Sunday, September 20, 2015

DESERET NEWS “CHRISTMAS I REMEMBER BEST”

DESERET NEWS “CHRISTMAS I REMEMBER BEST”
BOY SHARES JOY OF GIVING WITH TEACHER
20 DECEMBER, 1990 by DIANE HALVERSON CAHOON
Christmas was nearly four months away when I met my new fourth-grade class for the 1980 school year.  I was delighted to with the prospect of sharing the coming year with this exceptional group of 31 eager and enthusiastic students.   I did not know, however that one of these students would help to give me the Christmas I remember best.
 Amid the sea of scrubbed faces, shiny shoes and fashionable school outfits, one boy stood out in stark contrast to the rest.  Bret was a colorful sight in his bright orange plaid shirt and dingy green plaid slacks.   His shoes were scuffed and worn and at least two sizes to large.  The laces were frayed, held together by several large knots, strategical placed to make the ends long enough to hold the oversized shoes in place. 
Though Bret’s fashion ensemble seem bizarre, his facial expression was anything but comic.  His dark serious eyes peered beneath long brush-like lashes.  His gaze was slightly melancholy yet there was a warmth in those eyes, an undeniable spark of hope.  He returned my smile, and I knew instantly I had found a friend.
As the weeks passed, I learned that one of the unique things about Bret was his lifestyle.  He and his family lived, basically a pioneer existence in isolation from neighbors and friends.  They made their home in a remote canyon where they had established a homestead.  Their home consisted of mobile homes, tents and shacks.  They managed to to do without most the modern conveniences.  
DIANE WITH  MASTER'S DEGREE
Water was obtained by a well.  It was heated on a wood burning stove.  There was no electricity or telephone service.  Money was a scarce commodity. 
Bret seemed to be an island in so many ways; I feared he would be an outcast.  I was surprised to learn that he was warmly accepted by the other boys and girls.  Bret had a humble quality about him which seemed to endure him to others.  Although he lacked the material possessions the other children enjoyed, he never seemed to feel sorry for himself, and never complained.  Still, he spent much of his time alone and would often sit and gaze wistfully at the other children as they worked and played together.
Christmas time approached with the usual high level of excitement.  The children’s wish lists grew daily as they shared their holiday dreams.  Bret remained quiet, but the enthusiasm of others was contagious.  Sometimes the flicker of hope in his mysterious eyes would grow into a cozy flame, warming my heart.  I would wonder what kind of a Christmas Bret would have.  Would there be presents for him?  And how would he feel if those presents didn’t come? 
The pure and innocent hearts of children are always willing to share.  The miniature Christmas tree on my desk was soon hidden by the generous gifts of thoughtful students.  Finally, on the last day of school before the holiday break, it was time to open the gifts!
One by one, I opened gifts gave hugs and expressed my thanks.  I was moved by this outpouring of affection from those students I loved.  The gifts were as unique as their givers and it was an enjoyable time for all of us. 
“Open mine next, Teacher!” was the expression repeated by student after student that day. We enjoyed the festive atmosphere which pervaded the schoolroom.  Conspicuously silent, however was Bret.  I began to wonder if perhaps, he did not bring a gift and was feeling left out.  I wanted to tell him it didn’t matter.  He caught my gaze and his smile reassured me.  I winked at him and continued. 
The last package under the tiny tree was a small square box with a slightly soiled paper.  A neatly printed gift tag attached to the box announced proudly: “Merry Christmas, From Bret.”
A gift from Santa himself could not have been more exciting to me at that moment.  As I opened the little box, nestled in crumpled tissue paper, was a lovely Rhinestone ring.  The pale green stone sparkled brightly as I slipped in on my finger for all to see.   Bret grinned shyly as he came forward to accept my gratitude.
Grandma with grandbabies

As the children left the school that day, nearly flying on wings of anticipation.  I couldn’t help but wonder what the holiday held for Bret.  I thought about buying some small gifts and leaving them anonymously, but I had no idea how to find the homestead.  All I could do was hope and pray that he would have a happy Christmas. 
I came engaged that Christmas Day and was soon preoccupied with my own good news and plans for my forth coming marriage.  It wasn’t until I returned to after the holiday break that I turned my attention back to the children. 
The day after we returned to school, the children were permitted to bring one of their Christmas gifts to share with the other students.  I walked around the room admiring the children’s treasures.  As I approached Bret, I noticed the oversized bag beneath his desk and asked him to show me his gift. 
A look of pride filled his eyes as he removed from the bag a well-worn Parcheesi game.  “I got two shirts, too” he said, ‘and some oranges and two candy canes.  I had such a nice Christmas.”
HOME FROM  SOUTHERN UTAH STATE COLLEGE
As I looked into his shining eye, I finally learned something that Bret discovered long ago.  The joy of Christmas is not what one receives, but how one receive it.  Bret knew his gifts were not expensive, or even new, but they were given with humility and love, pure and sweet, and that made all the difference. 
Each time I open my little jewel box and see the sparking rhinestone ring, I think of Bret.  He will always be a part of me and a reminder of the Christmas I remember best.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Diane Cahoon, 33, lives in West Jordan and attended Bingham High School.  She graduated I 1979 from Southern Utah State College in Cedar City with a B.A. in elementary education, after which she taught fourth grade in the Jordan School District for 2 ½ years until the birth of her first child. 
She is a homemaker and a freelance artist.  She writes and illustrates stories for a Clinton shop
Cahoon began writing about two years ago. 
“I enjoy the challenge of trying to express myself and feelings.  I especially enjoy writing for and about children because they have so much to teach us,” she says.

