by Alice Nelson Cannon, daughter of Leonora (Nonie) – Sarah

I have many fond recollections of my Grandfather Joseph F. Smith that are
very clear and dear to me. When I was ten I had a unique experience, as I
was the only grandchild present. I do not know how it happened but I am
sure my Father must have had something to do with a Northwestern Mission
Conference. [Grandpapa] had a private car and took with him his wife–Aunt
Julina; bishop Charles W. Nibley and his wife, and it seems to me his
daughter Florence; Uncle John Henry Smith and his wife; Seymour B.
Young and his wife; and most of his unmarried sons and daughters; and me
in the care of Aunt Jeanetta.

I had a wonderful and exciting time. Portland was a beautiful city, and the
home in which Brother Ballard and his family were living was so grand with
its lovely green sloping lawn where we were served cold lemonade. Also a
special spirit exhibited by President and Sister Ballard and their family was
wonderful. Melvin R. Ballard was very special to me ever after, as were the
General Authorities who were on the trip. After the Conference and on the
way home, we toured Yellowstone Park by stagecoach. It was truly a dream
come true.

Since this is especially about Grandpapa I will say no more about the trip,
but will relate and incident which is very vivid in my memory. We arrived
in Pocatello in the late afternoon and since the President and General
Authorities would be busy on Church business, Grandpapa told his children
they could go to a movie if they so desired. A certain group decided to do
so—Aunt Jeanetta among them, so I was among them. I do not remember
the movie except it was exciting and long. Since we arrived after the show
had begun, we decided to stay to see the beginning, and stayed on. It was
dark and later than we thought so we had to hurry very fast to get back to the
depot as our train was to pull out that night.

When we arrived at the station and started down the tracks toward our car,
which was on a siding, there was Grandpapa in his pajamas and bathrobe
walking toward the station. We met. I do not remember the words
exchanged, but we all felt very sorry, and a little ashamed for worrying
Grandpapa as he sort of scolded us, and we hurriedly got in the car and
prepared for bed.

I think the thing that remains in my mind and which I think of so often was
the concern Grandpapa had for his children. With so many important things
on his mind he was always concerned for his children. I have mixed
feeling—one of sorrow because we caused him some worry, but a feeling of
warmth and joy because he so loved us. It has acted as a reminder ever
afterwards to make me feel I never wanted to do anything that would worry
him or make him feel sorry because of my actions or words.