Transcript for Douglass, Emma Jane Dixon, Autobiographical sketch, in [Collected information concerning the Charles Dixon family, ca. 1931-1984], item 3

Father sold out everything he owned before leaving for Utah in the spring of 1862, when I was in my seventh year.

We crossed Lake Erie on a steamer. Mother was very sick. When the Captain of the boat came along and saw the eight children, he asked where the mother of these children was. We took the train to Florence, Nebraska and stayed there for six weeks, while the company prepared to cross the plains. Father had to go back to Kirtland on business. We left Florence in covered wagons with oxen, in Captain [Isaac A.] Campfield's [Canfield's] Company, with Elder [James] McKnight in charge.

When we camped, the wagons would be placed to form a circle. At night, we all knelt in prayer. There were no deaths on the way and no sickness with the exception of an accident when Arthur Wightman, then about a year old, fell in the fire and burned his hand, and Erastus [Wightman Dixon] hurt his foot. Because we had no way of keeping the boy's hand open, his fingers grew to the palm of his hand. When Erastus would cry at night with pain, the wolves would howl.

The Indians appeared at camp only once and were friendly. They caused us no trouble. Our company did not want for anything while crossing the plains. We had bread, plenty of crackers, and cooked beans. We made salt rising bread. I still have the kettle we used for the bread. We gathered buffalo chips to burn for fuel to cook our meals.

The oxen and pony were much company. The oxen were taught to come around under the yoke, and to gee and haw. We all liked to see them. When they swam the Green River all eyes were on them.

The campfire was our light. Father followed the train to make sure that nothing was lost on the way.

At emigration Canyon, Orrawell Simons of Payson came to meet us with horses and wagon, and brought some of our company in. I wondered how he found out we were there. We arrived in Salt Lake City, 16 October, 1862, on my seventh birthday. It seemed a barren place, I expected more. When we camped there, Elder McKnight brought us some ripe peaches, a treat we all enjoyed.