The Desert News “Christmas I Remember Best” contest is the first she has entered and todays article her first story ever selected for publication. 

Saturday, September 19, 2015

HORSE AND WAGON TO UCON 1904

Harvey Halverson
By Harvey
Harvey
The first thing I remember was my Dad and Uncle Thomas making adobes for the Church house in Mapleton.  Then a visit to my grandfather’s house in the Spanish Fork area.
I was about four-years old when we moved to Idaho.  We could look out the train windows and see the Bear River far below while going through the Bear River George near Logan.  I don’t remember arriving in Idaho.  My mother took myself, sister, Eliza, and Brother Joe on the train.  Dad took my brothers, Jim, Chris, and Raymond and sisters, Myrtle in the wagon with what belongings they had room for.  I don’t remember them leaving or arriving.  They were about two or three weeks on the road. 

We lived in Ucon in a two- room log house for some months.  We moved quite a few places including, Rudy, LaBelle and Sugar City, and then back to LaBelle before coming back to Lake Shore for two or three years. 
I started school in in Rudy in a two-room school house, four grades in each room.  Our teacher, Mr. Steele, sat in the hall near the door so he could see in both rooms. 
We later moved to Sugar City where Dad worked at the sugar factory.  I did not go to school there as it was too far to walk.   I don’t remember if the older ones went to school or not.  Later we moved to LaBelle where I went to school two years.  We then came back to Utah and lived in Lake Shore where we went to school; we had to walk nearly two miles.  When the road wasn’t too muddy and a horse would pull the buggy, we rode to school.  Otherwise we had to walk.  In 1912 we moved to Mapleton where I went through the eighth grade.  
1912  Mapleton--Ray, Grandma with Mary, Andrew
Eliza, Joe, Harvey
Andrew’s sister, Aunt Mariah had married Nels Jensen and were doing quite well farming in Ucon, Idaho and promised to help them if they came up there.  But Andrew never liked what he saw and kept moving and planting.  Finally he found the farm he searched for and was about to harvest a good crop of sugar beets when an early winter froze them in the ground.  Discouraged he decided to go back to Mapleton, Utah.

Dad was a farmer all his life except for short periods so farming was all we did until we grew up and moved away.  None of us boys followed farming.  I chose mining, working in the Mammoth and Silver City mines for two years, then to Bingham where I worked for the U.S. Mining Company for 43 years, 15 of them underground. 

I met Beth in Bingham.  We were married in 1927.  We first lived at Telegraph in a company apartment.  It was called Telegraph because the apartments were built near the old Telegraph Mine.  We lived there about four years and Lee and Gene were born there.  Lee was troubled with pneumonia so we moved to Lower Bingham (Frog Town) in the Panos Apartments out of the high altitude.  Paul was born in in Lower Bingham.  I had a lot of illnesses from 1936 to 1937, pneumonia and silicosis, so I was off work most of the time.  I was transferred out of the mine then worked in the compressor room.
Jensen and Ray Halverson--Mary Hanna H with Grandma Halverson
house was given too her in 1912 by Peter Boel after Idaho

We moved back to Telegraph when I was transferred outside in 1937.  

Vivian was born in Telegraph.  The U.S. shops were transferred to Lark in 1953; I ran compressors there until I retired in 1968. 
Bingham was gradually deteriorating so we moved to West Jordan in 1948 where we had since lived.
I remember my grandparents very well.  They were divorced and grandmother lived with us until she died in the early 1920’s.  She had a room by herself where she cooked and cared for herself. 

Dad (Andrew) was a farmer most of his life.  He was stern and strict, but fair.  When we were told to do something, there was no argument.  My mother was always gentle and very understanding.  She died in March 1956.

I was always fond of hunting and fishing.  I always took my boys with me when they were old enough to go—5 or 6 years old.
Gene is a mechanic for Kennecott.  Lee runs electric shovels for Kennecott.  Paul lives in Missouri where he teaches aeronautics at Maple Woods Community College.   Vivian is a school teacher, having a Ph.D. in Child Development.  She is living in Honolulu.  I spent two winters in Florida with her and have spent three winters in Hawaii.  
In February 1977 I went to New Zealand to visit some of my relatives who I had never seen but corresponded with for 50 years.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

