Working the Divine Miracle
by Richard D. Poll
Stan Larson, editor
[p.129]If circumstances had led Henry D. Moyle to confine his drive and talents to the livestock business, he would almost certainly have been a successful, prosperous, and happy rancher. It is more difficult to envision Alberta Moyle as a stockman’s wife, but circumstances did not confront her with that necessity.
Henry was at home on the range from boyhood. He followed his father into leadership roles in the Deseret Live Stock Company, the largest land-owning ranch in Utah in the period between the two world wars. When the company was sold to new investors in the early 1950s, over Henry’s opposition, he found a new opportunity for leadership in the burgeoning ranching operations of his church. As apostle and member of the First Presidency, he was the key figure in building the 300,000-acre Orlando Live Stock Company,1 and the last hours of his life were spent at the ranch headquarters in Florida.
James H. Moyle’s initial business connection with the sheep industry came through his mother’s family. A sister of Elizabeth Wood married John Moss of Bountiful, who grazed his flocks on the nearby hills. In time Moss, his sons, the Stearns Hatch family, and several of their Mormon neighbors decided to pool their stock in order to reduce expenses and minimize friction over range and water use. Incorporation became a logi-[p.130]cal next step to bring in capital for land acquisition, and at this point Henry Moyle’s father became involved. He provided the legal services, purchased some stock, and in 1891 became a member of the original board of directors of Deseret Live Stock Company. Henry was just a year old at the time.
The company prospered. Soon the sheep herd numbered more than 50,000 and cattle raising began. Land, principally in Morgan and Rich counties, was purchased from the Union Pacific Railroad, the state of Utah, and private owners—among them D.L.S.C. ranch hands who homesteaded some of the public domain. The company store at Woods Cross, as earlier noted, became very familiar to James and Alice Moyle’s growing family. The boys became acquainted with the dipping, docking, shearing, lambing, herding, and driving that were part of the sheep business. Henry, in particular, also absorbed his father’s enthusiasm for quality cattle and horses.
When the First World War took livestock prices to levels not seen since the Civil War, Deseret expanded spectacularly. More than a half million dollars went for land and improvements astride the Utah-Wyoming line, and holdings in the semi-desert southwest of Great Salt Lake were purchased for winter range. A notable acquisition was the Iosepa Ranch in Skull Valley; mentioned in another chapter; the enterprise was defunct when D.L.S.C. bought the land and water rights from the Mormon church for $150,000. When the expansion program stopped, about a quarter of a million acres were owned or leased by the company. As James H. Moyle’s own shareholdings increased, he gave stock to his children. Later he encouraged them to invest on their own account.
When Henry D. Moyle returned to the law business after his military service, Deseret was one of his first clients. His activities during the 1920s have already been reported. The company did well, but he was not yet a heavy investor and his father still represented the Moyle family interests on the board of directors.
The Great Depression changed the livestock business and Henry’s role in it. He replaced his father on the Deseret board when James H. Moyle went East as a mission president. Then when several of the pioneer leaders died in 1933, he began to exert a strong influence in the company’s affairs. Wool prices had declined catastrophically and the company had discontinued dividends. For a time the company operated on funds borrowed from James H. Moyle. Only drastic retrenchment, in-[p.131]cluding the closing of the Woods Cross store, plus the timely assistance of various federal agricultural credit organizations kept D.L.S.C. from going under during the New Deal years. War in Europe, as in 1914, meant prosperity for American agriculture. The last loan was paid off in December 1940, and Deseret regained unencumbered use of the lands and grazing rights that hard times had imperiled.
The ranch headquarters at Woodruff, Utah, and the various Deseret operations saw a good deal of Henry Moyle during these trying years. Walter Dansie, the new manager, was Henry’s personal choice. In a letter to Hird Stryker, Henry described Densie as a man who is “just my age and has a very much better disposition.” Stryker, an Omaha attorney, had suggested that his son might be employed for a summer at the ranch. Henry responded enthusiastically, cautioning that recently “our ranch properties have been permitted to run down quite badly,” but the youth would have “a good clean bed,” “all he wants to eat,” and compensation at “the going wage.” After taking the boy to Woodruff, Henry reported that he “gave every indication of intending to stick to it.” This would be to his credit, for “we have had many other boys go out to the ranch before now and haven’t been willing to stand the routine.”2
Henry Moyle’s personal delight in being on the ranch is clear in the same Stryker letter: “I rode horseback through two herds of our cattle, and I believe we are developing one of the finest herds of Herefords in the country. We had one bunch, 600 head of yearlings, that were as uniform and well-bred as any I have ever seen.” He added that he and three other men had killed “over a ton of rabbits” in two hours. “I don’t know when I have had so much fun rabbit-shooting.”
