The United Order has long ago passed on but those who lived it still remember the wonders accomplished. Out of its name came Orderville which lives on in Southern Utah. The writer chanced to visit this place recently and through the courtesy of Bishop Edward Carroll was enabled to interview Mary Jane McCleve Meeks.

An elderly woman was walking briskly up the street and the Bishop said: "That's Sister Meeks." The scribe ran to catch up with her, and found a tiny, white haired smiling faced old lady whose appearance belied her 91 years. She bid the writer welcome to come that evening to interview her at her old fashioned home, but excused herself hurriedly as she had chores to do.

The sun was sinking fast in Utah's southern wonderland and hearing the good old soul retired early the trip was not long postponed. An aged cottage covered with vines and with the ever present flower garden in front welcomed the visitor. He rapped gently and hearing no answer called out. A tiny voice replied, "come in." With hesitancy he traced the echo, if such it could be called, to the bedroom. Lighting a match and then a candle he beheld the saintly face of Sister Meeks in her bedcap and white nightgown. The interview started much to the amusement of the writer's baby boy who had come along as chaperone.

"I was born in Belfast, Ireland, Aug. 21, 1840, daughter of John and Nancy McCleve—one of a family of ten children. We sailed for America in April, 1856, after joining the Church in the Old Country. From Boston we went to Iowa and crossed the plains in the second handcart company, Daniel McArthur being the captain. We hauled camping provisions in the carts. These were each on two wheels with a shaft to draw it with. No better outfits were available at that time, and rather than wait to procure wagons, horses or oxen, we chose to come this way before it got too late to reach the valley before winter. Some would push and some would pull, which, gave occasion for the noted song, the words of which were recently printed in The Instructor.

"One day when we started up a large hill a little boy named Elliker became sick and could not climb. When we camped that night the captain went back but could not find the lad, who had been left to rest, and he was never heard of again.

"At another time the company stopped to do washing. I was 16 and was wringing out clothes in the stream. A fine buggy drove up. A man jumped out and asked me to go for a ride. I said, "No, thank you." He asked me if I had any folks. I said, "Yes." The other man who was in the buggy said, "Take this handkerchief and tie over her mouth and throw her in." Just then father and sister, appeared and the men put whip to their horses and drove away. So you see even in those days men wanted to take young girls for a ride.

"Father died two days before we reached the valley and was buried on Bear River, near Evanston, Wyoming, where today there is a lonely grave. We arrived Sept. 26, 1856. I was put out with a family named Gifford to work and earned enough money to buy a calico dress which cost a dollar a yard.

"I was married Nov. 12 to Dr. Priddy Meeks who was 61 and I 16. It was love at first sight, even though he had three grown girls older than myself. President Joseph Smith the prophet had told Mr. Meeks he should go to Zion and marry a young girl and raise a large family. Ten children blessed our union.

"We went to live in Parowan and later moved to Long Valley in 1862. One day Indians came to our home and demanded flour. We gave them all we had and our children had to live on corn meal until Dr. Meeks returned from Parowan. After the Berry boys were killed it was too dangerous for us to remain so we joined settlers in Windsor (Mt. Carmel) where we lived until we went back to Harrisburg. In 1877 moved to Long Valley and joined the United Order in Orderville which had been organized two years before. We sold all we had and turned it into the common fund. We lived in the fort in a lumber cabin in the northwest comer where the tithing lot now is. We lived here until the Order was broken up. We all had our work. I did mid-wifery after Dr. Meeks died and attended to over 700 births.

At one time when called upon to attend the sick, the horses became frightened and ran and I was thrown out of the wagon loosening my teeth, but I made the call.

"At the time we were in the Order we all shared alike. I well remember the large dining hall in the center with kitchen and bakery attached and at either side work shops. The bread was mixed in a vat 7 feet long and 2 1/2 feet wide, and 100 pounds of flour was used at a baking with three bushels of potatoes to feed the Order. There were three dairies, 100 cows each in two of them, and 50 in the third. There was a saw mill and woollen factory, with tannery, shoeshop and cabinet shop. We made our own hats and carded wool for clothes. The reason the Order stopped was not because of selfishness as some think, but because an order from the President, Wilford Woodruff, thought it advisable to discontinue. We were happy and contented and I think it could still be made a success with the right kind of hard working people."

Sister Meeks is a loving personality of vivid vitality. She is four score and ten and over, yet does housework, sews and patches, walks long distances every day and eats and sleeps well. She lives alone in her tiny home and enjoys her friends and numerous posterity. She was 43 when her husband died and raised her family practically by her own support. There are five generations now, as shown in the picture. Numerically, to be exact, she has 10 children, 62 grandchildren, 131 great grandchildren and 15 great-great grandchildren, a total of 218 with 47 sons and daughters-in-law.