JUSTIN ABINADI BLACK - Chapter One

When I was a child, I thought Abinadi was a very weird name. I wondered whatever could have possessed my Grandfather and Grandmother Black to name a child such a ridiculous name. My mother explained that Grandpa Black (Benjamin Daniel Black) made sure that each of his sons had one name from the Scriptures. Sometimes it was the first name, or, as in the case of my Dad, the middle name. Actually, I was happy that Abinadi was his middle name rather than his first name. He was always called Justin (or his nickname “Jet”) and just used the middle initial. Probably relatively few people ever knew his middle name.

Just recently, I decided to read the Book of Mosiah again---chapters 11 through 17. I have come to the conclusion that Abinadi was a worthy man and now I am proud my Dad carried the name. I don’t know any other sons of my Grandfather who are more worthy to carry the name. Don’t get me wrong. I really admired my Dad’s brothers. They were all good men—kind, hard workers, etc., but my Dad was kind, loving, generous, wise, patient and above all, he loved his wife and kids. He had a strong testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and, I believe, his knowledge of that Gospel guided his existence. (As I look at the list of his brothers, I see some who were given names I don’t recognize as being from the Scriptures, so maybe it was my Grandmother who wanted her sons to have names from the Scriptures. Guess we’ll never know for sure.)

My Dad’s parents were Benjamin Daniel and Annie Ozina Porter Black. Annie Ozina was Benjamin’s first wife. My mother told me several times that my grandfather, Benjamin Daniel, was16 and grandma, Annie Ozina, was 15 when they married. Having been told that, I believed it to be true but, when I ran that by my sister, Grace, she told me her genealogy sheets showed he was 19 when he married my grandmother. Also, I verified his birth date with Joel Black who, apparently, got the information from Grandpa’s grave stone. Benjamin Daniel was born July 2, 1859 in Nephi, Utah. Annie Ozina was born April 27, 1863 in Porterville, Utah. Benjamin D. and Annie Ozina were married February 21, 1879. Before the end of the year he had courted his second wife and married Susan Louisa Palmer on December 12, 1879. He was 20 years old when he took his second wife. Four years later he married Annie Alice Baldwin on December 26, 1883. Annie Ozina gave birth to nine children. Susan Louisa gave birth to 10 children. Annie Alice gave birth to 11 children.

It was customary to call the “other wives” of your Father/Grandfather, Aunt. So we called Susan Louisa, “aunt” Susie, and Annie Alice, “aunt” Alice. That was the way with polygamous families. Annie Ozina and Aunt Susie loved each other and treated each other like sisters. But when Benjamin Daniel began courting Annie Alice, both my grandmother and Aunt Susie objected. When a man was contemplating taking another wife, he was supposed to get the approval of his other wife/wives. They didn’t mind him taking another wife, just not her. They both perceived Annie Alice as being selfish and not willing to work together, with them, as a family. But Benjamin D. persisted and married her anyway. I do believe there was a little tension for a while but it was what it was and, though my Grandmother and Aunt Susie relented somewhat, there was never the closeness with the three of them as there was between Aunt Susie and my Grandmother.

As previously mentioned, Annie Ozina gave birth to nine children. Six of the nine died as infants/toddlers. The babies lived as short a time as two days, with the longest time being just over two years, but mostly, they died as infants (maybe a couple of days to a few months). I cannot begin to imagine what it must have been like to lose baby after baby. My Dad’s oldest brother, the first born child, Benjamin Grant lived to 93. His sister, child number four, TamarArvena lived to 38 (no children). My Dad, child number five, lived to 88. You may wonder why so many of the babies died. I’m sure my grandparents wondered the same thing. Grandma was told by several that the reason so many of her babies died was because, “her milk was poison.” What a cruel thing to say! But no one knew the real reason and people always need a reason for what they do not understand. They needed to justify things in their own mind and “poison milk” was the best they could offer.

My sister, Grace, has the RH negative factor in her blood. None of the rest of us do/did. Many years ago she and I talked about it and wondered if Daddy had the RH negative factor in his blood and, perhaps, that was the reason she has it. Obviously, Grace didn’t inherit it from our Mother, because Mom had seven children and six of us lived to be adults. The child who died contracted something that was “going around” in Blanding and several other young children died of the same ailment. But, in the early summer of 1975, my Dad was in the hospital in Grand Junction and nearly died. They drew blood, of course, and “typed” it at that time. You guessed it! He had the RH negative factor. So, Grace and I have surmised that our Grandmother also had the RH negative factor in her blood and that’s why so many of her babies died. Now, I do not have the knowledge to explain exactly what the RH negative factor is, but in those days they would not have had any idea there was such a thing or what to do about it if they had known. If my understanding is correct, the first born child was in no danger, regardless of its blood type. That is why Uncle Ben lived. But the mother’s blood begins to build up antibodies. I understand that child number two MAY have a chance. Obviously, not in all cases because Grandma’s child number two and three, died. If a fetus has the same blood type as its mother, (with the RH negative factor) the antibodies in the blood of mother and child won’t be at “war” with each other and the baby has a good chance to live to be an adult. So, it would seem, Aunt Tamar and Daddy had the RH negative factor and that’s why they lived. Child number six, seven, eight and nine must have had their father’s blood type so they were unable to survive the onslaught of antibodies from Grandma.

