Pt 19-R: Esther LeBaron Spencer, Me, and More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon

My Memoirs: Part 19-R, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — 
And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon

me-wed-pic
My swollen-eyed Honeymoon photo, October 1963. We Honeymooned in a cheap hotel in Chihuahua City, Mexico; no screens on the windows but plenty of mosquitoes. 


We all come from the past,
and children ought to know what it was
that went into their making.”
Russell Baker



I had never traveled much past my own backyard, especially once we moved, when I was fourteen, to Chihuahua, Mexico, to join the secluded-wilderness LeBaron cult — “Zion.”

But, at age sixteen, when I was married off to twenty-six-year-old Bill Tucker in an arranged marriage, Daddy gave Bill money to take me to Chihuahua City for a week’s Honeymoon.

 I’m so touched Daddy did that — That, though he was not well to do and often mean to me, he cared enough to twist Bill’s arm to take me on a Honeymoon!  Daddy gave him the money in an effort to set up a little better deal for me at the start of my marriage because he felt guilty about having pawned me off onto Bill and his harem when Daddy knew Bill was out of work and couldn’t afford to support the two wives and five children he already had!!

Needless to say, Bill felt obligated to take me on a honeymoon. But he didn’t feel obligated to spend any of the money on me. And he didn’t! But, while in Chihuahua City, on our honeymoon, he took ME shopping to spend $ on his first wife Harolyn — money Daddy meant to be spent to help me get started in my new home because Bill said he couldn’t afford me!

Though I needed so many things for my new household, my new husband spent not a penny on me — other than for cheap lodgings for the both of us, restaurant meals he gobbled down, and gas for our automobile trip — a trip that, I realized years later, was mainly a business and pleasure trip for him: He met with boyfriends and with companies he was dealing with to get them to buy his fryers/pollos when they were ready to be beheaded, defeathered, and marketed.

When I married Bill, he and his two wives were in the process of starting a chicken business that would include a chicken-packing plant. Money to get the family business going would be mostly supplied by his first wife Harolyn’s dowery.

I realize now, Bill, having so recently come upon a little money of his own by way of my father, wanted to ingratiate himself with his jealous Harolyn for having taken me on as a third wife against her will, though she was largely financing his family and their upstart chicken business.

But you can imagine how it hurt 16-year-old-child-bride me, who knew nothing about his family, to be left alone for an hour standing on the sidelines of my own Honeymoon watching the man I loved lovingly look for and pick out a costly gift for his first wife’s upcoming thirty-first birthday — while totally ignoring me.

 It wasn’t fun!
Welcome to Polygamy 101,
And the “Big Love” idea:
“Love-times-three.”
He bought “nada”
For new-homemaker-me.
Take a hint: Polygamy
Is a  big bunch of bull-pucky!
Don’t believe me?
Try it and see.

(Continued March 5, 2018: “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon — Part 19-S”)



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pt 19-Q: Esther LeBaron Spencer, Me, and More Perils of Polygamy

Part 19-Q — Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — 
And More Perils of Polygamy

me, cleavage
Beulah Stephany Spencer-LeBaron, age 57; 36 years after escaping polygamy

 


three-lizards

Could This be Bill with his first two wives,
“horny toads” in a menage a trois?
Sex, drugs, ‘n’ “rock ‘n’ roll” — Rock on!


“The truth told with love and consideration is the key.
An honest account of what you experienced
is what memoir is all about.”
Rita Keeley Brown


Continued from: “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-P”

Getting back to my being in the throes of “The First Grand Head” of the cult, my uncle Ervil LeBaron, and his having a jackhammer thrown into his “perfect plans to marry me off to his pal, Homer (behind my parents’ back) let me give you a little pertinent backstory:

Mother and her siblings, including Ervil, had grown up with Homer Babbitt in the Mormon colonies in Colonia Juarez, Mexico. Blond-haired, blue-eyed Homer was around Momma’s age; that is, 26 years older than I. Extremely shy, he blushed often, highlighting his already red pockmarked face and neck deeply scarred from acne and boils. Sadly, the name “Homer” (Homely) fit him.

But he was a sweet, sensitive, kind, conscientious, considerate gentleman — with money: Quite rare in my neck of the woods. Barely converted from the LDS church to the LeBaron cult and polygamy, Homer was, in marrying me as his plural wife, trying to please both God and his childhood Mormon pal Ervil.

Even so, as I partly related earlier, my parents got busy post haste to covertly thwart Ervil’s plans to barter me off to Babbitt, by going to Bill, behind my back, and exclaiming, “If you want to marry Beulah, right now is your chance. Tomorrow will be too late!” 

But Bill, always the diplomat, countered with, “Beulah is too young. I need to wait a couple more years. I don’t have money to support another wife right now. Can’t even afford to take her on a honeymoon.”

He was REALLY hedging! Mormon fundamentalist Men usually did not take their plural wives on a honeymoon! There was enough trouble in Bedlam (Plyg Town) without them honeymooning each new plural wife. Furthermore, most polygamists couldn’t afford their first wife and her herd of up to possibly twenty-six kids, let alone a honeymoon for each new wife added to the harem.

And new wives meant ultimately even more kids–more expense and time: Each new wife stretched further and further the husband and father from his time and money. In the end, it was mostly the wives and children left to bear the brunt of this hapless, mindless lifestyle.

But true-believing, brainwashed Daddy nevertheless bribed Bill: “How’s about I help you out? I’ll give you some money … more than enough to take my favorite daughter on a honeymoon for a week. How’d that be?

That money sounded good to penniless-pauper Bill. He had to rely too much on the purse strings of his first wife Harolyn (Her parents  sent her money regularly from “The States”) in order to keep his family afloat in the LeBaron colony while he worked to get his chicken business off the ground, including a chicken packing plant for “pollos”/friers.

But wouldn’t you know, it was Ervil finding out about my parents trying to arrange my marriage to Bill that cemented the deal. More on “the deal” in the next blog.

(Continued February 19, 2018: “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-R”)