Poetic Reflections - Celia Hepworth Scheinost, daughter of Leland & Anna Mae

Life in the Backseat (A Mormon Girlhood)

Siblings in THE BACKSEAT

When I sat in the backseat with my brothers I never got bored. I had one brother—the oldest of our siblings—to tease me, and the other—closest in age, with whom I could pick really good fights. Up front things were calm enough, but nothing ever happened. I couldn’t see out up front, either, because I was between my parents on either side—and they were both tall.
When my baby sister came along, she always had to be in the front seat—which I didn’t envy. I missed her up there though; there was such a barrier between the front and back seats. In the front it was boring. In the back it was hard to behave.
But sometimes I got tired of sitting between my brothers. I never got an outside seat, because I was the youngest, and I had to be a sort of creme-filling between boys. I didn’t have a place against which to lean to sleep, which really wasn’t an issue, because I wasn’t a good sleeper—and I never slept in a car—ever.
On very long trips—trips to see my grandparents in Texas—my mother would take my sister into the backseat, and my brothers would sleep on the floor, and I would get the front seat--to keep my father awake. I had to listen to old country music stations, the only kind my father liked. And closer to Texas we listened to the Spanish stations. My father wasn’t a sleeper either, so he drove through the night most of the time. It worked out well for the sleepers, and I usually caught up on sleep once we got wherever we were going.
Late at night I watched my dad. If I saw his head start to drop I called out a warning to him, softly, so as not to awaken the others in the backseat. But, I need not have feared that; the rest of the family were sleepers.
I used to think, on those long trips, about how unfair life was. The sleepers had it made. They could sleep anywhere, and then when we got to wherever we were going they were ready for a good time. And I, the non-sleeper, would have to go right to bed and stay there a good, long time in order to get back to normal—whatever normal was. For a non-sleeper, it was hard to tell. My mother used to say with a deep sigh, “Oh, honey, if you would only SLEEP.” It’s not that I didn’t try. If closing eyes could do anything I would have slept many hours in the car. But nothing I did would help. I wasn’t a sleeper. And I used to feel that if I had been a sleeper, my life would have been entirely different.
Sometimes my father teased me by closing one eye—and I would say, “Dad, don’t fall asleep!” Then he would chuckle. The next time he did it I would be just as frightened; it was only when I grew much older that I realized he was teasing. I thought he was amused because he was an adult and found humor in odd things.
My favorite place in the car was in the very back. In the 1950s cars there were broad back window wells upon which a small child—and I was always undersized—could lay. Back there I could see the stars coming out and imagine I was in an entirely different world.
Back there it was formidably hot during a summer day. But in the winter, when the sun came through the back window it was warm and comfortable in the back window. And when it rained it was delicious.
In one of our cars, there was a place where the window opened close to the back well—or in the back window, and I could smell the night. Freshly cut alfalfa on the night air was a comforting smell wherever we were going. A home smell. A grandpa’s barn smell. I would close my eyes and be back home.
By the early 60s cars with large back window wells began to disappear. Or at least we never had one again. We got a station wagon, and the backseat would lay down at night. The sleepers would all go back there, and I would be in front again. Riding shotgun. Dad’s right-hand girl. I was part of the brotherhood of all-night radio station operators, truck drivers, and other night workers. Someone had to take care of the sleepers.


MIA In the back of a convertible--

It was in the summer of 1966. My brother who was just older than I, and who was usually my good friend, was there with me. There were several other people, including the new, very young and unmarried boys’ leader, and a boy from some other place in Oklahoma who was visiting his grandparents who lived in our ward. It was a small group; our ward was tiny.
“We’re going to Oklahoma City tonight,” the youth leader announced.
My brother’s eyes went wide. The leader had a new sports car, and he was hoping—.
My brother managed to ride in the front seat of the convertible all the way to Oklahoma City. I rode in the other car.
This was the 60s when a trip to Oklahoma City was an event. But I don’t remember the event. I do remember that the people who drove the other car, the one in which I had gone to Oklahoma City, had to return early, and it was decided that I should remain with my brother. So, the young unmarried youth leader, the visiting grandson, and I were left to ride back together.
I asked my brother if he would ride in back with me. And he shook his head. He wanted to ride in the front seat with the youth leader. That left me, and a boy, in the back.
A boy. My age. 13. Yikes! Riding in the back of a sports car, at night, going home from Oklahoma City. It was too much. The car was tiny, so in spite of myself I was too close to the strange boy for comfort.
My brother and the youth leader were in another world. A world of cars.
“How much power does it have?” I heard my brother ask. And the leader displayed the car’s abilities as we sped down the freeway home.
The boy turned. He was wearing braces. Oh my!!! A boy in braces. I had them myself. My face burned. Why did this have to happen—that we both had braces? Did this mean something? I was humiliated. I did not want to be in the backseat with this boy who had braces. In my imaginations I thought that someday I might ride in the backseat with someone. But he was always fuzzy, always dramatically handsome, unconcerned; he would not EVER be wearing braces. There was something vulnerable about a boy in braces. A boy in braces had lain back in a chair in some orthodontist’s office and endured hours of pain—without ever once whipping out his gun. He had handed over his horse, taken off his boots and submitted to the humiliation of braces; he couldn’t be my knight in shining armor or even in blue jeans.
I mumbled something just to be polite, but I didn’t want to be too polite. When I met “the one” he would have crooked teeth. When I met “the one” he would be driving, not sitting in the back seat. When I met the one he would ride up on a horse, and he would have crooked teeth, and he would pull me up to sit behind him, and off we would ride—into the sunset.
But, though he did wear braces, he was a decent boy. Decent enough to stop talking to me and look out at the sun setting in the West. Decent enough to let me enjoy the wind blowing through my hair all to myself. The leader was going too fast, but it had to be o.k.—I guessed; this was MIA.
The radio in the front was on; a gravelly voice was singing: “Hot Town Summer in the City, Back of My Neck Getting’ Dirt and Gritty—Cool Town Looking for a Kitty; Doesn’t Seem to be a Shadow in the City . . . “
And I was—in my mind—much, much older . . .
Driving in the front, beside my knight with crooked teeth—off across the Oklahoma prairie.


IN THE BACK OF GRANDPA’S PICKUP

We were in Idaho for a few weeks at the end of summer. Driving up into the mountains, we children and my dad were crowded into the back of grandpa’s pick-up. My grandmother and grandfather and mother were driving. Dad would always sit, sensibly, towards the back of the pick-up, but we children would stand above the cab—the wind blowing our hair, our mouths open—loving the speed. Grandpa asked us to look for jackrabbits, and when we saw one, we would pound on the roof of the cab. I didn’t like to see the jackrabbits’ being killed, but I loved to pound on the cab. Later, when I was old enough to ride in front—when I was alone with grandpa and grandma I felt the privilege of being able to ride in front. But I missed the back in the carefree days before my brothers left for missions and married—when we were young and ignorant and innocent—and the greatest joy in life was anticipating the fresh bread and cheese and milk and bottled fruit waiting for us at grandma’s table at the end of a long day in the mountains. As we got older, I remember that my older brother began to sit towards the back of the pick-up; it was no longer a thrill for him to stand, the wind pulling the skin of his face back—tight. I remember when I began to sit toward the back of the pick-up, when I realized that my grandparents were simple, rural people, and that some of my friends “back home” would laugh at them. I was troubled. Grandpa and grandma were beyond that surely. But I lay awake at night and wondered about it. That was the end of my innocence—or at least the beginning of the end. Later I remember writing letters to my grandparents from Japan—and how carefully I worded my sentences so they would understand what it was like in that faraway land. I went through years of feeling that I had outgrown my simple grandparents who worked very hard and spoke little and were satisfied with few material possessions. It was only when I became much, much older that I realized they were the wisest of all and wanted, greedily, to remember everything they had ever told me—wished I had not forgotten.

GETTING OUT OF THE BACKSEAT

Bobbi Jo called and asked me if I wanted to go to the college football game that night. I asked my mother, and she agreed. Bobbi Jo’s father worked with my dad at the college; she was a nice girl; we walked to school together every day. I was barely 14, new in town, new at school. New in the state of Nebraska.
My parents were going to go to the game also; they were taking my little sister. I walked down the street to Bobbi’s house; when I showed up her parents were getting ready to leave to go somewhere. Bobbi was on the phone; she put her hand over the receiver and called out in my direction, “I’m waiting to hear if some of the other girls want to go with us.” I assumed we would be walking. I sat down in the chair Mrs. Streumpler waved me towards; the Streumplers had a nicer house than ours; it was decorated.
Bobbi and I waited there a while at her house. “When are they coming?” I asked. “Oh, in a while”, she answered vaguely. A few minutes later a strange car drove up; there was a boy at the wheel.
I didn’t say anything, but I felt uncomfortable; I wasn’t supposed to ride around with boys.
I looked questioningly at Bobbi; she tossed her head, “These are just friends of mine”.
I did not want to over-react. It was strange enough being a Mormon—the only Mormon in my grade.
So I got into the backseat of the car. I was sitting next to Bobbi; there was safety in that.
We were going to the game at last. Once there I would be in neutral territory; I could either stay with Bobbi or go look for my parents.
We drove down to the end of the street, and where we should have turned right to go up to the stadium, we turned left. I looked at Bobbi. She didn’t look at me. I waited; maybe we were picking up some more kids. We were already crowded, but we could have packed in one or two more.
We did stop at someone else’s house—another girl came out and was pressed into the back. Another boy ended up in the front.
We drove around a while. I spoke up; “It’s almost time for the game.” Bobbi gave me a look, a tight-lipped look that said, “Don’t say anything more.”
So I didn’t. We drove across town and towards the edge of town. The driver stopped at the liquor store. My heart began to pound. What were we doing here? All the girls were silent, still. I looked at Bobbi, but she looked straight ahead.
The driver got out and went into the store, then came back out, “Our bootlegger’s not here yet; we’ll drive around a while longer”.
All the other kids were absolutely quiet.
Back across town, going farther and farther away from the stadium. It was dark now. We crossed one intersection, another.
The boy in the middle turned to the driver; “Do you think he’s there yet?” The girls in the back were motionless.
“Please let me out.”
It was a voice from somewhere out in the unexplored universe. It was I. I was holding onto the handle of the car door. I was unlocking the door. I was shaking all over.
Bobbi turned, “Be quiet!” she whispered fiercely.
“I want to go to the game.”
Someone else muttered, “She wants to go to the game.”
Bobbi narrowed her eyes and spoke in a voice no one else could hear, “If you leave now, I’ll never walk to school with you again.”
Bobbi was popular; she had introduced me to all the right kids.
I felt a little dizzy.
“Please?” my voice was soft as I looked towards the back of boy at the wheel.
The driver turned around and looked at me. Bobbi had said he was one of the best football players Assumption Academy (the Catholic high school in town) had. He was nice-looking.
“Sure”.
He stopped the car. I opened the door. It was late September and cold in the Nebraska night. The car drove on ahead a ways and then turned around, going back in the direction of the liquor store. I was in a bad part of town. I had a long walk ahead of me. But I was no longer shaking. I looked up at the stars; the sky had never looked so immense. I felt completely, completely alone. And so much at peace.


My mother IN the BACKSEAT

Coming from Texas to attend BYU my mother visited first with her brother and sister-in-law in Idaho. They lived in the same ward as my dad-—who had just returned from Japan after World War II.
Dad had Japanese silk. It was WHITE Japanese silk given to him by a silk factory owner whom he had helped in Japan. And some of the girls in the ward were giddy about him. My dad was not bad looking—so my mother said. And my mother learned from some other girls in the ward that my father intended to have his wife wear that silk to get married.
My mother was very aware of her own worth. She despised girls who chased men. And when she heard about the silk she determined never to let anyone catch her giving my father a second glance—
My mother was to have caught a bus to get to Salt Lake where her sister would drive her the rest of the way to BYU. But when my father and his friend heard about that, they invited her to ride to BYU with them.
In the backseat.
When my father and his friend stopped in Salt Lake to get gasoline, my mother got out and left her handbag in the back.
My father saw an opportunity.
He took the handbag, bought a cigar and a can opener with a beer label on it, and put them back into the bag.
When they dropped my mother off at her sister’s house my father showed great concern about the purse having been left.
“Perhaps someone took money out of it,” he told her, a worried look on his face.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine; the purse was there when I got back to the car”, my mother said, eager to hurry away.
“Oh, please, I would feel so terrible if you lost anything”, my father urged.
So my mother opened the purse.
My father’s friend laughed. My aunt smiled. My mother first blushed with humiliation, then was indignant.
Slamming the door on my father and his friend she told her sister, “If I never see that young man again it will be fine with me!”
But that didn’t happen.


In Front of the Congregation

My mother showed me how to lead the singing in my fifteenth year. Four four time was down on the first beat of the measure, across, over, and up at a slant—then do it all over again. Three four was a triangle with a loop in the lower left-hand (from the conductor’s point of view) corner—you sort of swayed the upward line a little. Two two time could be used, according to Susan, who was our branch pianist, for six eight; it was easier for the pianist that way. And then of course two two was used for two two time and two four time—a very efficient pattern!
I practiced in front of the mirror. I practiced in front of my family. I practiced in my mind at school, pounding out the rhythm to various hymns with my teeth. As I walked to school I walked to certain beats, seeing the pattern before me in the air.
I began in Sunday School—leading my mother and sister in song. A few weeks later, because our branch was desperate and my mother didn’t want to lead the singing, I started in Sacrament meeting. There they were—mom and my sister Linda in the congregation, sober and ready to be led. As usual, my brothers were doing the sacrament, the branch president and my dad, his counselor, were on the stand behind me. The branch president’s wife had always been in the congregation before, but she had been sick and in the hospital for several weeks, so there were my mother and sister. Susan’s husband was a member, but he didn’t attend church. Sister Farrar, an older sister in the branch, had been visiting out of town for some time.
Here I was, leading my mother and sister—again. I led them at home, I led them in Sunday School, and I led them in Sacrament meeting—backed by my coterie of priesthood holders—and flanked by Susan at the piano. It was too much; I was only 14. And I tended to see bizarre humor in everything. I had only barely made it through singing at a funeral, and I feared the time would come when I would get the giggles in the middle of a song. I struggled with giggles at school, and now I battled at church.
I went home and prayed. “Please, Lord, help me; I can’t keep wanting to giggle while I lead the singing.”
The next week I began to raise my hand, waiting to beat the upward stroke. I looked over at Susan for the song to begin. There was a glint of amusement in her eyes. And I laughed. My father, my brothers, the branch president, my mother, and my sister all waited.
It was over almost before it started. I had laughed in church; the forbidden fruit was gone.
My prayers were answered. I raised my hand.

BABY IN THE BACK

My mother didn’t have the heart to waken me. Less than a year old I didn’t nap well. So she left me where I had fallen asleep in the backseat, the car parked in the shade of a giant poplar that bordered my parents’ vegetable plot in my grandpa’s back pasture. My mother was glad not to have to worry about keeping me out of the irrigation ditch. She hadn’t wanted to ask grandma to tend me again; after all she tended me every week when she taught primary.
She and my two older brothers, old enough to stay out of the irrigation ditch, weeded and watered.
Less than an hour later, the car was in full sun, but my mother had just a little more to weed, and was intent on her work.
A half-mile away my grandma was doing her breakfast dishes, but she kept thinking about the back pasture. Would her daughter-in-law and the children be down there working today? It was a beautiful, clear, summer day, and it would be hot later. Grandma went to the back door and looked towards the pasture. She could see my parents’ car.
Back at the kitchen sink she had an urgent feeling that she should walk down to the garden. She pushed it away; she didn’t want her daughter-in-law to think she was interfering. After all, this was her first garden, and she was proud of it. If grandma, a seasoned gardener, showed up, she might feel like she was being supervised.
The feeling came to grandma again—“Go to the pasture”.
Grandma began walking down the road, and as she went the feeling came more strongly. She began to hurry—and by the time she reached the car she was striding.
She saw that only the boys were working alongside my mother.
Where was the baby?
By the time grandma reached the car I was struggling to breathe.
When my mother turned around and saw my grandmother there she realized with horror what had happened. The sun on the window of the car and the baby gasping for breath. She ran to my grandmother and grabbed me out of her arms.
“How did you know? Oh, how did you know to come?” my mother cried.
But my mother did know; grandma had been listening.


