Utah Macabre: Grafton

This account was made to me personally from Calvert Kimball, an 89-year-old lifelong resident of Washington County, UT who was born in Grafton.  His family left Grafton when he was still a small child.  He now resides on a ranch just south of Virgin, UT.  This piece has been recorded in his words and in his natural dialect:
My grandpap, Charles Ackley Kimball, accompanied by his wives Dallas Foster and Kelly Housekeeper, the latter being my grandma, was one of the first families sent by the prophet Brigham Young to fulfill the Lord's mission in Zion's "Dixie."  Brother Brigham understood through the Lord's guid'nce that the red soils of the Virgin Valley were ideal for growin' crops like cotton and tobacco which would make the Saints self-reliant and free from the reliance...any reliance, that is, on the bid'ness of outsiders whose ways were not our ways.  The Lord blesses the righteous, and the crops of Utah's Dixie were as successful as King Cotton in the southern states [Editor's Note: They were not.].

I was born in Grafton in 1929.  My father was the second child and first son of Charles Kimball and Kelly Housekeeper Kimball, also born in Grafton in its earlier years.  I was the second son and second child of my father, Ammon Kimball, and my mother Jane Korhonen, who was from Salt Lake City.  They say Grafton is a ghost town, but it was haunted before we left.  Not ness'arily from actual spirits, un'erstand, but from the mem'ries, see?  We buried the dead in a cemetery just outside the settlemint as was the fashion in those days, but most o' yer bigger cities just grow up and around the cemeteries.  Grafton never got that big.

[Editor's Note: At this point, Kimball guides me around the cemetery, a small plot of red dirt enclosed by a wire fence, with sparse sagebrush, cactus and bluffs filling out the background.]
You can see the outlines of the bodies 'neath the dirt, 'cause the rains pack down the rest of the soil around them, and it doesn't pack the soil over the bodies down as far, 'cause of the bodies, right?  They're still down there.  [He gestures to a reddish pillar-like marker, enclosed from the rest by a handsome wooden gate.]  Them is the Berrys, killed by Navajo Ind'ans.  Those were rough days for the settlers, an' some o' the Ind'ans were less than welcomin'. [Editor's Note: Due to the scarce resources of the desert, settlers and the indigenous tribes competed for valuable resources like water, much of which was diverted by settlers toward crops including cotton, while native people raided the settlers' livestock as a matter of survival and a part their honor culture, which all contributed to heightened cultural strife between the two communities.]   Some of them was good folks an' e'en were baptized, but some o' 'em weren't.  The Berrys was killed out to Kanab in eighteen-hun'erd-'n-sixty-six, 'n the prophet had the people gather in the bigger settlements fer protection.  Grandpa Kimball would spend the nights in Rockville, then come back in the day wit' the other brethern to tend the crops.

That was a tryin' year fer the people o' Grafton, 1866 that is.  Why, e'en befer the Ind'an wars forced the good folks out o' their homes inta Rockville, six people died a diphtheria.  [Editor's Note: Curiously, he pronounces diphtheria with perfect clarity as he gestures toward a trio of wooden markers carved with the name "York", nearly 4-year-old Asa Uriah, nearly 7-year-old James Jasper, and nearly 13-year-old John William.]  Them is the York boys, preceded in death by their mother Mary Jane by consumptin', what they used t' call tuberculosis.  Also the Fields girls 'n their mother.  Perhaps worst o' all was Loretta Russell 'n' Elizabeth Woodbury, them what died when a swing they was playin' on broke.  Poor gals.  They was best friends.  They was burried together.  In January and February alone, eight folks had died.

We, uh, me 'n' my brothers used t' dare one another t' sneak out to the graveyard at night 'n' hold our hands on the girls' gravestone 'n' see who could stay the longest.  Now, I don't tell many people 'bout this, so I'm not too sure 'bout tellin' you 'n' lettin' ya record it, but this is the real goods, son.  [Before starting again, he gulps strenuously, and I can tell his mouth is very dry, so I offer him some water, which he takes a couple sips of.]  Thanks kindly.  As I was saying... when I was but 8 years old, matter o' fact, t'was three nights before I turned 8, me 'n' my brother Simon, 'n' a couple of his friends snuck out t' the graveyard in the middle o' the night while our folks was asleep.  Simon promised t' buy me a soda pop next time Pap took us into town if I could keep my hand on Loretta 'n' Elizabeth's grave stone fer three minutes.  It t'was a full moon that night 'n' had a blue sort o' glow on everythin'.  I remember perfectly the look o' those mound o' dirt in the moonlight while I placed my hand on the stone.  Suddenly, I had a some sort 'o vision, whether from God, the Devil er one of them girls I can't be sure on way er the other.  I had the strangest feelin', like I was bein' moved back 'n' ferth, 'n' suddenly I was falling and overcome by just an awful pain what hurt so bad, I tried to pull my hand back, but it was no use.  I could still see in the graveyard aroun' me, the mounds o' dirt and the stones 'n' all that.  It felt like I had bugs crawling all o'er me, like ants, but I couldn't see them.  I couldn't see my brothers neither, 'cause I thought they'd ditched me.  O'er there on the far side o' the graveyard I could suddenly see a woman though, 'n' she looked like a marm, standing uptight with her hands o'er her front, like so.  She started to move towards me 'n' quickly in an unnatural fashion, 'n' I wasn't so sure I wanted her gettin' near me ya know [he laughs softly].  She was weaving 'tween the headstones in a dark dress with lots  o' buttons and her hair in a bun, 'n' suddenly she was right in my face, so suddenly I couldn't help lettin' out a scream, 'n' I'm still trying to pull my hand from the gravestone, but it's not going.  I never heard a voice speak with such malice as this one, 'n' her eyes seemed t' darken as she shrieked at me "Go away!"  I, heh, I darn near pissed myself!  [He laughs, but it's an uneasy laugh and his eyes appear unsure].  I woke up later, early in the morning before the sun came up, on my bed but I didn't know how I got there.  I remembered the graveyard clear enough, sure, but after that, I don't know.  I think maybe I could have fainted 'n Simon coulda carried me home, but Simon 'n' his friends never let slip t' me what happened, 'n' I don't know why, 'n theys all dead too, now.  [He looks at me with now reddened eyes and his face appears to be quivering slightly].  Want to go look at the main townsite now?