Legal At Last

I have been blessed with twelve grandchildren. Half are girls and half are boys. I also have one great grandchild, a boy. All are healthy, alert, outgoing and doing well in school or their chosen profession. My third oldest grandchild is Annie who lives with her mother in Boston, MA. We see her once or twice a year when she comes to visit us and her maternal grandmother who lives in Mesquite, NV. This Christmas, New Year season, she bypassed us and went with her mother directly to Mesquite. Annie was born on December 23rd and so at midnight the 22nd, she and her mother, grandmother, etc. went to a casino to celebrate the occasion. They walked in right after midnight and Annie picked a slot machine, dropped in five quarters and on the first pull of the handle hit a $25.00 jackpot. The lights flashed and the bell rang and when the slot attendant came over, the first thing he did was "card" Annie. She proudly showed him her drivers licence proving she was 21. I'm not sure if they stayed and played the slots anymore or whatever but it was an exciting thing for Annie and her mom. I hope her luck continues throughout her life.

BYH Class of 1949

Half a load of 49ers headed for Upper Campus!

By Lynn Rogerson,
I started high school in Cedar City, Utah. About half-way through my sophomore year the Rogerson family moved to Provo, where we lived on 4th South just off University Avenue. I enrolled at Provo High and went there for a year and a half.

I wanted to play sports, but only those who were recommended by the two local junior high coaches were chosen to play Provo High varsity sports.

I really wanted to play football, so I decided to transfer to B. Y. High. I loved my senior year there, and wish that I had gone to BYH all three years.

When I was 16, my oldest sister gave me a 1935 Dodge 4-door car. I traded it in on a Ford Model A 2-door, and by my senior year, I had traded that for a Model A coupe with a rumble seat.

I enjoyed driving the car up Provo Canyon when I went skiing at Timp Haven. Sometimes I was lucky enough to be one of the few who made it up to the ski area, with the help of chains on the back wheels.

I didn’t drive my car to school every day, but on the days I did, everybody wanted a ride in it, or a chance to drive it. When the roads were bad, I left my car parked at home.

Many of us had a typing class sixth period taught by Mr. LeRoy Sparks, but the classroom was located on the Upper Campus in the Business Department. On the days I had my car at school, I saved myself a long walk by driving to the Upper Campus.

Often when I started to leave the Lower Campus, at least eight or nine other students jumped on my running boards or fenders, climbed into the rumble seat, or stood on the rear bumper, and away we’d go to typing class.

Some of the frequent riders included Norm Arbon, Gayle Curtis, Frankie Paskett, Karl Snow, Jae Ballif, and Kent Broadhead. There were others, but I can’t remember all of the names.

When I drove alone, the Model A always made it up the hill in high gear. However, when I had a load of students aboard, I usually had to down shift to second gear.

Sometimes we made it all the way to class without being stopped, but on quite a few occasions a Provo City cop pulled me over and made everybody get off. One Provo cop in particular, named Deloy Bench, dogged me during my teen years, and even after I returned home from my mission. I never received a ticket, but got many warnings.

As soon as the cop gave his warning and left, everybody would pile back on and away we’d go to class, hanging on for dear life.Those were great days!



BYH Wildcat Football Team 1948-1949
Lynn Rogerson, sitting fourth from the left on the first row.

RaNae

I want everyone to know what a sweet, caring person my wife RaNae is. During the 53 years we have been married, she has always put her family first. We have three great sons who owe their position in life to a mother who was dedicated to availing their every need while growing to manhood. My chosen career took me away from home much of the time but when I came home, she would always bring me up to date as to the family progress. I missed being with my family and we made up for it by seeing that our boys had every opportunity to participate in school events, sports, scouting and being involved in current events when it improved them as well as making religion a major event in their lives. Largely because of her, all three boys are Eagle Scouts and filled honorable missions. It was her influence that accomplished this. I had some influence on their growing up but it was their mother who was and is always there for t hem. During my thirty first year of life, I contracted life threatening health problems that are still with me today. RaNae has stood by me during surgical operations and at times nursed me back to health. Her concern for my well being is evident in that she is always reminding me to take my medications, reminding me of doctor appointments and things we have planned. RaNae graduated from BYU before we were married. During our marriage, she has worked most of the time except when on maternity leave. She retired in the late 90’s but when it became evident that I could not work anymore, she again went to work for a company as Office Manager. I recently received an e-mail about motherhood that I’d like to insert here:

Mommy to Mom to Mother

MOTHERS

Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in
the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of carpets.

Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.

Real Mothers sometimes ask "Why me?" and get their answer when
a little voice says, "Because I love you best."

Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by
height or years or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mommy to
Mom to Mother...

The Images of Mother
4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!

8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!

12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.

14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.

16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.

18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!

25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it.

35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom' s opinion.

45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?

65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she’ll wear, the
figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair ...
The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway
to her heart, the place where love resides ...
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul ...
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that
she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows
This e-mail is so typical of the way our sons have related to their mother. As I read it I can see the stages of their lives as it says and remember each as they made the transition from “Mommy to Mom to Mother.”