FRONT SEAT RIDERS WHO CARED ABOUT ME WHILE I WAS IN THE BACKSEAT

Sister Berry was my Beehive teacher. My mother did not—quite—approve of her. She rode horses and took her champions to shows around the state. The young people in our ward earned money by helping out at the horse shows. I remember Sister Berry standing around in a circle of judges at some far-flung horse show—watching intently as a young girl dressed in English riding clothes took a thoroughbred with a braided tail over the course to the sound of “Hi lily, hi lily, hi lo” on a pipe organ. When she was put in charge of the ward Christmas program she painted an enormous mural of wicked Nephites reveling on the eve of Christ’s birth. My mother thought it was slightly indecent. She didn’t think the immodest clothing was necessary. I can still see Sister Berry sitting, head up, a look of glory on her face when someone played a musical number—on a violin or piano, anything, I believe—in Sacrament meeting. Face up, a faraway look in her eyes, completely devoted to the beauty of the sound. My mother always sat in church looking anything but rapt—glad, probably, just for an opportunity to sit unoccupied for a while. My mother—though a good, gentle soul—seemed very ordinary to me. I loved Sister Berry. I followed her around like a puppy. I hung on her every word. And I suspect now that I caused my mother some heartache with my hero worship. My mother had to work in the agronomy labs to help my father through school—because the promised fellowship that had lured my family from Idaho to Oklahoma had been inexplicably suspended after one year of graduate school. Sister Berry’s husband was a millionaire. Our ward went to pick pecans on the Berry estate. The Berrys helped out when the ward needed money. Our old church building had “The Glory of God is Intelligence” carved into stone over the lintel of the front door—because the Berrys had paid to have it placed there.
There was a new girl in school. She was from the wrong side of the tracks. I was from the right side, though my family lived on the countryside of campus in World War II army barracks made over into student housing. Though my parents slept in our living room, and our bathroom had no tub and only a rusting shower. Though when you turned the lights on at night in the kitchen you could see the roaches scurrying back to their homes, away from the light. Though my brothers and I cleaned the church every Saturday; I had the basement—full of dying crickets—I hated the crickets and the way they had of leaping up into your face as you swept them up terrified me—to myself to clean, while my brothers took the more prestigious main floor with the chapel and the cultural hall. The money we earned went to help our parents buy food.
I was in the top classes. Even in my inexpensive dresses, I was proud. Proud to have a father getting a Ph.D. Proud to be a Mormon. Proud to be smart. Proud to have an accent no one could identify. “You’re from Iowa, you say?” No one knew where Idaho was, and that made me feel proud as well. I took a Velveeta cheese and white bread sandwich to school every day and ate by myself in the lunchroom. The other students in my class, the top class academically, all paid for lunches—hamburgers and fries. I ate my one lone sandwich there apart from all the others, because those who brought lunches were not allowed to go into the other part of the cafeteria. In the same room with me—but on the other end were two other groups of students, sitting as far away from each other as possible. The black students, a large group, sat on one end of the lunchroom. The white students who could not afford the school lunches—“poor white trash” the black kids called them—sat on the other. I had a table to myself.
I saw a new girl in the “poor white trash” section one day—probably because she had gotten to know some of the neighborhood youth—and probably because she was in one of the lower classes, and when she showed up at church I was not pleased. She was gentle in spirit, shabby in clothing and willing to be my friend. But I didn’t like it. How could I possibly associate with a girl who sat with the “poor white trash”? I was poor enough and friendless enough as it was.
Worst of all, she was a new member—from another part of Oklahoma; her grandma was a long-time member.
I went to school. I saw her there, and I avoided her. At church I gave her an obligatory greeting, and after a while she never came again.
I went to MIA (that’s what we called it in the 60s) one night soon after that eager to see my beloved Sister Berry. I was usually the only one in her class; several times the strange, new young woman had come and competed with me for Sister Berry’s attentions, but tonight I had Sister Berry to myself.
And that was always a pleasure. But this night she looked pointedly at me and spoke slowly. “Celia, we must always be kind to those who have less than we do. Always. It doesn’t matter what the world thinks of you for doing it; do you understand me?” I did understand her, and the pain I felt choked me. Sister Berry, my dearest Sister Berry, had suspected my snubbing of the new girl. I didn’t realize until years later how suitable it was that she, of all people, should teach me that lesson. I think of Sister Berry whenever I meet someone different, or dirty, or shabbily dressed--


DATING AND THE BACKSEAT

I had wanted to have a date. I had gone so far as to call Bruce Holcomb the beginning of my junior year and invite him to the Sadie Hawkins’ dance. He wasn’t a member, of course, but the whole school knew that he didn’t drink; he had been laughed at for not drinking. No one knew for sure why Bruce didn’t drink, but school gossip said that his father was a hopeless alcoholic. I liked Bruce. He was clean-cut-looking with a scholarly appearance, slightly pale, freckled; there was a sweetness about him none of the other boys had. He was intelligent; he wanted to do something with his life. Bruce turned me down, and I was secretly relieved; I had made a pledge never to date a nonmember. But he said he would have gone with me if a sophomore had not first asked him; he told me her name. He sounded disappointed; I felt almost guilty. So I didn’t date at 16. And by the end of the year Bruce was married to the little sophomore, and there was a baby coming.
I didn’t stay in high school.
A year later in college there were still no members around to date. Not to say that the year had no fun in it, but I knew that I was breaking a rule of some kind. If I didn’t date in my teenage years I would certainly have no hope of ever marrying, and I wanted to get married. It was what every Mormon girl wanted.
At the end of my first year of college, not quite 18 and planning to spend the summer in Provo with the Hemenways my mother told me about Susan’s little brother. Susan was our branch’s pianist; her brother, from Berkeley, had attended BYU that year and was coming out to Nebraska with his parents to visit her little family. He was just a year older than I. And would I go out with him? A date. I panicked. What would I do on a date? Susan smiled and said that Stephen would call me when he got there. He did. It was strange to talk with a Mormon boy on the phone. I decided after the first few moments that it wasn’t as wonderful as I had been told. This was just a boy—
He wanted to go swimming. Go swimming? On a date? With me? Me in a swimming suit with a strange Mormon boy from California who had already been to BYU for a year? I hesitated--noticeably. Who goes swimming on a first date? Who did this guy think I was? He was also silent for a long time. I was beginning to hope he would give it all up—; I didn’t need the date. Maybe I didn’t even need to get married someday. He said, “Just a minute” and put his hand over the phone; there was muffled conversation in the background. He came back on again, “My parents want to see Mt. Rushmore; would you like to go up with us?” My heart sank again. First he was going to expect me to show up—on a first date—in a swimming suit. I had barely escaped that. That failing, I was expected to drive 120 miles in the same car with this male youth I did NOT know—though there was some comfort in knowing his parents would be there. I didn’t want to be in a car with this guy and his parents, but I knew I had to save face. I had murmured about dating for two years. I had to show some backbone.
“O.K”. I agreed. Mt. Rushmore. Two hours of driving with total strangers. I found it difficult to eat breakfast that morning. But I acted brave in front of my parents and little sister. Stephen and his parents came to pick me up, and they were nice, very prudent sorts of people. She wore sensible shoes. He drove carefully. Stephen had a nice smile; he must have had braces. He was what any other girl would have considered dangerously good-looking. He was perfect. In fact, there were no flaws in him at all—
I had to sit in the backseat with Stephen. But it was a large backseat, so I sat tight up against my corner—and he was decent about staying in his own corner. It was a long drive. His parents looked oddly comfortable in the front seat, as though it were every day they went driving 120 miles one way in a region unfamiliar to them with a strange girl in the backseat. I had wet palms. I had a permanent lump in my throat. But Mt. Rushmore showed up right on schedule and we got out. I felt relieved out in the open air. Mt. Rushmore was a safe place--familiar. It was raining, and Stephen wanted to hike around. His mother wanted to stay in the car.
“Don’t get your feet wet,” she called to him as he walked swiftly away—with me trying to stay about three feet off to the side of him and walking even more swiftly. Don’t get your feet wet! He was almost 19 years old. In just a few months he would be in Europe serving an LDS mission, and his mother was worried that he would get wet feet. I was amazed that he didn’t snarl at her or something, but he behaved very respectfully about it. We looked at the four presidents—; I had seen them many times. We jumped from bench to bench in the amphitheater. He was singing “Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head—“ And then, in a very short time, we were back in the car, driving home.
Back with my family, I felt like a veteran. I had been on a date. I deserved a metal. There had been no romance. There could be no romance in wet feet or in going with the parents of my date. And I had found it difficult to look at him—in all his perfection. But I had survived. And I felt the triumph of it. And when I went to sleep that night I was happy; I would be able to eat breakfast in the morning.

AT THE BACK OF THE CLASS—AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PLAYGROUND

I had seen my best friend standing behind the school—crying. I had gone up to him and asked him why he wasn’t playing. He was seven years old. I was seven years old.
“Because I’m adopted,” he answered.
“That shouldn’t keep you from playing,” I said matter-of-factly.
“A kid told me that my parents aren’t my real parents,” he continued stubbornly.
I knew Lynn’s parents. They were very real. His mother was a good friend of my mother; she was a smart lady with a nose who had a keen sense of humor and a fascinating voice. His father worked with my dad at the high school; they taught high school biology together. His father had a gold tooth that glinted, and he was always smiling. I knew his mother was real, because I had heard her tell Lynn that he needed to wash his mouth out with soap after we had been found playing in the irrigation ditch in our underpants, packing wet mud down inside of them. We had been only five years old then. I knew his father was real, because I had heard him laugh. And I knew Lynn was adopted. But I knew he was real. I had touched him; he was definitely real. But he was crying, and he wouldn’t play with me.
I saw the Japanese boy hiding behind the same corner of the same building. I had seen him at the drinking fountain; someone had pushed him. I loved the shape of his eyes; I loved the way his hair stood up in bristles on his head. I loved the creamy brown of his skin. I wanted to get to know him, but when I walked towards him, he turned away.
I had seen Aurora, not behind the building, but standing apart, watching the other children play at recess. I had gone towards her, and she hadn’t turned away. She came from a large family, originally from Mexico. I like the clipped way she spoke English—softening consonants I didn’t soften. I liked the way her lips curled a little upward. I liked her huge, brown, round eyes. I wanted to hear her speak. My mother had taught me some Spanish; I was proud that my mother had been born and raised in the border country between Texas and New Mexico—right next to Mexico. I liked to hear my mother speak Spanish. I loved my mother’s tamales, her enchiladas, loved nothing more than the rich smell of beans on the stove at the end of a winter afternoon.
I loved the long, hot drive to Texas to see my grandparents who lived there. I was fascinated by the adobe houses, by the little brown children playing in bare dirt yards. The air was hotter there. The sun was brighter there.
I loved Aurora. Aurora had an older sister who was married. Aurora had a niece or a nephew or both. Aurora had a tiny house full of brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews. Aurora’s parents were migrant workers.
Aurora told me that her name meant “the dawn”.
The dawn. I would say it over to myself. The dawn.
First Melinda said she couldn’t play with me anymore. Her mom and dad told her so. I asked her why—and she said, “Because of Aurora”.
It didn’t make sense. I walked home from school that night, scuffing my shoes with stones. What did Aurora have to do with Melinda’s parents?
It wasn’t too long after that I had a misunderstanding with the other new girl in my class. She had the prettiest clothes. She had the readiest answers. She was quickly the teacher’s favorite. She had favored me—little, freckled me with the crooked teeth and the messy hair--for a while. Then one night when my father came home from trying to home teach her family I heard him say to my mother, “Brother Peterman turned the lights off and closed the curtains when we went to the door.” And the next day I asked Denise why her dad wouldn’t let my dad into their house. Denise turned pale. The next day she came to me and said, “My parents were NOT home; your dad just thought they were home. He just said they turned the lights out and shut the curtains!” It was a terrible dilemma. I knew my father wouldn’t lie.
At recess one of the larger girls who wanted to be friends with Denise came up and asked me if I wanted to fight. I asked her why, and she said, “Because you lied, and your father lied”. After a while all the other girls came up, every girl in the class, everyone but Aurora—who was not at school that day and would never be there again. And Denise had stood off by herself, a curious light in her eyes, while the other girl, so much bigger than I, grabbed me and threw me down on the pavement of the schoolyard.
She pushed my head against the cement with a jolt that made me see stars. The girls cried, “Liar! Liar! Liar!”
My eyes blurred. My father wouldn’t lie. My head hurt; I closed my eyes waiting for the next jolt.
I heard a voice from across the schoolyard; it was the teacher, breaking up the fight—
“Girls! Girls! What is going on here?” Her voice sounded urgent. The girls scattered. She scolded, “What are you doing?”
I saw one or two of their faces from my place on the ground. They looked ashamed and frightened.
“Back into the school room—now!” the teacher sounded angry.
She came over to me and helped me up, her brow furrowed.
“What is happening here?” she asked.
I shook my head.
All I could think of was that they hated me. And I didn’t want to be there anymore. I hated school. I hated Idaho. Soon after that my parents told me we were moving to Oklahoma. I was ready to go.