Never losing faith that the livestock industry would make a a comeback, Henry purchased Deseret Live Stock Company stock in the 1930s as it became available. James H. Moyle continued to encourage other members of his family to do so, and in time all of them did. Walter purchased a large block from the William Moss estate and became, next to his father, the largest shareholder. But age and absence kept Henry’s father and brother from playing an active part in the operations of the company, while Henry’s own interest and good working relationship with
Dansie naturally brought him to the fore. Because he made some stock [p.132]purchases through intermediaries to avoid generating an artificially high price, he was later criticized when the industry did recover and D.L.S.C. shares appreciated in value. It appears that the pressure that led some stockholders to make sales they later regretted was the pressure of the economic depression that almost forced Deseret into liquidation.
The organization of the company during the war years reflected the new stock ownership. James H. Moyle was president until his death, with Henry as vice president and Dansie as secretary-treasurer and manager. Two of the Moss cousins and Henry’s youngest brother, James, were on the board of directors. Henry succeeded to the presidency in 1947, the same year he became an apostle. By then the livestock holdings had stabilized at about 40,000 sheep and 4,000 cattle, dividends were being paid, and Dansie had built a ranch headquarters more appropriate to the size of the operation and the entertaining of important visitors. Henry’s church duties now made his own visits to Deseret properties less frequent, and at fifty-seven he had lost some of his zest for shooting jackrabbits. Dansie now handled the livestock operations, and David Lawrence McKay, the legal aide side of the business. But Henry Moyle supervised activities with the same vigor and vehemence that he brought to every activiry for which he felt responsible.
During Henry’s presidency, D.L.S.C. moved in two new directions. The establishment of military reservations cost the company its grazing rights on public land it had been leasing near Dugway, Utah. This necessitated buying acreage for winter pasture in eastern Nevada near Pilot Peak, the landmark on the Old California Trail. Herds and flocks with Deseret brands were now to be found in three states. The movement ftom one range to another by truck or train was a good deal less romantic—and less arduous for man and beast—than the trailing that Henry Moyle had witnessed as a youth.
To take advantage of the salt deposits on some company properties near Great Salt Lake, the Deseret Salt Company was launched in the early 1950s. It was slow developing and ultimately proved unprofitable to those who took over ownership of D.L.S.C. in 1953.
A tug-of-war over what to do with the Deseret Live Stock Company began when the business revived after the Depression and continued for fourteen years. It divided the stockholders, and unfortunately members of the Moyle family found themselves on opposite sides. Walter, now a very successful attorney in Washington, D.C., had no personal interest in [p.133]sheep and cattle; he became a spokesman for the shareholders who favored selling the company if a good price could be obtained. Henry, who saw a bright future for both livestock and land, resisted selling and encouraged other shareholders to do the same. Their father, as president, was in the middle. Emotionally he sided with his oldest son, but when a tender of $19 per share was proposed in 1945, he responded favorably. The deal fell through and at the end of the decade shares were selling at $12 to $14.
By then James H. and Alice Moyle were gone and their D.L.S.C. holdings were in the hands of their children and the James H. Moyle Genealogical Society, of which Elder Henry D. Moyle was the prime mover. He, not surprisingly, was still bullish and still buying. Walter and an apparently increasing number of shareholders were urging that the company be sold. Henry included a bit of self-revelation in a letter to Walter in December 1948: “I either want to be free to do with this company as my best judgment dictates or as I said before, I think it is best that I should get out of it entirely.”
The Korean War carried wool and meat prices, D.L.S.C. net worth, earnings, and dividends to unprecedented levels. The $2 million company, with its quarter-million acres of land, 40,000 sheep, and 5,000 cattle, was more attractive than ever. Eventually a group of Salt Lake City investors made an offer that nobody could resist. Attracted by the mineral possibilities in some D.L.S.C. land as well as the livestock operations, Ken Garff, David L. Freed, and David A. Robinson began buying shares at substantially higher prices than had previously been available. Henry Moyle opposed the sale and urged others to hold out, too. Most of the shareholders elected to sell.