West Coast Cruise

Last month RaNae and I went on a week long cruise. It originated in Vancouver, B.C. with ports of call at Victoria, B.C., Astoria, OR, San Francisco CA and finally, Los Angeles, CA. WE were in a tour group of about 70 people. We flew to Seattle, WA and then were bussed to Vancouver. The bus trip took about 3 hours. Our first port of call was Victoria, B.C. where we went on a tour of the "Butchart Gardens." There isn't room here to tell of how the gardens originated, only to say that they were planted in and around an old lime quarry that Mr. Butchart owned and mined. His wife was the one who did the flower garden thing to cover up the quarry scars. Needless to say, it was beautiful with flowers from, I think, most countries of the world. My favorite flower collection was the rose garden. There were 1300 different varieties of roses there. Several countries were represented individually. The next day we stopped at Astoria, OR. Of course, we had to do a Customs thing on the ship before we got off in the USA. Astoria is at the mouth of the Columbia River. We were there for a whole day and toured the small city and the Mariners Museum. When we left there we were a whole day and night at sea. There were, that night, 3 foot swails in the ocean and though the ship was huge, it still rocked a little from side to side. RaNae felt a little seasick and opted to go to bed at about 9:00 PM. Our room had a balcony and so the rocking was more graphic as we sailed along. There were 9 restaurants on board and the food was all free except the drinks - all soft drinks and all mixed drinks were charged to your on board ship account. Of the 9 restaurants on board, four of the more up-class one's had a cover charge. We ate at two of those. The food was excellent and there were a couple of restaurants open 24 - 7, one of which was a buffet. There was a variety of evening shows that we enjoyed. One of the auditoriums was as big as an I Max theater. After Astoria, we were at sea again for a whole day and night, arriving at the Golden Gate bridge at 6:00 am. We were in San Francisco a day and a half. We had reserved a tour to Sausilito and Muir Woods. It was a nice tour that took about 4 hours. Muir woods is a part of the California Redwood forest and was awe inspiring with the huge redwoods. Sausilito was a typical tourist town. We also spent time at Fisherman's Wharf and Ghiridelli Square We left 'Frisco the next morning at 10:00 am and were at sea again for a day and night arriving in Los Angeles on Saturday. After de boarding and collecting our luggage, our bus took us to Long Beach where the Queen Mary is docked. We just sat around for six hours instead of sitting at LAX. We arrived home at 7;55 PM that night. It was a great trip and well worth the price.

Matilda

RaNae and I got married in 1955. At the time, I had a 1950 Ford convertible that I had nicknamed "Matilda." It was a great car. The previous owner had split the V8 engine exhaust manifold so the exhaust was twin pipes that had a deep resonant tone. That was in the days before catalytic converters so the engine sound could be heard through the mufflers and exhaust pipes. On the day we were married, (a Tuesday,) we rode to Manti, Utah with RaNae's Mom & Dad. My parents came in their car. RaNae's best friend and Bridesmaid and her husband drove my car to Manti. They came home with RaNae's parents. When we arrived in Salt Lake City, we went to an apartment that had been rented by another of RaNae's girlfriends who was to be married the next week. We had our wedding reception that night and spent our wedding night at the apartment. The next morning, we discovered that the car was gone. Before we even called the police, RaNae's Dad called and said the car was parked in front of their house in Midvale. We took a bus to Midvale but when we arrived at RaNae's home, the car was gone. We didn't go on a honeymoon as I was scheduled to go in the army in eight days. So, I went to my job (A Civil
Engineering firm) and RaNae went to hers. Later that day, RaNae called me and said that her Mom had received an anonymous phone call saying the car was parked on a Salt Lake east side street called Wasatch Boulevard. I got one of the guys at work to take me to the car but when we got there, it was gone. On Friday of that week, another fellow from work and I went to our bosses garage to get some survey stakes and when we opened the garage door, there was my car. It was stolen originally by an old boy friend of Ranae's who was in cahoots with her Mom & Dad and the guys where I worked. I was glad to get my car back. The caper had been done in good fun and we have reminisced about it many times over the past 53 years. We kept the car until 1957 and then traded it for a newer one when I got discharged from the Army.

Eagle Project

When I was twelve years old in 1942, I joined he Boy Scouts of America. It was an exciting program and I enjoyed the meetings, scout camps and jamborees. The ranks of Tenderfoot, Second Class and First Class Scout weren't too difficult to attain and I did so as the time lapse between each rank was attained. I had an ideal to look up to in the person of my older sister's husband. He was an Army Air Corp Officer but was also an avid scouter. He had earned all of the Merit Badges available at that time and wherever he and my sister went, he was involved in the scouting program. Earning Merit Badges for rank advancement is strictly a product of ambition and there were those who advanced in rank from Star Scout to Life and Eagle Scout as quickly as possible. I was sixteen (1947) by the time I had attained the rank of Life Scout. As all know, Merit Badges are not the only thing necessary to attain the rank of Eagle Scout. A Service Project is also necessary. You must plan and organize the project having other scouts help at your direction if necessary. The project I chose was to organize an Assistant Project with the U.S. Forest Service who was planning a reforestization project of Provo Peak located east of Provo behind the "Y" mountain. This required going with the rangers to the base of Provo Peak and then hiking up to the area where the planting would be performed. As I recall, there were six rangers and six of us scouts. We all had back packs filled with pine tree seedlings that we carried up the mountain in addition to shovels and our lunches. We had left Provo at six in the morning and by the time we reached the planting area it was about eight o'clock. I had planned that each scout would work with a ranger and by five o'clock in the afternoon, we had completed our task for the day. The twelve of us planted over five hundred trees. The project was accepted by the Great Salt Lake Council of the BSA and I received my Eagle Award in July of that year. I didn't check up as to the success of the reforestization project until 2007. I learned that the project had been a success in preventing erosion of that area that had been hit hard the previous winter wherein a lot of trees were lost due to the harsh winter conditions. During my scouting career, I didn't earn all the Merit Badges but enough to earn the Eagle Award with two Silver Leafs. I would be amiss if I didn't thank my Mom for the prodding she did to inspire me to accomplish my goal.