AUNT HANNA--ANE JOHANNE JENSEN

AUNT HANNA
Eugene Halverson
Peter Boel      Aunt Hanna
There is some good in the worst of us and a little bad in the best of us.  I do look for these in my stories I write.  I had a lot of nasty things to say about Aunt Hanna, and it did feel as if she was watching my every move.  Was she there??  My computer crashed.  So, I bought another one and it crashed. I did hang a picture of her mother-in-law Aunt Hanner over my computer before she left me alone.  Aunt Hanna was a polygamist wife of Peter Boel who was my Great Grandfather, whose sur name was Christensen but preferred Boel, Anni Dankjaer said, “Boel is simply the name of a middle size farm. Sometimes it was also spelled Bol”.  His mother, Ane Marie Poulsdatter 78 years old.  Said it was time to go to America to find her daughter, Christiana who lived in Utah.  Those that were able left Denmark on the Nevada in the summer of 1878 and arrived in Pleasant Grove hat fall.  Christian Peter Christensen, age 35, Ane Johanne Jensen 26 a maid and Andreas Anderson a servant, and five children Kirstine 13, Christen 10, Soren Peter 9, Jens 7, Elsine 6.
Niels and Pierre where to young and sickly to go so Little Grandma, Mary, my grandmother had to stay in Denmark a couple of years longer.  Even so Niels died a week or so after arriving.    
Little Grandma   Peter Boel
It seems the Bishop noticed this very attractive single young lady in the house. He told Peter they had to marry and I’m sure this suited them just fine.  Back then during polygamy days a man could have as many wives as he could take care of.  Aunt Hanna had lost one child and was pregnant with another when Little Grandma showed up on the door-step.  She was completely unaware that her husband had married her maid, Hanna.  Little Grandma could plainly see that Hanna was about to have a baby.   Hanna said, "You are the second wife now, you gave up your place in Denmark."  Little Grandma hurt and disgusted told her, "You can have him and good riddance." 
A picture in the Springville Book Little Grandma is listed as the second wife.
Well Aunt Hanna did have her man but still everything began to fall apart.  She lived with a family that did not like her.  Her first baby died at birth.  Then she had a little girl named Ane Melvina.  (I have a large picture of her in my house).  She a pretty little thing with blond hair and frilly white dress.  She looks at me with such a sad expression.  A story is told of a group of children who started to talk about what they were going to be when they grew up.  After each child told what they were going to be they asked Ane Melvina, what she was going to be? She stated, “I am going to die tomorrow." and that’s what she did.
Ane Melvina Boel
Life was hard and she was resented, she was never called mother or grandmother just "Aunt Hanner".  Time never seemed to heal the hurt.  Resentment and hatred ran deep.  Aunt Hanna was despised by all of Christian and Maren's children and their spouses.  Aunt Hanna never backed down from a fight and held her own.  Hanna is English, in Danish the J has no sound and “r” is the rolling of r’s.
Aunt Hanna was a very good cook and housekeeper and managed to "rule the roost" as well as cater to Christian's every whim.  Christian and Hanna did get along quite well and they did love each other.  Hanna spoke English very well, something that Grandpa and Little Grandma never could accomplish.  They did learn the language but had a strong accent and some words were very hard for them to pronounce.  Aunt Mary said, “What a rascal he was, between the English and the Danish mixed, he was a scream."  Aunt Mary also said, “Grandpa Boel would shear sheep in the spring.  He said Hanner could shear as many sheep as he could." 
Aunt Hanna resented the way she was shunned and humiliated.  They were also afraid of her they had seen some of the spells that Aunt Hanna cast.   In America Andrea’s was no longer a servant.  He had to be paid wages so he bought a fancy brass bed with a real mattress.  Well, he bragged once too often about how wonderful it was.  Hanna took her book out and cast a spell on it, he could never sleep on it again.  If he tried he always fell out of it, so he slept on the floor next to it.  Even the neighbors were afraid of her.  A spell on the neighbor’s cow made it go dry and it never gave milk again. 
My Aunt Mary Halverson Bowen didn't like her at all.  Aunt Hanna died in 1915.  Shortly after that, the “four Mary’s searched the house to find and burn her witchcraft book, "Cyprianus", her Devils book.  Mary said, "In those days many believed in the supernatural and we were all afraid of her. 
back   Peter Boel
Aunt Hanna     Little Grandma at Church
When Raymond died a few years later he said, "Don't bury me in the Ever Green Cemetery with Aunt Hanna or I will come back and haunt you", he was buried as he wished in Spanish Fork.   Aunt Mary said, "Mother regretted this because she could walk down to Ever Green but not to Spanish Fork.  She also said, "Pa made sure that all Halverson's were buried in Spanish Fork". 
My Father, Harvey said, "I liked Aunt Hannea and got along with her".   Peter Boel bought a fancy horseless carriage and my dad was their chauffeur.  He took them where ever they went.  Christian's sister, Christiana Twede, her children and grandchildren said she was a nice person, active in church and community affairs.  Aunt Doris Halverson said, "One day I was talking to Irene Freeman, she said that when she was just a little girl, she loved to visit Aunt Hanna.  Hanna was just the sweetest little old lady". 
Aunt Mary said, “Grandpa was a rascal, mean and stingy."   While living in Denmark he learned to live with poverty.  His miserly ways made him rich while many of his neighbors were poor.
But my father said, "He worked and played hard, I couldn't keep up with him during the prime-time of my life and he was old".  He was always making and selling things.  He repaired clocks, I have the vice he held the little gears and teeth.  There were clocks hanging on every wall. 
One dark cold night my Grandmother Halverson woke up by a knock on the door. It was Grandpa Boel he may have been two sheets to the wind.  On 800 west he was close to his friends and booze.  He had a grand old time but when he got home Hanna took one look at him and locked the door.  By the time he walked 10 big city blocks in the black night he had sobered up and he was angry.  Oh Why!  Oh Why! Did I ever marry that woman when I had a better one right here?  

