Elizabeth “Grandma” Russell Day (1862–1965): The Heart of Hunter

Elizabeth Russell Day — lovingly known to everyone as “Grandma Day” — was one of Hunter’s earliest settlers and its living link to pioneer days long past. Born in England in 1862, Elizabeth crossed the ocean at just seven years old, arriving in America in 1869. She and her family traveled by railroad to Ogden, then settled in a dugout along the banks of the Jordan River — nothing more than a hole in a slope, roofed with brush and earth, with a fabric door to keep out the wind. With the help of neighbors, her family soon moved into a small log cabin, and young Elizabeth spent her childhood caring for neighboring families like the Boyces until she was thirteen.

In 1882, Elizabeth married Laronzo Day, and together they carved out a life that would root their family firmly in the Hunter community. The newlyweds first lived in Salt Lake, then returned west to settle on family farmland near 6641 West 3500 South. In their early years, they lived in a humble lumber granary, then built a one-room adobe house with a lean-to kitchen for summer cooking. When Laronzo left on a mission in 1898, Elizabeth was left to run the farm and care for their four children alone. She turned hardship into determination — raising chickens, milking cows, skimming cream, churning butter, and hitching up a team and wagon to haul butter, eggs, and coal to Salt Lake City every Saturday to support her family.

Additions were added as their sturdy two-room brick house grew with each child they welcomed. Elizabeth gave birth to eleven children, but heartbreak struck early — six died very young. Despite her losses, Grandma Day pressed forward with faith and tireless energy. For 18 years, Laronzo served as one of the area’s earliest bishops, while Elizabeth served the Hunter Ward Relief Society — 15 years as president and 21 years as first counselor — becoming a pillar of help and comfort for countless neighbors.

She was as devoted to her flower beds as she was to her farm rows. Her gardens — whether a bright patch of flowers by the doorstep or her beloved Victory Garden during wartime — were the pride of her home. Even at 100 years old, Elizabeth still worked in her garden daily, tended her house, did her own laundry, and delighted in fresh salads made with her own greens, tomatoes, and cucumbers. She loved canyon trips with her children, riding in a wagon up the dusty roads, and she never lost her spry spirit or quick smile.

After raising her family and farming side by side with Laronzo until he was 80, they sold the farm and moved next door to their daughter, Mrs. LaVina Nielson. Her husband passed away in 1944, but Elizabeth carried on for more than two decades more, always “peppy and alert.” When she turned 100, she finally decided to move out of her own house and live with family. When she passed away in 1965, at the remarkable age of 103, she was Salt Lake County’s oldest resident — a living testament to the resilience, faith, and neighborly warmth that made Hunter the community it is today.

Grandma Day’s dugout, her butter churn, her garden rows, and her open door remind us that communities are built not just by fences and roads but by mothers who stay rooted, tend the soil, and feed both body and spirit for generations to come.

A poem for Elizabeth…Grandma Day’s Many Gardens

In the dugout by the Jordan, a child first learned to sow,
Where the wind sang through the sagebrush and the water ran slow.
A mother’s hands, a widow’s hands, the butter churn’s hum,
Six little graves in Hallowed soil — yet she rose with the sun.

Her garden was tomatoes warm and roses by the door,
But deeper still she tended souls the way she swept her floor.
Relief Society gathered round her kitchen’s open light,
She fed the hungry, calmed the weary, sat by beds at night.

With coal and eggs she bought her bread, her prayers she paid in care,
A bishop’s wife, a neighbor’s friend, with faith stitched everywhere.
A garden of her children’s laughter, canyon rides and songs,
A garden of the Hunter Ward she carried all along.

At dawn she stooped to tend the rows, her hands in earthen grace,
At dusk she whispered blessings soft on every blooming face.
A century of sowing kindness — cucumbers and prayer —
When Hunter needed tending most, Grandma Day was there.

Love, Sheri B

Elizabeth ‘Grandma’ Day: Hunter’s Faithful Gardener and Neighbor