by Grant Halverson
Father; Thomas Halverson
Born; 3 November, 1865, Gronheden, Hjorring, Denmark
came to Utah in 1884
Married; 2 July, 1890, Manti Temple, Sanpete County, Utah
Died; 17 June, 1951, Spanish Fork, Utah
Mother; Emma Johanna Ottesen
Born; 20 December, 1871, Spanish Fork, Utah
Died; 26 January, 1972, Spanish Fork, Utah
|Thomas, Reed, Lyman, Grant, Allen, Emma, Emma|
I can faintly remember my grandparents on the Halverson side. They used to talk a little Danish, but I learned very few words.
I remember very little about my grand parents. I do remember my grandmother Ottesen and her little bay pony and her single seat buggy. She would come to our house and I would take care of her horse. She died at our house and one of her last requests was to see her pony. I led it to the door so she could have a look at it.
Our home was a kind of headquarters for relatives when they came to Spanish Fork and there was always meals for them. Different families of the ward would visit on Sundays. As all families had children we would have a lot of fun playing hide and seek, kick the can, Ginnie and Run my sheep run, and other games.
Our family lived as all farm families did at that time. We, as children learned as we grew up that we had our chores and different obligations to take care of. We needed to get in the wood and coal for the old kitchen range, and in the winter for a heater in another part of the house. As we got a little older we milked the cows, fed the pigs and calves as well as helped mother in the house. There was always churning to be done (a dasher churn for butter), the washer to turn, dishes to wash, water to be carried in from the old well back of the house. I always preferred to work outdoors with the livestock, especially the horses, so my brother Reed helped a bit more in the house.
Mother was a real ambitious woman and wanted things done when they needed it. She was of medium height and rather slim and straight, blue eyed and sort of brown hair. She always took part in Church activities such as; choir, relief Society, etc. She was always busy keeping us kids in line and along with general house work she used to sing a great many old time songs.
One of our duties was to cut and wind rug rags and she would sing while we did that. The long strips of fabric would later be made into rugs.
Dad, as I always called him, was real even tempered, very seldom criticizing us very severely. I never can remember of him giving us kids a lick of any kind. Maybe a little push on the shoulder. He would read stories to us when we were small but never did much running or playing fast games. He would play table games, cards, etc.
My brothers and sisters were: Thomas Lyman, William Vernal, then myself, Andrew Reed, Clara, Allen Wilford, Emma (who died at age three), Grace (adopted girl who died in infancy), and Fern (adopted girl).
Dad was called on a mission to Denmark when Lyman and Vernal were small boys. Consequently, there was about six years between Vernal and me. Lyman went to Magna to work and then into the service and Vernal went to school and in the service while I was still young.
Reed and I used to take the cows to the pasture and bring them back. On one trip we went on two separate horses. Big trees grew where the cows would go to rub themselves. I went through the trees on the horse and the trees wiped me right off. I got up and pulled my horse out of the trees, but Reed didn't even turn out of the trees, and came through the same way I had and he got wiped off the same way I had.
One time we went to an 80 acre pasture to get the cows. Mother would never let us go without shoes, but this time we took our shoes off and left them when we got to the road. When we got to the pasture the cows were clear at the other end of that 80 acres. Usually when we hollered they would come, but they wouldn't move, so, there was nothing to do but go get them. We had to go through greese woods and salt grass and that is a bad combination on bare feet. I had a new bare of overalls that were kind of long anyway, so, I undid the suspenders and pulled the legs down under my feet so I could walk on the legs of the overalls. We got the cows out and came home.
One day we were hauling hay, and we got the last load of hay loaded. It was up to the kids to get the fire wood in and we thought this was a good time to do it. We knew about a big popular tree down on a piece of land and it was dead. So, we asked dad if we could take the wagon and horses and go get some wood off that old tree. He went in to have a snack between loads so we took the wagon and a long rope and climbed up in the tree. It was a tall old tree. We had planned to tie it to the wagon and let the horses pull it over. But, I yelled to Reed (just foolen') "OK", pull it over. He gave the rope a pull and down it came with me in the top of it midst all those branches. Man, it was quite a crash. I was kind of shook up for awhile but no other bad results. Reed laughed his head off. We were gathering up branches and putting limbs on the wagon when dad came to check on us. We told dad what had happened and he just said, "Shouldn't do things like that." That was all.
