46 Josie Cluff

Despite his mourning Ollie, Andrew’s large family of children needed a mother.⁷⁵¹ He soon began courting Josephine Cluff, who was the same age as Ollie and a friend of both. She lived just a block away.

In 1880, Josie had married William Wallace Jones, a rancher and miner, and had borne him a daughter and a son. The daughter, Eliza Arnetta Jones (“Nettie”), born in 1882, was married to David Dee Phillips and had a baby. They also lived in Thatcher, nearby. Josie’s son, William Wallace Jr., was born in 1884, and at the time of Ollie’s death was away mining in South America. Josie and her husband divorced in 1894, and she had their temple sealing annulled in 1896. Josie came to Thatcher in 1889, while separated, because a number of related Cluff families lived in Gila Valley. In 1892 she began to teach at the academy and later served as its matron. Nettie eventually had seven children; Wallace, divorced, had none.

Josie had filled a mission to the Central States from May 1904 to October 1905 as one of the first unmarried lady missionaries in the Church.⁷⁵²

Josie as academy matron.

Josie was a small woman, said by one source to be just five feet tall and of slight build. She weighed 115 pounds according to her 1918 voter registration form, and she wore size two shoes. As an actress she could take child roles. She was very intelligent and industrious, talented, and highly respected, and she was an excellent homemaker. It is family lore that before Ollie’s death she had urged Andrew to marry Josie.⁷⁵³

Others thought the match obvious. A letter to Andrew, five weeks after Ollie’s death, concludes, “Give my love to all your family and to sister Cluff. I do hope she will be a comfort to you in this trial.”⁷⁵⁴

Five months after Ollie’s death, Andrew and Josie agreed to marry.⁷⁵⁵ Some criticized such an early remarriage, but President Joseph F. Smith gave his answer: “[When a family loses its mother,] the idea that one should spend years, or any definite or indefinite time to mourn the loss of the loved departed, is only a notion born of supersensitiveness, mixed with worldly traditions, and can only be harmful.”⁷⁵⁶ In June they went to Salt Lake City to marry. Andrew wrote of the trip in his journal:

June 3, 1907 Very busy getting ready to go away from home. Closing up business matters. Helen very sick with what seemed to be Billious fever. Very anxious. My councilers came in and we concluded I had better go. We administered to Helen.

June 4, 1907. Broken rest, up and down with sweet Helen. Fever broke and prospects favorable for her immediate recovery. At 10:07 a.m. took train for Salt Lake accompanied by Josephine. . . .

June 6, 1907 Arrived in Salt Lake early P.M. I got Josie ticket and started her off to Ogden. I went to home of my sister Alice. . . .

June 7, 1907 I attended Conference. . . .

At home Rachel had contracted diphtheria. Clare reported, “She was so bad she just rolled from one end of the bed to the other. Gordon took father’s team and drove to Safford for the local doctor, a Dr. Platt. He just raced the horses but when the doctor got there he could do nothing for her.”⁷⁵⁷

Andrew described what happened next

June 8, 1907 Josie and I . . . attended Conference. Josie at Assembly Hall, I at Barrett Hall. After opening at 2 o.c. I was called out. Alice handed me the telegram, an announcement of death of my Rachel. ‘Rachel died eleven thirty five Diphtheria croup Helen some better. C M Layton’ Terrible shock as I was expecting word from Helen [who was recovering from a fever when they left Thatcher]. Alice and I went to President Smith at Beehive house. He was very sympathetic. Advised that I get married and go home tonight. Alice went to Assembly hall for Josephine . . . Alice took Josie and I to Court House where we got our license. [T]o Temple at 9 o.c. Pres. Smith loaned me his Temple suit. About 9 p.m. we, Josephine and I, were married by Pres. Joseph F. Smith, Adolph Madson and Duncan McAllister witnesses. Alice K. Smith, Millie Wardrop, and Mary Wallace were present also. Carriage took us to Alice’s where we had supper and got ready to go. [Train] started [for home] at 11:50 p.m.

