Stories From the Tree

Ancestor story • Isaac Hill

Twice Struck by the Impossible: The Miraculous and Tragic Life of Isaac Hill

June 25, 1857 – August 27, 1912  •  Surname: Hill

Behind every name on a family tree is a life that was lived—but some lives seem to carry a unique, almost cinematic weight. That is certainly true for my 3rd great-grandfather, Isaac Hill. When you look at his timeline, he appears to be a quiet, hardworking pioneer who spent his days tilling the soil of St. Charles, Idaho. But beneath that quiet surface lies a life bookended by the impossible.

A Disappearing Act and a Miraculous Recovery

Isaac’s life was marked by the extraordinary from a very young age, long before he ever built a homestead in the Bear Lake Valley. A written family history recalled by his sister, Elizabeth Hill Johnson, reveals a terrifying childhood accident that took place while the family was living in Salt Lake City.

Elizabeth recalled a seemingly normal afternoon that suddenly took a supernatural turn. Her sister Sarah was playing with a friend who had snatched some quilt blocks. As Sarah ran off to get them back, she called for Elizabeth to help. Elizabeth remembered:

"As I started to go to help her I had to pass the wood pile that was just outside the window and thought I saw my brother Isaac standing there. I held out the quilt blocks to him and told him to take them in the house and as I said this he vanished into thin air".¹

As the sisters stood frozen with uncertainty at the sudden apparition, a boy from a neighboring ranch came racing up on a horse with horrific news. Miles away, little Isaac had just been run over by a heavy agricultural roller – a massive iron or stone cylinder used to flatten soil. The impact was devastating, and the boy told them Isaac was dead.

Elizabeth and Sarah rushed to the ranch, where they found Isaac's little form lying on a bed, unconscious and seemingly lifeless. When their parents arrived, Isaac's father checked his chest and felt a faint heartbeat. Together with the ranch owner, they administered a priesthood blessing. Within moments, Isaac miraculously opened his eyes, regained consciousness, and within a few days was up and running around as if nothing had ever happened.²

Building a Legacy in Bear Lake

That resilient boy grew even more when his family was called to help settle Bear Lake County, moving to St. Charles, Idaho.

The early years were brutal, marked by freezing winters reaching 40 degrees below zero, crop-destroying grasshopper plagues, and near-starvation.

Isaac grew up learning exactly what it took to survive the rugged Idaho frontier.

In the summer of 1879, Isaac’s father, Isaac John Hill Sr., passed away. Standing on his own two feet at age 22, Isaac married his bride, Rebecca Tremelling, just a few weeks later. Over the next two decades, Isaac firmly established himself as a dedicated farmer and stockman, raising a bustling household of thirteen children. He was a pillar of the St. Charles community—a man deeply rooted in the quiet, steady rhythm of agricultural life.³

A Sudden Bolt of Lightning

But history has a way of delivering the most unexpected and heartbreaking plot twists.

On August 27, 1912, a 54-year-old Isaac was out in the St. Charles fields putting up hay with his neighbors. Suddenly, what local newspapers described as "the most severe electric storm that ever passed over St. Charles" rolled violently over the valley.

As the sky darkened and thunder crashed, the workers scrambled, running together toward shelter. Everyone made it to safety. Except Isaac.

In a terrifying flash, a single bolt of lightning struck Isaac directly in the top of the head, killing him instantly. The local paper spared no vivid details of the raw force of nature, reporting that the bolt "ranged down the back of his neck, coming over his shoulder and down his body tearing his trousers to shreds below the knees, and tearing his shoes from his feet."^{4, 5}

There is a bittersweet poetry to Isaac Hill’s journey. He was a man who survived a nearly fatal farm accident as a boy, spent a lifetime conquering the Idaho frontier while raising a large family whose many descendants include me, and was finally taken in an instant by a sudden bolt of lightning in his own backyard.

Behind his name on the family tree isn't just a birth and death date. There is a story of survival, legacy, and a memory that still echoes out of the St. Charles soil more than a century later.