Archibald McPhail and Rock Creek

July brings our thoughts to our country and the Mormon Pioneers. Here's a little genealogy tidbit: We stopped up at Rock Creek (on South Pass near Atlantic City) on our way home from Riverton last week.

Grandma Kennington's great grandfather, Archibald McPhail, a shoe maker from Scotland, was with the Willie Handcart Company back in October of 1856. He was responsible for some older ladies in the group. The handcart company became stranded on Rock Creek by an early blizzard in late October. The country is high desert plains with occasional ravines where the streamlets flow.

As the story goes, Archibald discovered one of his little ladies was missing when they finally pitched camp off the ridge in a sheltered area where Rock Creek has cut a little canyon. He went back up the hill through the blizzard and found her somewhere on the other side of the stream farther east. Sounds like at the crossing they made at mid-day. She was despondent, weak and refused to go another step. He was forced to carried her across the frozen stream. But they fell through the ice at this crossing. The story says he was wet to his chest. Now the stream crossing looks pretty shallow and the slope is gradual, so I wonder if he didn't pitch forward when the ice broke which soaked him to the waist or chest.

They managed to slosh back to camp, (7 miles if it's to the official camp site at Rock Creek) probably chilled to the bone in the wet clothing. One account says his clothing was frozen by then. That's entirely possible if they were trudging 7 miles to the west against the blizzard.

Back at camp, the company was too weak to have much of a fire, so Archibald had no means of drying off. Everyone else was huddled in tents trying to find protection against the wind and snow. Archibald settled the little lady in a tent, then found there was no spot for him. So he pulled a handcart over himself and spent a cold night with the blizzard howling. In the morning they had to use a butcher knife to free him from the frozen ground. He was suffering from hypothermia (obviously) by morning with chills and fever.

He survived to the Bear River crossing south of Evanston a few days later but was too sick to walk. From the Willie Company Log: "1856 6 Nov. Archibald McPheil, from Greenock, Argyleshire, Scotland, died about 2 a.m, aged 40 years. Much snow on the ground this morning and still falling. Go down Echo Canyon, roads very bad at the crossing of streams; forded Weber River and camped on its banks. It snowed most of the day. The camping ground presented a most dismal appearance, as we rolled on to it there being much snow on the ground and it being late at night..." Willie Company Log, William Woodward, Clerk. Published in the booklet, "Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God" found in the Riverton Stake Second Rescue Collection, Riverton, Wyoming.

His grave site is just to the south of the pioneer marker overlooking the Bear River Crossing. We know that because his widow took historian Andrew Jensen to that location before her death.

The guides at Rock Creek all knew the story of Archibald. One fellow was quite emotional and said Archibald was his hero for that act of compassion. They were fairly confident they knew the location of the rescue from journal accounts and the Willie Company log.

If you drive up there, the location is 7 miles farther east of the official Rock Creek camp area with the large grave of the 13 who perished that same night. (see marker photo) That would mean he walked 7 miles to find her and 7 miles back to the camp in soaked clothing.

Now, in July, the stream is low, and the shallow crossing and meadow is welcome after miles of dry plain. It has probably been altered by the mining operations in the area since the 1860's. These photos give you a peaceful and warm view of where a pivotal event took place in the life of Archibald McPhail on that cold October night so long ago.

I picture him as a man of humble circumstances who found great resolve to be a faithful steward in difficult circumstances on that October night. This one single experience in his mortal life has probably born a stronger testimony to his posterity than anything he could have done. I believe he is my hero too.