Grandpa Boil’s first home was at 980 W 1600 S in Mapleton on 20 acres of ground.  Over the years it became better and more productive.  Grandpa Boel was getting in his 60’s and was semi-retired.  Pierre ran the farm and was doing the blacksmithing.  Grandpa had had more free-time to visit and play and life was good.  Pierre had worked for his father for 34 years without pay and was promised the house and farm for this service.  Pierre had been sick a lot and had lost all his toes on one foot, caused by tuberculosis.  
One day Pierre fell in love with a pretty little girl from Georgia who came to Utah to marry a nice Mormon boy.  But when Pierre brought Molly McClain home to live things fell apart.  The Irish in Molly would not allow her to be bossed by an “Old Country Dane”.  She just packed up and went back to the family who brought her to Utah. 
To get Molly back Pierre had to get ownership of the farm and eventually he did.  Well Grandpa Boel drug his feet in transferring ownership.  He hadn’t been working and had to sell a few acres of the farm to build him a new house. 
Pierre did sell the prized farm and moved to Sutherland.  Grandpa knew that Pierre could never clear the farm of weeds, dig all the ditches and wells, build fences, a house, a barn and a hundred other things.

Houses
1st 20 acre farm given to Pierre.

house for grandma
2nd Grandpa bought a house and three acres of ground just south of his and gave it to his son, Jens.  He had given this house to help his son, Jens (James) who had lost his leg soon after his marriage
3rd Then there was the Arron Johnson home that he bought and deeded to his Daughter Mary Halverson in 1911 to care for his first wife, Little Grandma. 
He built this new house next to his son, Jens and Mary Halvorsen Peterson on the 300 block on 8th west in Mapleton. 


Friday, March 27, 2015

"Alley Oop"---"Upano"

"Alley Oop"
Nick Vidalakis Invents the basketball play
By Wayne "Admiral" Ray
Add caption
Nick Vidalakis is a tall guy.  At least he was the last time I saw him.  Gravity takes its toll as we age. I have shrunk 2 3/4 inches from my "fighting height".  Maybe he has also.  Nick was taller than most of us in junior and senior high school.  I believe only Reed Schultz was taller in our class.  None of Nick's height and weight was fat because he was a hard worker and besides he walked daily from Lead Mine to school and back from grade school to 12th grade.
There is a famous story concerning Nick and Joel P. Jensen when we were in the 8th or 9th grade that amazed us all because of the way Mr. Jensen handled Nick's size.  A nickname was involved in provocation.  If you remember your teachers at BHS you know the nickname, (Punjab).  The action took place from the classroom to the hallway.  It was Unbelievable!
Joel Jensen
The previous paragraphs are to establish that Nick was tall.  He was a varsity basketball player our senior year.  He wasn't a starter but I think he did get to play quite a bit.  If I remember right he was 6th or 7th on the starting rotation.  In contrast I was 10th on the rotation.  We only had 10 players.  The starters were Captain Kent Stillman, Chris Apostal, Bill Thomas, Ken Hall and Jack Knudson.  Other teammates were:  Bill Boren, Steve Hauskenecht, and George Dimas.  We made it to the State Class "B" Tournament held in the Deseret Gym in Salt Lake City in 1946.  The last time the Bingham High School basketball team played in the State Tournament is when the dad's of Kent Stillman, Ken Hall and Bill Thomas played.  How about that for a coincidence?  Three starter son's of three starter dads in the two bracketed tournament appearances.  My uncle "Lolly" also played in that era but it didn't help me getting any playing time.  (I got to play the last minute or two sometimes when the game was a cinch for our victory or hopelessly lost)

Nick #11 

It happened in practice.  I can't remember the exact details but Nick instructed us that when he shouted "Upano" whoever had the ball could lob it to him over the heads of the guarding players.  With his height advantage he could grab the ball and score.  (I always thought that "upano" meant up in Greek but my English-Greek Dictionary didn't recognize the word.)  Coach "Sunny" Alsop liked the idea and encouraged the play whenever Nick was in the game. Wasn't any name to the play, but in future years with many teams they called it the "Alley Oop".  Other teams may have used this play before us but I credit Nick for inventing it as an offensive strategy.  It worked especially in our last game of the season.  
Nick Vitalakis, Wayne Ray
 We beat Duchesne and Park City before we lost to American Fork in the semi-finals.  Our final game for third place was against Spanish Fork.  Coach Alsop sat the starters down and let the reserves play the game.  We won 31-25.  Nick and "Upano" prevailed.  I even scored a few.  UPANO, with Nick.

Friday, November 28, 2014

JIM REKOUTIS as FONZIE

Jim Rekoutis was Bingham's "Fonzie"
By "Admiral" Wayne Ray
Jim Rekoutis was the "coolest cat"
“Happy Days” is an American television sitcom that aired first-run from January 15, 1974, to September 24, 1984, on ABC. Created by Garry Marshall, the series presents an idealized vision of life in the mid-1950s to mid-1960s United States. Wikipedia.  
Jim Rekoutis was the "coolest cat" during our "Happy Days" in the 1940's. Looking back, I likened him to the TV program Happy Days "Fonzie" character.
home was far right and center
above US Hotel
Here is why: Jim grew up in Copperfield. That act of nature was imbedded in his soul for life. Someone gave him the nickname of "Mackuty" which we eventually found "tagged" on the entrance walls of the Copperfield side of the Bingham to Copperfield tunnel, as well as elsewhere. I don't know if he wrote it or not, but I'll bet he got a visit from the Utah Copper "copper". We first met in the 7th grade. I knew then at first glance that this guy was something special. As we became more acquainted he told me about growing up in Copperfield. He did all the Copperfield kid stuff that got most boys in trouble. He sold ore samples to tourists that came to the visitor’s center of the mine, sometimes "putting one over" on them. He was as a Crossing Guard in grade School when he did something out of turn and was "squealed on" by a classmate.  He never forgave him for that even when we were seniors in High School. Anyway, ask him where he is from and he'll tell you Copperfield even though it doesn't exist anymore.  The reason that I think he resembles the Fonzie character was his "presence". By that I mean that wherever he was, he attracted respect. From students, teachers, other adults------everyone. Even "Boss" Hausknecht, who those of us who knew him, respect was hard to come by, treated Jim almost as a peer. 

