In a now-closed thread, RfM poster, "blankstare," recounted his family's weird tour through the place where Joseph Smith jumped his last (not his last female, but out of his last window)--and where Hyrum went out with a bang, accompanied by his personal prognosis of where it was headed.

"blankstare" described what it was like to take his trip through "creepy" Carthage:

"Did any of you take a tour of Carthage jail back in the day? I went in the late '60s to early '70s. Parents took us as kids.

"Anyway, in the gun battle room where Smith was shot, they used to show tourists the alleged blood of the profit. If memory serves, it was on the floor and protected by a sheet of glass. The tour guide would stop there and linger reverently.

"It creeped me out as a kid. It strikes me now as creepier.

"I went back a few years ago and it was gone and the guide didn't mention it."
_____


Yeah, I have to agree that Carthage is a rather bizarre place to visit. What it needs is a miniature golf course.

During a Benson family reunion in the summer of 1979, our faithful clan, parading proudly behind its grand patriarch, Ezra Taft Benson, took a reverent pilgrimage to the murder site of Joseph and Hyrum Smith at their Carthage cul-de-sac.

Spoiler Alert: When we got to the "this-is-the-spot"
of the martyrs' precious bodily fluids, the wondrous wind had pretty much been taken out of the exhibit's sagging sails.

During our check-out of where the Smith brothers checked out, we found ourselves accidentally doing a group hike through through what we were subsequently informed by our dutiful guide was Hyrum's blood that had soaked into the planks in the room where he was shot in the face (and apparently didn't have time to clean it up before he hit the floorboards).

Following behind Grandpa Ezra with the guide tightly at his side, we had all managed to squeeze our sizeable "royal blood" caravan into the small, brick jailhouse. From there, like lambs to the slaughter, we were herded up the narrow staircase from the first floor to the second-story room/jail cell where Joseph and Hyrum bought the farm for a mess of shottage. On the way there, our small, chatty escort pointed out to Grandpa the Mormon version of the Stations of the Cross (without the crosses), showing us the way with a sober sense of earnestness.

At the top of the stairs, we entered the cramped death-to-the-charlatans site of the last fight. I had heard that there were still bloodstains left by the Smiths somewhere on the floor and asked the guide where they were located. He informed us that we were literally standing on top of them.

Thanks for the warning, pal.

He added that a bloodstain was partially covered by a rug spread over the floorboards but was still visible if we looked carefully. Peering down at my feet, I noticed a large, irregular faded spot, outlined by a darker outer ring encased in the wood grain of the planks. The guide said that this was Hyrum’s blood, spilled when he was shot in the face and fell to the floor as he accurately observed, "I am a dead man." I guess you could say it was a bloody good way to go out, but I wouldn't recommend it for anybody who had plans for the weekend.

The guide turned to my grandfather and informed him that the Church had removed a sheet of plexiglass that had previously been used to cover the bloodstain because, he said, the Church did not want to encourage its members to “worship” the blood of the prophets. The guide said that unless visitors to Carthage Jail specifically asked about the whereabouts of the blood, the tour crew did not point it out, and even allowed people to unknowingly tramp through it.

Grandpa nodded soberly. As Hyrum might say if he were alive today, "I don't get no respect."

I remember thinking that the Mormon Church was trying to have it both ways in this Holy of Bullet Holies:

Don't worship the blood, but we'll tell you where it is if you ask and, what's more, we'll fill you in as you're actually standing in the middle of it.

Nice.

When all was said and done, it was kind of like going through an overrated haunted house at the local fair. It wasn't a five-star experience, but you were still expected to act appropriately.

"Is there no help for the widow's son's gun?"



Edited 8 time(s). Last edit at 08/18/2017 04:15AM by steve benson.

He had a full time job keeping up the blood stain for credulous Americans until caught in the act.

Is not merely a consequence of not drawing attention to it. But a way to eliminate its existence altogether.

I guess there was no Crime Scene Cleanup Crew in the olden days.

Especially true at Mountain Meadow where the remains were left moldering in the sun as food for wolves.

Carthage has another museum which is really nice. Besides some really neat exhibits, they have a room where one may learn about more history of Carthage including the 1839 trial in which Daniel H. Wells was on the jury which convicted Abraham Lincoln's client to death. It also has papers about the 1955 death in Canton, Illinois of Janice Maye and the trial in Carthage of the alleged killer, Miller, who was framed and eventually set free by the United States Supreme Court.

On the trials relating to JS et al, much of the papers were stolen - apparently by good Mormons who did not want the whole story told. If they were available I probably would have succeeded in tracing the whereabouts of those indicted but not tried.

Re the trial of Lincoln's client - William Fraime - at least one juror - most likely Wells who, as a lawyer, was likely the foerman of the jury, opined that they were "carrying out the law of Moses". Perhaps a good start to his own actions in the Mormon Reformation, the doctrine of "blood atonement" and in his actions relating to MMM. BTW, today Fraime would not be guilty of first degree murder as it was a bar skirmish.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/17/2017 12:33PM by rhgc.

I remember when we were dragged there on family vacation, would have been in early to mid '60's. You could still view the blood through the glass at that time.

Show me the Luminol !

It seems like a lot of what one sees in that area depends on what year one goes, and with whom--i.e., Mormons--one travels with on the trip. (We were guided by a BYU teacher, and the tour was his summer job.)

The room where Joseph was shot and 'fell' out of the window (and landed on the shooters?), had a lot of discrepancies, as told by our guide. There were (I think) bullet holes in the door of his room, which came from inside--not outside--the room.

The 'sacred' forest we walked through (supposedly where J.S. went to pray), was planted and grown long after his death. And so forth.

After flying to the general tour area, our group was shuffled around to see the sites by way of bus. In N.Y. proper, we saw a Broadway Show; and (supposedly) the Plymouth Rock (about the size of a small 2-door Volkswagen car); and even the--at that time-- brand-new Twin Towers (not long before the one was blown-up by the plane which flew into it's side flanks).

Even weirder than Mormons, we saw a Quaker village (where one woman was watching TV in her living rm.), and their horse and buggy-style transportation vehicle. It seems they also (as do Mormons) pick and choose what modern stuff is OK to use, and when to revert to the horse and buggy stuff. (I Think their main income comes from tourists who shop there, and eat at the 'Quaker' restaurants.

It seems tourists, in general, have to be at least half-way educated to recognize that not all is as advertised.

Even as is true, in general, for Mormonism.