Josie wrote to her sister, June 23, 1907, about the distressing circumstances of the wedding. She understandably felt deep regret that her marriage should be blemished by the tragedy.⁷⁵⁸

Upon arriving in Thatcher, Andrew found that, contrary to his instructions to go ahead and bury Rachel, her body had been embalmed and awaited a funeral. Because they feared spread of the disease, Rachel’s body remained at home while her funeral took place in the meetinghouse. Helen continued still very ill, as were Clare’s two children.

The marriage started off awkwardly in another respect. Soon after returning home Andrew wrote a critical letter to his sister Alice, “I am quite sure from your actions you did not like Josephine very well.” Alice retorted that she had done nothing to justify such a conclusion, and, further, “I thought she was very cool and so did the children.”⁷⁵⁹

They all needed a time of adjustment. The children differed in how they referred to Josie; there could be only one “Ma.” The three youngest now called her “Mother,” Ruth called her “Auntie.” The older children called her “Aunt Josie.”

Andrew and Josie in a playful mood.

Josie was more meticulous about housekeeping and clothing than their mother had been, and Josie expected the children to conform strictly to her standards.⁷⁶⁰ According to Dell he left home because he could not stand to have Aunt Josie take his mother’s place, and it hurt him to see how she treated the little girls, Alice and Helen.⁷⁶¹ A granddaughter of Josie’s called her a high-strung, nervous person, strict but fair. She “had to have all the buttons on the shirt and everything in its place. Clothes had to be immaculate, scrubbed, starched, summer or winter.”⁷⁶²

Another of Andrew’s granddaughters called Josie “ramrod straight, dressed stylishly and well, had a quick, often sharp tongue, but was gifted in many ways. She was an excellent manager, an immaculate housekeeper, a determined woman who knew that as Andrew’s wife she could help him immeasurably.”⁷⁶³

An obituary characterized her with surprising candor as a woman of nervous temperament, full of vigor and push. It said she had a rather high-strung temper, but controlled herself very well. She had outstanding dramatic ability and presented a very pleasing appearance. She could hold her own, as she had a ready comeback to anyone who tried to get the best of her: “She was exacting as she was willing to be exacted of. She loved dearly and was a true friend but woe unto one who deceived her or was not loyal to her devoted friendship.” She lacked a softness and flexibility. She seemed to be more demanding than loving. But another who knew her well characterized her as charming, having a keen sense of humor, and being the life of any party.⁷⁶⁴

Her relationship with Dell seems to have been particularly difficult. At sixteen it was hard for Dell to accept the new arrangement.⁷⁶⁵ Nearly seventy years later Dell had extremely harsh words for her: “Josie was a wretched woman. In every way physically she was a dropout, except housekeeping, cooking. I know more than you others about her lousy treatment of Dad. She was cold, pigish, jealous, made his life a hell. He was deserving, qualified to become an apostle. She was the cause of his not making an apostle.”⁷⁶⁶ No one else expressed such extravagant criticism, so it calls for serious discounting, particularly when at other times Dell referred to her fondly. For example, in a 1922 letter Dell addressed her as “Mother” and wrote a long, sweet letter, hard to reconcile with his later harsh words.⁷⁶⁷

Dell fathered a son, Theo, when he was nineteen. The unmarried mother died in childbirth. Spencer said much later, “I have the impression that our father wanted Aunt Josie to take the boy into our home, but she refused to do so.” This suggests another reason for Dell’s antipathy.⁷⁶⁸ On the other hand, Dell also described the situation more generously: “I realize it would have very much been wrong to have had Aunt Josie assume such a responsibility. There was no reason why she should.”⁷⁶⁹

What should be done with the child? Josie still had several small children at home and was not willing or very able to take on Theo, given her advancing age, poor health, and domestic and church responsibilities. Dell later wrote to his father, “It would never have been the proper thing for you to have taken him into your home.”

