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.

Thumpin' tires

When I think of all the things that happened to me while driving an 18 wheeler, some stand out more than others. Some funny, some not. One in such funny incident happeed in the winter of 1968. I was driving for a company that transported refrigerated and dry products. My driving partner and I had picked up a load of fresh pork in Souix City, Iowa and were headed west for a delivrey in California. I was driving and elected to stop on the emergncy lane of the freeway somewhere west of Rawlins,Wyo. to thump the tires, stretch and get some fresh air. It was about 1:00 a.m. and as I recall it was well below freezing on that January night. I got out of the truck and took my "bud bar" to thump the tires. Normally I went to the back of the trtuck humping tires and checking for anything amiss down the traffic side of the truck. This time, however, I went around the front of the truck and went down the borrw ditch side of the truck. I returned to the cab along the traffic side of the truck, got in, quietly closed the door, slipped the truck in gear and pulled onto the freeway. I stopped at Little America, Wyo. about two hours later and unzipped the curtain to the sleeper compartment to wake my partner but he was not there. I immediately knew what had happened. While I was going around the back of the truck, he must have gotten out of the truck and stood beside the drive tires to relieve himself. I didn't notice him and left him standing there in his shorts, barefooted with no coat. I sat there for several minutes not knowing what to do when a car pulled up beside the truck and he got out wrapped in a blanket. I was really releived when I saw him. He told me that after I left him stranded, several trucks and cars went hy ignoring him. He said he stood there for about 20 minutes berore someone stopped. To say the least, he was madder than Hell and I didn't blame him. You can be sure that from that time on, I always checked the sleeper to make sure my partner was there if I had stopped, gotten out of the truck and returned before moving out.

Layed over in Philly

You never know when your true self is being watched by someone else. Case in point: In 1968 while plying my profession as a trucker, I found myself in Philadelphia, PA. My artner and I had delivered a load of frozen french fries to the D.C. area and had been sent to Philly to lease to another trucking company for a load that would take us west. The only trouble was that the Teamsters Union had called a nationwide strike the day before and all trucking companies literally locked thier gates to protect their own loads until the strike was over. We were layed over in Philly while waiting for our dispatcher to find us a load going west. We were there for ten days. We were at a truck stop that had rooms. I spent most of my time reading, sleeping or playing eight ball in the leissure area of the fruck stop. I rode a bus to a nearby theater a couple of times to see a movie. When we finally got a load, when we tried to start our truck, the batteries were dead. We needed a jump start or a push. One of the people I had met while there was an old codger who used the truck stop as a base for a small towing, trouble shooting business. His demeaner was less than desireable being a rough and tumble person both in actions, habits and speech. I knew that he chargerd $50.00 for a push but he was our only choice. I went into the truck stop and asked if he would give us a push. I had the money in hand but when I went to give it to him he said: I've watched you the past week or so while you've been waiting for a load. Of all the men that come and go from this place, I want you to know that I'me never met a cleaner, finer young man than you. You don't smoke or use abusive language or actions. I respect you and for that I will give you a push for free. He did and we were on our way. To me I wasn't doing anything special, just living and acting the way I had been brought up both physically and spiritually. So it just goes to show that your actions and deeds don't go un-noticed. In this case it really paid off.