BARNS DON’T TRAVEL, AND MILKING STOOLS DON’T COUNT AS BACKSEATS

My grandparents in Idaho were the beginning of my family, as I know it, parents to my father. I have a lot of anecdotal stories about my grandparents, thing my parents told me my grandparents said or did; the things I remember are more profound. The incident of a summer sometime in the late 50s—is only one example, and it was a pivotal event in my life.
I had been left alone of all my immediate family to spend time with grandpa and grandma. It was a privilege to stay alone with grandpa and grandma. I had the whole farm to myself; I had my grandparents’ complete attention. I was the grown-up child this time, since usually only the older grandchildren got to stay alone with grandpa and grandma. So when an aunt and uncle—with their spouses—and a few younger cousins came to stay for a day or so I felt my age and maturity in a new, exciting way. Always before I had been one of the younger children, following my older brothers around. But this time I could be a leader in play.
In the late afternoon of one day we went for a walk, sponsored by the grown-ups. I went along naturally, because there were children in tow—, here was a chance for me to display my superior wisdom, and understanding about walks and everything walks entailed. My grandparents were busy back at the farm, grandpa in the barn, grandma in the kitchen. We were heading out into the sagebrush back of grandpa’s farm, along “the bench” as my grandpa called it. There was a cart track there—faint marks in the sandy desert where wagons had once gone. It was this, I supposed, we were walking to see. Or maybe my uncles and aunts just felt cooped up in the house and wanted some fresh air. The little children, me in the middle of them, feeling queenly, romped out in front, running back and forth, here and there, getting, with every few minutes, a little farther ahead of the adults. After a time, I heard clapping and shouting behind me. I turned, laughing; they were clapping for us—
Shouting, they were wondering which of us could run fastest; I ran; I could run fast; I would show them.
And then suddenly one of the grown-ups came running up and, grabbing some of the laughing children up, began spanking them, each in turn. My laughter turned to confusion, then to consternation. Where had the cheering gone? What had gone awry? I didn’t have the best hearing, I knew—having lost some of it with measles; it was a problem for me, but I had thought the shouting was all of a happy sort—
The same grown-up turned fiercely to me; “Didn’t you hear us shouting and calling?”
I must have been dumb, for I just stood there. How could I tell this angry adult that I thought they had been cheering us on? I felt stupid and lost.
“There are snakes here; you in your mad running about could have gotten my children killed!”
The other adults came running up, scolding their children. What had begun as a pleasant walk had turned into a nightmare—for me. The children, crying around me, walked back with their parents. I followed numbly.
Just behind the corner of the house, I, walking after a dazed fashion, the words of rebuke still ringing in my ears, saw the same person speaking to two of the oldest children; they were the girl cousins closest to me in age.
Pointing at me the words were clear, “Don’t ever play with her again; she is a bad influence”.
I turned and ran—wanting to go back into the house, wanting the comfort of that place which had always been a haven for me. But I knew the rest of the parents would be in there, reporting my misdeeds, if such they had been, for I was still in such a state of confusion, to my grandmother—the grandmother who had always believed me, always loved me, always been there for me.
It was too much for me. Away from the yard and across the barnyard path to the barn I fled. There was grandpa, milking the cows. The barn was a simple log building, rather tumbling down in appearance, which my grandpa kept scrupulously clean. His cows were healthy, always clean—, and content. He kept one milking machine, an ancient one, and a three-legged stool for hand milking. He was busy at the milking, but he took time to nod at me as I came through the door. I sat at my usual place over on a ledge off to the side of where the cows were milked. There, not far from me, were the mangers where the cats romped, and the cows chewed the cud with sweet hay.
Grandpa was always there with a shovel to clean up any mess made by one of his cows—and a pitchfork nearby was used to spread fresh straw beneath their hooves.
The barn smelled sweet—with hay, with new milk, and even with the fresh manure grandpa kept so carefully cleaned up.
I couldn’t show grandpa that I was upset. I had to be brave—and I knew that if I tried to speak I would begin to cry. So I just sat there, and after a while grandpa started to talk to me about the cows. He was telling me which cow had which problem, talking to me about each one’s individual personality. One could only be hand-milked; she was too sensitive for the mechanical milking machine. Another had to be hobbled. Each cow had a name; they were big, beautiful Holsteins. Sometimes grandpa let me help him milk, but today he just talked to me. And after a while I began to talk, careful at first. Grandpa found out that I had been with my uncles, aunts, and cousins; I dared tell him no more. He finished up the milking, pouring the milk into the cans and walking across the barnyard with a can in each hand with me beside him, we returned to the house. He came to the door, and where he usually entered he called out to my grandmother.
She came to the back porch.
Grandpa explained, “Grandma, this girl needs to spend some time with you—just with you”. He emphasized the “just”.
My grandma looked intently at my grandfather. Only a look, no words, was exchanged between them. He left the milk on the back porch and turned, going back to work somewhere.
Grandma studied me, wiping her hands on her apron.
Working alone with grandma was a privilege, something a person had to earn. Picking strawberries was a privilege.
“Would you like to help me pick strawberries for supper, Celia?” she asked me at last.
Would I?
I never told my grandparents anything of what happened on that walk. I never told them of the terrible talking-to one of the adults had given me—through my two cousins. But I noticed that until my uncles and aunts and cousins left my grandparents kept me close by them, watching over me. The mystery to me then was how they ever understood enough of what had happened to guard me so closely. How had they communicated—without words—so much to each other?
I was not a perfect child. I was impulsive. I made many mistakes. But I always meant to be good—.
If I was ever misunderstood by any of the adults in my life, which I am sure happened a lot—even by those who were incapable of being intentionally unkind to me—my own parents, it was never by my grandparents. They are gone now—long gone. The home, which was dearer to me than any home could ever be, has been long boarded up. The little log barn which held such sweet smells of hay and the mewing of new kittens and the pain of a little girl and the wise understanding of a sympathetic grandfather—is gone.
I miss them. The mystery to me now is how—in a world so filled with imperfect people--I ever could have had such perfect grandparents.


NEBRASKA CZECHS AND MARRIAGE—BEHIND THE WHEEL AT LAST

I loved my branch president. He was a quiet man. He spoke softly and had a funny chuckle. He was tall, slender, and graying. He was Czech. One of the Nebraska Czechs. To me a girl in Nebraska, Nebraska Czechs were exotic—like a pheasant mixed in with the chickens.
Being of mostly British ancestry myself, to think that there was an entire group of people from an area in Central Europe who had immigrated long ago to my state—and who still, some of the old ones, spoke the Czech language, was something romantic.
I attended a funeral held at our church for a cousin of President Masek. The people looked Slavic to me. They were different. I loved different people, just as I had loved the black girl in my PE class. Just as I had loved Aurora. I knew a little about the Czech Brethren, an ancient Czech Christian church, the members of which had been persecuted and killed, and how some of the Czech immigrants, those who were dissatisfied with the Catholic Church, became members of other churches out of reverence for the past.
Wow!
It was one Sunday when President Masek was speaking that I decided I wanted to marry a Czech from Nebraska. I told my mother that. She was amused. There were no Mormon boys in Nebraska—much less Czechs. Rare was the non-Catholic Czech. Even the branch president’s sons were not quite all Czech, since Sister Masek was French. The branch president’s sons were much older than I was and were both married anyway, living happily away from Nebraska.
But I dreamed of my faraway Czech lover—the Mormon boy from Nebraska.
When I met a young man with a Czech surname in San Antonio who had joined the Church after studying to be a Catholic Priest, I quickly learned that he was not “the one”. He had proposed to me after our first date—which I felt was quite rash, and had frightened me with his intensity. Besides, he was not from Nebraska; he was from a Czech community in South Texas.
There was a young man returning from a mission in Europe whose surname was also Czech. He was nice-looking; he was aloof; he had a girlfriend at BYU and was married while I was in Japan on my own mission. But he hadn’t been from Nebraska either.
In Provo after my mission, I felt jaded. I was almost 25 years old. I had had a few, very few, completely unsatisfactory dates. This was a situation even worse than what I feared would happen to me in Nebraska—that I would not have a date before I was 18.
Perhaps I had been right back then. Perhaps the cure was worse than the ailment.
One Friday night I told a girlfriend, “I won’t marry someone who isn’t from Nebraska, and he has to be at least part Czech”.
Silly of me. I knew in my heart that it didn’t matter where a person came from; that it mattered even less what ethnic group he or she was a part of. And here I was, stranded in Provo, Utah--of all places--announcing that I would only marry a Czech from Nebraska.
A few weeks later I took a plate of cookies to a young man next door who had done something kind for me. As I was talking to him I heard a pick-up pull up outside, and in walked a tall, blonde young man—wearing a white shirt and tie. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He smiled. He had crooked teeth. He even had a crooked smile. His horse might have been old and had splayed hooves and a swayback, but this one had to have a horse--somewhere. He told me his name—he said it was Czech. He said he was from Nebraska.
I married him.

DANGER IN THE BACKSEAT

We were spending New Years’ Eve with some good friends, Edie and John Fox—whose father was a professor at the college.
We were sitting at the Fox’s kitchen table listening to KOMA—the pop music station out of Oklahoma City—, which we received up in Nebraska, to our delight.
Mrs. Fox had made all sorts of treats—and there were soft drinks.
A few minutes after we came, Edie got up and left; a young man had come by for her.
“I’ll be back,” she said, “I won’t be gone long”.
She was gone about an hour, during which time we listened to the countdown for the top songs of 1966.
My brothers were there; John—Edie’s brother, who was a blonde Finnish god, was there.
I loved John. John had once told my brother that he would be a Mormon if his parents would let him.
John and Edie took us tobogganing out by King’s Canyon. They had a cabin there—
We had a lot of fun driving around in the Fox’s old International Scout.
When Edie came back, her eyes were very bright.
She pulled at me; “You have to see something. You have to!”
She was talking loudly; her cheeks were flushed.
We all got in the scout—I in my usual place in the back, and Edie sped—I was feeling uncomfortable about how fast she was driving--to the edge of town and beyond.
She drove up on a lonely country road next to a car—
Inside I could see people; I saw a beer can.
“There!” she said.
It was the branch president’s younger daughter.
I felt sick, very sick.
“There is your good Mormon girl!” she screeched.
By the time we got back to Foxes I knew that Edie had also been drinking. I didn’t stop loving Edie; she came to my one and only track meet when no one else bothered. She was always kind to me.
When my husband and I drove through my old town twenty years later with our son we stopped and went to church and stayed with the Maseks.
Annette had moved away years earlier. She was married, Sister Masek said. She was active in the church; she and her husband had gone to the temple.
And what had happened to Edie? I don’t know.
I know that John became a lawyer; he got married and had two children; he died very young of a drug overdose.
Who was right?
I was mad at Annette at the time. I felt that she let me down. But twenty years later I thought of the woman, taken in sin—and how Jesus said, “He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone”.

SEGREGATED BACKSEATS

She was in my PE class. She was small and black. I was small and white. We were both wimps. She was the last one to be chosen by her side. I was the last one to be chosen by mine.
We started standing together in the line from which we would not be chosen. We started smiling at each other.
One day I spoke to her. She spoke back.
One day she said, “I can’t be your friend”.
I said, “Why?”
She motioned with her eyes to a group of large, black girls—the stars of our PE class, standing on the other side of the gym.
“They”, she looked frightened, “won’t let me”.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“I don’t either,” she said.
So we weren’t friends. But we always smiled at each other when we passed. Sometime when the large, black girls were near, she would put her head down, but I knew she was smiling.
I wonder what became of her.

IN SOMEONE ELSE’S BACKSEAT

The black youth in our junior high put on assemblies where they sang gospel songs and danced.
“You been dancin’ on the ballroom floor, sinna’—you’d better get right . . .”

My brother and I would dance at home—he was good. He could dance like a black kid, twisting himself around; he could sing like them too. My brother had the oriental eyes in our family . . .
I would sing too. I wanted to know more gospel songs—wanted to sing them out loud and clear, wanted to be up on the stage with the black kids.

“I went to my job with my mind, yes, I did, standing on Jesus, whooaaaa, I went to the job with my mind, yes, I did, standing on Jesus—
Hallelu, hallelu-u-u-u-u lu—uuu-yah!”

I tried to dance, but I couldn’t.
When I sang it sounded like a Grand Ole Oprey singer with a cold.

Only my little sister could sing like Mahalya Jackson or Lena Horn or Ella Fitzgerald—

“Ain’t misbehavin’—I’m savin’ my love for you, believe me!”

Then, one day, years later, after I was grown up and married, I stood at the sink with grandma—the grandma, the one who had loved me, supported me, always been there for me. The one everyone in my family respected—in spite of themselves.
Grandma said, quietly and simple, “Our ancestors are black-Irish.”
I didn’t say anything back; grandma was hard to say things back to.
Then she said it again, “Black Irish”.
Black Irish.
I looked at grandma. The chicken soup with homemade noodles grandma. The perfect Thanksgiving dinners grandma. The grandma of the strawberry jam. She was getting old, but she was still very tall. Her skin was very olive. Her hair was curly—had been black when she was young; it was white now. She had a large nose with a hook in it. Could she be?
She only said it once. A few years later she was in a nursing home—hopelessly victim to Alzheimer’s disease; a light had gone out of my life.
At grandma’s funeral one of my cousins flew out from the East Coast.
He was showing us a picture of his newest baby. He, his wife, and his two older children are all blondes.
“Look at my black baby”, he said, laughing, showing us a picture of his dark-complexioned, black-haired newborn. We all laughed; it had been a laughing funeral; we were all so glad grandma had been set free.
I didn’t say anything.
First I tried to tell my dad, “I’m sure that’s not what grandma meant,” he said.
I told my brother who had jive in his soul—“I don’t believe it,” he said.
I told my blonde stake president brother in California who had black people in his stake.
“It would be funny,” he said; “I’d be glad if it were true”.
I told my sister who does Mahalya Jackson impersonations, “I think black-Irish means something else,” she said.
I had read—somewhere, but, of course, I could never find the article again, that the Irish government had imported mercenaries from many exotic areas to help them fight against the English in the late 1600s. Along with ronin—unemployed samurai from Japan’s terrible civil wars, there had been some black slaves—from warrior tribes in Africa—imported from the Caribbean.
So what do I think? I think it would be Someone’s idea of a good joke. And if I found out it were true, I would laugh!


WARNINGS ABOUT BACKSEATS
I was walking down the corridor of the hospital beside my friend JoAnn—who was in labor and moving heavily alongside me.
I was sorry for her.
JoAnn, who usually always smiled, was not smiling. And except for me, she was alone, waiting for her husband to come.
I couldn’t understand out why he wouldn’t come to the hospital to be with his wife, but I suspected it was a troubled marriage.
I was there for hours before JoAnn’s mother-in-law came to be with her.
It was hard. I was only 17. There were things happening here that went over my head.
I was a little amazed that my mother had let me go to be with JoAnn. My mother didn’t quite approve of my friendship with JoAnn, but, after all, JoAnn was LDS, and she needed friends.
I had first met her at church. Then when she didn’t show up one Sunday, my father and mother, who had been assigned to be her home teachers, stopped by with me to visit her at her apartment. She had a young man there with her. It didn’t look good.
It wasn’t long after that she married him, and it was obvious soon after—why. He was Catholic, from Nebraska, JoAnn was Mormon, from Utah.
I used to go visit her after my classes. She was lonely. Her husband was never home. They lived in a tiny apartment in a basement near campus.
She liked to talk about BYU. I loved to hear about this exotic place in Utah around which so many of my hoped-for future dreams centered.
“Don’t date just anyone,” she would tell me.
Then she would show me how to put on make-up. JoAnn was a beautiful woman; I was not. But she showed me how to do everything—the right way.
“I fell in love with a guy at BYU. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. Then I found out he was already married. His wife was pregnant; I was humiliated. Be careful, Celia,” JoAnn said.
That happened at BYU—the magical place where Mormons went to school. I was shocked, but I trusted JoAnn to tell the truth.
“Be selective about the people you hang out with,” she warned another time. “I cared too much about having friends; I went skiing with some good-time kids. We started playing with a ouija board—a guy I really cared about, who was a really mature and spiritual guy, found out about it—I knew he was the one I supposed to marry, but I wasn’t ready for him. He married someone else. Satan is real; he wants to destroy us.”
She taught me to make Spanish rice with meatballs—
I set the table for her little supper with her husband and then waited until well after he was supposed to come home, but he usually didn’t come.
“Don’t marry a nonmember,” JoAnn said another time as I sat in her little apartment with her. Her baby was soon to be born.
JoAnn had a beautiful baby girl—
Several years later when I was in Provo, I met someone from JoAnn’s hometown. She told me JoAnn was divorced; she had come home to be with her parents, bringing her baby with her.
By then I had realized the gift JoAnn had given me. She could have made her mistakes sound glamorous; she could have excused herself and not warned me, but she didn’t.
Thank you, JoAnn.

A SEAT BY THE WINDOW IN THE AIR

LeGrand Richards came to visit our district in the Black Hills. He was there for a conference on the Saturday before the Sunday I left to fly out to Utah—to leave Nebraska for what I did not yet know was forever.
On Saturday we drove up and sat in the amphitheater at Mt. Rushmore, where I had walked the previous week with Susan’s brother—my first date.
Elder Richards told us to keep ourselves morally clean. He said he was glad there was not some little old lady who was sitting in the back of a church somewhere smirking and thinking, as he spoke, “Ah ha, but you should have known him when he was a youth!” He told us not to “lick the butter off the bread” in our dating. We drove home—our usual two-hour drive—after the meeting that night—my last night at home.
The next morning we got up early to hear him speak for the Sunday conference and drove back up to the Black Hills. Susan’s brother and his parents were there; he was leaving to fly back to Provo for summer school. We just happened to have the same flight; I think it was Susan’s idea that somehow I needed someone along to protect me.
My parents took Stephen and me to the airport. There I said good-bye to my father, my mother, and my little sister in front of Stephen Ricks. I felt excited about my summer with friends in Provo, but I was also worried about leaving home.
Just as we prepared to board the plane I saw our mission president, his daughter and Elder Richards coming towards us. Elder Richards was also flying back to Salt Lake! He would be on our flight! The mission president had asked his daughter to help Elder Richards, who was very old and had a hard time walking get on and off the plane where his daughter in Salt Lake would meet him.
I could think of nothing but that I wanted to be near Elder Richards. I held my breath as I found my seat—Stephen and I were right across the aisle from Elder Richards and Olivia, the mission president’s daughter—who was a friend of my brother.
I asked Stephen if I might trade places with him so that I could hear Elder Richards speak. And he was kind enough to let me. But Elder Richards had little to say before he fell into a peaceful slumber. Still, I hung on his every word. I had felt trepidation about my first flight, but seeing an apostle sleeping there on the plane beside me took away my fear; God would let nothing happen to this airplane! Once more the ever patient Stephen traded places back with me so that I could look out the window.
The enormous, cottony clouds through which we flew took my breath away.
“Oh! It’s so fantastic up here!” I whispered.
Stephen smiled, “You are so childlike”.
“No one could ever get over the wonder of this!” I said, meaning it.
“Well, I have”, he answered. He was as sophisticated and bored as someone from California would be during a visit to Nebraska. But he seemed to be amused by my excitement.
I turned back to the window and was lost in the beauty of it, exclaiming now and again about some new visual wonder.
My flying companion merely laughed—he was older, wiser. He was preparing to become a BYU professor—which, of course, he did become years later.
Just as we started to land, Elder Richards woke gently, with a bemused smile. We walked with him into the airport, where his daughter was waiting. What really impressed me about him was not his intelligence, which was great enough—or his wisdom, which was even greater. I wasn’t even that impressed with the fact that this tired, lame, elderly man traveled all over the place without any remuneration to speak to people just because he loved God. What really impressed me was the peaceful grace with which he did everything. No hurry. No worry. No anger. Just peaceful acceptance; he knew God would take care of him wherever he was, because he was God’s own child. I loved him then. I loved him in all the years since. Whenever I would hear his voice I would feel a thrill. And when he died I felt his absence keenly.
I flew again. And again. And again. I never got used to it. It was always an amazing, thrilling, wonderful thing.


