“Heart-rending to Anson and Mary (Anson Vasco’s parents) was the 9 July, 1866 death of Anson Vasco’s wife Charlotte Holbrook Call while he was on his mission in England. She died on her husband’s birthday. Mary and Anson had known and loved this girl almost from her birth. The Holbrooks and the Calls had lived together, worked together, driven in covered wagons across the country together, and finally settled close by each other in the west. With their mother dead and their father across the ocean, at least some of the seven children, and perhaps all of them, came to live with Mary. She took care of them, and some stayed in her home all of their young lives. Anson Vasco’s children with Eliza remained with their mother.
“The shock of Charlotte’s death redoubled upon Anson and Mary when this telegram arrived: ‘Salt Lake Daily Telegraph Friday Aug 9th, 1867, Elk Mountain 8th, 1867. Anson V. Call died on the Fourth. We buried him at Rock Creek. Indians troublesome. H.P. Kimball.’
“As he wrote his journal, Anson rarely expressed tender feelings. Not very often did he display emotion, whether love or hate, joy or sorrow. Perhaps that was because he “spoke” most of the jounal to Mary or one of his other wives, rather than privately recording it himself on paper. His references to his sweethearts, his personal losses, and the early deaths of his children, were always brief and stoic. But with the death of a grown son who was filled with so much promise, Anson broke down. ‘This is sad intelligence to me and a great blow to my household, and if ever we needed Divine assistance, it is now. The intelligence, however, was anticipated in not hearing from my son, whose long silence gave me serious reflections by dreams that my family and several of my brethren and acquaintances have had, and from the peculiar feelings and state of my mind for some time past, all of which seemed to fortell his dissolution. … He left New York for Liverpool per steamship Pennsylvania July 2nd, reaching Liverpool on the 17th of same month. He was then appointed to labor in the Newcastle upon Tyne Conference, and subsequently presided over the Bristol Conference, and later still over the Sheffield Conference, which position he held up to the time of his release. That a few particulars of his life may be preserved for the use of his young and orphan family, I copy from the Deseret News, Aug. 14th, 1867, the following:”
“’Obituary. Elder Anson V. Call died on the 4th of August, 1867 at Rock Creek, on the Bitter Creek route, 423 miles east of G.S. City. He was a son of Anson and Mary Call, and was born July 9th 1834, in Madison, Geauga County, Ohio.’ The obituary went on to note that Anson Vasco dated his first recollections from persecutions he and his family suffered with the Saints at Adam-ondi-Ahman, and that seeing the assassinated bodies of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother, Hyrum, stamped an image on his memory that he never forgot. The newspaper account also mentioned positions of trust awarded to Anson: Justice of the Peace, Selectman, school teacher and ward clerk, as well as overseeing his father’s business while his father was away on colonizing missions. ‘The news of his death spread a deep gloom over the Ward and filled the hearts of many with sorrow, but all is well: he labored for the cause of Zion, and has gone for a season, to come forth clothed with immortality and eternal life.’
“An editorial note stated. ‘We think the Rock Creek mentioned above is in Laramie Plainsn, on the Bitter Creek route 423 miles east of G.S.L. City.’
“Several days after this obituary appeared in The Deseret News, Anson received a letter from Samuel Carlisle who was with Anson Vasco when he died. It was important enough for Anson to copy this letter in his journal, so it is included here:
“’Plains Dacotah Territory
“’August 6, 1867
“’Mr. Anson Call,
“’Dear Brother, No doubt you have been informed by telegraph of the death of your son Anson V. Call. He died on the night of Aug. 4th at 12 o’clock without a pain or groan. A few minutes before his death he asked me if I did not think that the Lord would spare his life just twenty one days, the time we had allotted for traveling to Fort Bridget, where he thought he would see you or some of the family. But God ordained otherwise. He was strong and resolute to the last, and never gave up hope till about one hour before his departure. His cry was, Lord, spare me until I get home. As he lay in the wagon, I sitting at the bottom of the bed watching him, he never took his eyes off me. Just before he died he said, Mr. Carlisle, I think I am going. Come and lay your hands upon me, which I did and prayed in my feeble way for the Lord our God to bless him, when at the close of the prayer he gave a very loud, Amen, as if his soul was full of anguish, and said, if it is the Lord’s will that I should go, I am ready. The burthen of his soul was, Oh my people.
“’Anson V. was a man of few words, hence the hidden trouble that none but God and himself knew. When I saw that he was dying I called out to one of the brethren to come and witness his death, and by the time that Bro. E. Holman came, he had lost his speech and quietly sank over as if going to sleep. I washed him clean from head to foot. He was very thin, and where the pain affected him on the left side, the flesh was a little black. We dress him in a new suit of white garments, white stockings, put a white linen cloth about the face, and a white cambric handkerchief over the face. We went some distance to buy some lumber to make a coffin, the size of which was 6 feet 2 by 1 foot 6 inches. We buried him about 30 feet from a telegraph pole near one mile creek, which is one mile from Rock creek, about 50 feet or so from the Main road. The ground is rocky. The grave is five feet deep … which cost a deal of labor. When the grave was finished we placed the remains of brother Anson Vasco into his large blue blanket, and all being ready we lifted his body carefully into the coffin, having placed a feather pillow in it for his head to rest upon. We tucked his blanket carefully around him, and in a moment he was lost to sight. The scene was deeply affecting and caused the briny tear to flow, and we fully realized that after so long an absence from those he loved he was cut off, but the spirit whispered, it is right, and all is well. I placed a head board at his grave, with an inscription on it cut pretty deep and painted black, also the square and compass, which may find friends on the dreary plains. The board was 4 feet long and 1 fott broad. We finished off the grave as well as we could so that it looked quite as well as many graves in our cemetaries. On the telegraph pole mentioned above I wrote the following lines:
‘He fought and battled long
‘In the weary house of clay
‘The die was cast, his time had come
‘And so he’s gone away.
‘Respect his ashes.
‘Samuel Carlisle’”
Source: Anson Call and the Rocky Mountain Prophesy, p 319-322.
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