Prompting of the Spirit

My Dad worked construction most of his life. Shortly after he married my Mom, he got a job as a "Cat Skinner." The "Cat" was also known as a "Bulldozer." I asked him how he got the job and he said that he taught himself while demonstrating to his prospective employer that he could operate the equipment. For the next forty plus years, he worked construction jobs all over the country from Idaho to the Panama Canal and from Utah to South Carolina. During 1938 and 1939, my Dad, "Digger," was working on the Deer Creek Dam in Heber Valley in Utah. His job required that he, among other things, pioneer a road from the east side of the dam to the Walsberg road
east of Heber City. To this day, the highway follows the route he made. On one occasion, he stopped for lunch and backed his "cat" up to a steep incline that was in the shade to eat his lunch while sitting in the seat of the "cat." He had finished eating and was taking a nap before resuming his work. Suddenly, he awoke and a voice told him to get out of the seat and on to the ground. He did so and within a few seconds a rock from up the hill about four feet in diameter landed in the seat where he had been sitting. The rock must have been jarred loose while he was working the hillside for the road. He told me this story to emphasize the importance of following the promptings of the spirit. Had he not listened to and followed that small voice, he surely would have been killed. He was a very humble man though his outward demeanor did not show it.

Throwin'' The Weight Around

My older sister's third husband was, I think, about twenty yeas older than her. His Son in Law was Governor of Wyoming during the 70's and early 80's. His name was Ed Hirschler. Interestingly enough, I was working for a trucking company as Lease Manager at that time. The company ran about 40 leased trucks. My job, among other things required that the equipment be licensed in the states we ran in. On one occasion, an emergency required that I fly to Cheyenne, Wyoming to get plates for the trucks. The company was starting a new job transporting crude oil from Wyoming and I needed the plates for the next day. While attempting to accomplish this, I was being hassled by the Wyoming license plate division. After several attempts to get the plates, I mentioned that my sister's Son in Law was Governor Hirschler and that I was going to call her and tell her of the treatment I was getting. As I started to leave, the director of that department stopped me and said to wait a minute. Thirty minutes later, I had the plates and was on my way home. It just goes to show you that sometimes throwing your weight around gets positive results.

Memories

As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember

Digger and Butch

My dad, Linsey Clair Rogerson, his given name that he hated and changed to Lynn C Rogerson by which he was known except on LDS Church records told me many stories about his youth which occurred around the turn of the century, he being born in 1892. One of my favorite stories is about an incident that happened to him when he was 10 years old. He lived, with his family in Monticello, UT. He relates this story: "In the summer of 1902 a man came to our house one morning riding a white horse. He spoke to my father who instructed me and a friend to put the horse in the barn and then to stay outside and be quiet around the house. My dad and the man then went into our house. An hour or so later the Sheriff came to our house and came up to my father. He said: 'Johnny, have you seen a man ride past here on a white horse?' to which my father replied 'no.' (He didn't lie. The man did not ride past, he came onto our property and went in the house.) The Sheriff said 'If you see anyone like that, please notify me' and rode off. Later in the early evening, my father called me and my friend into the house. The man, who had been sleeping, was still there and my dad introduced us to him as Butch Cassidy. It appears that Butch and his gang had robbed the telegraph station in Castledale, UT the day before and had split up, Butch coming south to Monticello. My father knew Butch from their childhood days when Butch would come to Parowan, UT where my father lived before moving to Monticello under Brigham Young's orders to help settle the town. Butch reached into his pocket and retrieved two 25 dollar gold pieces then said to us, 'Promise me that you will never draw a gun on another man' before giving us the coins. We made the promise. and he gave one to me and one to my friend. I was sent to get the white horse and Butch rode off. I never saw him again. I have kept my promise made to Butch and though I have always owned hand guns, I've never drawn on another man, even in fun." How about that?