I remember a runaway we kids had with the tinder wagon for the threshing machine. Leo Banks, Clifford King and myself climbed on the wagon to play. There were barrels of water in one end and fine coal in the other. When they started the steam engine for threshing, the horses took off with us kids in the wagon straight out across the field. Leo was finally able to get hold of one of the lines and then we went round and round. When the threshing crew finally got the horses stopped, you should have seen us. With all that fine coal and water all over us we were a hard looking sight.
Dad and I always got along real well working together. He didn't get cross or out of patience. Just went along and got the job done. I remember once a fellow came along to visit with dad while I was plowing in the field. He was real worried that "that kid" was sure to get those rows crooked, and he was doing a lot of fussing about it. Finally, dad just said, "Well, its my boy and my field, so, I guess you don't need to worry about it. I sure did work to get those rows straight after that.
Our home was a kind of headquarters for relatives when they came to Spanish Fork and there was always meals for them. Different families of the ward would visit on Sundays. As all families had children we would have a lot of fun playing hide and seek, kick the can, Ginnie and Run my sheep run, and other games.
The first school I attended was Palmyra school which was located about 3/4 of a mile from home. We always walked to school in winter and summer. There were no sidewalks, only dirt roads, but no cars to run over us. The school had one large room with an entrance on the West. There were hooks on the wall to hang coats and caps and a place to put overshoes. There was shelf for lunch pails. School lunches weren't even thought of. Everyone looked out for themselves. There were blackboards around the room and the stove stood in the northwest corner. We had six grades in one room. Three of us; Preal Banks, Reed Hansen and I were the same age.
The school ground was dirt and salt grass. Those who rode horses to school tied them to a pipe or something between poles.
One time us younger kids decided to plant a garden and we cleared a piece of ground the size of a good sized room. When people would come to the amusement Hall next to the school for their entertainment's they would walk on our garden. So, we built traps around our spot. We would dig holes and then cover them with twigs and salt grass so they would step in them and keep away from our garden. I guess it worked some.
Mary Thomas was teacher in Palmyra. She would ride from Spanish Fork to Palmyra to school every day (4--5 miles). She taught all the grades. Another teacher, Mr. McCallister would go to all the schools to teach music. About all we learned was do-re-me-fa-sa-la-te-do. He made his rounds on a horse. We went that way until the sixth grade and then we went to Spanish Fork to Central School. From there to Thurber School where I graduated from the eighth grade with Johnny Morgan and Will Cornaby as my teachers.
I don't know what was the matter but I had something during those years that sure did bother me. I had a pain in my side that kept me from doing a lot of things. It seemed like if I kept moving around I got along pretty good, but there were things I couldn't do. To sit in a school room would nearly drive me crazy. One year I was only able to go to school about half the time. I remember being called up to the board, but when I raised my arm I had to raise my leg because it was so sore in my side. If I rode a wagon I had to put one leg up on the front of the wagon. But I survived. I don't believe I ever went to a doctor.
When we went to Spanish Fork (School) we were transported in a wagon with a long box on it with seats down each side made of a long board. It had a canvas cover stretched over the wagon bows (covered wagon) and was pulled by a pair of horses. The year I was in the 8th grade I hauled about a dozen kids to school as there were to many of them for one wagon. I had a pair of ponies, Old Fly and Noodle, and a large double buggy type thing remodeled to accommodate the seating problem. There was fellow from Palmyra taking students from Lake Shore to school. He thought he had a pretty fancy outfit and was always urging for a race. He finally got his race and I got called in for racing with a wagon full of kids.
