Sarah Jane Taylor

Sarah Jane Taylor, daughter of James Whitehead Taylor and Ann Rogers was born April 3, 1842 at Oldham, Lancashire, England.

When she was a small child she came to America with her parents. As they crossed the plains, she walked much of the way, some of the time carrying her baby sister, Margaret, on her back.  Her mother was pregnant with twins and they died at birth on the plains.

 She had a sweet voice and the story is told of her sitting in the back of the wagon as they traveled across the plains singing songs to her baby sister. The Indians were attracted by her sweet singing and followed the wagons. They asked her father to trade her to them for a horse.

Her family settled in Lehi, Utah.  Her people were poor and as a girl she had to work hard, sometimes gleaning grain in the fields so they could have flour.  They had to go barefoot and many times her feet would bleed.  Grandfather (James Harwood) was so sorry for her that be bought her some shoes and he finally got her parents to consent to their marriage even though she was very young.

She married James T. Harwood, June 10, 1856 and they were very happy together. They built an adobe house, one room of which he used for a store.  Later they built a store and sold groceries and dry goods. He also made harnesses and saddles and sold them.

She was a sweet, kind, lovable person, always clean and neat appearing, and an excellent cook, a good housekeeper and a lover of beauty.  She gave birth to twelve children, six girls and six boys, nine of whom lived to maturity.

They taught their children thrift and honesty and instilled in them high ideals by setting a good example. They encouraged education and the development of talents.

I, their granddaughter, love them dearly and as a child I thought nobody else had such wonderful grandparents. Their home to me was the most beautiful place on earth. The vine covered house, the holly hocks, golden glow and roses that grew in their garden I shall always remember and love the memory.  The grape arbor, the good apples that grew in the orchard, the joy of watching the trout in grandfather’s private fish pond and gathering walnuts at their place on Thanksgiving Day- things I shall never forget.  I loved to hear the drip of water from the leaky tap in the kitchen sink and the song of the canary- - these I associated with grandmother’s kitchen.

I loved the days when grandfather and grandmother came to visit at our house. They never failed to bring us children some little treat.  In my memory I can still see grandfather coming down our lane driving old “Nick” in the one seated buggy.  That’s about the last thing I remember of him. 

Grandfather died October 26, 1912 at Lehi, Utah at the age of 78.  Grandmother died November 14, 1922 in Salt Lake City at the age of 90. 

Written by Zada Smith Peterson.