Author: Justin

Phoenix, July 9, 2002
A Memory
We are here today, not to mourn, but to celebrate a great lady, Judy Chen Sekaquaptewa Wagner, whose very name encompasses three of the best worlds.
It was in the later part of the 1940’s when Judy, as a young woman, rebellious, courageous, and curious, left a family of her dentist father and his pharmaceutical company in Shanghai, China; crossed the Pacific; and married Wayne Sekaquaptewa, a brilliant radio engineer/entrepreneur of the great Hopi Nation in Arizona. The quiet union between Judy and Wayne in fact symbolizes an unprecedented gathering of two ancient peoples on two sides of the ocean, who in prehistoric times may have been one and the same. Love and faith propagated the family to grow, starting with four children and now numbering nearly 40 members. Wayne, a very good man of kindness, goodness, and patience, met God’s early call.
Chance encounters brought John Wagner to Judy’s life, and they married some years later. As Goethe once said, and I paraphrase, that the German and Chinese people share the same sentiments, visions, and passions. So did John and Judy have a goodly some 16 years of happy life together. John unfortunately passed away two years ago. Once again, Judy was decimated, never the same again.
Yet, to her brothers and sisters, and I am sure, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, and all her relatives and friends, Judy will remain indelibly in their hearts and minds. She is an extraordinary weaver of peoples and cultures through her pioneering journey and struggles. She is a woman of singular prescience, courage, effervescence, determination, and diligence. But above all, she is a woman with a golden heart.

–Raphael M. Chen (Judy’s brother)

Grandma Freeman’s mother wrote the following:

Nekolai Sorensen Weibel, Son of Frederik Sorensen Weibel and Ane Marie Jensen was born 28 January, 1861 in Tilst Sogn, Denmark. Received his education in Aarhus, graduated at 14 and entered into apprenticeship of four years where he learned the trade of locksmithing. His masterpiece was a miniature scale that could weigh a hair, for which he was awarded a merit card and was given his reference travel book. The custom of the country was to travel about the country for six months, visiting different towns and county seats, registering their craftsmanship. Traveling light with only a knapsack on their backs. On entering a town or city, went to police station and registered and showed their credentials and was given 24 hour stay in towns; in large cities, 48 hours. Finally went to work at Silkeburg, Denmark at a foundry or ironworks. My father was small of stature, dark hair, slightly curled, dashing brown eyes, a ladies man. At Silkeburg, he met my mother in the fall of 1881. A young girl of 15, fresh from the country, tall and slender and a blonde, with sparkling blue eyes, and a mass of beautiful golden hair. She was a daughter of Lars Peter Boelstafte and Mette Yuline Kjerstine Jensen. She was born in March 17, 1866 at Norre Sogn, Denmark. She had come to Silkeburg to visit her maternal grandparents. Through a friend of theirs met my father and it was love at first sight. They were married in Silkeburg, 11 November, 1882. 11 children were born to them, I being number four born 23 July, 1887. Through friends, met the missionaries, and both investigated the gospel about 2½ years unknown to both of them. Meeting by chance one evening was quite surprised, but rejoiced together and were both baptized 9 February, 1885. Late at night far away from prying eyes, as in those days Mormons were shunned and people were not mingling with them. Walked two miles into a wood to a little lake. My father ran ahead, broke the ice, and amid ice and snow were baptized. Two others were baptized the same evening. Then they hurried home to an elder of the church, sat around a warm fire and enjoyed hot chocolate and cake.