There were several small schools in different communities. Lake Shore, Leland, Palmyra and they used to compete in basketball and taking programs to each others wards. The main games at school were marbles and baseball. In the winter time we did a lot of skating and sleigh riding. When we were older kids we used to go down on the lake when ice was about right. I always had two ponies. One with sharp shoes and another with regular shoes. We would get a string of kids on skates behind the horse and we would really go. We used to sleigh ride a lot, too. I had a little team and we made the sleigh with 2x4 by eight foot runners, and then putting flooring lumber across them about 6 or eight feet long. We would tack something up in front with canvas on it to make a dash so that the stuff from the horses feet wouldn't hit us in the face. We didn't have a tongue on the outfit, but it was the best thing in the world to cut razzoos with, and that team got so it could stand in the middle and turn around and the sleigh would go around and around til we would finally go off that thing just a sailing. The boards were on there lengthwise and it was slick and we'd try to hang on but we would all go sailing off. All we had to do was holler "Whoops" and the horses would stop. We would drive to the corner and trot back and go again. I would sleigh ride with the kids until one time I froze my foot. I had a big sore on it so I had to wear a big slipper with the side cut out of it.
There was no radio, TV and so forth at that time, but we did have a phonograph which had a crank on the side. Each time we put a record on we had to wind it up. The records at that time only played one tune so it was a steady job winding if you wanted much music. I remember of going to bed at night and giving my brother, Allen 25 cents to keep the music going for an hour or so.
We would go to the show once in a while. We would go to the Winoha Theater. They would have traveling people come around and put on stage shows. That was quite a deal. They would give groceries away on family night. I didn't see a talking movie until after we were married. Ted Thomas and Arvilla and Min and I went over to Provo to the Paramount Theater to see the first talkie movie that came around. That was Al Jolson in "SonnyBoy". He sang all those sad songs. We got outside and Ted's eyes were all red and swollen and he said, "I don't mind bawling, but I'm so ugly when I cry. This was about 1930.
When I graduated from the eighth grade I quit school and worked on the farm, as well as other odd jobs. I usually worked with a team of horses. Some of the jobs were building a railroad down through Palmyra, Lake Shore and Benjamin. This was only used in the fall of the year for hauling beets as these communities raised many sugar beets. The sugar company built the railroad and I used to work for them in the summer time on different jobs hauling lumber, grading up places for beet dumps and so on. When I was 17 years of age I worked one winter for the Utah Copper Co. at Magna. That was when World War I was on so I decided to quit that job and join the Navy. So, I did--passed the exam and though I was on my way, but the armistice was signed and I didn't go.
So, I rented a small farm and planted sugar beets (about 15 Acres) and then went to work on construction, building an irrigation canal from the mouth of Spanish Fork Canyon along the mountain over to Mapleton. I camped in a tent close to where I was working. I did a fair job at that so when I was just a kid (about 18) I bought a farm in Palmyra consisting of about 70 acres of cultivated ground and 100 meadow and pasture and a small herd of cattle. That stopped all my goofing around. I was irrigation' and going to see Min. I was a busy cuss at that time. We raised sugar beets mainly, and wheat and oats. No canning crops. We fought mint weed and weevil in the alfalfa crop. We didn't have spays and stuff. We just had to lick them other ways. We would cultivate the ground and work to set the weeds back to get the crops up ahead of them. We used to fight the weevil in the hay crop. We'd get along pretty good with the first crop, but the second crop would come up with the leaves looking like a sieve. We would hook up what we called a spring toothed harrow and go right through the hay trying to loosen up the ground, then turn the water on it. Then we would cut water willows and make a big drag about 15 feet long. We would bolt the willows between 2x4's and drag that along the ground and smash those worms into the mud. Then we had another idea. We'd use the same drag, but we would loosen the ground and then pull the drag over it dry and it would make the dust so thick it would kill the worms. Dad sold his farm and moved to town--but then he had to take it back during the depression time so I bought it from him.
The first time I saw Min was when I had some ground northwest close to Rast Otteson's place. She and Jen were out there trotting around and bringing in the cows for him. I didn't know who they were then but found out later that it was Min and Jen. I didn't know much more about her until one time the Salem Mutual was putting on a stage show and a bunch of us went to Lake Shore to see the show and I sat in a seat right behind her. She was probably about 16 then. Then a little later on we started going to dances. One time Min came to the dance with her dad. He played in the band. The fellow she was supposed to come with was waiting to take her home. (She hadn't waited for him to pick her up and he was kind of mad.) I happened to hear about it. She was up on the stage waiting for her dad. I just took her by the arm and said, "Come on, lets go home". So, that's the way it went. Then I did meet her again up here at a dance hall. She was here with somebody and I went in and danced with her, and I said, "Why don't we go up town and have some ice cream." She didn't hang back so I took her and went to have a dish of ice cream. Vern, (her date) got mad and went and got drunk and he got sick. I hunted him up and said, (Are you taking her home or not". He said he guessed he was and I told him "OK", but don't leave her here, I'll take her home". She went home with him and another couple they were with. I just took her out for a treat.