Only after exploring legal and other ways to block the take-over did Henry finally negotiate with the new group. In January 1953 he accepted an offer of $27 per share for his own substantial holdings, on the condition that the same price be available to all of the other holdouts who wished to take advantage of it. A few weeks later he conducted the stockholders meeting at which new officers were approved and a new board of directors was installed, with Marriner S. Eccles as chairman. The stockholders approved a resolution thanking Henry D. Moyle for his service in “upbuilding the company”—a service that now ended after more than thirty testing, sometimes turbulent, and ultimately profitable years. It was not, however, goodbye to the special challenge of “upbuilding” [p.134]the herds, pastures, and other assets of a great livestock company. For Henry Moyle, rancher, had by now transferred the focus of his attention from the mountain meadows and sagebrush plains of Utah to the palmetto swamplands of central Florida. He was president of the 150,000-acre Orlando Live Stock Company.
When Heber Meeks, recently released president of the Southern States Mission, first talked to Henry about cattle raising possibilities in the southeastern United States, both men were thinking about a possible Deseret Live Stock Company move in that direction. Early in 1948 Meeks went on a company retainer and began prospecting for land in Florida and Georgia. Walter Dansie received his periodic reports. The board of directors knew of Meeks’s activities, but most of them were more interested in selling than expanding. No recommendation firm enough to demand a decision came until August 1949. The Peavy-Wilson tract, 52,000 acres near Melbourne, Florida, was available for about $7 per acre.3
Though the other directors were still unenthusiastic, they asked both James and Walter Moyle to inspect several Florida tracts, including the Peavy-Wilson property. Walter negotiated some purchase options, but neither he nor James thought the venture appropriate for Deseret. Florida was a long way away, ranching there presented very different problems, and Dansie had his hands full already. As Walter expressed to his older brother: “Were you free to give your time and recognized ability to such an operation, it would be different, but the facts are uncontradictable that you do not have the time and energy for that purpose.”
The board was convinced, but not Henry Moyle. The opportunity was too good to be missed. If Deseret would not provide the funds, then who would? During the last two months of 1949 Henry took time out from a tour of the Southern States Mission to meet Heber Meeks, inspect four large parcels between Orlando and Melbourne, and buy or confirm options on them. He also found not one, but two fund sources for the purchases.
One was multimillionaire Henry Crown, board chairman of Material Services Corporation, a business acquaintance of Henry’s son-in-law, Frank Wangeman, whom Henry met in Chicago on the way to the south-[p.135]ern states. Crown’s reaction, as Wangeman reported, suggests that Henry Moyle must have been at his persuasive best: “He told me that he was very favorably impressed with you and that he was ready to go through with the deal if you found it okeh.”
The other sponsor—and Henry Moyle’s only choice if its leaders were willing—was the Mormon church.
Henry’s work with the Church Welfare Program, discussed elsewhere, included locating, acquiring, and supervising cattle, sheep, and hog operations that served as stake or multi-stake projects. As an apostle, he continued to be closely associated with this aspect of welfare operations. He and Joseph L. Wirthlin, a counselor in the Presiding Bishopric and then Presiding Bishop, spearheaded the acquisition of substantial properties in Canada and California. 4 A collaboration with Stockton Stake president Wendell B. Mendenhall in putting together a spread in California’s San Joaquin Valley was the beginning of a relationship that profoundly affected the church building program when Henry Moyle was called to the First Presidency a few years later. It was quite natural that Henry should think of Florida as a church project when it became clear that D.L.S.C. was not interested.
How early Elder Moyle began to talk with President Clark and Wirthlin about the possibility is not clear. In November Wirthlin and Clifford E. Young, an Assistant to the Council of the Twelve, looked at the land that had been optioned and were favorably impressed. A detailed recommendation from Wirthlin was ready for consideration at the end of the Christmas holidays. It described the lands as low lying, partly swampy, but suitable for cattle, citrus, and lumber production. Breeding experiments with Brahma cattle promised to produce a strain better suited to market requirements than the breeds traditionally raised in Florida. Cattle operations should become profitable in a couple of years in spite of high land improvement costs. The per-acre price was low and the land would surely appreciate in value.