When I was five years-old my parents moved to Aarhus, quite a large city. My father was doing well, but anxious to leave for Zion. They talked and planned and prayed and an answer came one day. A group of Saints were leaving soon and a sister Christensen wanted to take me along. Plans were made and I left Aarhus 11 November, 1895 at the age of 8½ years. It was my parents’ 13th wedding anniversary. What a sacrifice never will I forget. That night had a supper and knelt in prayer before leaving for the boat which left at midnight. I between my parents, my one hand held by my father the other held by my mother. The president of the mission offered up a prayer and promised us a safe journey if we would have faith. Kneeling on a bench by the rail of the boat, the last I saw was my mother’s face and pale blue feathers of her hat. A couple days out from Copenhagen, a terrible storm arose. We were on an old boat that was loaded with horses and cattle. It had been condemned for passengers for quite some time but the Saints got lower fares and felt secure in God’s care. About 2am I and another child was rushing on board and tied to the mast. The waves were rolling high and were flooding the ship. Men and women manned the pumps amid prayers and singing the songs of Zion the night wore on and by sunrise the sea was calm again. At breakfast, the old sea Captain, with tears streaming down his face, said he had never seen such a storm. He also said he had been on the sea since he was a small cabin boy and knew for a surety that we had been saved because of the Saints aboard. What a testimony to me. We sailed on with no further trouble and arrived safe and sound 4 December, 1895.

We arrived at Salt Lake early in the morning. How we cried and rejoiced. Seeing the spires of God’s holy temple, gave all renewed courage. We arrived in Moroni, Utah about 2pm the same day. In the fall of 1896 sent a second child, Elise, coming alone with a company of Saints at the age of about 7. She was seven a few days before coming to Moroni, sent to be companion to me. Through sacrifice they were able to prepare for my mother and four small children to come. They arrived in Moroni on the glorious 4th of July, 1898. The kids were 1, 2, 4 & 7. That year mother struggled along with her six children. Finally on 16 November, 1899 my father and oldest brother, 16 years old, arrived in Moroni. Through faith and prayers and friends, our family was finally reunited here in Zion. August 1900, a little brother was born. And in the spring of 1902 they moved to Salt Lake and made their home in the 25th Ward of the Pioneer Stake. Another brother arrived February 1904. 22 September, 1927 they took out their endowments and were sealed for time and eternity in the Salt Lake temple.
My father was a member of the high priest quorum and in good standing when illness overtook him. He moved to California in November 1938 living at Glendora. June 1939 made a trip to see a son in Rupert, Idaho. While visiting there was stricken, and suffered with stroke 3 August 1939. I nursed him there for 11 weeks. Business called me away and due to illness myself, I could not go back. In April 1941 had him moved to South Gate to my home where he passed away Sunday morning 25 January, 1942. A member of the South Gate Ward, a full tithe payer, faithful member, had a burning testimony of the gospel to the last. Patient always during his long illness, asked about his welfare, always said, “Oh, pretty good.” Tried to convey to us his desire to see the bishop, Bishop Magnusson, Bishop Jacobson came in response to our call, dedicated him unto the Lord. Passed away peacefully and was laid to rest at beautiful Rose Hills Memorial Park 31 January, 1942.

He was a great soul, my dad.
Great souls must walk alone.
So much they have to give.
In solitude they rise,
Expand that they may live.
With brush or pen or song.
Like flowers they face the sun,
Inspire the souls of men
until their lives were done.
Lee Williams

He died three days before his 81st birthday.

18333 Capistrano Ave, South Gate Ward, October 22, 1943

My Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I have a strong testimony in the gospel of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know Joseph Smith to be a true prophet sent from God to fulfill the promises given when Jesus was here on earth, and he was sent to restore the gospel in its fullness and I also have lots of testimonies to bear. For me, I believe strong in prayers in silence. I might not be so good to make prayers in public, but I do believe God to hear me when I pray. For one instance I know he did when my dear husband passed away in death. I did not know where one of our boys was and I felt so bad about it and I prayed to God to lead and guide him too. And he was the first one to come of all our children that was not here so I surely know that prayer was answered. When he told when he came he was first to board a train going in opposite direction from here but felt like someone told him he had to go to South Gate, as he was wanted there. So he came to try to give me comfort in my sorrow and I am so thankful to God that he gave me strength to carry on and once again I will bear my testimony. I know that God lives and will hear our prayers if we pray in earnest and with a humble heart. But one thing we must not forget to ask God if it is His will to let us have what we ask for. For my dear Brothers and Sisters, sometimes we pray for things not good for us so let us always remember that. And last, I pray to God that I may live so I can be worthy to meet my dear husband and be with him forever in the Celestial Kingdom and that I hope and pray in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Wilhemine S. Wiebel