Once when I was out with Min we were going to a dance. Lenore Francis and Foss Badsguaard were with us. We got along the Lake Shore road when a guy who had a horse from the livery stable that he thought was pretty fast kept coming up by us. Pretty soon he said, "What's the matter? Can't that nag go". So, we went. The road was real cut up just then and had real deep cracks. The horse got a foot caught in one of those cracks and down she went. We were going as hard as we could go. It threw the front wheel and the axle went through the wheel and stuck in the frozen ground. The buggy tipped right over on top of the horse (rear end over). There were four of us in the buggy and we had side curtains and all of that. The bow on the front broke when it came over and hit the horse, so we were all cooped up in there in a heap on the horse. I got hold of the horses back leg and kind of talked to it. Foss kicked out a side curtain and got out and he got Lenore out. Min just sat there. I said, "Its your turn. Can you get out? No answer, so I said to Foss, "Min must be hurt. Can you reach in there and get her out"? Old Foss' big hand came in and all he could find was her ankle, so he got hold and started to pull, and boy, did she ever come to life. Came rarin' right out of there head first. Foss talked to the horse while I got out, and then I talked to her because she knew me better. Foss pulled the buggy off and the horse just laid there quite. We pushed the buggy off the side of the road. The wheel was gone--no spokes or anything. Foss lived about a mile away and they had an old buggy there. No top or anything, so he took the horse to get the buggy. I took the ladies and went on down the road til he caught us and then we went on to the dance and finished our evening. That horse was mother's horse. She was a pretty little animal. I called her Sally. I think they called her Old Fly. We didn't have Old Cap that night. Old Cap wouldn't fall down. Sally didn't have what it takes to be a young man's horse. We had another horse called Noodle, but I had my eye on Old Cap for quite a while. Then I got to dickering with a guy and bought him. Cap was a well bred horse. He was a straight trotting horse. He was exceptionally good until we got to riding him and that threw him off balance. He was a dandy buggy horse. He and that rubber tired buggy was what I think kind of kept Minnie interested.
When I would go to Min's, I would park Old Cap by the apple tree. So, one night some guys came along and thought they would have a race. So, of we went keeping just about neck and neck all the way. We were going on a dead run when we got to Min's house. Old Cap just turned right in front of the other guys and stopped dead still at his usual parking place. End of race.
He never seemed to get tired. After a long ride we would stop and he would just take one deep breath and he would be ready to go again. There was one thing about him. If you ever had to get off in a hurry to get through brush or something you had better have those reigns hooked to something, cause if he was ever left loose he would go down that mountain in a hurry. You would just be left right there.
We used to go hunt cattle up here above Castilla. We'd come out of there at night. I'd lope along with the other guys until we got to Castilla, and then I usually had a date, so I,d just put Cap into his trot and could go from there to Palmyra and shave and have a bath and be on my way to Lake Shore before the other guys would come along. He was a roan. Dark face and head. He was a real good looking horse.
Min stayed with school, went to the Y for a year and received a teachers certificate and was given a school in Lake Shore, but I decided that I needed her more than that school, and we were married in the Salt Lake Temple on 23 March, 1921. We moved to the "Blue Adobe" in Palmyra down by the river. It was a two room house and had a door in the end of the attic. It was made of adobes but it was stuccoed. That was better than some. We bought that with quite a bit of ground down by the West Mountain, but the ground wasn't much good. Mostly meadow land with grass and water.
Min finished out that year teaching, but at that time they didn't allow married women to teach.
When we lived in that first house we had the old Model T. Min used to drive up to Primary and stay for Mutual. When the road was frozen and hardened up a little you could travel on it, but sometimes I would hook her up to the wagon and take her as far as Leo Bank's where there was a little gravel. Then I would watch for her to come home. You ought to have seen that. Those old head lights flopping back and forth, first one way then the other. I'd see her slide down into the borrow pit to the side of the road, then she'd go backward a ways, and then forward. I don't believe I ever had to pull her out. It didn't have a gear shift, just two pedals on the floor. The car had little bits of tires and it set up high so the axles didn't get in the mud much, and there was no one else on the road.
