Most people have never even heard of Benmore, Utah.The tiny town only lasted for a decade. Had members of the Benmore LDS Branch not wanted it to succeed, the community of 20 families in the remote, dry, south end of Rush Valley wouldn't even have survived a couple of years.Now more than eight decades later, an effort is under way to preserve the history of these Mormon homesteads.From the moment Israel Bennion and Charles Skidmore decided to leave the "crowded" Salt Lake Valley for the open space outside of Vernon, the odds were stacked against them. The men were convinced they could dry farm successfully using the stream water from the nearby Sheeprock Mountains. And they wanted to create an ideal town of compatible families."It was impractical from the beginning," said Charmaine Thompson, a Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest heritage specialist who is working with Jenny Beard and ranger Doug Jones to protect the area. "So the town died quickly. It only lasted that long because almost the entire population belonged to the local LDS ward and they supported one another as a ward community. The community would succeed only as much as the ward succeeded. That's what Bennion taught."__IMAGE2__In Bennion's journal, he wrote: "My motives (for Benmore) are about thus: I want this waste place of Zion redeemed; I want the poor Saints provided with homes; I want living here made tolerable now; these certain steps in advancement must come to fruition, or, we slide back."You who have come now ... must apply yourselves ... must not continue to be a tax on those who have helped you; or, behold, we are all ruined together. There will be no place for selfishness, for every selfish thing will perish."There are all manner of archaeological treasures in the area, left by the families who lived in Benmore from 1914 to 1924. They include footings of the community's brick schoolhouse; part of the once grand, two-story Jorgensen home complete with a dugout cellar and garden plot; and bits of glass, tin and pottery. A spoon, a roller skate and pieces of old iron school desks also have been found, and part of the original water system is still visible.In just a few minutes, it's easy to find evidence of a long-ago time. (Just don't pick it up and take it home — that's illegal.)"It needs to stay here in the Forest Service outdoor museum," Thompson said."There's something very evocative about finding evidence of that time. It's fascinating. We want people to know this is here, but we want to preserve the site. We have terrible tendency to undervalue European history in America."Elizabeth Mitchell, a great-granddaughter of Israel Bennion, still lives in the area and often has to warn away people who have metal detectors and shovels. Mitchell is adamant about educating people about the town and its formidable leader."(Bennion) had a vision," Mitchell said. "A lot of people got mad at him because sometimes he just wouldn't let go of an idea. He advocated moving closer to the water. In a way, he was really an early environmentalist." Bennion's sons became prominent figures, perhaps to avoid being forever impoverished on a farm, Mitchell said.They all became well-educated, and Kenneth Bennion became the president of LDS Business College. Mervyn Bennion was captain of the USS West Virginia that was caught in the raid on Pearl Harbor. He died on the deck of that carrier, and his name is listed on the monument. Howard Bennion became president of Edison Electric."My ancestors decided to stay here and run cattle," Mitchell said. "So we're still poor."Mitchell, however, clearly loves the land and is proud of her heritage. "It's my home. I am the place," she said as she surveyed the sagebrush-covered landscape and the gentle hills above her cattle ranch.It hasn't been easy. It's only been in the last several years that the Forest Service, through a number of partnerships (such as one with the Mule Deer Association), has been able to start a few revegetation and restoration projects.The cattle and sheep herds that came through every year grazed the once tall grasses down to dust. The dry farming wasn't working, and after World War I ended, the demand and high price for wheat fell. Residents were desperate. They left — literally — for greener pastures.Those who managed to stay in Benmore did so through the help of those who left after the Agricultural Resettlement Administration came in and paid everyone else to relocate."It was a godsend for them," Thompson said. "You could say it was a 1900s-style bailout."
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