My Truck Blew it's Top

In 1965 I worked for a trucking company called W.S. Hatch Co. This company was a transporter of liquid and dry bulk commodities throughout the Western United States. As a driver for that company one of the jobs I did was to operate a “Distributor.” A distributor is a truck with an apparatus attacked to the back of the truck that distributes hot specialized oil through a spreader bar on to the road surface that binds asphalt or fine gravel to it. If you have seen the movie “Cool Hand Luke” you'll remember an episode where a tank truck sprayed hot oil on the road and the men then scattered sand over the oil to resurface the road. The truck that sprayed the oil is called a “Distributor.” After loading the tank at an oil refinery and going to the job site, it is necessary in preparing to spread or “shoot” the oil to gradually heat the spreader bar to prevent it from cracking open with the sudden impact of the hot oil that is, sometimes, 1500 degrees Fahrenheit or more. A gradual introduction of oil in to the bar is required and the oil is circulated through the spreader bar and then back into the tank increasing the flow as the bar warms up. When the spreader bar is hot, it is time to shoot the oil. On one occasion after I had worked for the company for some time and was made a Driver Supervisor,I was sent to instruct and help a new spreader operator on his first job. The job location was near Elberta, UT, 20 or so miles west of Payson, UT. I followed the truck in my company car and when we arrived at the job site, men from the Utah Highway Dept. were there to do their jobs. We proceeded to do the drill as I indicated above but unbeknownst to us, this particular distributor truck had been used the day before to shoot another type of oil and had been cleaned with high pressure steam but had not been dried out. Water was left in the spreader bar and when that water circulated back into the tank of hot oil, there was an explosion of steam and oil that literally blew the dome lid open and sprayed the hot oil all over everyone within 25 feet of the truck. I, along with a State Road worker and the spreader operator had the hot oil sprayed on us. The state guy was wearing a T shirt and no cap. I was not wearing a cap but had a short sleeved shirt open at the neck as did the spreader operator. The state guy got the worst of it with hot oil over his head, shoulders, arms and back. The spreader operator jot some on his arms and shoulders. I had oil on my head, shoulders, back and arms. We all got into my car and headed for the hospital emergency in Payson. When all was said and done, the state guy wound up in the hospital for a stay with 2nd and 3rd degree burns over 50% of his body. When the ER staff started to clean me up the only places I was burned was on my arms and the top of my head. My upper arms, shoulders and back though covered with the hot oil were not burned in the least. Essentially, I was protected where my Temple Garments covered my body. The ER staff noticed this too and one nurse commented about it. That to me was a real testimony builder.

Digger Blows his Horn

Digger was a true "Maverick" and as such was able to do and get away with things most of us could never achieve. Some of the stories I have posted about his time at BYU illustrate this point very well. The following is yet another of his antics while there.

Digger had seats in the Faculty section of the Smith Field house and attended all basketball games. I remember one time he had one of his men install a blow horn, that made a loud obnoxious sound when activated, installed up in the catwalks of the Field house with a wire that ran to a button under his seat. The next time there was a home game, Digger "Blew His Horn" as a cheer for the Cougs. After about three or four times of the horn blast, they stopped the game to locate the horn at which time he made a hasty disappearing act so as to not get caught. The next week he had the horn and button removed. And yes, you guessed it, he didn't get into trouble.

Digger's Racing Stripes

In the mid sixties, Digger had a 1949 or 1950 Ford car. It ran good as all of Diggers autos died. All of the family borrowed the Ford when needed in case of an emergency. One time RaNae’s little brother, Jerry, who was going to BYU at the time, had his own car break down and needed a loaner. I arranged for him to use Digger’s ’49 Ford. After that, the car got nicknamed “Jerry.” I don’t remember what happened to the car The following is about Digger and the way he conducted his affairs while doing his job at BYU. It involves the car we called “Jerry.”

When Digger worked for BYU, he was always tearing buildings down, preparing sites for new construction, and general remodel on BYU facilities. It was his custom to carry a can of Blue spray paint in his truck in case he found anything that he wanted for himself. When coming on an object too big for him to move himself, he would get out and spray “Digger” on it in his handwriting in large cursive letters. Every one on the jobs then knew whose it was. Old swamp coolers, fans, pipe, furniture, toilets and other fixtures, 50 gallon drums, tanks, steel, plywood, other kinds of wood, it didn’t matter.

He saw most of this “stuff” as goods he could trade for something he really needed. In 1964 he had an old faded 1949 or1950 Ford. He made a deal with the guys in the BYU paint shop to trade him a new paint job for a toilet one of them needed in remodeling his house. The deal was, the color didn’t matter, just use whatever paint they had extra.

After about two weeks, they called him one night and told him they would finish it that night and it would be dry and ready for him the following morning.

Digger always left for work early in the morning. This was a Saturday and he got me up (We were visiting for the wekend) to go with him so that I could drive his truck back home and he would bring the car. We got there around 6:00 am – summertime so it was light. The garage to the paint shop was locked and no one was there yet but Digger wanted to see what the car looked like.

Digger couldn’t wait. He got a hammer out of his truck and started banging on the lock, but it would not break. Finally, he used the claw on the hammer to pry the door open just enough to put one eye up to the door and look in. As soon as he looked, he exclaimed “sons-a-bitches”, and stomped off to the truck.

I immediately ran up to the door and put my eye up to look in. The lights were still on inside curing the paint so I could plainly see what had been done. The painters had painted Digger’s Ford a most interesting dirt brown color – but that wasn’t what he had reacted to. Starting at the front grill and continuing uninterrupted up over the hood, top and trunk - except for the windshields, they had painted two “Digger Blue” racing stripes about 3” wide the length of the car.

We left the car and went back home. He never said anything. On Monday he went to work with a toilet in the back of his pick-up, traded it for his new paint job, told them how great it looked and drove it for many more years. When he came on campus, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind whose car it was.

Digger and Sand

This posting is one of many I intend to write about my Dad who carried the nickname “Digger” during the last 35 years of his life. He worked at Brigham Young University in charge of many things in the Physical Plant Department of the University. This included roads, grounds, new construction on campus, etc. It was there that he earned his nickname.