Min used to get a little homesick at times and the tears would start rolling. I would say, "You'd better get in the old jitney and go home and see your mom for awhile." She would be gone for about an hour and come back home happy as a lark.
When we lived on that first farm we had a little Jersey cow that was just a pet. We let her run wherever she wanted to. We had a little garden about ten yards away from the house by the irrigation ditch. Min went out to the garden to get some vegetables and the cow came over to visit. Min started for the house kind of nervous and the cow started to come along behind her. Min started to run so the cow started to run. It was right behind her with its head down and jumping from one side and then the other and kind of blatting with each jump. Boy, did they go--just a hot footing it right up to the front porch. Gosh, that looked funny.
We used to go down to the lake and shoot carp, or shoot the cloths pins off the clothes line.
One day we walked around the corner of the house and for some reason I had a hammer in my hand. There, from no where, was a snake. I just let out a yip and let fly with that hammer and cut the snake into with the hammer. I didn't even stoop over to hit it. I just let it fly.
The Gypsies were traveling around a lot at that time. One summer they came and stayed with a guy we called the Swede. They were around for the summer. Min sure didn't want anything to do with them.
In the fall I went to work at the sugar factory during the campaign. Then I rented the farm out and went to Magna to work for $2.85 a day. We were there about four years. I served an apprenticeship on the pipe crew. Our oldest daughter, Lois, was born there on 14 February, 1923. That winter she had a real bad sick spell and the next year another. She had been sick for so long and looked so tough. Min finally came back here and stayed two weeks with Lois. After two weeks she didn't look like the same child. She weighed 13 pounds when she was 1 1/2 years old. When I came she was playing with some other kids and I didn't recognize her. We then realized that she couldn't live with the smelly smoke and smog in Magna. We had some real good friends there who lost their baby. So, we left there and came back to the farm.
At one time we had a lot of rabbits. They were Lois' crop. We could get a nice half grown rabbit and they were really delicious. One day Min said, "Go get me a rabbit". I said, "Aw no, I don't want to shoot a rabbit". She said, "Well, if you don't I will". So, she came out with the old long barreled shot gun and a shell and said, "How do you do this". So I showed her. The rabbits were out there a ways feeding. First thing you know she brought that gun up in the air and "bang". That old gun just flew up in the air and turned clear over and hit the ground in front of her. She stood there a minute and then came back and said, "Well, there it is. Now go get it and clean it". I did, but about all that was left of it was the hind quarters.
We went out of the cattle business because there was no sale for them during the depression years, so you just got rid of them. Cattle got so cheap that if you would take the cow up to the depot, the government would give you $20 a head and shoot them. If you did take an animal there you could build a skid or slick and take it home to use the meat.
After about three years on that place mother and dad moved to town for the second time. They had sold their home once, but the people couldn't make the payments so they had to take it back. We bought the house then and moved into it. It was a two story brick home built at the same location as my childhood home.
At one time I was the superintendent of the Sunday School. Ted Banks and Wilford Otteson were the councilors. We used to have fun down there. The old church would get so many wasps in it and that would furnish pretty good entertainment watching the old wasps buzz around somebody when we were kids. When we went in Sunday School we tried exceptionally good to keep everybody quiet, so, I would leave one of the assistants down in the audience and if somebody was talking or making a fuss--he would go sit by them. One day it was Wilford's turn to sit in the audience and a couple of old ladies were just yaking away, so Wilford would look at them, and finally he started over there. You should have seen them look so silly when he went over and sat down by them. But it sure did make it quite. Wilford got the tic fever. When he passed away we got the word during Sunday School.
The old church was just one big room with a little stage in one end. Later they put in a little bigger stage and a basement under it to keep fuel and stuff in. We had only one stove and that was a big stove, right in the middle of the one room. For partitions for classes we had wires strung both ways and we would pull curtains and make individual rooms. The benches were homemade and weren't fastened to the floor. One of these benches sat for years over here on dad's front porch. They could put those benches all around the room and stack the extras in a corner, and then there was room to dance all around the stove.
