Little Augusta found a very good and comfortable home, lovely furniture, gardens, hedges, and an array of colorful flowers. ·She started to school at the age of seven, but when she was twelve years old her father took her out of the public school and placed her in a select private schooL Here she learned many accomplishments and arts. Grandfather bought her a kid glove machine and she made and sold several dozen pairs a week.
In the year 1850, Apostle Erastus Snow brought the gospel to Denmark. The Outzens heard it and believed its principles, but when they were baptized they immediately lost all their old friends. Grandfather could get no more work, but their beautiful home was always open house to all the Elders. By now Grandfather had made several houses to rent. They talked of going to America, and offered their homes and furniture for sale, but no one would buy from the hated “Mormons,” so when the time came for them to sail they left everything for the sake of the Gospel.
Before the family sailed they received a very significant visit from Jesse N. Smith, the president of the Scandinavian Mission. Brigham Young had told him to find a good girl and marry her. Being a man who obeyed authority he began to look around, and of course took his choice of all the marriageable maidens in the whole mission. Augusta was then a funny developed, talented girl in her sixteenth year. The dignified president was twenty years her senior, but she gave him her wholehearted love, which burned brighter and more beautifully as the years passed by. Jesse N. once said of her, “She has never given me one disparaging word.” They were married at Copenhagen, Denmark, June 3, 1869.
On arriving in Parowan, Utah, mother met, loved and was loved by fathers plural family. I think no woman ever lived that holy principle more perfectly. Coming to Arizona, she passed through the vicissitudes of pioneering a new country and raised a large family of eleven children to maturity.
“Aunt” Augusta was a wonderful cook and seamstress. Mild and sweet in disposition, she was loved by all who knew her. She died April 26, 1932 at the age of seventy-eight, and lies buried in Snowflake by the side of her honored husband. Hers was the hand which held the torch for future generations yet unborn!
(Rebecca S. Rogers, daughter)