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Grant Broberg Monson |
A MEMORY, A MONOGRAM AND A SMILE
by Ivie H. Jones
Outside of the family, a wide circle of friends and school mates, and his own Ward and Stake associates, Elder Grant B. Monson was possible not too well known, for he was the quiet, unassuming type. But to the Mexican people, all over the land, he leaves a memory that even time will not erase.
It was not by chance that Elder Monson was called to the Spanish American Mission, nor that the family physician advised that he would be as well off in the mission field as he would be at home.
A kidney disorder, which developed early in life, had greatly curtailed his physical activities, but not his mental achievements. All his life he had dreamed of a mission, and he was glad the call was to the Lamanite people.
His first assignment was in Northern New Mexico; his second to Phoenix, Arizona, and then to Tucson, where the work would be even less strenuous.
In May of 1947, his doctor in Tucson advised that he must be released at once. He was immediately notified by his Mission President that an early release was ready, but Elder Monson declined to accept it. Finally the President was inspired to telephone and suggest that he come into the mission office where he could rest and be under more careful supervision. Then these faith promoting words cam over the wires, "Yes, President I'd love to come in, for I don't want to go home. I believe the Lord still has work for me to do, and that the blessing I received when I was set apart will be fulfilled, and that I will be able to finish my mission." How little he knew then just what work the Lord did have for him to do.
His health improved rather rapidly in the mission home and he was assigned the Office bookkeeper, and then later he was made the Mission Secretary, but for a short period only.
At first, he was reluctant to give up his position as mission secretary for he suspected that he was given the new assignment of Genealogist because of his health, but soon he realized that the job at hand was no task for transient help, for it would take months or possibly years to get such a program properly set up, and in working condition.
He was given help, and the more they worked, the more the spirit of Elijah touched their hearts, and they planned, and they dreamed, and they prayed that the descendants of Lehi, who are not recordkeeping people, might be able to gather the information necessary to continue the Temple work that had now gained such momentum.
With the Temple ceremonies conducted in the Spanish language, there was a general wave of enthusiasm among all Spanish speaking people, and family group sheets were sent to the Index Bureau from everywhere. Soon there were many duplicate sheets, and conflicting information, and it became increasingly more difficult to detect which sheets had gone to the Index Bureau, and which had not. Some means much be devised to prevent these duplication, inaccuracies, and speed up the work. A master record and a central clearing house, where sheets would pass before going to the Index Bureau seemed the answer. Elder Monson readily accepted the idea, and the work of re-checking with the Index Bureau began.
It was then that a decision was made to date and initial all sheets passing through the office. For better than a year, while Elder Monson was head of the Genealogical Department of the office, every sheet that went to the Index Bureau for the first time, or for a recheck, carried initials, G.B.M. Literally hundreds of these family group sheets were thus marked with his personal monogram, and they stand as a monument to him, and tell a story no pen can write.
These monogrammed sheets tell of happy hours spent in the homes of the members, securing additional genealogical data, or correcting errors. They tell of letters written to patrons, to Mexico, to the Catholic Church, to the county and city courthouses; they tell of pleasant tours made with the Mission Presidents;
they tell of inspiring days spent in the Mesa Temple doing ordinance work, or copying these ordinances into the Master Record; they tell of delightful associations in the Mission home; they tell of rest periods, of chats about the wonders of the restored Gospel, of his personal desires, of talks on health, human behavior, patriarchal blessings, or of discussions on courtship and marriage; they tell of discouragement when he was forced to rest, but they do not tell of any lack of faith, for while he felt sure he was not long to remain; he never once questioned being able to complete his mission, and he never ceased to smile.
Many have done their share of the establishment of this Mexican Genealogical Clearing House, and many more will make their contributions, and leave their monogram on the family group sheet, for the practice seems worthy of continuance, but the pioneering is over, and out of confusion and experimenting has come order and system.
It was not strange that Elder Monson's last day in the mission field should be in the Mesa Temple. He had previously received his release, but asked permission to meet his parents, Byron C. and Cassie Lyman Monson, in Mesa, Arizona during the Lamanite excursion in October, 1948. It seemed so natural for him to be in the Temple, that no one realized he was released, or remembered that he was scheduled to leave Mesa, that morning at 6 a.m.
It was the concluding day of that spiritual feast, and about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when the copying of the majority of the sealing ordinances was about completed, that Elder Monson whispered, "Goodbye, I guess you won't need me anymore, so I'll go." Oh Elder, weren't you scheduled to leave this morning at 6, I asked? "Yes, he replied, and my folks are still out in the car waiting for me, but I knew there would be so many sealings done today, and a lot to copy in our records, and I thought you'd need me." A clasp of the hand, a satisfied smile, and a word of warning - Don't let anyone mess up the Lamanite Genealogy," and he was off.
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Obituary of Grant Broberg Monson |
The Mexican people all over the country will be grieved at news of his passing April 24, 1949, in a Salt Lake City Hospital, at the age of 23. So far as we are concerned, he is not gone, but is merely transferred to another department of the Lamanite Genealogy, for he speaks Spanish fluently, and knows hundreds of their ancestors by name. No, he is not gone - for he leaves a memory, a monogram, and a smile.
* This story was written by Ivie H. Jones and sent to the church magazines after Grant passed away.
Amasa Mason Lyman & Eliza Maria Partridge
Platte De Alton Lyman
Albert Robison Lyman