In 1954 The University put on a production entitled “Sand in Their Shoes.” It was a play about the Mormon Battalion and was intended as an outside production. The presentation was to take place in the football stadium of the day. At that time the stadium was located just north of the present location of the Smith Field house. The stadium seating was literally built on the side of a hill with bleacher style seating only. (No chair seats) The stadium was able to hold a few thousand people. Little notice was given to the care of the wooden bleacher seats and they showed it from the many years of being put upon by the elements of nature.

As they were preparing the stadium and football field to stage the production, Digger being the one who had the manpower and the means to accomplish this, met at the stadium one day with the school President, Earnest L Wilkinson, Church President, David O. McKay and a couple of other brethren, probably apostles and Diggers boss. The discussion was about the condition of the wooden bleacher seats and whether or not they should be sanded and maybe painted. Whereupon, Digger in his own inimitable style of stating things said: “If something isn’t done, when the people come to see ‘Sand in Their Shoes’ they’ll get slivers in their Butts.” Whether of not the seats were sanded and painted, I don’t know, but the production went on and was, as I recall, a big success – slivers and all.

Digger

It seems that all men have a little larceny in their souls. The following incident occurred in 1954. My Dad whose nickname was “Digger” worked at BYU in the Physical Plant Department. He was in charge of all the campus roads, building appearance, Parking lots, etc. He had a crew of six full time men with an additional twenty part-time students. In the summer of 1954 due to a lot of expansion going on around the campus, the University purchased a truck mounted backhoe used mainly for digging trenches, etc. On the day of the purchase, Digger went to Salt Lake City to take delivery of the backhoe. By the time he returned to Provo it was after five o’clock in the evening. He drove the truck into the fenced area where the equipment was kept and went into his office before going home. While he was in his office, he noticed that the president of the University, Howard S McDonald had driven into the yard and was looking at the new backhoe. Digger didn’t pay him any attention and he, Pres. McDonald soon left, as did Digger, locking the yard gate. This was on Friday and when he went to work the next Monday, he noticed that a set of spot lights that came with the backhoe for night work but were not yet mounted and left in the cab of the backhoe were missing. He thought nothing about it thinking that one of his crew was playing a trick on him by hiding them. About four days later, he was digging a trench on the campus and noticed that Pres. McDonald was watching him. Digger stopped what he was doing and got down to talk to Pres. McDonald. During their conversation, Pres. McDonald said: “Aren’t there supposed to be some spot lights mounted on the machine for night work?” Whereupon, Digger jokingly said: “Yes, what did you do with them?” Digger said that Pres. McDonald had a blank look on his face and said: “I’ll go get them.” He got in his car, left and returned a few minutes later with the spot lights, gave them to Digger without a word, got in his car and left. Just goes to show you all men have a little larceny in their souls. This story was related to me by "Digger" who said "To this day, I'll never know what possessed me to ask Pres. McDonald that question. It just popped out."

Carrying

During my Junior High teenage years we lived in a small city in Southern Utah. For my 14th birthday, my folks gave me a .22 caliber rifle. All of my friends had .22’s and almost every Saturday a few of us would get together and go rabbit hunting north of town. We also did a lot of target practice. If one of us shot a cottontail rabbit, we would take it home to eat. Jack Rabbits were plentiful and we shot a lot of them but just left them there.

One of my friends Dad removed the fireing pin from a .32 caliber pistol and we played with it during our “Cops and Robbers” fantasies. The gun had a scabbard so you could strap it on to your waist. We took turns keeping the gun for a week at a time then passing it along to the next guy. One Sunday evening as my parents and I were preparing to go the Sacrament Meeting, they left to do some errand and said they would meet me in church. As I was leaving to go to Sacrament Meeting, a friend who had the .32 pistol came by to give it to me as it was my turn to have it for a week. Instead of taking the pistol and scabbard in the house, I just strapped it on, concealed under my suit coat and went on my way to Sacrament Meeting. I didn’t tell anyone that I had the gun and took my place with the other boys my age on the Deacons row. I passed the Sacrament with the pistol strapped to my waist! Later, I told my Mom and she just about died at the thought of what I had done. To put it mildly I got a good tongue lashing. After that week, I never had the pistol again.

Contrast what I just wrote about and think what would happen if a young, stupid boy did such a thing in this day and age even if joking. Even if the gun had been a cap pistol, he’d wind up in the Slammer and probably put on probation for a year or so. How times have changed.

"Life is like a Box of Choklits"