IN THE BACK OF A PICKUP IN THE BLACK HILLS

My mother wanted me to have all the opportunities any Mormon girl in the Intermountain west might have. I had been a single Beehive—except for the one sad incident I didn’t want to remember—in Oklahoma. In Nebraska I was the one girl who came to MIA until my mother and I grew weary of it and studied the lessons together at home.
But, my mother decided I would go to camp. Alone. So she drove me up to the District headquarters and dropped me off—with all my camping gear. I don’t remember the names or faces of the leaders in Rapid City. I know that they were true women and kind. But no one knew where to put me.
Once at camp a small tent was finally found for me, and I stayed there—until a day or two later in the camp when a flurry of excitement went through the group of camp leaders. Two girls, sisters, from another district in Southern Nebraska were going to be attending the last day or so of our district’s camp. My heart lifted. Girls from Nebraska—Mormon girls, and they would share my lonely tent.
The girls in our district were divided into separate groups. There were the girls from the tiny branches in northeastern Wyoming who didn’t often attend district activities; they were as far away from Rapid City as we in Nebraska—and obviously did not have as determined a mother. There were the Rapid City town girls—rather normal Mormon girls who were mostly nice. There were the girls from the mining towns—who didn’t usually attend district activities. One girl I had gotten to know at home seminary meetings, Laurel Iverson, was an exception. Strong. She was a large girl and not overly pretty, but she had beautiful eyes, a sense of humor and above-average intelligence. I liked her. She had a reserved dignity; she had a testimony. And the girls from the Air Force base, the other group, there is no other word that says it better, snubbed her. Laurel obviously came from an impoverished place. Her father was a plumber in the gold mines. Once after a district activity she had been without a ride home, and we had driven probably an hour out of our way before heading home to Nebraska to take her home. Driving through the residential area of Lead, built up high over the river, tall, ancient mining company houses, Laurel had asked that we drop her off at the end of her street. I didn’t understand why at the time; nor did my mother who insisted we see her all the way home. And then I saw Laurel’s house and I understood. And I admired Laurel even more fiercely after that.
But the girls from the Air Force base were in force at camp that year. They seemed to look alike, small, thin, well-dressed, always laughing at their own private jokes, always laughing at others. Ellsworth Air Force base was known to have top-flight aviators; the LDS daughters of top-flight aviators knew it well. I avoided them. I knew that I would not be able to come away completely without being the brunt of one or the other of their jokes. And I didn’t.
The leaders were young women, mostly newly married, some of them had attended BYU, and all were married in the temple. A few of them were there with husbands, strong, clean-cut young men who treated all the women and girls with great respect. I adored these young women. And they were liberal with their friendship towards me. They spoke of being married in the temple. They talked about how they met their husbands, what was most important to them. I ate it up. One young woman, a little more sonsy than the others, warned me to be careful even in Utah; things had been stolen in the Salt Lake Temple. She knew; she had been married there! I laughed. This was all so new to me and so wonderful. I was enjoying myself thoroughly.
And then the girls from Nebraska came. I met Linda first. She was about my age, cute without being too well aware of it, bright of spirit, excited to be with other LDS girls. Then I saw her older sister—Dee Dee. Dee Dee was blind. She did not want to be at camp. I reached my hand out to her and she frowned, turning away. These would be my tent mates.
That night Linda explained her situation to me. Her parents had told her she could come to camp only if Dee Dee came also. But Dee Dee didn’t like strangers; she hadn’t been happy about leaving home. Then why? Linda must have wanted to come to camp very badly. Linda was devoted to Dee Dee. She brought Dee Dee her food. She brushed her hair. She helped her dress. Whatever Dee Dee wanted Linda ran to get it for her. I was amazed. At night Dee Dee cried. Her sleeping bag was uncomfortable; she was cold. She didn’t like it here. She wanted to go home. She insisted that Linda take her home. Linda soothed her, comforted her, and talked consolingly to her. All my attempts to befriend Dee Dee had failed much earlier, so I simply tried to sleep.
We were awakened in the night by a storm. It rained; the wind blew. Our tent was knocked over. Water rushed between our sleeping bags. Dee Dee cried. Linda could do nothing for her. I got out of my soaked sleeping bag and went to awaken our leaders. Seeing that we could no longer sleep safely in the tent, one of the leaders helped us to put our sleeping bags into the back of a pick-up. Though it was open it was above ground and out of standing water. We sat there, huddled in our sleeping bags, Dee Dee crying, until early morning when we were driven into town to a member’s house. There Linda called her parents—who came to get the girls from Nebraska. Since it was the last day of camp I was taken to the meetinghouse a few hours later where I waited until my mother came.
Linda and I exchanged addresses and wrote to each other a few times. She sent me a picture of herself, signed, Love, Linda. I sent her one of me. We never saw each other again; our homes were hundreds of miles apart. But it was nice to remember her kindness to her sister.

IN THE BACKSEAT—IN A BAG

I was still looking for a knight in shining armor—or blue jeans. And I thought I had found one. He was tall and pale looking with longish hair. Since I spent most of my time working on campus and studying hard to keep my scholarship I didn’t really have time for anything but dreaming—and I did dream. This one had served a mission in French Quebec and spoke French. And he had a French surname. He was tall and thin—thin enough to look romantic. And, oh joy! He was majoring in art. I saw him walking by my apartment, so I knew he lived nearby. Then I saw him at church, so I knew he was in my branch. I was content simply to watch him and dream. But my roommates, a group of girls from Arizona, who thought their new roommate from Nebraska was a bit too dreamy, got bored one Friday night.
After I had slipped into bed they attacked, giggling. First I was gagged, my hands tied together, then blindfolded. Then they slipped a large garbage bag over my head. I felt myself being carried—and I was placed in the backseat of one roommate’s car. And driven to the apartment of the knight. There I was dumped, unceremoniously, on the front porch and left. Having a peephole for air, I knew where I was and I settled back into the bag and cried.
No one came to the door. And after a while my roommates returned, no longer laughing and apparently subdued, and opened the bag. Standing there in my nightshirt I submitted in indignant silence to a return trip back to my apartment. I had awakened from my dream.


SILVIA IN THE BACKSEAT TOO

I had heard about Silvia, the girl from Cuba. But what was she doing in Nebraska—of all places. Little bits and pieces came out now and again. Her father had been a powerful man in the Cuban government before the Cuban Revolution, and they needed to be as far away from Cuba as possible—but Nebraska?
Then I saw Silvia arrive at school one day—in the backseat of her mother’s huge Chevrolet. She wore a uniform every day to school, and she rode in the backseat.
Silvia and I became friends—especially after Bobbi, true to her word, decided I was no longer worth her time. We took Spanish together, and we formed a Spanish Club. Silvia had a few friends—NOT the popular girls—who walked to school with me after that fateful night. They were sweet girls; they accepted me on Silvia’s word. They made sure I never rolled up my skirts during the mini-skirt years. They always used clean language; they were the best kind of friends. And I walked to school with them for several years. But Silvia never walked to school; her mother always drove her up, and she always sat in the backseat.
Silvia took me home one day to meet her mother. And her mother offered me a hot drink. I told her I didn’t drink tea or coffee, and I can’t remember what I ended up being given, but it wasn’t tea or coffee. I remember vividly the tiny, delicate teacups. And I remember how formally everyone behaved. Silvia’s father taught at the college—Spanish, of course. He was a dignified-looking man; I never heard him say anything. He was dark and swarthy and looked as I supposed all Cuban men should look; Silvia told me that her parents knew their ancestors back to the Crusades; they were from noble Spanish stock.
Silvia was an enduring friend. She agreed to take the missionary discussions and sat through them patiently and silently—completely uninterested, but loyal enough to me to agree to it; I never could get her to talk with me about religion. And it wasn’t until almost 30 years later, when we were corresponding again—after about ten years of not even knowing the other’s whereabouts—that I found out she was Catholic. Why hadn’t she attended Assumption Academy? I don’t know. But I’m glad she attended the public high school so that she could be my one friend. She ended up with a nice husband, a brainy son, and a law practice in Florida. And several months after I had been called to teach our ward’s gospel essentials class—where new members and investigators learn more about the Church—I received a Christmas letter from Silvia—
“My husband and I are responsible for the class in our parish for those who are interested in converting to Catholicism.”
We had both been tall and thin. We each had had freckles. One of us had black hair and brown eyes; the other had light reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Silvia confessed to me in one of her letters that she had written a book about a Catholic girl. I smiled. I hadn’t told her about my book—written, of course, about a Mormon girl. And now we had the same Church calling . . .


IN THE BACK OF THE SCHOOL BUS

It was a privilege to stay over night with a friend, but I was unhappy. Everything had gone well until I had no longer been able to see the school bus. I had watched it until it was a tiny speck, and then it was gone. But it wasn’t any ordinary school bus; it was my father’s school bus.
My father was a Biology teacher at the county high school, and he drove a school bus out in the county every morning and every night. He had the rural route that went far, far out into the country—into the Homestead area. And when one of my friends at school had invited me to stay over night with her I had thought it more than appropriate that my own father drive me out to her house.
It had been exciting on the bus, watching the back of my father’s head and feeling very, very grown up. I hadn’t been on my father’s bus since before I went to school—when he used to take me along on his bus routes. That had been one of the privileges of preschoolers in our family.
And then the bus had left, and I was standing there by the side of a gravel road with my friend and wanting with all my soul to run after the bus.
With my heart in my throat I met the family collie. With a big lump over which I could barely talk I walked out to my friend’s barn and saw the animals they kept there. My heart wasn’t in any of it.
At suppertime with this strange family I thought of what my family would be eating for supper, and I could barely swallow the food. I saw each family member in his or her own special place, and the one place I always occupied would be empty.
With relief bedtime came; I was that much closer to going home—so I didn’t mind it at all.
I lay awake a long time; how could I possibly sleep in this strange home? But I did sleep, and it was with great enthusiasm that I bounded out of bed. I could go home today!
I ate my breakfast quickly, not tasting anything, watching for the bus.
My friend’s mother laughed, “Don’t worry; Melinda never misses the bus”. I was embarrassed that she had found me out.
Melinda’s little brother said that my nose wiggled when I ate. Even my own brothers and sister never said anything that mean about me.
I was out waiting by the side of the road before Melinda; I didn’t care anymore if her family laughed at me. My father was coming. I was going home.
I waited. I thought the bus would never come. What if dad had had trouble with the bus? What if there had been an accident? My father was careful, but there could always be a first time.
Finally, there it was, the yellow speck against the horizon. Melinda kept trying to talk to me; I felt impatient with her. When would I first see my father, I wondered.
The bus came closer. I could see my father looking at me. He was smiling; was it with relief? Tears sprang into my eyes and I bounded out to be in just exactly the right position to board the bus.
My father was not a demonstrative man; he would smile, but when he spoke he would be dignified-- “Good morning, Celia; did you have a nice time?”
There was a part of me that wanted to throw my arms around my dad and weep—but the stronger part of me could not have embarrassed either of us that way!
I answered back calmly, “Good morning, dad—yes, I did” then I took my place way in the back next to my friend. Life was back on track again. I was going home.

BACKSEAT DRIVING

We had missionaries in every size, shape, almost every color, and innumerable variety. We had good missionaries. We had bad missionaries. There was the elder who didn’t bathe and gave his companion much to regret. There was Elder Epperson from Salt Lake who had perfect teeth, a straight, tall build, and impeccable manners and was a little aloof, but always helped with the dishes. He taught me to the play the guitar, and I secretly wished he were my brother. My own brothers were both gone, and I missed them sorely. There was tall, ungainly, loveable Elder Taylor with his joke: “Knock knock—who’s there?—matter—what’s a matter?” We had missionaries from two separate missions working in our area. And our home was an approved stopping place. We fed missionaries. We slept in makeshift quarters so the missionaries could stay in our vacated beds. Once, when we had more than one pair of missionaries, I slept in the bathtub. We had many, many missionaries.
But one missionary caused more trouble than any of the others. Not because he was not clean or didn’t have good manners or a good sense of humor. Or even that he didn’t work hard. He caused trouble because he was charming.
It was hard not to be affected by his charm, but I was determined to resist him. Yet the longer he stayed in our area the more trouble we had. First one of the younger married sisters in our ward fell, then another. They began to compete with each other over whose place this elder would come for dinner appointments. They bickered and made such fools of themselves that I was embarrassed for them. The husbands were unhappy—and complained. But no one seemed to be able to do anything about it. Only my mother and the branch president’s wife—who were older and less susceptible—and one young married sister—Susan, the pianist, who had a better defined sense of propriety—remained untouched. But the other three married sisters competed constantly for the presence of Elder Hancock in their homes. And then, finally, the only other young woman in the branch fell. Pam, two and a half years my senior and the other female college student. I wouldn’t have believed it of her, but she did. Elder Hancock was blonde and had been a rodeo cowboy, but I didn’t think he was that handsome. It was the way he had of looking at you when he shook your hand that probably bowled them all over.
Anyway, it got to the point where our branch was an unhappy place. My mother spoke to my father about it. My father, who had been asked to keep an eye on the elders by both mission presidents, shook his head. What could he do with this cheerful, charming young man?
Time passed, and the three sisters who were most smitten grew worse. I was afraid our branch would be torn apart.
I was reading in the New Testament one night and found my weapon: 2 Timothy 3:6: “For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women . . .”
No one else had taken the bull by the horns. So I would. Elder Hancock and his companion were just leaving our home one night after supper when I asked if I could speak with him a minute—with his companion present—he pretended not to hear me, so I followed them out to their car—and leaned through the window of the backseat—so as not to get too close.
“Elder Hancock, you are creeping into houses and leading away captive silly women . . .”
I began—
Then, taking courage, I continued, “This whole branch is upset over you. You should hear how the sisters fight over you! Really, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
There! I had done it. And he was looking intently at me, a slow smile beginning on his face. His eyes were shining, sparkling, dancing with delight—
He was enjoying this!
I turned around and ran back into the house, humiliated. He had been anything but penitent; he had enjoyed my rebuke.
At Church on Sunday none of the three women would speak to me. Each gave me a glare and turned her head away from me.
And at home my father sighed heavily and said, “Celia, it looks as though we have a problem”.
I waited.
“It was not your place, honey,” he continued.
“But dad, no one else would speak”, I protested.
He shook his head again. Secretly I think he was proud of me.
The next time Elder Hancock came to our home he gave me a huge grin and in an aside to my father praised me, “Your daughter knows her scriptures well,” his eyes gleamed at me.
From then on I avoided him.
A month later Elder Hancock’s mission was up, and he returned home.
A week after that he was back in our branch, flattering the married sisters and stealing Pam away.
He took her out on a date. He kissed her. She was beside herself with joy.
I sneered.
He returned to Utah—and three weeks later he returned again, this time with a wife. A wife!
Pam and I took a walk after church.
“He kissed me!” she said—full of feminine indignation. I shook my head in the satisfied sympathy of superiority.
Pam and I went to visit his wife in the tiny apartment they shared down town. At 10:00 in the morning she had curlers in her hair. She was petite, pretty, and very much out of place away from Utah. Pam and I were cordial. Our conversation was sparse. We left, knowing that Elder Hancock wouldn’t be remaining in Nebraska, though he had sworn to live there.
Each of the three married sisters invited Elder Hancock and his wife to her home for a meal.
Less than a month later they were gone.
Everyone was speaking to each other again. The three sisters smiled at me again.
Though Pam’s lips had been touched, her heart remained her own.