Copperfield Business District
about to be mined away
Jim was more than often the center of attention. First if all, he had a mustache in Junior High.  His attire was always white '''cords", dirtied to the proper degree, and a leather sleeved jacket. You knew when he was around.  He could have called my mother Mrs. "R" and my dad Mr. "R". He was generous to a fault and was very protective of me. 
I was as naive as "Richie" Cunningham of the Happy Days TV program and needed Jim to help guide me. I felt safe when we were together. I don't remember him ever getting in a fight. We all thought he was "tough" but he never had to prove it. However, he never took any "crap" from anyone all his life.  

Tragedy struck his family twice in his young life when his father and his uncle who married his mother after his father’s death both were killed in accidents on the job at Utah Copper Company. Jim is the oldest of 5 children, three brothers and two sisters. He was in Junior High and a sophomore when those tragedies happened so he had to mature fast. He really became the man of the house. Then and for all of his life he has looked after the welfare of his family. As a result of his maturity he was one of, if not the first, in our high school class to have a car. His mother needed him to drive. 
seven miles of snow
When he started going with Mary Manos, who became his wife, having enough gasoline to take care of family duties and court her was a problem.  Remember in WWII gasoline was rationed and if you had an "A" card, your supply was limited. I was always asking my dad and my Employer at "R" Dairy for stamps for Jim's gas. He did, after all, drive me around some times.

 My wife and I lived in California near Jim and Mary Rekoutis and their family twice. I have remained close to them since High School. We assisted the startup and even worked for one of Jim's companies. For a while after our retirement, we were very active in his business. I found the "Fonzie" attitude still intact as we enjoyed watching him grow and succeed.

And he was still always looking out for my welfare. We are privileged to have as friends two of the most generous and gracious people we have ever known.
4th July Copperfield

Thursday, November 20, 2014

REMEMBERING LARK, UTAH

REMEMBERING LARK
Bob and Donna Bardsley Family
By Susan Bardsley Hopes
Thank you, Susan, this is priceless.  
This is a story of  people and things that are precious and must be saved. 
Lark is a pretty little town
"Lark,is a pretty little Town"
"Lark is a pretty little Town"
Sometimes, our clearest memories are not of significant events in our lives, but of very insignificant moments, one such time for me, was a crisp, spring morning, my father and I were walking the ridge of Easter egg hill. The Sego Lilly's were just beginning to peak out of the small clumps of snow that had not yet melted from the grip of winter. Dad was a great whistler, and each time he heard the trill of a Meadow Lark he answered back with the same smooth singsong whistle. I had tried and tried to form my lips, curl my tongue, and push air out of the space between my teeth, but failed at each attempt. You know what they’re singing don't you? Lark is a pretty little town! Lark is a pretty little town! Like a permanent tattoo this memory has stayed with me all these years. I am now a grandmother, but still when I hear the trill of the Meadow Lark I hear "Lark is a pretty little town. Lark is a pretty little town''.
So how did Lark get its name? In Lillis Sandstorm's history she wrote "There is no record as to how Lark got its name, but two stories told by the old settlers are: Two old prospectors by the names of Dalton and Lark discovered two of the mines, so the town was named after them. The other story, most of the early miners to come here to work were Cornishmen, who had mined in their native land of England.
LARK REUNION

They came first to Michigan, then pushed west to Utah. These people made good miners and soon built up the towns and named them Dalton and Lark, after towns in England. Dalton was built up on the side of the mountain, and Lark built up where it is today. Later, when the Mascotte Tunnel was started, all the people and houses were moved down from Dalton to Lark."

Change is the one thing in life you can always count on in this life!
 Nothing comes easy and nothing stays the same!
Susan Hope
Susan  Bardsley Hope on bottom
Shortly before Christmas 1977, Kennecott Copper Corporation announced it had purchased the town of Lark and the residents would have to leave.  We left with no place to go, said goodbye to friends we may never see again.  One by one we left.  Bob and Donna Bardsley did own their home.  Susan said we moved to Lark when my brother Terry was 7, Marilyn 5, Caren, Jean and I, Susan were born here.
If you go looking for Lark, you might find the location where it once was, but driving past there will be no resemblance of how it once looked. Even much of the topography of the land is altered.
 Lark by Lillis Sandstrom, she describes Lark as a" little mining town nestled snuggle against the side of the Oquirrh range of mountains, Lark is only 25 miles distant from Salt Lake City, and can be reached by paved roads extending on easy grades through a prosperous cultivated valley. It is one of the finest situated mining camps in the county".
Lark was a company owned town.  The United Sates Smelting and Refining Company owned the homes and the ground. There were a few people that owed their homes. For $500 dollars Bob and Donna bought their first home.  Did they pay rent on the Lot?  The house had a lean-to kitchen and an outhouse. When the wallpaper was removed you could see outside.
Many of the first houses in Lark were tent houses. Some of the early homes were built with 2x4 boards forming a square frame to the top and bottom. To complete the house, 1x4 inch boards were nailed lengthwise to these to make the walls, with 1 by 4 inch boards nailed over the cracks and the sloping roof. They were then lined with a heavy paper. Most houses were not divided into rooms but had one large room.
DALTON with LARK 