As near as I can remember I was installed as 2nd Councilor in the Palmyra Bishopric in the fall of 1932. Ed R. Huntington was Bishop and Leo Banks was 1st Councilor. During the time I was there the school house was purchased and was remodeled to serve as a church. The cost of the building and the remodeling was $6,351.10. All of the work was done by voluntary contributions of the members. The newly remodeled building had a chapel with a seating capacity of more than 200, six class rooms, a relief Society Room and a Bishops office. President Heber J. Grant dedicated the new Palmyra Church on Sunday, 15 April, 1934. Min and Kate Thomas sand a duet at the dedication--There is a Land.
Oliver Hansen, whom I always had admired very much took charge of that work. The ground around the church was quite low and some of us turned out with teams and wagons and others with shovels. No tractor with loaders and no dump trucks. The dirt was loaded by hand and dump plank wagon boxes were used to fill the dirt in, and in one day we built it up quite a bit. The soil was hauled from the south end of the field at the end of the road to the north.
The Ward reunions in those days were held fairly close to home as traveling was with horses hitched to wagons or buggies. I can remember when Melard Beck and Pearl Monk went somewhere, to Payson I think, and bought a load of ice. They brought it to the west of Art Banks place in a grove of big Box Elder trees when the reunion was being held. Every family had an ice cream freezer. The old wooden bucket with a handle on the side and the kids had the privilege of getting to turn it. Later we went to the Saratoga Resort. We had some trouble about Ward Day as the threshing was on. William Nelson sure hated to stop that old machine of his as he had so many jobs to get to and another thing was, when the machine was running it took a crew of men to run it, as we either had to feed the thresher form a stack or use teams on wagons to haul the grain to the machine, taking a crew of ten to twelve men.
On 20 June, 1930 our second daughter was born, Doris Deane. On 28 February, 1932 another daughter, Renea, was born. The saddest experience of our lives was when Renea died of scarlet fever on 3 January, 1935.
At one time I worked up the canyon. I would work for a week then come home for a night--soak my feet in hot water because I'd get the chill blains so bad it would just drive you crazy. I was working for the forest service and running the farm at the same time. I even got up to $6.00 a day for me and my team up there. We took a tent along but sometimes we didn't use it. Frost cycles (icicles) would hang a couple of inches down on the inside of the tent. When we moved the tent we would have to dig a hole in the snow to put the tent up. Min came up to stay one night and when I woke up the next morning, I looked over at Minnie and she had a ring of frost around each nostril. Heck, she looked so cute. But that was the last time she would go with me.
We got a job up there after a forest fire that killed a whole section of nice pine trees, and the forest service was building a lot of fences between forest service ground and private property and we were using the dead posts. This was during the time that they had a lot of fellows working for the WPA--a government program set up in an effort to relieve the depression. But those fellows didn't have any equipment to move the materials. Min's brother, Arch, had been working up there and then they came to see if I would go and take my horses, but we worked for the Forest Service rather than the government. They had some men out taking the trees down and others building the fence. We had to move the trees from the forest over to the fence. The WPA fellows stayed in tents, too. We had a regular little village. Some of them would sit up and sing or whatever to stay awake and keep the fires going until 10:00 or so in the evening. We all did our own cooking. We had a little square stove in the corner of the tent. It was just set on the ground with no grates or anything. A little door opened in one end and the chimney went out the other end with the stove pipe going out a pipe hole.
We set a tent on fire once when I was a kid working on the high line canal above Mapleton. We went in the tent and cooked dinner and I looked up and could see the sky. A hole in the ceiling of the tent was just smoldering away and getting bigger and bigger. I didn't know the fiddlin' tent was on fire but a spark had come out the chimney and set it going. Then we had to put out the fire and get the tent patched.
One time I was going to go to the canyon to get a load of poles and Ole Melvin Snow came by. He said, "If I'd Known you were going I'd go with you". I said, "Well, I'm goin', and you know it", but he didn't even have his horses shod. He must have stayed up half the night to get ready to go, because early in the morning I heard this voice outside hollerin', "Come on, lets go to the canyon". I was just eating breakfast so I said, "Come in and have a little breakfast. When he came in he looked like he was just wearing a bunch of rags. Min said, "Gosh Melv, is that all you've got to keep warm". He answered, "Well, I've got all I own and al I could boree, so, I aught to be all right".
