Sarah M. Kimball
by Jill Mulvay Derr
Sarah Kimball settled on the wooden seat and sat as always arrowstraight, wisps of white hair straying from her tight top knot. This was 1883 and certainly not the first time Sarah had taken the train; she had made trips north of Salt Lake City for Relief Society matters, south to St. George for temple work, and west to California to visit her brother, Farley Granger. But this was to be a trip east, back to Nauvoo and Kirtland, and to New York—almost a retracing of the route that had brought her to Utah years earlier. Thirty-two years earlier to be exact, 1851. She had come to the Salt Lake Valley a young mother with two sons; her husband, Hiram, had joined her later. Now three sons were grown; the youngest, twenty-nine-year-old Franklin D., was traveling with her. Hiram had been dead for twenty years.