TRAVELLING THROUGH LIFE IN THE BACKSEAT WITH MOM

It was the worst dream I had ever had, and I was still terrified. I was 16 years old, but I lay there in my bed, in the dark, shaking all over. I was so scared I dared not even get out of bed.
And then a shadowy figure stood in my doorway. And I heard a soft voice.
“Celia, are you all right?”
I let out a sigh of relief. Mama.
“Yes, I’m all right.”
“I thought something was wrong.”
“I had a bad dream—a very bad dream.”
By this time she was standing beside my bed, so I pulled the bed-clothing aside to make room for her, and she got in beside me. Mine was a twin bed, so it was tight, but neither of us minded.
I told her all about it.
She was silent for a while.
“Have you ever been this scared, mom?”
“Yes.”
I can’t remember everything we talked about. I don’t even know how she knew to come to me; perhaps I had cried out. But she lay there beside me until I wasn’t afraid anymore. She prayed with me; she prayed for me. Then she got up and went back to her own bed.
That wasn’t the only time she was a good mother.
When I faced down a group of boys the end of my junior year of high school—shaken and feeling that I had had a close scrape--and walked out of school, I made a decision that would affect the rest of my life. I wasn’t going to go back. I had a handful of friends—Silvia’s friends, but, for reasons I couldn’t understand, I couldn’t get into classes with them, and I was being threatened too much—and the frightening thing was that they were boys, not nice boys. It was a class full of the bad boys of the school and three girls—a girl from another community who was married to a soldier in Viet Nam, the girl in the school who had the worst reputation, and me. Even though the girl with the reputation had pled, in tears, with them to leave me alone, I was still the brunt of their ugly jokes and threats. And every day, at the same time, the teacher—a teacher who had expressed her distaste for our religion to my older brother--left the classroom, leaving me to their play. It wasn’t worth the fight anymore. I might lose sometime. My mother was at home that day when I walked in the door and said, “I’m not going back”. She just looked at me. But, quiet and gentle though she was, she was on the phone with the principal before the day was over—and the principal had complained that “you Mormons think you’re too good for the rest of us.”
So that was it?
Even though I was only two classes short of graduation at the end of my junior year, he would not let me graduate, even if I completed the work.
My mother didn’t take no for an answer. She called the superintendent.
She explained what had happened to me—
The superintendent was shocked.
He decided to make me his personal project and went up to the college to request that I be allowed admission on probationary status in the Fall—If I completed my coursework over the summer.
My mother ordered the courses for me from the University of Nebraska and I went to work.
Eight hours of writing at my desk each day during the loveliest days of summer. I was tired. Sometimes I didn’t want to do it anymore. And when I got discouraged my mother was there at my bedroom door—
“Remember what you said about not going back—“
Looking back at what happened that day—sometimes I shudder to think what might have happened to me if my mother had said, “But you must go back”.
She died too young. The family she left have often been lost without her, though we’ve stumbled on—trying to find our way in what sometimes seems to be a dark world.
Even now, years later, when I can’t sleep at night for some fear, I think of how my mother came and prayed with me.
I received a high school diploma. There is a blank place where the principal refused to sign it. And, thanks to a caring superintendent, I went on to get my education. My mother didn’t think much of her own abilities. But she fought for what she thought was right. And won.

DAD TAKES OVER THE WHEEL AND RESCUES ME

When my father’s postdoctoral fellowship at Utah State University ended and he found himself between jobs I couldn’t stay at Utah State. My father took temporary work in construction while waiting for a hoped for position in Texas—which he eventually received. It wasn’t easy for my dad, always the teacher and no longer a young man, to find himself wielding a hammer and shovel, but he wanted to provide for his family, which—since my older brother’s marriage--included my mother, my sister, a brother still on a mission, and me. So I decided it was time for me to try it on my own. My job at the Del Monte cannery didn’t bring enough money for me to pay the tuition for anything. I applied for an impossible scholarship to BYU. I had never even dreamed of attending BYU, and I knew my chances as a transfer student were not good. But a miracle happened anyway, and I received a full tuition scholarship. All I needed now was the money for a year’s rent in some sort of apartment and a job to feed myself while I went to school. The cannery job paid for the apartment, and I found myself with a job—an early morning one, but a job nonetheless, within my first week on campus.
I didn’t know anyone in Provo. My friend Pam from Nebraska would be coming later to finish her last year at BYU, but she wasn’t there yet, and she had made a commitment for an apartment from the previous year. I felt very, very alone. And to make matters worse, within a very short time, I was ill—extremely ill. Some kind of flu. I couldn’t get out of bed. Everything spun around me. My roommates, complete strangers, stayed away from me as though I had some sort of plague. Everyone went to her classes. I had not shown up for work; I was missing classes. All I had hoped for seemed to be coming untrue very quickly. How could I hope to keep my job? How could I hope to keep my scholarship? I lay in that strange bed, in that strange apartment, in that strange town and cried—even though it hurt to cry.
My father was not a telephone person. He had poor hearing. He hated to pay long distance phone bills. It was something our family joked about—that none of us could ever expect a long distance phone call from dad—
But as I lay there in pain the phone rang. I had to struggle to get to it, but I was the only one there and felt I should make the attempt.
I answered it feebly and heard one of the most wonderful sounds I could have imagined—my father’s voice.
“Celia, are you all right?”
Over my tears I managed to answer, “Yes, dad; I’m all right.”
“Why are you home?”
I laughed, “Why are you calling?”
“I was working, and thoughts of you kept coming to my mind. I figured you were in some kind of trouble.”
“You could say that, dad,” I sobbed.
I told him about the flu. I told him about the job. I told him about the scholarship I would lose. I told him about how strange the apartment was, how strange the roommates were, how alone I felt.
“You’re not alone, honey”, he answered.
The conversation didn’t last for a long time. He had to go. And the room was still spinning around me. But somehow I knew I would make it. I would keep my job. I would keep my scholarship. But most important of all, I would keep my dad.

Anna Mae Graham

Anna Mae Graham Hepworth, Born 4 June 1928, in Mesilla Park, Dona Anna New Mexico, daughter of Franklin Jamison Graham and Susan Myrtle Carbine, baptized 1 Jan 1937 at El Paso, Texas by Raymond Carbine Graham, my brother.
Married 12 June 1947 to Joseph Leland Hepworth, Son of Joseph Hepworth and Lona Chandler, in the Arizona Temple.
Our children are: Scott Allen Hepworth, born 3 Aug 1949, Logan, Cache, Utah, md (sic) 3 Aug 1971 to Lorraine Joan Griffin of Melbourne, Australia; Clyde Eugene Hepworth, born 24 Oct 1950, Boise, Ada, Idaho, md 30 Aug 1972 to Donelle Brown; Celia Hepworth, born 15 July 1952, Burley Cassia, Idaho, md 5 July 1977 to Craig Alan Scheinost; Carol Ann Hepworth, born 19 Dec 1955, Jerome, Idaho, died 19 Dec 1955; Linda Hepworth, born 9 March 1958, Burley, Idaho; Sharon Hepworth, born 17 April1960, Burley, Idaho, died 19 April, 1960.
Four grand children: Ann Hepworth, born 12 Dec 1972 of Scott & Lorraine, at Logan, Cache, Utah; Craig Michael Hepworth, born 13 Mar 1974 at Austin, Texas of Clyde & Donelle; Lisa Hepworth, born 13 Feb 1975 at Austin, Travis, Texas of Scott & Lorraine; Brian Joseph Hepworth, born 27 Aug 1976, San Antonio, Bexar, Texas of Clyde of Clyde & Donelle, Paul Brent Hepworth, born 20 July 1978, Calif (sic), Scott & Lorraine; Heather Hepworth, 20 Sept 1979, Boise, Idaho, Clyde & Donelle.


Saturday 17 Sept 1977

This Journal was started as a result of a series of lessons on genealogy in Relief Society. Shortly after we came to San Antonio, Texas, I was sustained as Stake Relief Society President on 4 June 1973. This has been a real challenge to me as I am rather shy by nature, but I have come to love my sisters and the Relief Society deeply. I also accepted in Sept 1976 a call to be a genealogy librarian and have come to love this work. Therefore, when the Genealogy Seminar was planned for September of this year, I was asked by Margaret Turley, the San Antonio 2nd Ward Relief Society President to teach the four genealogy lessons.
My patriarchal blessing tells me that my every desire will be to serve the Lord, and I truly feel happy in his service. On reading the lessons and learning of the charge to keep a journal I felt strongly the desire to follow that counsel. This journal will be for the purpose of recording spiritual experiences and relating my love for the gospel and for my Savior Jesus Christ. May it truly serve its purpose.


17 Sept 1977

Today was Stake super Saturday. It began with the genealogy training session at 8:00 a.m. Leland &Linda were very helpful in getting me organized for Relief Society Leadership at 10:00 so I could attend the genealogy meeting. We listened to a tape by Boyd K. Packer of a speech given at the Genealogy Seminar in Provo. He told us of the great work being done by computers to assist the genealogy program, and of the advances that will soon be made to improve it. It was truly inspiring!
Our leadership meeting went quite well and we had good attendance. I do hope we inspired the presidencies to really work towards 80% Visiting Teaching. In my fifth year as Relief Society President I would like to feel that we had had some measurable success. I know we can touch the lives of our sisters with Visiting Teaching.
The meeting of the Committee of Community Awareness seemed to get a good response from our Ward people. The majority really have a concern for the civic affairs of our area. Such good people we have here.


18 Sept 1977

Leland and I went to Kerrville with President Otte for Ward Conference. Sister Neva Spencer of the Kerrville Relief Society had asked me to teach the genealogy class for them as their teacher was ill. This was an enjoyable experience. The sisters of Kerrville Ward were so responsive and so friendly and appreciative. I felt so rewarded for the effort I had made to attend their Relief Society and assist them. I felt so very blessed to be a member of the Church and to have the heritage that I have. I’m grateful for the sacrifices my pioneer ancestors made and I’m grateful to have their histories to know of what they have done.
President Otte assigned me to speak at Ward Conference so I spoke about Relief Society and a mother’s responsibility to her family and home.
We got back to San Antonio in time for choir practice and to attend a farewell for Connie Lujan. We sang “Come, Come, Ye Saints”, the Tabernacle Choir arrangement. How I do enjoy singing with the choir!


1 Oct 1977

Well, I completed the genealogy lessons. I’m glad I did it. It was a real learning experience for me. Though I’ve been Stake Relief Society President for over four years this was really my first chance to teach in Relief Society. That doesn’t count Chadron Branch, we did everything there to keep the branch going.
Last weekend we went over to Austin to see Clyde & Donelle and the little boys. Clyde had called and told us of his promotion to bakery manager and we were excited over that. Then, too, we got lonesome to see Craig & Brian. They grow up so fast. Brian is 36 lbs & 36” tall at just over a year. We took both the boys swimming but Brian wasn’t happy without Mama or Daddy there.
Scott called about a new job offer, then called again to tell us he’d stayed with the old one, with a new position at Amcomp. Hope it works out well.
Celia was put in as Secretary for the Hepworth – Hurst Family Organization and we are all going to get our families organized, I hope.


1 Oct 1977

Today we listened to the Conference Sessions by were at the church. It was so inspiring. I know we must follow the counsel of the prophet, that there are indeed challenging times ahead. How grateful I am for a prophet! President called us to put our houses in order!
Leland has gone to Priesthood Session tonight. He has been having struggles lately and has been sorely tried. His ear ringing has been severe lately. It started in February of 1967 and has been an affliction of great magnitude at times.
Leland has applied for the job as President of Ricks College. I know he could do a good job if he is the one the Lord wants for the job. President Vaughn J. Featherstone told him to use him as a reference. I hope Leland can be considered. He isn’t fully appreciated at UTSA and he works so hard.


9 Oct 1977

We attended Stake Conference today in San Antonio Stake. Linda and I were able to sing with the stake choir and it was a real thrill. Kay Otte is an excellent director. We sang “How Lovely Are The Messenger” and “I Need Thee Every Hour.” It was an especially inspiring Conference. It was announced that there are 2 new Branches, Carriza Springs & Boerne. The latter was organized from parts of Kerrville, 2nd & 8th Wards, and we in Babcock North Subdivision were put in 8th Ward. We will miss a lot of dear friends in the 2nd Ward but we were surely warmly received in 8th Ward as we attended there this evening. It is special to be in the same Ward with a General Authority, President Featherstone. He spoke to us this evening when a scheduled speaker couldn’t, and he is fantastic the way he can quote verse after verse of poetry and scripture.
All of our Babcock North people were grateful for each other in our new Ward. The Church is the same everywhere and I am grateful for it.


27 Nov 1977

It has been an eventful week. Last Saturday Leland and Linda And I went on a bus with our stake people to a family rally in Houston, Texas. We went to help show the strength of those who oppose the IWY which was also being held that day Nov 19th in Houston. We met in the Astro Arena with 15,000 other women and men with the purpose in mind to show the president and congress that we represent the women of America. All of the States were represented and 50 busloads of women came from Tennessee. The rally had a religious spirit and the people had a good spirit about them. They were courteous and friendly. I really feel a renewal of faith in humanity as a result of attendance at that rally. We hope it will make an impression on the President of the United States as 300,000 petitions were gathered that day. It was a tiring day but we were proud of the women of our stake who made the effort to go.

We had a nice Thanksgiving on the 24th with Clyde, Donelle, Craig & Brian, Pualani and her children, the Child family and John Galley. John brought down an old Charlie Chaplin film to show us. We had lots of good food and an enjoyable day.
Today Leland got up from a sick bed and went to fill a High Council assignment of speaking at Lackland Branch on the Air Base. He gave a very good talk about Spencer W. Kimball and encouraged the airmen to attend the program next Saturday to hear the prophet.
At 8th Ward we also had a Sacrament Meeting about the prophet and were counseled to prepare ourselves spiritually to receive his message.
We are excited about his visit. Linda & I feel lucky to be able to sing in the Choir for him. This should be an outstanding event for the entire San Antonio Region!


Dec 3, 1977

The prophet came to San Antonio! What a thrill it was to be in his presence. About 3,000 people filled the Joe Freeman Coliseum. What a thrill to be able to sing for him! I feel a deep gratitude to know that Spencer W. Kimball is a prophet of God!


Dec. 18, 1977

Leland and Linda and I had a great experience tonight. We attended a fireside to hear a special Christmas Message by Vaughn J. Featherstone, Mission President and General Authority. It was on Gifts of Love. Linda had made him a special pillow depicting the Theme “Fill Someone’s Bucket” that Pres. Featherstone had previously given. I had made him a blue quilt. We presented them to him tonight and were thrilled to be hugged by a General Authority. He was so overwhelmed he was speechless which he said was unusual for him. He said he’d longed for a blue quilt and that he’d think of that sweet Sister Hepworth every time he wrapped up in it. Then I was overwhelmed!