That Henry D. Moyle, then a very junior apostle, was the individual most responsible for the proposal’s acceptance by the First Presidency is clear. Part of the case was direct financial benefit. The growing church needed resources beyond its tithing income and the Florida lands would [p.136]be an appreciating asset as well as an income producer. Part of the case was welfare related. As President Moyle told a reporter a dozen years later: “We have undertaken … these projects to develop and reclaim land which was relatively worthless when we acquired it, in order that we might have in case of need, acreage upon which we could place distressed families from anywhere in the world and make it possible for them to largely take care of themselves.”
President Clark, it appears, had become a Florida advocate already. President McKay was convinced by the reasons advanced, bur he became an enthusiast as the project grew and he later saw it at first hand. President Stephen L. Richards concurred, bur he was always a bit skeptical. Elder Moyle’s role has been misstated by some critics and admirers. Since he had the Henry Crown alternative, there was no need for him to “unload” anything on the church. On the other hand, since he never bought the Florida lands, he could not “give” them to the church. It appears that neither he nor Deseret Live Stock Company sought or received payment for whatever was spent on options.
Once the First Presidency approved, Orlando Live Stock Company came into existence quickly. It was a private corporation, chartered under Florida law. The officers were Henry D. Moyle, president; Joseph L. Wirthlin, vice president; and Heber Meeks, secretary and treasurer. Walter Dansie, David Lawrence McKay, and the officers comprised the board of directors. Moyle, Wirthlin, and McKay were the only stockholders. The company operated as a non-tax-exempt enterprise, outside the Welfare Program, with funds borrowed from the church.5
Two days after the articles of incorporation were signed on 18 January 1950, Elder Moyle, Wirthlin, and McKay left for Florida, depositing $1 million in a Chicago bank on the way. Henry Moyle returned nineteen days later, having—with the help of his colleagues—closed deals for 135,000 acres of land, opened negotiations for another 50,000 acres, installed Meeks as ranch manager, and launched a search for livestock and equipment.6 On the basis of the officers’ optimistic reports, the First Presidency advanced another $1 million for 1950 operations and Orlando [p.137]Live Stock Company was on its way.
Pains were taken at first to minimize the church role. That the company officials were prominent Mormons was obvious, but Elder Moyle told the reporter for the Miami Daily News on January 31: “It’s strictly a business venture . … We’ve been in the livestock business in Utah for a long time and intend to remain in it there.”7
No project more closely engaged Henry D. Moyle’s attention during the next twelve and a half years than the management and development of the Florida ranch. He fitted at least one or two inspection visits every year into his crowded schedule, conducted the meetings of the board of directors, arranged financing, and maintained frequent dialogue with the on-site managers by mail, telegraph, and telephone. Heber Meeks, Henry Jorgenson, Walter Dansie,8 and Leo Ellsworth successively held the managerial post; David Lawrence McKay handled much of the legal business; Wendell Mendenhall and later others were added to the board of directors; and Bishop Wirthlin brought experience and expertise to his role as vice president. Much local business was handled through Florida banks, law firms, and other companies. But no one in Florida or Salt Lake City doubted that Henry Moyle—who had the support of President McKay—was the man “in charge.”
A vivid image of Elder Moyle’s enthusiasm comes from Saul Haas, who met the apostle while negotiating the sale of his Seattle radio and television properties to the church. Haas later told Bonneville Corporation president Arch Madsen how Henry Moyle showed him a well-worn map of part of Florida and said: “My grandfather came west to make the soil fertile by putting water on it. I went to Florida to make the land fertile by taking the water off.” And he described how the church ranch had been put together, piece by piece. Each tract was marked on the map.
More was involved, of course, than merely draining swamplands. Many questions had to be answered, and experience showed some answers to be better than others. To what purposes should the land—200 square miles in the beginning and almost 450 square miles a decade later—be [p.138]put? How far should the company diversify?
There were already some citrus groves, and vegetables and other fruits were possibilities. Experiments with grapefruit, watermelon, cucumbers, and other specialty crops were not commercially successful, and farming was in time confined to crops that could be used in the ranch operations. There was timber, too, though most of it was more suitable for paper and box making than for dimension lumber. Substantial investment of capital and the know-how of David L. Stoddard, who grew up in the Oregon lumber industry, did not end up with a financially viable lumber operation.
