(Contributed by the Thomas Tolman Family Organization. Excerpt from Judson Tolman: Pioneer, Lumberman, Patriarch by E. Dennis Tolman, Second Edition, 2004, page 161).

Orson was born September 10, 1973 in Center, Tooele, Utah to Cyrus and Margaret Eliza Utley Tolman. According to his sister, Maggie, he was a boy without guile. She said, “Orson always served the Lord and studied the gospel from the time he could read, preparing his mind for that mission he was going on when he was nineteen…He was four years older than I, but he was always my pal and playmate. He took me to dances and looked after me.”

A couple who lived across the road from Orson’s brother, Wilford and his wife, Laura, invited them and their three small children and another family with five children to dinner one day. During the afternoon while they were there, a trunk arrived from Salt Lake City from the man’s folks. It contained clothing and other things for the family. That summer there had been diphtheria in the home of the family who sent the trunk. In about ten days Laura and Will’s second child, little May became ill and lived only a few hours. Then the family of five children became ill the same way and all five of the children died—ages from six months to fifteen years. There was no doctor within forty miles, but everyone was sure that it was diphtheria. There was no quarantine. Wilford was away working in the mines of Eureka, Utah.

We had the mail contract at that time, carrying mail from Star Valley to Montpelier. It took three days or parts of three days to make the trip. Orson went with the mail as usual. He was feeling all right when he left but took sick in the night. He hooked up his team and pulled into Montpelier in the early morning. He went straight to the doctor, who took one look and would not even let him inside his office. There were no hospitals to turn to at that time. The doctor ordered Orson out of town immediately. They did, however, load the mail sacks in his buckboard, and he spent another night in the canyon.

While in the canyon that night, he beheld a vision of what his mission was to be. It was to be on the other side. He was very happy about all that was shown him and never wanted them to try to cure him. The family wanted the elders to come. Orson would give his consent only if they would pray for the Lord to take him in peace, and quickly.

He was apparently recovering from the disease, but he became very hoarse. He walked from one room to another and said he wanted to be in Mother’s bed. Whenever any of us were ill, it did us so much good if we could go to Mother’s bed. The good old brother, who Orson had called for, came and Orson told him just what to tell the Lord. We all kneeled about the bed while old Brother Jensen prayed. I shall never forget that prayer. He plead that God would be merciful to such a fine young man.

When we arose, Brother Jensen took the oil and was about to anoint Orson. “Wait a minute,” Orson whispered. Then he took Mother’s hand and asked her not to mourn for him, that he was just going on that mission. He bade her good-bye, smiled at all of us, and turned his face to the wall and went to sleep. He died October 9, 1891, at the age of nineteen years and six days, living only ten days after taking ill.

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