To quote Forrest Gump's Mom: "Life is like a box of choklits - You never know what you're gonna get." The human body is like that,it's an amazing thing. I'm talking about the resiliency it possesses in regards to punishment., Last Wednesday I had a "Carpel Tunnel operation on my right wrist. Add that to the fact that I've have had or have had done to me the following: 1935 - Got hit be a car. It broke my left leg, left arm, left collar bone and pushed my upper jaw bone out of place. I also received a skull fracture and a brain concussion. The car that hit me was a 1934 Cadillac. (Woman drive) The bumper took my leg and arm, the headlight took my collar bone and my head. That was in July, I think and I was in the hospital until Christmas Eve. I had a body cast on for 14 weeks. In 1936 I had another brain concussion from a fall. That one about took me but my Dad administrated to me and I'm sure it saved my life. I had all of the childhood diseases - Clicked Pox, Measles, Whooping Cough, and Scarlet Fever. Never got the Mumps. Other than there normal cuts, bruises and blisters, a couple of bouts with the Flu and Pneumonia, nothing happened throughout my teens and young adulthood. However in 1972 I broke both bones in my right wrist from falling out of a ski chair lift while teaching my two youngest sons how to ski. But that's another story. In 1962 I became a Type 1 Diabetic. I have been Insulin dependant since the beginning, taking one to five Insulin injections per day. Due to the Diabetes and my stubbornness in not observing a healthy diet, I have no teeth, bad eyesight and have had eight of my ten toes amputated. From my Mom's side of the family, I have Arthritis, miner though it may be, it has caused me some pain. I've had three neck operations to remove pressure on my Spinal Column that was making my arms go numb and lower back surgery to relieve pain in my legs. My last five vertebrae - L1 through L5, are tied together with Titanium rods and screws. Last but not least, in 1993 I had a Quad Bypass Heart operation. I'd never had a heart attack; the heart condition was discovered by a Stress Test. The good news is that my heart is strong, my kidneys and liver continue to function 100% and I am still mobile and able to do anything I want. So, bring on th "choklits" I still have a lot of living to do.

A Temple Excursion

I was discussing LDS beliefs with a non LDS friend of mine and the subject of Baptism for the Dead came up. It reminded me of a time in my life when I was sixteen years old. My friends and I were in a Sunday School class taught by my Mother. The course of study that year included the topic of "Baptism for the Dead." During the discussion, my Mom asked if the class would like to do baptism for the dead. The response was 100% in favor of the idea. We decided on the day to go and my Mom made the arrangements. We decided to go to he Manti Temple to perform the ordinances. One of my friends (I'll call him Dave) who was active in all aspects of the Church wanted to go with us but he was not a member. He went to our Bishop and told him of his desires. The Bishop told him he would, first of all, need to become a member of the LDS church. Dave knew this and ask the Bishop to talk to his parents for permission to be baptized. This was accomplished and so with all of us, Dave got a recommend not only for his own baptism but a recommend to perform baptism for the dead. On the prescribed day, we all got on a bus and went to Manti, Utah and the temple there. My maternal grandparents lived in Manti and were ordinance workers in the Temple. As such, my grandfather supervised the baptism session. First off, Dave was baptized and confirmed a member of the church. We then proceeded to do the baptisms. There were about 18 members in the class about equally divided by sex. All of the boys, except Dave, were Priests and, therefore, could perform baptisms. So, we took turns baptizing each other both boys and girls. The confirmations were performed by the Ordinande workers. As I recall, we did about 300 baptisms that day. It is an experience that I will never forget and a tribute to my Mother that I'll always cherish.

It Happened in Vegas

Over the thirty years that I drove proffessioonally I only had one accident and that one was not chargeable to me. It hapened in 1964. I was driving for a company that transported fresh and frozen foods for a wholesale company in Salt Lake City. On this particular trip, my driving partner and I had come from Los Angeles with a load of Clorox headed for Salt Lke. I had started driving in Colton, CA and arrived at Las Vegas about 1:30 AM The freeway ended before arriving at Vegas and all traffic was channeled onto old US Highway 91. The highway went into Vegas via the "Strip." At this time of the morning traffic was light. Most of the shows had let out at One o'clock. I woke my partner as we started up the strip and he was sitting up smoking a cigarette. As I approached the Sands Hotel, a car pulled out in front of me. I was only going about 30 mph, hit my brakes and turned hard to the right but still hit the rear drivers side of the car. My rig went under the entry canopy of the casino, through a small retaining wall that seperated the main entrance from the cars coming to and leaving the casino. I stopped just short of the revolving doors to the casino. I ran back to the car that I had hit and found that the man driving had a bad cut on his head. Shortly, the police and an ambulance arrived. They took the guy and his wife to the hospital. There were plenty of witnesses in my favor and I was not cited. The star at the Sands that time was Paul Anka who had heard the noise from his dressing room and came out to see what had happened. (Later, my 9 year old son asked if I had gotten his autograph.) When we went to back the truck out of the Sands entrance, we had to pry the bumper away from the left front tire and that was all the damage that the truck suffered. As it turned out, the guy that I hit was from Arizona who was supposed to be in LA to a convention. The woman with him was not his wife, and disappeared when they got to the hospital. The car was registered in his wife's name who was still in Arizona. I called my wife and told her what had happened and about 7:00 AM we continued our trup to Salt Lake City.

That Reminds Me of....

Wizard of Creativity had a posting about footbath therapy. It was great and very interesting. However, sinc I'm a joke teller, it reminded me of one I'd like to pass on:

A middled aged blond woman heard that if you bathed in milk, it would do wonders for your skin in softening it and removing unwanted wrinkles. She ddecided to try it and left a note for her milkman to ring the doorbell when he made his morning delivery so she could order the required milk for the bath. He did as directed and she answered the door. She told him about what she had heard and asked if he, the milkman, could deliver enough milk so she could take the desired bath. The milkman thought for a moment and then said "Would you like that pasteurized?" The blond said "No, just up to my bellybutton."

I'll post more as things remind me of good strories.