Henry Moyle himself discouraged Dansie’s reforestation plan on the ground that it would take too long to produce a return on the investment. Indeed, there was a point early in 1954, when many of the diversification efforts had proved disappointing, when Heber Meeks and Stoddard had departed and Henry Jorgenson had died, that Elder Moyle himself almost lost faith in the project. The alternative, he wrote to Dansie—who had agreed to hold the fort until a new manager could be found—might be either to sell the ranch or to cut back operations except for pasture maintenance until it could be proved that the investment could produce a profit. Despair was a very short-term phenomenon with Henry Moyle, however. Soon Leo Ellsworth was appointed manager and the expansion and improvement program was resumed.
If the focus was to be almost exclusively on livestock, then what livestock? Henry told the Miami reporter that sheep ought to be a good business in Florida: “they’ve just never been tried on the right basis.” He soon concluded that finding the right basis had best be left for another time. There were 10,000 cattle and 400 sheep on the ranch at the end of 1950. Six years later there were 20,000 cattle and no sheep at all. By the end of 1960 cattle numbered over 50,000, about 60 percent of them for sale and 40 percent in the breeding herd.
This growth reflected the confidence that the Orlando Live Stock Company pioneers had in the cross-breeding experiments going on in Florida when the company was launched. Disease and heat-resistant Brahmans from India were crossed with local animals. Then purebred Angus, Hereford, and Charolais were introduced, producing new strains carrying such names as Brangus, Braford, and Charbray. They showed signs of their mixed ancestry, but they produced excellent beef.
The church ranch was one of the first Florida operations to apply these experiments on a large scale. The first herds consisted of animals pur-[p.139]chased from nearby ranches and additional buying was done as new land was ready to be grazed. Soon D.L.S.C. cattle were taxing the acreage in pasture, while selective culling and breeding produced improving quality.
The next step in applying scientific research to the breeding process came after Henry Moyle became a member of the First Presidency. His zeal for the church ranch undiminished at seventy-two, he told his associates in the presidency and Council of the Twelve in October 1962: “He believes we are the only outfit in America that has developed this artificial insemination on beef cattle. …” Pregnancy rates among heifers bred artificially were 98 percent; furthermore, “you do not see better or fatter cattle anywhere in the West.”
By then the church leadership had responded to Leo Ellsworth’s suggestion that the Florida land and climate were better suited to producing calves than to feeding cattle for market. A 3,500-acre feed lot operation was established in 1958 near Albany, in southwestern Georgia. Organized as Deseret Farms of Georgia, its officers and financial structure were almost identical to the Orlando company, which was redesignated Deseret Farms of Florida. Until after President Moyle’s death, almost all the calf crop from the Florida ranch was sold to the Georgia company for fattening and marketing. Later the feedlot was sold to Ellsworth. By the time a National Geographic writer visited the ranch in 1973, he could describe it as “actually a nursery,” shipping calves to commercial feedlots all over the United States. The same reporter remarked to Harvey Dahl, by then the manager, that the pastures looked very rich. “It took fourteen years to get them that way,” Dahl replied. “The ranch brought in forty-two tractors, with big forks to lift out the palmetto. Then the land was fertilized and put to good grass. Before, it took thirty acres to support one cow. Now three acres “I’ll do it.”9
Those “up-building” years were the Henry Moyle years. In addition to tractors, fertilizer, and seed, the process involved ditching and diking, digging wells, building fences and roads, installing pumps and power generators, coping with rustlers, recruiting and housing employees, and cultivating local politicians and the press. Elder Moyle was in the middle of it. He shopped New York for “work clothes and poison antidotes for snake bites.” He quarreled with Henry Jorgenson over where to build a [p.140]ranch house, administered to him after his first heart attack, rejoiced in his temporary recovery, and then paid the hospital bill after the manager’s death. He presided at a Pioneer Day picnic at which four hundred pounds of barbecued beef were served to a crowd that included local public officials and business leaders. He sent his youngest son, Richard, to spend a couple of summers working at the ranch, an opportunity that the youth viewed without enthusiasm but later came to see as of some benefit. He lobbied with Florida governors for roads and with Secretary of Agriculture Ezra Taft Benson for help in fighting the screwworm that was decimating cattle herds. He pursued his vision of the church ranch so relentlessly that one Floridian who later became a Mormon bishop “almost didn’t join the church because of Henry Moyle.” On the other hand, he gave college scholarships to more than one young man who worked on the ranch and he spent hours listening to the problems of Latter-day Saints in the ranch community.