David O. LeBaron and Amy Richins LeBaron of Mesa adopted Theo. Andrew maintained contact with his grandson, visiting Theo from time to time when he was in the Mesa area. It seems to have been widely known that Dell had fathered a child and some felt he had been made an example of in the way he was treated.⁷⁷⁰

Josie, in white (front), entertained wives of stake leaders.

Josie was an outstanding housekeeper, but got less respect from Andrew than she thought she deserved. One time, hoping to get a reaction she put pots, kettles, and pans all over the floor of a room through which he had to pass. To her surprise he entered and carefully stepped over each item and said nothing.⁷⁷¹

Josie seems to have had a difficult personality, but that must be balanced by the heavy responsibility she had assumed and her chronic ill health. There was clearly some disharmony between Andrew and Josie, not surprising for two such strong people. Josie had reared her own two children and had been self-supporting for many years, most recently as a teacher at the academy. Once when Andrew commented to his son about some unhappiness the son asked about divorce as a solution. Andrew said, “People would always sympathize with the woman.”⁷⁷²

A series of letters from Josie to Andrew in 1908 suggests that their disagreements were largely transient. “Your letter breathed such pure deep love and respect that I felt a little remorseful for my past little naughtinesses. . . . that was the first real love letter you have ever written me.”⁷⁷³

Another letter scolds Andrew for discussing her business with his close friend Joseph Robinson. “Forgive me, dear, but some way or another he always rubs me the wrong way. I think I despise him.”⁷⁷⁴

“Your [letters] were newsy but cold-blooded. Perhaps I deserve your censure but wait till I come home to give it to me. . . . Oh, my husband, overlook my faults, and let nothing come between us that will in any way cause estrangement.”⁷⁷⁵

“I am writing as if we had parted with the very best of feelings.”⁷⁷⁶

“I want to thank you, dearest one on earth to me, for the kind sweet letters you have given me.”⁷⁷⁷

Months later: “If the carnation is symbolic of your love for me you must have forgiven me and I hope you have.”⁷⁷⁸

“Your letter tonight my dear husband, was a treat, some portions of it carried me back to our sweet-heart days which we never should have left. I appreciate all you say and earnestly hope nothing will ever come between us again.”⁷⁷⁹

In Andrew’s private journal, on Josie’s sixtieth birthday in 1920, he called her “a very remarkable, wonderful little woman. I fully appreciate her and love her.”⁷⁸⁰

For her last thirteen years, at least, Josie suffered chronic ill health, diagnosed as “organic heart disease” or “leakage of the heart.”⁷⁸¹ She spent her last five years as a semi-invalid. But she carried on. During this period she served as a stake Relief Society counselor and then, the last four years, as president. She not only provided leadership to the women, but she also continued to do the necessary work around the house. In May 1921, for example, she fell from the hay shed and hurt herself severely while gathering eggs.

In July 1922 when Josie became very ill, she and Andrew went to Santa Monica, California, for treatment. The LDS missionaries stationed there came to administer to her. Consultation with two doctors brought no improvement. Andrew rented an ocean-front apartment. He secured a wheelchair and took her for rides on the waterfront. He made a quick trip home to catch up on an accumulation of churchwork and business. When he returned to California he found Josie bloated and not at all well. When they returned to Thatcher on September 1, 1922, Josie had to be carried in on a stretcher. She remained desperately ill. Andrew waited on her and did such house work as he could manage, but he finally secured the services of a woman to help.

Josie continued to sink gradually until death came on October 12, 1922.⁷⁸²

When her body had been prepared for burial, 240 students from the academy and 400 public school children filed past her bier. At the funeral there were beautiful floral arrangements and spoken tributes. The high council served as pallbearers. The governor sent a representative. Similar to the funeral for Ollie sixteen years earlier, Josie’s funeral was a state occasion in Thatcher.