I think that our home might have started out as one of those early homes. By far one of Dads biggest undertaking was to dig a basement. He dug it out by hand, with a pick and shovel, one wheelbarrow and truck load at a time. Usually after working a full day at KCC. This home was demolished when Lark shut down. Dad had bought ground behind the Drift in that he raised pigs on he had a new house built on the truck haulage road.  I think all the homes on that street owned their property.  This house had a walk out basement but this time it was dug out with a back hoe. It wasn't long before KCC bought them out again, this time they didn't want them back and they bought in Rose Canyon and had their home moved over there. This home will all so be gone soon.

Debbie Peterson said, I don't think she meant literally right behind the Drift Inn but it was on the on the Kennecott Road between Gallegos and Martinez. The only house actually behind the Drift Inn would have been way up the hill by the water tower.
 Debbie Peterson said after they tore the Cafe down, Bob would be there on a daily bases cleaning and gathering the cinder blocks. He called me little red riding hood because I would be walking to my grandma and grandpas house at least y times a day.
LARK DAY

As my husband walked out the door this morning he reminded me not to for get to vote. For my father’s politics and religion were always heated topics in our home. When our son won commissioner on the republican ticket we teased that Grandpa would roll over in his grave. Dad was a die-hard democrat believing that democrats were for the working man.
I had no idea Lark ever had a sheriff.  I was born in 1957 and moved in 1974. As a self-absorbed teenager I never paid attention to the politics of Lark.  Did we have a Mayor or town council?  Did we have polling booths set up at the school when we voted? 
LARK DAYS back in the 1970's
Sally Starnes said, we had no elected officials. The town was owned by the mine and houses were rented to the miners except for a few, but those few were still on property owned by the mine. Thus, no mayor or town council, only appointed positions of Coroner and Sheriff!  We all seemed to get along!
Steven Richardson said, your mom, Donna painted the large painting of Jesus knocking at a door.  It hung high on the wall in the foyer of the LDS chapel.  Another an outdoor scene was given to the Copperton Seminary.

Change the one thing in life you can always count on.

Where we love is home-home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
Oliver Wendell Homes

"Old mill"  tested every boy and girl
Lark Cemetery or the Absents of
Susan Hope
I once wandered with my father through his home town cemetery. Naturally my grandparents and many of our relatives were laid to rest there. As my father would read the names of on the grave markers he would tell me a little history about the people he had known. I learned of two spinster aunts. I learned about the man that bought the first motorized tractor. I learned that Dad lived as a hired hand at the age of twelve with this man and his family. I learned about those went to war and returned in a casket. There is a lot of history in a cemetery.
Cemeteries, single grave markers, and memorials can be found in the loneliest forsaken places. But you know by its marker that at some point in history someone crossed this path, that there had been a community, or a war was fought.
First row- Joyce Gressmen, Donna Reed, Janeen Yeats, Cal Crump, Norman Steel, Zane Dumont, Boyd Crump, Cal Nelson.
Second row- Vera Pierce, Beverly Seal, Jayne Bigler, Norval Draper, ------ Fullmer, Dean Coombs, Richard Sorensen, Keith Webb.
Third row- Teacher Harold Nielson, -----------------, Darlene Hunt, Lois Webb, Veril Carlson, ------------------, Howard Eastman and Blaine Peterson
Where are the remains? Some of Larks inhabitants were born, Married and died in Lark. Lark was established in 1866. Lark died in 1979 at the young age of one hundred and thirteen years. Not one grave marker or memorial. Was Lark and its inhabitants so inconsequential that they didn't even merit a common burial-place?
At one time men brought their families from all over the world to work in one of the largest producing lead and zinc mines in the State of Utah. It was all so one of the best ventilated and safest in the entire country. At its peak population Lark exceeded 800. As impressive as the mine might have been for its time, it’s the people who made it impressive. Those men and their families who lived, worked, worshiped, played, loved, learned, fought, cried, helped one another, and forgave one another that impresses me the most!
For those who loved this little town nestled in the cedars and oak brush it was all ways understood that our stay was always temporary. For some the only plot of dirt they ever paid for was the one they were buried in.  If you died your rent was up.

Epitaph
Bonnie Parker
 1910 to 1934
As the flowers are all made sweeter by the sunshine and the dew, so this old world was made brighter by the lives of 
folks like you.

First row left to right: Howard Eastman, Norman Steel, Cal Crump, Blaine Petersen, Darrell Tea.
Second row Merleen Christensen, ------------------, Don Gressmen, Janeen Yeats, Gloria Franks.
Third row Teacher Miss Garfield, Clynell Richardson, Shirley Reed, Marian Nelson, Merlene Wilcox, Lois Webb, Beverly Gressmen.





IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO GIVE THANKS!  
Susan Hope

Boy Scout Camp in Butterfield
very popular in the"Old Days"
Before I leave for work, I can sort, wash, dry, fold and put away at least a load of laundry.
However my mother remembers a time when laundry was not all that quick and easy. Washing for a family of seven could take most of the day. If you was lucky enough to have a Wringer washer, the laundry would then be hung to dry on the clothes line. How long it took to dry depended on the season and the weather. Practically everything needed to be ironed including those lovely embroidered pillow cases. This in its self was tricky business. The clothing was misted, rolled and placed in a basket. If you didn't get to it soon enough the clothes would sour.
About the time that I started Kindergarten Mother went to work outside the home. Needing a little help she turned to her neighbor Mrs. Romero.
With four daughters, one son my Father and Mother we had a lot of ironing. Mrs. Romero took on the task of ironing our clothing at 10 cents an item. I'm sure she had plenty of her own task to do! Mrs. Romero not only pressed our clothing, but she mended it, sewed on missing buttons and usually returned the pressed clothing with a big stack of homemade flour tortillas.




THANKS Mrs. Romero for taking such good care of our clothing, sharing your food, and being such a good neighbor.
P.S. Thanks for inviting me to play with the little girl that came to visit during the summers. I think her name was Yalonda? I'm sure we ran through your house and eat more of your good food!


Christmas Eves Eve we had our family Christmas Party/ Birthday party down at the church. Twenty people with just my children, and that's not counting our oldest Son and his family who was not there. He lives in Montana. It's amazing how a family that began with six grows. We planted good seeds and reaped a good harvest, OR WATCH OUT THE WEEDS ARE OUT OF CONTROL!

Mother shared one of my favorite stories last night about her life. When Donna (my mother) was in 3rd grade someone had given her mother, a lovely purple silk night gown, her mother made panties out of the night gown for Donna. Donna was at school one day in the middle of a spelling bee. As she sat there waiting for her turn to go to the front of the class room and spell her word she felt the elastic break on her new purple panties. Mrs. Lida Hansen called out Donna's name to come to the front of the class room and spell her word. Donna was mortified! She knew what would happen in front of the whole class. ''No, I don't want to" she told Mrs.  Lida Hansen. Mrs. Lida Hansen marched Donna to the front of the room and forced her to put her hands down to her side. That's when it happened. What terrified her happened! Right there in front of the whole class. Her pretty pink panties dropped to the floor and so did Donna. She fainted. There was nothing anyone would do to get her to go back to that class. Fortunately there was two third grade classes. The other class room was thought to have had the smarter children.
Alex's grand Daugherty at Bingham Reunion 
 Donna was moved in to Mrs. Littlefield’s class room. Shortly after Donna attended Mrs. Littlefield’s class she asked Donna if she would mind retaking a test. "No, I don't mind" said Donna and she redid the test just as well as she had the first time. Mrs. Littlefield recognized Donna's potential, and her artistic ability. Donna was given the job of decorating the monthly bulletin board and choosing a student each month to help her. For years after any time Mrs. Littlefield saw Donna's mother she would ask how Donna was doing. Sometimes the things in life that make as faint turn out to be our greatest blessing.

Games
Myra Heaton‎ asks, does anyone remember the Thursday night volleyball games held in the gym at the Mormon Church where everyone in the community was invited, cupcakes, corndogs and everything was sold to pay for the next week’s goodies. This went on for years. I was a family programmer at Kearns Oquirrh Park Fitness Center where I planned Volleyball family nights using this memory as a template. Families loved it but I loved it more.
Alex Montoya many years earier

Susan Remembers that Mayra Heaton posted the Thursday night volley ball games at the church. I remember the year that I was finally old enough to be on a team. There was only a few things that would get my Dad out to church, a funeral or activities that were held in the cultural hall. Dad was a captain of one of the teams.  This tournament was held during the winter months, packing the hall between the kitchen and cultural hall with people buying corn dogs or whatever else the ladies in the kitchen had to offer. However the real excitement was the tournament! It gave us something to look forward to each week to break up those long, cold, dark winter evenings in the winter. I played on my Dads team. I don't know if he wanted me, or no one else would pick me? In all fairness, all of our family including my mother was fairly athletic. Spiking the ball was not my talent, but I was pretty consistent about getting that ball over the net. I often walked to the game after dark, taking the short cut across the dump behind our house.  

The dump was not where garbage was dumped, but at one time the tailing from the mine had been dumped there. The town had cleaned it off and put a ball diamond and tennis court. Along the side of the tennis court a dirt road lead to the church. Between the tennis court and the church was a gentle slope with a thick wire cable strung in holes in a post to keep cars from getting to close during ball games. At one place in the wire cable it sagged and people often used it as a short cut to the church instead of going around the tennis court. This particular winter the snow drifted heavily along the wire cable. Were it sagged there was a huge pile of snow to the point that you didn't even half to jump the cable. There was a well packed path to the church. Well you might ask yourself "so what" well the first year that I played volley ball two things happened in Lark that sticks in my mind. 
Miners waiting ride in tunnel 