In the January 1950 interview Elder Moyle assured the Miami reporter that “it’s not a Mormon migration.” Florida hands would be used when feasible. From the outset the key people were church members from the West, however, and employment of local labor produced such mixed results that primary reliance came to be placed on people recruited in Deseret Live Stock Company territory. Ten families, with forty children, moved to the ranch from eastern Nevada early in 1950. Initially the newcomers met with the Melbourne Branch, but soon a new Peer Park Branch was holding meetings in improvised quarters on the ranch.10
To avoid possible religiously motivated opposition, the leaders of the Orlando Live Stock Company maintained the facade of corporate autonomy as long as they could. It lasted only until President Clark’s first visit. When the eighty-one-year-old second counselor in the First Presidency met with a group of local business leaders in Melbourne late in 1952, he told them that “the ranch was a church project in which we have the tithes of the church invested.” According to Elder Moyle’s diary, “It came as a shock to me and Bishop Wirthlin. We had no other alternative than to make the best of it.”
Actually it made little difference. The Orlando spread was already be-[p.141]ing called the Mormon Ranch, and as the quality of its cattle improved, its reputation grew. President Moyle could report to the general authorities later that ranch personnel were in demand “to become presidents of all the county cattle organizations and the state organization, too.” Services like utilities and county road extensions depended upon fiscal and political rather than sectarian considerations. Land acquisitions depended upon availability, price, and continuing infusions of church funds.
When Henry Moyle told the Miami Daily News reporter, “We do not expect any large and immediate return,” he did not anticipate that the point of profitability would be so long in coming. Cattle and produce sales just about covered operating expenses, including substantial interest payments, on a year-to-year basis in the 1950s. But equipment, buildings, and the cost of such permanent improvements as canals and roads depended upon borrowing. Land purchases were similarly dependent upon church funding, and this ultimately depended upon the support of President McKay. That the project enjoyed this backing is reflected in comments in Elder Moyle’s diary during the October 1956 conference. At a meeting with Ellsworth and Moyle, the church head agreed to come to the ranch in November—his first visit. Furthermore:
He instructed us in the meantime to go forward with our present program to continue the development of the land, both at our present headquarters on the Carroll Ranch and on the Peavy property and the Sun Grove property, making three headquarters in place of one and extending the development of the ranch beyond the 50,000 acres originally projected.
President McKay also approved of a program which would speed up this work and let us accomplish the end result as quickly as possible while Brother Ellsworth is there to direct the work. He also approved the purchase of an additional 3,000 cows and authorized me to make application for another million dollars. … The President seemed to be very pleased with the results of our discussion.
Bishop Wirthlin had very recently reported “several requests from individuals in Florida who are anxious to purchase some of the farm property, all of which is an indication to all of us that sooner or later this wonderful investment by the church will return a marvelous profit.” Neither he nor Elder Moyle anticipated selling soon. Two properties aggregating 89,000 acres were added in the year after President McKay’s visit. [p.142]Fortune magazine reported the purchase with a picture of Henry Moyle and the comment: “The purchases raise the amount of ranch land the church owns in Florida (where there are only 2,996 Mormons) to 300,000 acres—all of it operated as a tax-paying business.”11
Holdings did not actually reach that figure for another couple of years, and at that point land buying on a large scale stopped. Not because Henry Moyle thought Deseret Farms of Florida was big enough, but because other church undertakings—chapels, temples, schools, and missions—were absorbing resources and the attention of the First Presidency of which he was now a member. The $20 million advanced to build the “Mormon Ranch” had so far returned interest payments only. On the last day of his life, President Moyle was still trying to find ways to increase that return.12
At about the same time ranch operations reached the break-even point, Disney World opened its doors only twenty miles away; launching the boom that would multiply the market value of Deseret Farms land tenfold and then a hundredfold. A reserve for a time of need—as Henry Moyle had said in the beginning.
5. When it became clear after a few years that much of the debt would be long-standing, the capital structure of the still-growing company was reorganized, making the church a stockholder as well as a creditor.
7. When Frank Wangeman told Henry Crown why the proposed joint venture had not been consummated, he described Henry Moyle as having been “asked to use his organizing ability and put the deal through for the benefit of a benevolent trust to which he has devoted a great part of his own life and resources. …”
10. In December 1957 President McKay dedicated a chapel for the newly designated Ellsworth Branch. When Henry Moyle attended his last service there in 1963, the branch was a unit in the Orlando Stake.