My first day of Basic Training

I got drafted in July of 1955 and was instructed to report to Ft. Douglas in Salt Lake City on the 5th of August. I did so, was sworn in and was bused with 30 other draftees to Ft. Carson, Colorado. We arrived there about noon the next day and were bused from Colorado Sprins, CO to Ft. Carson. That same day about 100 draftees from elsewhere arrived at the same time. They had us line up single file on the edge of a big parade ground about the size of three football fields side by side. We had each been given a small paper bag. When we marhed onto the parade ground, tnis big mean looking drill sergeant yelled "Halt!" We all did. He then hollered "Right Face" and 129 guys turned right and one turned left. Who was that dummy? You guessed it. It was me. The sergeant came to where I was standing and asked if I knew my right hand from my left. I said I did but he had picked up a rock about the size of a baseball and put it in my right hand as a reminder of which was right and which was left. He told me that I was to carry that rock in my right hand all the rest of the day. I could only put it down while I ate. I even had to sleep with it that night. Anyhow, we were instructed to "Police the Parade Ground" that is to pick up anything that wasn't grass and put it in the paper bags as we crossed the field and stop in a line on the other side. We were then mrched to the mess hall where I had my first army meal. The rest of the day went without incident but I never forgot which was left and which was right.

Did You Hear the One About...

I've always enjoyed telling and listening to jokes - good or bad. It has always amused me that when you get into a joke telling mode with some good friends that as you listen, just a word or phrase will remind you of another joke. One day several years ago I sat down at my computer and typed jokes as they came into my mind. To date I have over 50 pages of jokes - yes, both good bak and ugly. Today, I thought that I would pass along a few jokes to make your day hapier. Here goes:

A blind man walked in to a department store with his seeing-eye dog. He stood there for a few minutes, reached down and grabbed the dog by the tail and began to swing him around his head. A clerk came up to him and said “May I help you, sir.” The blind guy said “No, I’m just looking around.”

One day there was a toad that went into a bank and stepped up to the desk of a loan officer named Patty Black. She asked if she could help the frog and he said, “I’d like to take out a loan. Patty Black asked what the frog had for collateral. The frog said, “What do you mean?” Patty Black said, “We’ll need something of value to secure the loan. The frog opened up his backpack and took out a small ceramic figurine and handed it to Patty Black. Patty said, “This won’t do.” Patty Black said. “Do you have anything else?” “No” said the frog. “That’s all I have.” “Well,” said Patty, “I’ll have to get this approved as collateral for you loan. She called the bank manager to assist her. When the bank manager came up to the desk, he said, “What seems to be the problem?” Patty Black explained the situation and showed the bank manager the small figurine that the frog had offered as security. The bank manager took the figurine and said, “That’s nick-nack, Patty Black, give the frog a loan.”

I'll end with a dumb blond joke:

A man was driving along a highway and saw a rabbit hopping across the road. He swerved to avoid hitting the rabbit, but unfortunately the rabbit jumped in front of the car and was hit. The driver, a sensitive man, as well as an animal lover, pulled over to
the side of the road and got out to see what had become of the rabbit. Much to his dismay, the rabbit was dead. The driver felt so awful that he began to cry. A blonde driving down the highway saw the man crying on the side of the road and pulled over. She stepped out of her car and asked the man what was wrong. "I feel terrible," he explained. "I accidentally hit this rabbit and killed it." The blond told the man not to worry. She knew what to do. She went to her car trunk and pulled out a spray can. She walked over to the limp, dead rabbit, and sprayed the contents of the can onto the rabbit.
Miraculously, the rabbit came to life, jumped up, waved its paw at the two people and hopped off down the road. Ten feet away the rabbit stopped, turned around, waved at the two people again, hopped down the road another 10 feet, waved, and hopped another 10 feet, turned and waved and repeated this again and again until it was out of sight.
The man was astonished. He couldn't figure out what substance could be in the woman's spray can! He ran over to the woman and demanded, "What was in your spray can? What did you spray onto that rabbit?" The blond woman turned the can around so that the man could read the label. It said: Are you ready for this? Are you sure? OK, here it is....... Hair Spray - Restores Life to Dead Hair. Adds Permanent Wave."

I welcome your comments. If you will tell me what you think, I'll post a few more jokes - or not.

Memories from our youth

A posting by Sandi in her Blog "Wizards of Creativity" about a memory of an incident that happened to her when she was three years old made me think of memories of our youth. A fond memory I have happened when I was five years old. I was with my Mom and Dad traveling from St. Maries, Idaho to Safford Arizona. Dad worked for a pipeline constuction company as a "Cat Skinner" or Bull Dozer operator. As such, it was his job, when they moved, to load the bull dozer onto a flat bed semi truck and take it to the next job site. This particular move took plade in December 1936 at Christmas time. My big concern was how Santa Claus was was going to find us if we didn't have a permanent house. It happened at Jacobs Lake, Arizona. We arrived there on Christmas Eve and Dad got us a cabin to stay in. During that night it snowed two feet. In the morning, I found, to my joy, that Santa had indeed found us and I got the toy I had asked for. My Dad unloaded the bull dozer from the semi trailer and plowed all the snow from the trailer court and the owner gave us our cabin rental for free. After the state snow plows went by, we continued on our way to Safford, Ariz. What a thrill it is to think back to that time and know that my parents were mindful of the importance of Christmas and made it happen for me.

