outskirts on the western side and tried to place
the cemetery a mile west and between those two points of beginning.
With that scant information, we began our search, carefully driving
through fields and small roads through woods looking for any remaining
hint of a cemetery. We kept wondering where the Saints would place
a cemetery. "Well," we thought, "it had to be on higher ground and
would likely overlook something." We kept looking and looking for
some hours.
During the
search, Maurine and I said aloud, "What could really depict this
Far West period-the pain and anguish of a people who were turned
upon by their own state militia and then driven from their homes?"
Just then, as if on cue, this enormous storm cloud boiled up from
the horizon on the west. It was so ominous and so overpowering in
its appearance, we knew this was our answer. There were storm clouds
of trouble forming all around Far West in the fall of 1838. Here
was the perfect symbol for the time. We set up the big Pentax on
the tripod in the middle of the field and fired away. Those pictures,
though not included in the Museum of Church History and Art gallery,
have thrilled audiences all over the country, just like they thrilled
us the moment we took them.
Though we had
recorded these boiling clouds, we were determined still to find
the cemetery. We headed north on an old gravel road that paralleled
the main paved road and lay about one mile west of the town site.
We pulled up to the farmhouse to the east and I got out to talk
to the farmer. As I approached him, I guess I just had that look
on my face. He said in a deep Missouri drawl, "You look like you
need some seed corn.," "Nope (I was tempted to slip into my Missouri
drawl, but I refrained). I am looking for an old cemetery around
here that used to belong to the Mormons." He pointed up the road
and across to the west, "Yep, it's right up there by the old school
house. Used to be there. Got plowed under 'bout four years ago."
I was elated and in shock. We had found it, but plowed under? Who
would plow a cemetery?
Maurine and
I and the baby drove the last few hundred yards up the hill to the
north. We pulled over and got out. There was, as it were, a 'rain'
of silence. We walked out across the field and into the midst of
where the cemetery used to be-we could feel the spirits of those
whose remains had been placed there. As we listened, it was as if
they were saying, "Don't forget us. Don't let our lives and our
sacrifices be in vain." The Spirit was so strong we could hardly
take it in. We have since verified and re-verified that this is
indeed the cemetery. We have found corners and chips of gravestones
every time we have visited there. We only shot one frame there--also
not included in this gallery.
These experiences,
I believe, are there for the asking whether or not you are a photographer
looking to capture a picture or any of us wanting to see more. I
believe that the Lord wants to bless each one of us with the things
after which we seek-whatever they are. I know He has helped us again
and again and the photographs He gives us are His.
Missouri
Gallery
Click
to Enlarge
This is the
only hand-held picture in Witness. All the rest of them
were taken on the tripod. I had obtained the services of a goodly
old RLDS man who knew the historical sites of western Missouri.
Following him, I felt obligated to go at his pace, and concerned
about using so much of his time, when we finally arrived at this
place where Zion's Camp had been when the enormous storm broke loose
that broke up the mobs, I just pulled out the camera, shot three
or four frames and we went on. It is called Fishing River. This
isn't a particularly beautiful shot, but it is accurate to the place.
Joseph, Heber, Wilford ,and Brigham and others all stayed here.
You can still feel that. By Scot Facer Proctor, 1990.
Click
to Enlarge
From this location
on Tower Hill at Adam-ondi-Ahman you can see a gorgeous view of
the great valley below. Here at Adam-ondi-Ahman we have had as many
spiritual experiences with our tour groups as any other place on
the nearly 3,000 mile trek. Adam-ondi-Ahman is not just a special
place-it is a place prepared for the return of Jesus Christ. And
He will come. And if you go there in the right spirit-you can feel
it. By Scot Facer Proctor, 1990.
Click
to Enlarge
This was the
first picture I took for the book Witness-significant because
this is the overlook of the valley of Adam-ondi-Ahman in Daviess
County, Missouri. I was nervous that morning, wondering if I could
be adequate to fulfill the project I had undertaken-to capture the
significant sites of Church history in a way that would help tell
the story. During the shoot, we slept every night in the back of
the Suburban with the baby in her little carrier on top of the cooler.
The Suburban actually made for quite a comfortable bed, but that
night I didn't sleep well, because I felt the weight of the project
upon my heart and soul. I was out of the car and had the camera
set in place by about 4:30 A.M. There wasn't a beaker-full of light
by that time, but I waited and waited and prayed. The photo here
was taken during the first 30 seconds of burst of sunrise that hit
the scene below me. I just kept snapping away. I love this picture
because it so represents the process of my own heart. By Scot Facer
Proctor, 1990.
George Edward's
Photographs:
Click
to Enlarge
This is near
the Battle of Crooked River in northern Missouri. David Patten,
the president and senior member of the Twelve apostles, was killed
here as were two other members of the Church and a Missourian. George
Edward has placed two men in the foreground and two men in the background
of this carefully composed picture. The river acts as a boundary
between the Church and the enemies of the Church. Here my own great
great grandfather, Joseph Holbrook, participated in the battle and
received a sword wound he would carry all of his life. The battle
that took place here on October 25, 1838, would lead to the expulsion
of the Saints from Missouri. By George Edward Anderson, 1907.
Click
to Enlarge
Rare view of
the original 63.27 acres of the Temple site in Independence, Jackson
County, Missouri. Characteristic of George Edward, he has placed
a man in the mid foreground reading some item of literature. More
than today, one can see here the raw nature of the land where the
great complex of temples will be built for the New Jerusalem. I
love this picture. I could study it for hours. By George Edward
Anderson, 1907.
Click
to Enlarge
A gathering
of the Saints in Missouri at the Temple Lot at Independence. This
photo was taken 94 years ago, just three years before President
Gordon B. Hinckley would be born. Likely all the people in this
picture, including the little girl on her father's knee are dead
and gone. "Carpe' Diem" I seem to hear blowing in the wind: Seize
the day. I think George Edward, in a symbolic way, was reminding
us of the great gathering of Saints that will someday be in the
land of Missouri. By George Edward Anderson, 1907.
Click
to Enlarge
Here a man and
his dog stand pointing their faces toward the old cabin site of
where Joseph and Emma Smith were living in Far West. This is a classic
picture of Far West-looks about the same in George Edward's day
as it does in our day--barren, stark, beautiful, and empty-except
for the feelings that linger here. By George Edward Anderson, 1907.
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