March 29, 1978

What a beautiful day this has been! South Texas in March is lovely. The bluebonnets are in bloom, a little late because of the cold winter and lack of rain but, nonetheless, they are blooming, along with the redbud trees and Spanish broom. It was the kind of beautiful day that makes me glad I’m alive and able to see it.
The past three months have flown by! On the 23rd of December we bought a new Volare Station Wagon. We drove to Austin and spent a very sweet Christmas with Clyde & Donelle and the boys. Then we returned to San Antonio, packed in Linda’s necessities and ours and left to take her to BYU. We had such a nice visit with Celia & Craig, spent New Year’s with all the Hepworths and Taylors in Ogden. All of Grandpa & Grandma Hepworth’s descendents were there except our two sons and their families. We enjoyed a temple session in Provo and one in Ogden. We had a nice visit with my Mama and it was good to see her doing so much better.
When we left Utah and Linda, we knew that Celia & Craig would be leaving also within 2 weeks, for Wisconsin. They made the trip there in spite of bad weather and blizzards, found a nice little home and a good job. It was comforting to know they were well settled and cared for by members of the Church.
The Semester at UTSA involved a class of field trips so we have spent the winter and spring weekends - Fridays & Saturdays – traveling to and visiting various wildlife habitats and refuges. This has been most enjoyable for me. This coming week will involve a week’s camping trip to Big Bend and Guadalupe Peak to study the various wildlife in those areas. This will be by bus and should prove most interesting.
On March 15th Leland received a phone call asking him to go to Juneau, Alaska for a job interview. This is a two-year assignment with a leave of absence from UTSA. Since that time, two weeks ago, we have both been in a state of excitement. Leland leaves April 13th for Juneau, and then we will know what the immediate future will hold for us.


25 May 1978

We are going to Alaska! Leland came back from the interview very excited about the prospects. The past month has been one of waiting. We are learning patience! It takes so long for contracts to be negotiated by the government.
On May 6th I conducted my last Relief Society function as Stake Relief Society President in San Antonio. We had a Stake Homemaking Day where all the wards put up a homemaking display to show what had been done during the year. We also had a skit and a fashion show. I was thrilled to be presented with a lovely yellow rose corsage by my stake board. Then at the closing of the program President Otte released me and sustained Elaine Stalter. Then I was presented with a lovely pocket hymnal by my board. It is hard telling so many good people goodbye.
On May 12th when Leland completed his grades for the semester we left for a visit to see Craig & Celia in Milwaukee. It was a challenging trip because we drove two cars. We took the ’73 Duster up to help out the Scheinosts. Leland drove it and Linda & I drove the Volare. It was a tiring trip and we were very glad when we finally arrived at their place in Greendale on May 14th, Mother’s Day, in time to go to Sacrament meeting with them. It was good to see them settled in a charming little apartment that Celia had made so homey and clean. She was such a sweet little hostess and cooked such lovely meals for us. During the week we saw the countryside, visited the Domes, a beautiful area made into botanical gardens, one tropical, one desert, and one seasonal. They were lovely. We helped Craig and Celia dig up sod and prepare a garden spot.
On Sunday we drove to Oshkosh, where Craig had served his mission. He had been asked to speak and we all accompanied him. We are so very proud of our fine new son, and are glad to have him in the family. He has made Celia so happy. They are good for each other.
On Monday morning, May 22nd, we left early to start home to San Antonio. We traveled to Carthage and Nauvoo, Illinois to revisit the Church Historical sites. We had been there in 1962 but since Linda was only four years old at the time she remembered very little of it. Much restoration had been completed since that time and a Visitors Center built in each place. It was truly inspirational to visit. I was also thrilled to be able to see the Nauvoo Monument for Women. Since I had been encouraging donations to this since it’s beginning I felt a strong desire to see it. The workmen were still working to complete the grounds for the dedication on June 28, 29, 30. I would have liked to attend it but since we’ll be in Alaska by then, I was very glad to get to visit it when we did.


May 27, 1978

This evening we helped the 8th Ward with a building project by assisting with an inventory for Alamo Enterprises. It was an interesting experience. Leland & Linda worked until midnight with the completion of it.
Before the memory of it fades, I want to share my feelings about visiting the Church historical places. On May 22nd after leaving Nauvoo, we traveled to Adam–Ondi –Ahman. This was most unusual as we traveled the dirt farm roads, up and around cow pastures until we reached the area designated as Tower Hill. We all felt that it was indeed the spot that Joseph Smith had claimed it to be. We also felt disappointed that vandals had entered the area and disfigured the signs. We surely could feel the need for a cleansing of the area before Adam comes to fulfill prophecy.
It was growing dark as we left the area and continued onto Liberty. There we stayed in an old hotel, had a good night's rest and early on May 23rd, we arrived at the visitors center. There we were welcomed by an Elder McRae, a descendant of one of the prisoners of Liberty Jail, and also a cousin of the Joseph V. McRae who was a witness at our wedding in the Arizona Temple.
The Liberty Jail is perhaps the most touching of all the historical spots. It was a time of such suffering and uncertainty, as evidenced by Section 121 & 122 of the Doctrine and Covenants. The ceiling of the dungeon was much too low and as we entered it our hearts were very full of compassion for their sufferings. We learned much of the Missouri history of the church at that historic site.
Our visit to Independence was of a different nature. Our visitors center at the Temple Site area is very effective. They had on display the historical pictures of CCA Christensen, as well as the usual displays explaining our beliefs. The heel of my left heel was getting sore so they insisted I use a wheel chair and Linda pushed me around. I felt a little silly but enjoyed it nevertheless.
We also visited the Reorganized Church Auditorium and the Church of Christ (Temple Lot). At the former we were ignored, at the latter we were invited in to see the Cornerstones of the temple and were instructed about their beliefs by one of their “apostles”. We felt the spirit of contention as this man tried to show us how the Latter Day Saints were wrong. They have accepted the Book of Mormon and some of the Prophet Joseph Smiths revelation but not all. They were led away by a man named Hedrick and they deny anything pertaining to Eternal Progression. They are waiting for Christ to come to the temple. Leland noted that the man would not look him in the eye. We came away feeling sympathy for those who have cut themselves off from the fullness of the gospel.





May 27, 1978

Bishop Weiland has offered to take care of our moving so we will be free to go on to see all our loved ones before going to Alaska. We do love and appreciate the members of 8th Ward for their kindness to us. It looks like we’ll be leaving May 28th for points west and north. We’ve loved our time in San Antonio and have gained so much from it.
We are looking to our move to Alaska with excitement!


May 29, 1978

The Latter-day Saints in Babcock North invited us to a picnic for Family Home Evening at Raymond Russell Park. We just got our food set out and the hamburgers cooking when it started to rain. Several of the sisters started gathering up food to carry to the pavilion for cover. Several of the hardier souls (brethren) kept cooking hamburgers and got them heaped onto a plate before they scurried for cover. Linda kept carrying food and children back and forth until she was soaking wet. It was a typical South Texas rainstorm. It literally poured down rain and the wind blew it under the pavilion roof. In spite of the weather we had a delightful time. We were pleased to be presented a book by Paul H. Dunn, signed by all our dear Babcock North neighbors. We hate leaving so many fine people that we have known and loved.
On May 30th we went to eat lunch at USAA with President A. Ray Otte. He has been a fine Stake President to work with and we value him as a friend.

May 31st

We spent the morning packing the car and cleaning the house, then picked up our check at the University and left for Dell City. It was a relief to finally leave our home. I hope Jim & Emelda will enjoy living in our home, and I hope we can find a new home in Juneau that will be satisfactory.


June 11, 1978

We had a nice visit with Ida & Allan. Ida seems to be doing better. The doctors have told her that her cancer appears to be gone. I surely hope so because the chemo-therapy treatments are so difficult.
On June 2nd after spending the night in El Paso with Wayne & Val, we left for Utah. We traveled through the colorful country of Southern Utah (Natural Bridges & Capital Reef) and arrived on Saturday evening June 3rd. I spent my 50th birthday with my Mama. It was good to see her looking as well as she did. After her fall 1 ½ years ago we never expected to see her so well again. She still can’t see much but her hearing is better and she can take care of herself for most things. On June 5th we went to Ogden to visit Lynn & LaDell and then after a session at the Ogden Temple went on to Malta the next day. It was good to visit for a few days with the folks in Malta. On Friday we came to Twin Falls to see Clyde & Donelle and the boys. Brian was so pleased to see his Grandpa. We went to an Elder’s Quorum social on Friday night. It was good to see how well Clyde & Donelle have been welcomed into the Ward. Clyde is much happier here than in Texas. He loves it here.
Yesterday we drove to Elba and attended the Babbitt reunion. It was good seeing so many old friends & relatives. Even though related only by marriage, some of these people are very dear to me.
Today we attended church with Clyde & Donelle and the little boys. Nyle & family came over from Pocatello to visit with us during the afternoon. Leland was pleased to have been able to visit with his brother.
It has been so nice to see our kids here in Idaho. On Tuesday morning we will leave for California to see Scott, Lorraine and the girls.
On June 9, 1978 we were thrilled to hear of the revelation through the prophet that the priesthood will now be given to the blacks. Our immediate thoughts were of Linda Berry & Isaac Thomas in San Antonio. What a wonderful blessing for them and for the Church!


June 29, 1978

It has been 20 days since I’ve made an entry. I’d best catch up a bit. I am sitting in the home of the Muchmores where I can see ships go in and out Gastineau Channel and watch the small stream cascade down the mountainside across the channel. It has been an eventful few weeks.
On June 13th we drove to San Jose, Calif. to visit Scott, Lorraine, Ann & Lisa. It was such a rewarding and heart-rending time. We stayed with them for 8 days. We took a bay cruise, went to Marine World, spent a day at the beach, attended Church with them and just generally had a delightful time. We went with Scott & Lorraine to a session at he Oakland Temple. Lorraine was so great with child, but she worked so unceasingly to keep things going. We did all we could to lighten the load with cleaning and cooking and tending the children. How we did enjoy those little girls. We treasure the memories of the time that we lived close to our grandchildren. Somehow it was leaving the little ones that was the hardest part of coming so far from them. They grow and change so quickly. Two nights before we left Ann cried and was very upset because we had to go. The night before it was Lisa’s turn to cry “I don’t want Grandma to go away”. I must admit that this was very difficult and even now recording it brings tears to my eyes. What delightful little ones they are.
We are eager to hear word of the birth of the new baby but it is not to be born until July 19th. I wonder if Lorraine can go that much longer.
On June 22nd we left San Jose at 3:30 am and drove through San Francisco before the traffic got bad. We drove up the Redwood Highway along the coast. It was a lovely drive. We drove through the Oregon countryside enjoying the scenery and I didn’t wonder at my mother’s love for the area.
We drove to Portland before stopping for the night. For breakfast we went to Kelsa and ate and visited with a former San Antonioan, a gal who had served on the Stake Relief Society Board as music leader and conducted 3 concerts for us. It was a short but delightful visit with Carol Roberts. Then we drove 3 more hours to Seattle and made the necessary preparations to get our car on the ferry and us on the plane. We flew up the next morning, June 24th, a Saturday and when we arrived at the airport I must admit I felt rather frightened. It seemed that it had suddenly hit that we were “far away in Alaska” among strangers.
After several unsuccessful tries (our first experience with the Juneau phone company) we finally reached one of the Branch Presidents, Melvin Perkins, who is also a realtor. He came to the airport, packed us up and took us to his home. We found out that there were virtually no homes to rent, and that most of the ones for sale required 10% down payment, which we just did not have. We spent a rather sober time at the Perkins house. After some discussion Pres. Perkins returned to work, leaving us there alone for a time. The three of us retired to an area in the corner of their basement and knelt and Leland poured out his heart to our Heavenly Father. We knew we were supposed to come up here and we’d felt we’d done the right thing in selling our home even though it hadn’t given us much for a down payment. After talking to the Lord we returned upstairs. In a short time Pres. Perkins called to tell us about a house we could get for 5% down. We just knew something would work out. Sharon Perkins came in bringing food for dinner and in the afternoon they took us for a tour of the area. As Pres. Perkins showed us houses and told us the prices 80,000 to 100,000 for modest homes, I felt discouraged again. All the time I was praying I could like the one he would show us that was available for $63,000. When he took us there, it was quite run-down, especially the carpets, but I felt like it was something I could accept. Then Pres. Perkins told us of another LDS part member family who needed to sell a home and that it might be a 5% possibility. It was an $80,000 home. We went to see it and all fell in love with it. With the Lord’s help, after much fasting and prayer, with the help of Pres. Perkins and his friend, the bank president, we’ve applied for a loan and will be moving in on Saturday. We really feel blessed. We have never felt so the love and kindness of members of the Church. We stayed with the Perkins overnight and on Sunday and felt like we’d known them for years. We were also offered a home and a car by another family, who were out of town on vacation. We used the car to get our car from the ferry early Monday morning and have stayed all week here in their home and have never met the Frank Muchmores. Their two teen-age children who are at home, Barb & Dennis are delightful youngsters.
Our furniture will come in on the ferry tomorrow. It won’t be delivered until Monday so we’ll camp out over the week-end. Today I went to help some ladies quilt at the Church. Tomorrow Leland is going fishing. I guess we’ve been accepted in and we’re adapted to Alaska.
We went to see the Glacier today. It was beautifully blue. I’ve never been in more scenic country. Today the sun shone all day!


July 2, 1978

Enjoyed Sunday School and Fast & Testimony meeting and singing patriotic songs. There will be a celebration at the church on July 4th. Hope we are settled enough to go over for Leland bore his testimony. So did President Perkins and told of our arrival and expressed appreciation for our family. I felt quite overwhelmed by it. We truly feel welcomed. After meeting, President Mikesell, District Pres., invite us to his office to get acquainted. Then Pres. Perkins called us in to his office to ask us to accept positions in the Branch. Leland will be Gospel Doctrine teacher; I will be Junior Sunday School Coordinator and Linda will teach the 3 year olds in Jr. Sunday School and will function as Young Adult Branch Representative.
We slept in our new home last night on borrowed beds and ate our lunch sitting on the floor.
Tomorrow our furniture will arrive!


July 23, 1978

It is nice to be settled in our new home. I have been Jr. Sunday School awhile.
Coordinator for 2 Sundays now and how rewarding it is. Last night little Chiska Gibson came up and told me I was the best Jr. SS (sic) coordinator she’d ever had! What a thrill.
On July 20, 1978, Paul Brent Hepworth made his arrival into mortality. Scott called to tell us that Lorraine had given birth to their first son. He weighed 9 lbs 9 oz., 3 lbs more than his father did at birth and has the same bald look since he just has some blonde fuzz. Ann and Lisa are excited about it! Scott and Lorraine are talking of coming to Alaska for Christmas. Wouldn’t that be wonderful!
Celia asked us to join with them in a fast on the 16th for them to have a baby. We pray the Lord will bless them with that which they so desire. We called her on her birthday and it was so good to hear her sweet voice.
Clyde called the night of the 20th to tell us the little boys had pneumonia. Brian had just previously broken his collar bone. His grandpa had sent him a get-well card and he carried it with him all day, even in to getting his X-rays.


July 24, 1978

It is pioneer day and we will have a branch pot-luck supper and program.
We have been so busy since arriving here. People have been very sociable. We’ve picked blueberries almost every day and even some salmon berries. Leland went fishing last Wednesday with the Petersons and caught 2 salmon. He was so excited and is eager to fill our freezer with them.


Sept 13, 1978

Fall is beautiful in Alaska. I am so enjoying the change in colors. We have had such a long spell of good weather and we’ve picked about 100 pints of blueberries and 20 of huckleberries. Such fun! And it’s so nice to have them in the freezer.
Larrie Jaruela, who works with Leland brought us several bunches of frozen salmon to bottle an shares. We have about 60 pints of salmon put away. It makes us feel secure to be prepared for winter and to add such good food to our supply.
I’ve had the opportunity of substituting in Relief Society with the homemaking lesson. I love the Relief Society and it gives me great joy to be involved in it. I’ve also been called as a visiting teacher.
I’ve been asked to be in charge of the program for the Klingit Culture Night in November. What a challenge. Looks like I’ll be busy.
Happy Day! The loan was approved for our house!


Feb 14 1979

On this Valentines Day I want to tell my Journal how grateful I am for my sweetheart. Leland called last night from Boulder. He will be home Friday night. It was so good to here his voice. I love him so much. He has been so good to me.
On Feb 4th Linda was interviewed for a mission by President Douglas Snarr. He told her after one question that he didn’t need to interview her further that he could tell that she was good. She came out of the interview feeling so very happy and humble. We are so happy that she will be able to fill a mission for the Lord.
Clyde and Donelle moved to Boise on Feb 6th and are getting settled in a nice new place. They are expecting a new baby in August when Brian will be 3 years old.