Testimony of Leadership

Isn't in wonderful that the Lord always provides us with leadeship in all of the affairs of the Church? We have suffered a great loss with the passing of President Hinkley but know that he will be replaced with the man the Lord wants to take up the mantle of leadership as our next President. It will undoubtedly be President Monson but a new Apostle will also have to be called. We know that these choices are not random. They are done by divine inspiration just as the choice of Mathias was made when the original twelve had to be made whole after the passing of Judas Iscariot. It wasn't a popularity choice, lots were cast by the eleven Apostles and through divine inspiration, it was a 100% choice. It will be the same now as these new callings are made. I've been fortunate enough to have witnessed these divine callings through 10 Church Presidents (including the next one). What a blessing it has been to me. During their callings, each Prophet has made a change that was needed in the growth of the Church. I'll not enumerate them but we know how significant each was. This is my Testimony. I know that we are led by men and women called of God.

My first Golf Tournament

A post from "Wizard of Creativity" reminded me of my first golf tournament experience. It happened in 1951 while I was on my mission to Eastern Canada. My companion and I were laboring in Sherebrooke, Que., a city about the size of Ogden, UT. It was Sunday and we had no church meeting to go to since there were no members and the nearest branch was in Montreal, 150 miles away. We usually spent the time studying or just relaxing. This Sunday, however, was the last day of the PGA Eastern Canadian Open Golf Tournament with such noteable golfers as Ben Hogan & Sam Snead just to mention a couple of the players. We decided to go watch the action. We rode our bikes out to the Sherbrooke Country Club but when we got there, a man at the entrance said that it would cost us $10.00 apiece to get in. We declined and were just about to leave when the head groundskeeper walked by. He, as it turned out, was a gospel investigator that we had been teacching. He said to the gatekeeper, "Let these guys in as my guests." He took us directly to the club house lounge and said to the bartender "These are Mormon Missionaries. They don't smoke, drink coffee or alcohol. Give them whatever they want, food, drink, etc. and give me the tab." He left us there as he had a lot to do. We watched some of the tournament and had a relaxing day away from the rigors of missionary work. I can't remember the investigator's name. I got transferred while we were in the teaching process of him but learned later that he had joined the Church, one of the first in Sherebrooke.

Spiritual ID

In a previous post I told how living as you should, paid off. The following story takes place in Seattle, Washington in 1955. I was in the army stationed at Fort Lawton there in Seattle. It was Christmas time and when our folks asked us what we wanted for Christmas, we said "Send us money." They did but in personal checks both in the amount of $100.00. So here we were, two days before Xmas trying to cash a couple of two party checks. We tried to cash the checks at stores but to no avail. We went to several banks with the same results. We were about to give up when we tried one last bank. When I asked the teller if she could cash the checks, she said the manager would have to okay it first. He asked for ID and I started to take out various forms of ID from my wallet i.e. Army ID, library card, etc. I didn't have a drivers license, it was suspended but that's another story. However, in the process of taking everything out of my wallet, my temple recommend dropped on the counter. The bank manager picked it up and said "Isn't this a Mormon Temple Recommend?" I said yes. He said that he was not a Mormon but had friends that were and knew that in order to have a temple recommend required that a person ge honest and trustworthy living as they should. He asked if our parents also had recommends and we said yes. He said "Based on that, I'm going to approve your checks to be cashed." How thankful we were that we had some "Spiritual ID."

More New Year ''51

During the maple syrup episode of my last post, my companion and I did a little exploring around the area we were at. We found an old deserted loggers cabin and rummaged around in it. There were old dishes, household items, etc. I found an old straight razor along with a shaving mug and brush. I took it with me. The next week I took the razor to our local barber and asked if he could sharpen and restore the razor. He did and the next morning I proceeded to shave with it. I had never used a straight razor before. As I lathered up my face, my companion came into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. In his hands he had a vial of consecrated oil and a towel and bandages in case I cut my throat. We botn got a laugh out of it. However, I did shave without cutting myself. Next day I used my electric razor as I didn't trust my luck with the straight razor.

New Year - '51

The year 1951 was the first that I spent away from home. I was on an LDS church mission to Eastern Canada. My companion and I were living in Midland, Ontario. Right after the new year started, we were invited by one of our gospel investigators to go with them to the bush country (forest) to cut cord wood and make maple syrup. It was on a Saturday our "Preperation Day" so we went. The man we were with had been there two or three days before and tapped several maple trees to collect the sap used in making maple syrup. He had a kiln set up to render the sap and assigned me and my companion to gather the sap, fire the kiln and render the maple sap into maple syrup. The kiln ws an open oblong pan divided into three equal parts. The pan measured six feet long by two feet wide and four incnes deep. The dividers had small holes about the size of a match stick in the corners to allow the sap to flow from one section to another during the rendering process. The kiln was built on a slight downward slope, back to front to allow the sap to go from one section to the next. We spent two hours gathering the gallon size buckets of sap. We started the fire under the kiln and took turns chopping wood and keeping the fire going. By putting the sap in the high side of the kiln and heating it to a boil, as it went from one section to the next it became more concentrated. By the time the sap had reached the last section, it was starting to thicken up to the consistency of maple syrup. We found that it took about ten gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. At the end of the day, we had rendered six gallons of syrup. You can imagine that with the kiln being open that there were some impurities in the finished product. We strained it through my T shirt (the only near clean thing we had) into gallon jugs. It was delicious! You've never tasted maple syrup 'till you've tasted the real thing made from scratch.