I know I have explained the RH negative factor very badly and if you are not aware of such problems, you are probably REALLY confused by now. Perhaps if our Eric, the Doctor, has the time, he could explain what I’m talking about in a more understandable manner---Please. I do know Medical miracles have occurred in that particular area and now there are things that can be done to save the babies born to RH negative mothers.

My Grandmother died before her 42nd birthday. My Dad was not quite 18 when his mother died. Daddy took care of his Mother quite a bit before she died. After grandma died, Uncle Ben. Aunt Tamar and Daddy rented a place for a while but after a time things changed; Aunt Tamar went somewhere else, and Uncle Ben got married. Daddy lived with Uncle Ben and his first wife, Vilate, for a while but then he was pretty much on his own. Yes, his father was still living, but his father had two other families. It must have been a lonely time for him. Aunt Tamar got married, as well, so Daddy was really alone until he married my mom when he was 30 years old. (Joel just e-mailed me some stories that Daddy wrote down and sent to Karen. They are very interesting. So, eventually, you’ll be getting those, and you’ll be able to read his own account of some of his experiences. They were hard times. It made me cry to think of him going through some of the things he did. And, reading the stories made me appreciate the man he became, even more.

There! I’ve given you some back ground on my Dad’s family so if I refer to some of this information I won’t need to go into the details again.

My Dad was one of the most upright men I have ever known. He was absolutely reliable. If he said he’d do something, he did it and he did it the best it could possibly be done. He was totally honest. He gave more than a day’s work for a day’s pay. When he was paid for a job, his tithing came out FIRST. He always did his home teaching. I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone. I never heard him swear or use bad language of any kind. I spent many hours working outside with my Dad. He was a great teacher.

Daddy was 6’ 1” tall, slender, handsome; with dark medium brown, curly hair when he was younger. Of course, by the time I knew him, he had gray in his hair. He weighed about 175 (+/-) pounds. (Grace has a picture of Daddy when he was about 30, I think. I’m hoping I can get a copy of that picture so you can see how good looking he was.) He had beautiful blue eyes that twinkled when he smiled and he smiled often. I know a man in Page, Arizona who has twinkly eyes like my dad; my oldest brother, Sherman, had twinkly eyes and I have three grandchildren who have twinkly eyes. It is a rare blessing to have twinkly eyes. Perhaps the reason I remember his eyes so much is because they ARE rare. How can I explain “twinkly?”
How about this? When my Dad’s mouth smiled, his eyes smiled, as well. It was almost as though there was mischief written all over his face. That does not mean he couldn’t be stern. He could, and occasionally, he was. I remember several times when I had really misbehaved (yes, even I misbehaved on rare occasions) he would send me out to cut a willow so he could give me two or three swats with it to make me realize I had acted inappropriately. A small, pliable willow across your backside and the tops of your legs helps a child remember what he or she did wrong and it reminds the child not to do it again. A willow stings but does no damage. I would never say that my Dad abused me. He was only disciplining me in a manner I would not soon forget. As I said, willows sting. I only remember him using a willow on me two or three times. I must have learned my lesson quickly. Besides, I didn’t like to have him angry at, or disappointed in me. Of course, my older siblings always maintained that I was treated better than they were. You know the complaint of the oldest child—“parents learn on the first child” and each succeeding child gets less harsh treatment than the one before. By the time I came along they had acquired more patience, or, perhaps, they were too tired to be as hard on me. OR, perhaps I was just a better behaved kid. I’m sure that’s what it was. What do you think?

There is an old adage that says, “Jack of all trades and master of none.” The description, “jack of all trades” was fitting for Daddy, but “master of none” was not fitting. He knew how to do many things and whatever he did, he did it well.

I’m going to close this chapter at this point and continue with the next chapter as soon as I get my thoughts in a decent sequence. We have a very interesting heritage, wouldn’t you say? And it gets even more interesting. After I get through with the chapters about my Dad, I’ll fill you in on a few interesting facts about my great-grandfather, William Morley Black, who took six wives. And, I still have to tell you more about growing up in Blanding in the 1930’s and 1940’s. There is a lot more good stuff coming.

Now, for the February birthdays. Spencer, February 9th and Julianne, February 10th. Happy Birthday! Hope you have wonderful days.

I love you all.