First our neighbor went missing. He lived with his brother and his brother had been asking around town if anyone had seen him. It was well know that his brother was a drinker and often dispersed for weeks at a time. Sometimes he would hitch hike down the valley and work odd jobs, sometimes he worked at Nicolette's Goat Ranch.  When he got a pay check he got liquored up. The second thing that took place that winter, revolved around a mature couple in town that had never had children. She was playing volley ball that year. One day she became ill. Her husband had horses that he feed across town. He left long enough to feed the horses, when he got back much too both their surprise she had given birth to a healthy baby boy. This was exciting news for our little town of Lark. The mystery of our neighbor was not discovered until spring. Dad rode in a car pool, he often had the guys drop him of at the church. He would then take the short cut across the dump. The snow had begun to melt the path that we had traveled all winter. Dad discovered the mystery of our missing neighbor. He was the reason why the snow was so high at the sag in the cable. Dad notified the police. I never stepped over the sag in the cable after that, without thinking of who we had been traipsing over all winter, of the year that I was old enough to play volley ball.

Winter
Scout Camp helpers in Butterfield

Just loaded the fire place with wood. It’s a whopping 16 degrees out there. At least we haven't hit the negatives yet. Bob and I have had a war over the thermostat in the house and car sense 1974. He likes it cold, I like it hot.  I think, I might be gaining some ground on the home front? I can't prove it scientifically but in my observation, some people's internal thermostat runs either hot or cold. I love the heat from an oven door, or a car in the summer. You think I'm crazy! I tell you what’s crazy! Being in the high Unitas in a sleeping bag, in a tent, in the middle of the night, shivering because it feels like your sleeping on a block of ice and the day light will never come, or flying across a frozen Scofield reservoir on a snowmobile with slush soaking your clothes. I blame this aversion to being cold from my childhood. You see there was this ritual in the winter that we followed anytime we could. It began with a pair of thermal underwear, then you put on two of the best socks you could find.(no holes in the toes) next was the bread sack to cover the socks, followed by another pair of socks to keep the bread sack from falling down. Next came the layering of clothing, but this was tricky. You had to put on just enough to keep warm, but not so many that you couldn't move freely. Lastly, was coat, hat and gloves. Lark was all hills.


 There was a hill behind my house, a hill to get to the school, a hill to the store, there was housing at the top of town called the Heights. But when it came to sledding or tubing Turpin Hill was the best! Lark, as I remember never lacked for good snow fall. I often remember the snow on the sides of the road being over my head. (But then how tall was I as a little girl.) The hardest part was packing our tubes and sled, all uphill just to get to Turpin Hill. If you were lucky, some other kids from town had already packed Turpin Hill making a path to sled down and banked the
LARK

bottom so if you went too far you wouldn't' fly out in to the road. I can't even imagine how many times we must have gone up and down that hill in the several hours that we spent there. I don't ever remember an adult being there to make sure we didn't do anything to crazy. As far as I know, I don't think any one was hurt too BAD, because we did do some crazy things. Shortly after the sun went down it got really cold, really fast, and we couldn't take it any longer. 

REMEMERING PEOPLE AND TIMES
By People who lived in Lark
LARK REUNION

This is a picture of Lavon and Clyde Crump. My grandfather Clyde was born and raised in Herriman and my grandmother Lavon was born and raised in Coalville. They were married in 1924 and moved to Lark in 1927 when Clyde was appointed as a part time deputy sheriff for the Bingham District. He also worked as an electrician at the Lark Mine. He was the first bishop of the LDS Ward in Lark serving from 1945-1952. He followed Dorus Thomas who was the Branch President of Lark from 1923 to 1945. Lavon worked as a clerk at the Lark Mercantile for many years. Lavon was killed in a tragic car accident in 1976 and Clyde died in 1985 after he was moved from Lark to Copperton

This is a picture of my Grandfather Clyde Crump taken in July 1978 by Ren Willie just before Clyde moved to Copperton. The second picture shows his house with his elm tree trimmed. The third picture shows Lark's Main Street looking east in July of 1978.

Mr. & Mrs. CRUMP
Don Gressmen said Clyde was a very important man in my life. I respected and admired him as a great man. He took me under his wing when I first moved to Lark and made sure I stayed active in the church and took good care of my grandmother. I truly loved that man.

Sally Starnes said, our first house backed up to Clyde Crumps so we had back to back...back yards! We also had Clyde Gillam. The Crumps were so nice to us! Cal! Remember the Gillam kids ....your back yard neighbors?

Leigh Ann Turnbow Reber said I remember these guys. Oh! My Gosh! I loved them. Thank you for sharing that picture.

Pam, Kieth and Janet WEBB
Susan Hopes said, Thanks for sharing this picture. I remember Clyde fervently bearing his testimony on fast and testimony Sunday's.  Larry Martinez said, Mrs. Crump worked at the Lark Store.

Here are three Lark legends. Clyde Crump, Dorus Thomas and Jim Reed. Clyde Crump was the first bishop of the Lark LDS Ward from 1945 to 1951, Dorus Thomas was the Branch President of the Lark Branch from 1923 to 1945 and Jim Reed was bishop from 1951 to 1958. The new Lark Ward Building was dedicated in 1956 when Jim Reed was bishop.

Carol Steel Michaelsen What a beautiful photo of three wonderful citizens of my favorite town of Lark. All three contributed unselfishly to the welfare of everyone who lived there. It brings tears to my eyes remembering times of my childhood in that town. What a wonderful era and wonderful people to associate with. I am so grateful for being a part of that time.

LARK REUNION