March 4, 1979

It has been a month since Linda’s interview. Within 2 ½ weeks, on Feb 13th she received her mission call to Germany Hamburg Mission. In 8 more days she will leave to visit Celia, Clyde & Scott before going into the Mission Training Center on April 5th. It is a momentous time for us, to be sending our fourth and last child on a mission. We are very proud of her as we are of all are children. One thing that is so gratifying is to see how much the people of Juneau 2nd Branch love her. She has won the hearts of all from the oldest to the youngest. Her 3-yr olds will miss her in Jr. SS. and Brother Huls will miss her enthusiasm in the Sunday School. All of the youth love her and many of them are planning on missions because of her sweet influence. Leland & I will be going down to San Jose on the 29th to go to the Oakland Temple with her.
Clyde wrote Linda the sweetest letter of encouragement that has been and will continue to be a real strength to her.
Linda left Juneau on March 12, 1979 and spent 3 weeks traveling and visiting her sister in Milwaukee, Clyde in Boise and Scott in San Jose. We went down to Seattle March 27th, and on down to San Jose the 28th, met Linda at Scott’s and were able to go to the Oakland Temple with her on the 31st to get her endowment. Then we put her on a plane on April 2nd for Salt Lake City and a visit with relatives there. LaDell picked her up and she was able to go to the Ogden Temple with her grandparents. Wylis took her down to Provo to the MTC early on April 5th and stood-in as parent for her. The MTC was a very special experience for her, and after 8 weeks of intense study she left on June 5th for Germany. We’re so glad she is able to have this experience.


June 18, 1979

The last part of May we were informed that we would be returning to Texas for fall semester. The Boulder Colo. NOAA office was being closed and all the NOAA employees needed to be relocated and since we were “on loan” from the Univ. of Texas and not a NOAA employee, we were to be released from contract. So our plans were drastically changed. We put the house up for sale and made plans for heading south. We are to get on the ferry Aug 1st to ride to Prince Rupert and drive from there down through British Colombia. I’m excited! We’ll be able to stop in Republic, Washington and visit the Calvin Bakers, old friends from Chadron, Nebraska days, and then down to Boise, Idaho to see Clyde & his family.
Clyde took a spill on the motorcycle and seriously separated his shoulder. He has been in a lot of pain with it but the doctor finally found that the brace was holding it in place so it can heal. On my birthday, June 4th, Brain fell into a canal and was swept under a culvert. The neighbor pulled him out, unharmed but terribly frightened. Craig had escaped injury as he had been riding with his Dad when Clyde was hurt. Clyde protected Craig. We felt blessed that the little boys were alright and pray that Clyde will soon be well and able to return to work.
Leland called San Antonio and our Stake President, Ray Otte has offered us a place to stay and help in finding a new home. It will be nice to see old friends in San Antonio, though we don’t like saying goodbye to so many new friends in Juneau. Life seems to be just a series of leave-takings but we’re always glad to make the new friends that we find the church over.
On March 22nd, 10 days after Linda left, Richard Hepworth came to stay with us. He got a job with the State, enjoyed the solitude of Juneau, became Branch Clerk of 2nd Branch and then went back home on June 4th. It was a good experience for him and helped fill the void left by our Linda.


July 27, 1979

Today we signed the papers to sell our home and also saw the van packed with all our belongings. The movers packed our things for two days and we’ve been staying at Duane Petersons home with David, their 19 yr old son. We left very blessed to have our home sold. After a month of advertising it and showing it to people we sold it to a woman who just happened to see our “For Sale” sign. She stepped up to the gate to see our phone number on the sign as we were preparing to go out. So we went out and met her and invited her in to see the house even though it was cluttered. I had been preparing food for a Youth Conference dinner and had pies and roll dough on the counter, dishes in the sink and bread in the oven. Leland had just come from a field trip and left his things on the floor. Maybe it was the smell of the baking bread, but Lillian Motter fell in love with the house and when her husband, Stewart, came over from Anchorage he agreed and we sold our home. We left like the Lord truly answered our prayers and sent someone who would love our home as we had.


July 30, 1979

I helped Bernice Williams finish her last two quilts, with Venita Anns help. Tonight we eat with the Anns family. Wednesday I’ll attend my last Relief Society in Juneau, at least for now, and that night we’ll get on the ferry. Last night, after Church, the Perkins gave an open house and almost all the families in the Branch came. We truly left loved and will really miss these fine people.


Aug 6, 1979

On the evening of August 1st we left Juneau on the ferry Malaspina. Within minutes Juneau faded into the fog or mist. In spite of the heavy rain Lyman & Susan Thorstasen came to see us off. David Peterson and Brother Woody Huls & Sister Rhetta came by the ferry terminal also to tell us goodbye. We surely didn’t like telling people goodbye.
We were thrilled with the ferry ride. We had a nice stateroom with a window. After walking all around the ferry in the wind and rain we went to our stateroom and watched the progress of the boat along the channel, from our window. It was delightful. We watched until dark, then slept til morning and started watching again. Leland saw a porpoise. I wasn’t quick enough to see anything like that. The ferry had to refuel at Ketchican so we were 2 ½ hrs late getting into Prince Rupert. It was 1:00 am and it took us until 2:30 am to get off the ferry and through customs so we decided not to get a motel but to start driving on through British Columbia. We drove over 700 miles on August 3rd in about 16 hrs before stopping for the night. On the 4th we went on to Republic, Washington and stopped to stay over with Calvin & Susan Baker whom we know in Chadson. It was so good to see them so happy with their 5 sweet children and to see their activity and stalwartness in the Church. We went to meetings with them and all bore our testimonies, Leland & I, Cal & Susan, and their 3 older children. We were also privileged to go with them this morning, the 6th, up to a little clear mountain lake where Calvin baptized Danny, who turned 8 today. Leland gave a good talk about baptism there on the shore of the lake; and was a witness to the baptism.
Then we left them and drove to Pullman, Washington and are staying in Moscow where we spent 4 delightful summers about 20 years ago. Tomorrow Leland will interview for a job at Washington State University.


Sept 3, 1979

It is Labor Day and Leland & I are spending part of the day sorting out his mail trying to get his things prepared so he can start teaching classes on Wednesday. It will be difficult for him without his reference files and books that are still in storage waiting for us to find a house.
We got back into San Antonio on Friday and were grateful to have a place to stay at A. Ray Otte’s, our Stake President. He had left the keys with Schiess so we went there to pick up and ate supper with them. It is good to meet old friends again. On Sunday we went to Boerne Branch and were warmly welcomed by the Whitings, Havards, Wennermarker, and on & on. It was very heartwarming.
It has been very warm and it has been a difficult adjustment from S.E. Alaska. It really hit us prior to arriving in Boise, but in spite of the heat it was so good to see Clyde, Donelle and the boys. We arrived there a day early so Donelle & Brian were at night Relief Society and Clyde & Craig weren’t yet home from fishing. We sat out on the lawn for awhile, accompanies by Rusty, their big golden retriever who really gave us a welcome. Donelle soon arrived and little Brian wasn’t little anymore. For an instant I thought it must be Craig. He is a large child for almost 3 and is learning to talk now. I’ve never seen a more handsome child, with red hair, red brown eyes and such a smooth clear olive skin, very striking. Such an intelligent little one. Craig soon came home from fishing with his Daddy. He has slimmed down, and has an abundance of freckles on his nose now. He’s a handsome fellow and is eager to start kindergarten.
We were so glad to find them all so well. Donelle is expecting our 6th grandchild and is doing fine. Clyde is able to use his left arm quite well. His recovery from his shoulder injury was quite miraculous after being administered to, and his spiritual growth was indeed a thrill for us. We had expected to find them impoverished but their testimony is that because of paying their tithing that they are able to meet their obligations. They will be a couple of years getting out of debt but we feel they’ll be able to do it and we’re so proud of them.
On Thursday the 9th of August, Scott and Lorraine and children arrived from San Jose. What a delight it was to see them. The little girls were so pleased to see Grandpa & Grandma but little Paul had forgotten us. We do want to see all our grandchildren often enough for them to remember us and for us to be able to enjoy seeing them grow and develop. Ann & Lisa are old enough to remember the fun times we’ve had together, as is Craig and little Brian has been reminded of us often enough to remember. Little Paul will as he gets older, I’m sure.
We had such a nice visit together and made a tape to send to Celia & Craig and to Linda in Germany. All of the children participated.
When we were there in Boise we were able to all attend Sunday School together at the 15th Ward, before Scott’s family left for California.
On Monday, the 13th, Dad helped Clyde get a new battery and tires for Clyde’s car while I helped Donelle with sewing, making 10 little shirts for Craig, prior to school starting. We also bought him shoes and jeans, socks & underwear and some shoes and pants for Brian. They were very pleased little boys and it was fun for us.
Tuesday evening, we bid them goodbye and left for Malta where we had a good visit with Leland’s parents and he went fishing with his Dad. On Friday when they went to the genealogy library we went to Rupert, visited Uncle Eldon & Esther and part of their children for a little while, then went to Pocatello for a visit with Nyle & Kay and the girls. Early Sunday morning we drove to Afton, Wyoming in time for Leland to go to Priesthood meeting with Glen Kennington.
My little mother had arisen early in anticipation and had curled her hair burning her fingers on the curling iron, in her effort to be ready when we arrived. The poor little lady is almost blind now, seeing only shapes but was so pleased to have us come see her there at Verna’s new home. Verna has such a lovely home and we spent 3 pleasant days there. Leland helped Glen move irrigation pipe, pour concrete and plant lawn. He is much more contented visiting if he can be accomplishing something too. I read to Mother and visited with her. She had a bad spell on Sunday and as we had left her napping while we went to Sunday School, we came home to find her not looking well and couldn’t rouse her. After a time she came out of it, feeling nauseated and miserable and slept or rested the rest of the day. By Monday she felt fine. Each time she has one of these “heart spells” or whatever they are we wonder if it will be the last. She is 90 now and it’s been almost 20 years since my daddy passed away. We feel there must be a reason for her to live on and on in spite of so many afflictions and infirmities. It was hard to tell her goodbye on Wednesday morning as we left to go to Logan to the temple. We enjoyed that experience, then went to Bountiful and stayed over Thursday with Raymond and Lucille. While we were with them we made a trip of the canyon and collected some big rocks for their rock garden. On Friday we went to Ogden, went to the temple with Leland’s parents and LaDell. On Saturday we had the Hepworth family reunion of Joseph Hepworth’s family and on Sunday we went to Midvale, attended church with Wylis, where the West Jordan Center for Retarded & Handicapped presented the program. It was unusual and very touching.
Early Monday morning the 27th we left Midvale for Hatch, New Mexico. We spent Monday night there at Jeans and surely missed the sweet presence of our dear brother-in-law Francis Melton who passed away last October. We had such a nice visit with our dear sister, then went to El Paso where we visited Wayne, Val and their family and then on our to Dell city for a day with Ida & Allan. We feel so very blessed to have such good and dear loved ones in so many places and to have to (sic) opportunity to see them all again.
On arriving at UTSA on Friday we had two letters from Linda and one from Celia. Linda’s letters expressed her feelings of happiness at being in Germany on a mission. We are so very blessed to have such two lovely daughters and our fine sons and their families. Such choice children. We’re proud to be there parents.


Oct 10, 1979

We arrived in San Antonio to find that Ottes were in Utah but they had left their house key with the Schiess’ so we went to their place and ate supper, got the key and moved our clothes, etc into the Otte’s home.
We found our furniture had arrived and was in storage. We spent the next 4 or 5 days house hunting and finally decided on an apartment across 1604 from the University. Leland is able to walk to work from there. This location put us in the area of Boerne Branch. We attended meetings with them at the Boerne High School and felt warmly welcomed as we knew most of the members in attendance. We stayed in all about ten days with Ottes who returned home the 2nd night we were there. We were treated so hospitably by them. They are wonderful people.
On the 10th of September we moved into 15800 Chase Hill, Apt # 2006, The Foothill Apts. It took some doing to move all our possessions into a 2-bedroom apartment.
We have been given assignments in the Church. Leland is Executive Secretary and I am Social Relations teacher in Relief Society. Leland has been assigned to home teach the Clarks, Eric & Helen, who have just been baptized and I’ve been privileged to go with him occasionally to visit them and help them prepare to go to the temple.
Leland enjoys the walk to UTSA and hiking around in the oak covered hills in the area.
We have started an early morning scripture study and feel the desire to grow nearer to the Savior. I know the gospel is true and I am so very grateful for it.


Feb 11, 1980

It has been a few months since I have written. I found myself quite busy making preparation for Christmas, making afghans and quilts. I made a quilt, quilted it for a lady who called and had been referred to me. I made it up for her for her (sic) son for Christmas. She called me a few days ago to tell me how much he liked it and what a nice job I had done. I was very glad. I am presently making plans to quilt another one, for Shirley Schiess. It was one that Mary, her mother-in-law had embroidered before she died and they want it for an heirloom. I felt quite honored. Mary Schiess had served for a time on the Stake Board with me in Relief Society.
We had a very lovely Christmas vacation, going out to El Paso, visiting Mama in Hatch, then up to Utah. We stopped in Spanish Fork to visit Geslisons’ a lovely couple whom we met in Juneau and it was a lovely reunion. The we visited our Utah bothers and sisters briefly and went on to Pocatello to spend a week including Christmas with Celia and Craig, whom we hadn’t seen for 1½ years. It was a delightful time. We made preparation for Christmas; Dad and Craig got a tree and Celia and I made decorations. We were able to attend their Sacrament Christmas cantata where Celia & Craig sang with the choir and Celia sang a solo. What a beautiful voice she has. It was so very good to really feel like we were able to get acquainted with our fine son-in-law. He is so very good to Celia and such a fine man. Our time with them was very enjoyable.
The day after Christmas we drove Leland’s parents to Malta (we had gone over and picked them up the Saturday before so they could spend Christmas with Nyle in Pocatello and we had a nice time with them). We went to Boise and after driving the last 50 miles in dense fog we arrived at Clyde’s house and were warmly welcomed. They took us out to eat Chinese food. We has so much fun getting to know out new little granddaughter, Heather, and spoiled her, I’m afraid, holding her each time she fussed. We thoroughly enjoyed Craig & Brian. Brian entertained us with his speech. He substitutes a y with every letter he can’t say. When I tried to get him to take of his socks to go to bed he said, “No, Grandma, I yeep in my yocks.” He was in charge of the Family Home Evening Lesson and with his mother’s help gave a fine message to us.
Celia & Craig came over for the weekend and New Years so we were able to have another visit with them.
At each place we stayed we made a tape to send to Linda so she could participate with us. In Pocatello we recorded our Christmas caroling event and Linda was very touched by it. I was too; we sounded awful. In Boise on New Years we let the little boys talk to Aunt Linda and again in San Jose.
We left Boise on Jan 2nd and went to California and stayed 4 days before heading back towards Texas. Lorraine showed me how to use the Mill & Mixer I had bought so I was able to demonstrate it in Hatch and Doris Franzoy bought one. It was fun and it has given me something to do back here in San Antonio and I feel good to be helping people learn to use their wheat.
We are waiting to hear the decision about the job in Pullman Washington. It is very much in out thoughts and prayers and we hope the Lord will have us go there.


July 6, 1980

Again time seems to have crept up on me. It has been a time of waiting. We waited through March and April and into May to hear form the men at Washington State University. They offered the job to another man at the Associate Professor level but he didn’t accept it. In May when school was out at UTSA we made a quick trip to Pocatello & Boise to see Celia & Craig and Clyde & family and to look for jobs. While we were traveling up there Mt. St. Helens volcano erupted and dumped ash over the northwest. It didn’t affect Boise where we were staying but closed down the school at Pullman for 4 days. We applied for a job at ISU in Pocatello and came home expecting to get a letter saying that the job in Pullman was filled but it is still undecided and instead we got a letter indicating that we didn’t get the job at ISU.
As is apparent our lives have been very much influenced by job searches this year. The temperatures in Texas this summer have been record-breaking. So many have died in Texas from the heat that it reached national and world news and Linda, in Germany, hearing of it called home to see if we were alright. We feel strongly the need of leaving UTSA this year and have applied for several jobs.
We read and re-read our patriarchal blessings and pray for guidance. We know we are being tested and tried, and that there must be a reason for all these things and all this waiting. I pray that we can endure to the end and be faithful and accept the Lord’s answers to our prayers.


