He Knew David Whitmer

He knew David Whitmer

As a soldier of World War II who had buried a brother on a jungle beachhead, my postwar service as a missionary was a welcome and beautiful change—from one of destroying life to one of trying to save it. It was simply overwhelming. And then to be laboring in the historically rich area of Jackson County, within the shadow of the fame and shame of Liberty Jail, the sacred hush of Adam-Ondi-Ahman—all seemed to weave a magic spell. Thus it did not seem too unusual to actually meet someone who had known and talked with David Whitmer. My journal tells the following story: The old gentleman we met was not interested in the Church (and I don’t even remember his name), but he invited us into his lonely house on Elm St. in east St. Jo. He had a story to tell.

“So yer Mormons from Utah, are ya?” he began. “I used to know some Mormons once, down in Richmond. In fact, one of ‘em was one of the original band, I believe. Have either of ya ever heerd of David Whitmer?”

“We sure have,” we told him.

“I used ta know ole man Whitmer when I was a lad,” he went on. “Used ta cut across his back lot on m’way to school. And I was at his house the day he died. In fact, there was a right smart gathering there that day. The old gentleman had been ailing for sometime, but once he roused a bit and asked the doctor if he adjudged him (David) to be of right mind. When assured by the physician that he was still of sound intellect, he slowly turned his head and said, ‘I want to verify again before I die that the Book of Mormon is true. I saw the gold plates. The angel of heaven came down and laid them out before our very eyes.’”

Now, after all the other testimonies that may have been given over the past 152 years by or about David Whitmer and his unfaltering testimony of the Book of Mormon, this simple, unsolicited account by an unidentified bystander may also be worthy of note.

Normand D. Laub
Beryl, Utah