We used to get these poles (Quaken Asp). They had to be twenty feet long and we would sell them for 50 cents a piece. Other times I would go up and get enough poles to make a derrick frame and a 50 foot arm pole. We'd go up and haul them down and sell the whole bunch for $35.00. I would put on an extra big hay pole and that could sell for an extra $10.00, so I could get $45.00 for a load like that.
Once while I was in the canyon, Lois and Min had an experience that scared them half to death. In the night it sounded like someone was running up the walk and pounding on the door. It turned out to be a pet lamb. We had a cement walk that went to the street to the front door. This lamb would go out to the street, run down the walk, jump on the porch and bump the front door. Then it would go back to the street and do it again. We couldn't figure out for a day or two what was going on--and then it did it in the day time and I saw it. It was kind of spooky in the night.
Following World War I, there was a lot of unemployment. Young men were out on the road trying to find something to do. They liked to go to farming areas because they could find a bed and a meal. One day we answered a knock at the door and there was a poor little teenager asking for something to eat. At that time Lois was just old enough to say little rhymes and sing little songs. We told him to sit down and make himself comfortable while we got him something to eat. Lois entertained him by singing:
Show me the way to go home.
I'm tired and I want to go to bed.
Had a drink about an hour ago
And it went right to my head.
No matter where I roam
O'er land or sea or foam,
You can always hear me singin' this song
Show me the way to go home.
Lois remembered too, when a hobo came to Grandma's house. While grandma got him something to eat, Lois and her cousin, Tom got a tub and made him wash his hands and feet. "We really fixed him up", she said.
While we were living in Palmyra I hauled poles from the canyon, took them to the saw mill to be made into boards and took them home and built a big barn. It still looks pretty good.
In NOvember, 1938 we moved to Nephi where I accepted a job with Smith Auto Company selling Ford cars and used cars. I used a lot next to Fub Hepler's Service Station to show the cars and later rented a space in another building where I could display a new car. I had a little office, too, but mainly worked out of my car. This job had me bothered for awhile because I had never tried any thing like that before.
On 3 June, 1939 (my 40th birthday) our forth child and only son was born. We named him Jay Grant. He rather surprized us by being a handsome little "red head".
After the second World War started, cars were not being manufactured which made car selling rather difficult. So, we moved back to Spanish Fork. I ran a sevice station for a while and then after the war we went back to Nephi in 1945 where I went in with Smith on a Ford dealership. We returned agin to Spanish Fork in 1949 where I was the sale manager for the Spanish Fork Smith Auto Company. Later I opened a used car dealership called, "Main Street Auto". When Mitchell & Swenson offered me a job as a Real Estate Salesman I went to work for them. In about 1964 I had a heart attack and that kind of put a stop to that career, although I did a little selling after that.
Over the years we did alot of camping. It was always fun to go to the canyon. Doris' family liked to camp also. About our first trip together we had a little "tear drop" trailer and they were in a tent. We went to Flaming Gorge. Later Doris and Fred's neighborhood got to going and we joined in. Out trailer was were the kids always came to play games and have a little fun. I always made it a point, no matter what the weather to find wood to make a fire. Some of the favorite camping places were Marsh Lake in the Uinta's. The Snake River near Jackson, Wyoming, Ogden Canyon, Malad Pass, Beaver Mountain, Sunrise Camp Ground near Bear Lake,Sand Dunes near Delta, Diamond Park, Provo Canyon, Birdseye where the peacocks hung out and other miscellaneous places.
Lois lived in Tennessee for a number of years. When we visited there we always had a good time seeing the historical parts of that part of the country and enjoyed all of their lakes and greenery. Once, when we went to see the Grand Old Opry, this gal on the show called me up on stage to help her in an act. That was an experience. Jay lived in Denver and California and now he lives in Dallas, Texas. We have had some good visits with them, too, and checked out his Shakey's Pizza where ever we have been with him.
We are still living in Spanish Fork (1985). Lois is living in Salt Lake City. She has three children and five grandchildren. Doris is living in Brigham City and has seven children and 13 grandchildren. Jay is living in Dallas, Texas and has two children.