July 6, 1980

In our Sunday School class John Wennermark, our teacher asked that we make a list in our journal of our creed, as did George Albert Smith. Hopefully I shall be able to look back and see I have accomplished some of it:

1. I would be a friend to the friendless and find joy being of service to those in need.
2. I would visit the sick and the elderly and try to give comfort.
3. I would not knowingly harm anyone, and I would seek to make friends with all.
4. I would overcome a tendency to selfishness and jealousy and rejoice in the success of others.
5. I would look for the food in everyone and not be an enemy to any.
6. I would strive to live in every way as I would if my Savior was present and as I know will make me the most happy.
7. I would be a missionary and strive to share the gospel with others.

July 6, 1980

The Boerne Branch Relief Society has designed and created a friendship quilt celebrating the Sesquicentennial of the Church. It has the portraits of the 12 prophets of this last dispensation to date embroidered in black on white ovals and stitched onto a blue center. Around this blue rectangle embroidered in yellow with the words “Sesquicentennial Celebration 1830-1980, the name of the Church and San Antonio Stake, Boerne Branch,” are 30 muslin blocks portraying the history of the Church and special programs, etc, made by the different sisters. It has been a very nice project and I’m glad I was able to help with it. We are planning to have it completed to display at the Open House of our new Stake Center and possibly in the R.S. Building in Salt Lake City.


Aug 25, 1980

We have just concluded a Family Home Evening on a Bit of Heaven and have discussed what we can do to overcome the stumbling blocks to having our home become a bit of Heaven! I have so many faults and I hope Heavenly Father will help me overcome them.
We have had a busy month. Leland suffered from heat exhaustion this summer so as soon as he was out of school, one month ago today we left for cooler country. He had heat rashes and a yeast infection that went away overnight when we got to a cool day climate. Driving up through the high mountains of Colorado was therapy for him and we arrived in Afton, Wyoming early enough to attend most of the meetings of Sunday morning. Celia & Craig had come down from Scout camp to spend the weekend with Verna & Grandmama so we were able to have a nice visit. We talked Celia into staying a couple more days, then took her back to the camp. We drove to Idaho Falls and did a session at the temple then drove on to Malta for a visit with Leland’s parents. The Joseph Hepworth family reunion was planned for the following Saturday so we drove the folks down to Ogden to LaDell’s house for the weekend. Nyle & Kay came down from Pocatello for the reunion. On Monday we drove back to Malta and on Tuesday we went to Boise. Clyde took his Dad up into the mountains on a camping-fishing trip while Donelle & I learned how to use her new dehydrator. We went to church in Boise with Clyde & Donelle & family. We enjoyed the visits and time with the children. We had bought school clothes for Craig and new shoes for Brian last year so when we arrived they showed us the worn condition of their shoes. So we made a shopping trip for new shoes and pants. Heather had grown up so and we got better acquainted.
We returned to Pocatello for a few days with Celia & Craig and then another visit at Malta before we started home.
We were able to go to the Ogden Temple then to Bountiful for a visit with Raymond & Lucille before making the long trip to Hatch. Doris Franzoy, Jeans’ daughter was attending the World Conference on Records in Salt Lake City, so we offered her a ride home and she accepted. Seventeen and one half hours later we were in Hatch, N.M. where we visited and attended Church. We stopped in El Paso and Dell City before coming on to San Antonio the 19th of August. On arriving home we called the realtor who was handling the home we were wanting to buy. He told us the interest rate was going up so we went right over and signed the papers that evening. We started moving in the next day and by the 21st were all moved in, thanks to the help of some good friends, Wendell Child, Bryce Wanless and Jerry Saunders. It has been nice to move into such a lovely home, 6114 Sunset Haven, even if we wonder how long we’ll be here.


Oct 12, 1980

Two days ago our Linda returned home from the Germany Hamburg Mission. It was such a delight to see her. We had received a special letter from her mission president telling us that she is an accomplished young woman with many talents and deep spiritual insight, that she has served distinctively and has been influential in the lives of many of the German people as well as many members and companions. He said she will undoubtedly do much throughout her life to further the Kingdom of God.
We feel privileged to be her parents and know that she is a special spirit. All our children are, they are blessings in our lives.
Linda bore her testimony in Church today, as did Leland & I. She was most warmly welcomed home.
She will stay one week and then fly to California where she will stay with Scott & Lorraine’s children while they make a business trip to New Zealand & Australia.
We are enjoying our new home. After a very hot summer the weather has cooled a little which makes it easier for Leland. It still seems very warm to Linda who wore a wool coat most of the time in Germany.
We are trusting in the Lord as to what our future holds. We feel the need to live in a cooler climate. We are waiting to see the results of an application sent to Humbolt State University in Arcata, California. They are looking for a person to serve as Dean of the College of Natural Resources. We wonder if this will be our opportunity. Time will tell.


Nov. 23, 1980

We are striving to be patient as we “wait upon the Lord” as we heard this morning in the “Spoken Word” from Temple Square. We haven’t heard yet what we are to do and it is hard to make plans. I have been serving as Homemaking Counselor in the Relief Society of 8th Ward. It has been a very rewarding calling. We had 4 weekly classes in sewing and cooking and upholstery to teach our sisters some of the basic skills. It has been a satisfying activity for many.
This morning I was called by the Stake Presidency to serve as 2nd Counselor in the Stake YW program. My patriarchal blessing tells me that I will work with the youth. I have very mixed feelings as I really love my calling in Relief Society. Most of all I want to move to California. Our inability to make decisions, because of not knowing what our future plans will be, is difficult at times. Help us to trust in the Lord!


Jan 11, 1981

I was set apart this morning as 2nd Counselor in the Stake YW program by Pres. Allan Whiting. Brother Whiting was our Home Teacher last year when we lived in the Boerne Branch and he’s a good friend. He gave me a very special blessing that I felt very much in need of. It will surely take a lot of help from the Lord for me to fulfill this calling!

When we received the word from California that someone else was chosen for the job I felt devastated. I shed buckets of tears and felt that our prayers weren’t answered. I know that they were; the Lord had said, “No.” It wasn’t the job for us. I know that Leland’s blessing tells us his life work is all planned and that he’ll look backward without regret, so I know we won’t regret this, when we look back but at the time I did. I struggled with it for a week before I could feel good about it. I expect the Lord has struggled with my impatient spirit for a long time.
It was good that we had Christmas plans to think about. We contemplated sending money to Linda to fly home and not making the trip but Leland felt that we should go north and job hunt. We sent out letters to 52 Stake Presidents in the, Northwest, including a resume and asked for assistance in finding a job. We also wanted to check out a few situations and longed to see our grandchildren.
As we were making our plans to leave, Brother Eric Clark, a sweet convert friend, passed away. We helped his widow, Helen through the first sad time, made funeral arrangements and left after it was over. We visited my mother, Myrtle Graham, and my sister, Jean, in Hatch, then drove on to Salt Lake City. After a session in the Ogden Temple, we went to Malta to see Leland’s parents, and Linda who was there at that time.
After a couple of days of visiting we three went to Pocatello to spend Christmas. Celia & Craig were stars in the sesquicentennial play, “Within These Walls.” We were able to watch this production the day after Christmas, before going to Boise. Celia and Craig have fixed up their little home so pleasantly. It is enjoyable to visit with them. Craig is such a fine son-in-law. He tries so hard to please, is so very agreeable and he is so good to Celia. They are very choice young people, very spiritually inclined. Oh, I do hope that they soon be blessed with children. They would be such good parents.
On Saturday we went to Boise and were so joyfully received by all, little grandsons, especially. How that Brian does love his Grandpa Big Sam. Little Heather looked at us with big-eyed guardedness for a little while before she decided we were part of the family and started giving us her big winning smiles. Craig was so proud to show us his schoolwork. He’s a bright little guy and does so well in school. Heather loved our attention, loved to have us hold her and when her Grandpa turned his face away to talk to someone else, she would reach her little hand and turn his face back to hers, or tap his shoulder to get his attention and give him her most charming smile. We had a delightful week with Clyde, Donelle and children and were most thrilled to have all the family together on New Years. Scott, Lorraine, Ann, Lisa and Paul drove up from San Jose to Boise on Dec. 30th. Then on the 31st Celia & Craig drove over from Pocatello. It was the first time we had all been together in 4 ½ years. We took a lot of pictures, in casual dress and hope to have some good ones to remember our time together.
We had one sad note, Lorraine’s mother, Mary Griffin, was found to have cancer of the liver and was given from 3 to 6 months to live. She is a very good woman of whom we are all very fond.
We were glad Scott & Lorraine had made the trip to Australia to visit before she was taken so bad.
We left Boise on Jan 3rd, the same day that little Ann was baptized in San Jose. We wished we had had the time and money to go to San Jose and attend her Baptism. We felt good about our visit in Boise. We ached to live closer to all those loved children and grandchildren. Leland interviewed for a job with Morrison and Knudsen and came away with the feeling that we could have a job with them if we wanted one. We have set a goal to move from San Antonio by May, before the worst of the hot weather. We have several job applications out now. We are praying for direction from (the) Lord, wondering again where we will be directed.
It is good having Linda home with us again. She’s such a sweet spirit and has so much to give. She has just been called to be the Young Adult Representative for 8th Ward and has a real challenge with so many inactive Young Adults to activate.


15 Feb 1981

Today we visited the Boerne Branch. It was a missionary farewell for Lee Whiting who is going to Tokyo. Allan & Rita Whiting have been good friends of ours for a lot of years along with all the Whiting family. We do have some good friends in Texas.
This weekend, Friday night and Saturday has been the Standards Conference for our youth. In my new calling I had to talk to the Mia Maids of the Stake. It is quite a responsibility and I feel very inadequate but there are many lovely young girls who need love and support and guidance. Leland was asked to talk about Science and Religion so we were both involved.

15 Feb 1981

Linda got the results of the tests that the doctor made and found that her adrenil gland was producing too much male hormone which was causing a lot of her problems, facial hair, fatigue, overweight. She was glad to find there was a reason and a solution and is taking medication for it. She is also diligently dieting in an effort to get her weight to normal.
I was sustained today as Homemaking Leader in 8th Ward. I will have 3 more months to work in the calling and Anne McClelland & I have already planned our activities. Anne is the new counselor who replaced me and she has so many talents and ideas. It will be fun to work with her.
Linda has pieced a quilt and we quilted it last week. She is developing many talents and skills.
Leland has been having muscle problems in his arm. It makes it hard for him to write. On Jan 20th I had a D & C and the doctor assured me that I am in good shape. I’m glad.
April 5, 1981

We have enjoyed two days of watching General Conference. Some good brethren worked hard to make video tapes and set up televisions in the Stake Center so that we could see our beloved prophet and all the other general authorities who speak to us. We came home with renewed determination to write in our journals and try harder to do some other things where we feel like we haven’t done as well as we should have. Leland has had so little success in interesting the people with whom he works at the University in the gospel. So we decided that we would give their names as referrals to the missionaries and see if they would have more success. They are good people. We hope they will be touched. We presented Books of Mormon to all of them with a written testimony previously.
Linda and I have been working on a mission quilt. She has made up patterns of various things pertaining to her mission. She will have 28 blocks when she has finished. She has let me help with the embroidery. She made blocks for each of the cities in Germany where she labored, a copy of her mission call, her mission song and creed, a picture of the Savior, of Joseph Smith, of the first vision, of the scriptures, her missionary name tag and a lot of other memory items. It will really be a work of art and a lovely keepsake when it is completed.
We have spent much time and prayer trying to decide where we should go and what we should do. We have felt since Leland had so many problems with the heat that we had to move before another summer. After praying about it and thinking about it for some time we have decided to move to Boise, Idaho. We want to buy a small piece of land and build an earth home for ourselves and Clyde’s family. Clyde would be able to build it we feel. We may get a job with Morrison-Knudsen but in any case we feel like we need to be closer to our family and work together to reach our goals of becoming as self sufficient as possible as our leaders have urged us to do. We must do these things and we must have faith that the Lord is directing us and will help us if we do all that we can do and keep his commandments. We are very blessed people, and we are so grateful to the Lord for all his blessings to us. I love my Savior!


May 24, 1981

The last few weeks in San Antonio moved by quickly. Linda and I were busy packing and cleaning and singing. We practiced once a week with the Relief Society Stake Choir. Sister Helen Williams was the conductor and because of our love for her Linda and I felt like we should support her in the Relief Society Musical Production. We also love to sing. So we practiced and packed.
Terry and Barbara Anderson of 8th Ward bought our home. We signed the papers that last busy week. On Saturday, May 9th, we loaded the truck with the help of our Home Teachers, Br. Powers and his son, Bryce Wanless and Dixie Watkins, one of Leland’s students. When we had everything in the truck and the house cleaned we went to practice, the dress rehearsal of the musical, and then participated in it that night. The next day we left San Antonio and drove to Dell City where we stayed overnight with Ida & Allan. The next day we stopped in El Paso to see Wayne and Val and then went on to Hatch to stay with Jean and Mother. Linda and I drove the car and Leland drove the truck. When we got into the Salt Lake Valley Leland drove on up to Malta to see his parents while Linda and I stayed another day visiting Wylis and Raymond and Lucille and one of Linda’s missionary companions. On Friday we drove on to Malta to find that Leland’s father had been very ill had surgery and was recuperating. They needed someone to drive them to Burley to the doctor on Monday so Linda and I stayed in Malta for the weekend while Leland took the truck on to Boise and unloaded it. Celia & Craig came over from Pocatello for the weekend to help Grandpa & Grandma at Malta so we had a nice visit with them all.
On Monday, Linda & I took G & G to Burley to the doctor and after returning them to Malta we came on to Boise. We were glad to be at the end of our journey. We feel happy to be back in Idaho. We have looked at houses and looked for jobs. We’ve been promised by the Lord through his patriarch that Leland’s life’s work will be opened so we know if we keep trying we will find a job and get a home. We are happy to be here.


July 5, 1981

It is Celia & Craig’s Anniversary. They have been married for 4 years. We have had many experiences in the past month. On June 3rd Donelle went into surgery. Linda & I took care of the children, and have continued to do so until she is well again. The day after Linda and I arrived in Boise we looked at a home that we were all charmed with; we made an offer, which was accepted. On June 11th we signed the papers that made it our home. It is a 5 bedroom – 3bath home on 10 acres just as your start up the canyon on Hwy 55 towards Horseshoe Bend. We have a delightful place. On, June 12th, our 34th anniversary we started moving in. Susan Baker, a dear friend from our years in Chadron, Nebraska came by to see us and helped Linda & I clean up the house. It was left in a very dirty condition and we worked so hard to clean it up.
Celia & Craig came over to bring their rota tiller and help us get our garden in but instead they helped us clean and move. It was a very difficult time for Donelle because she was just out of the hospital and she wanted to help and couldn’t. We finally got moved and the garden in and are gradually getting settled. We have all moved in and will build another home for Clyde’s family when we can.
Leland is still looking for work. There have been a number of prospects but we don’t know what the Lord will open up for us. We know we have been very blessed to get this piece of land and home and we know he will continue to bless us.


Sept 20, 1981

On Sept 8th Leland went to work for Morrison-Knudsen. What a blessing this has been. We came to Idaho to work for them and I felt all along that we would work for them but it seems to be easy for your faith to waver as weeks go by without work. Boise has been such a depressed area and every time I heard that or every time someone talked about the high unemployment rate I would feel great concern. Leland spent all summer applying for all different kinds of jobs and it has been very hard for him to be out of work for 3 months.
I was busy all summer taking care of the children while Donelle recovered from surgery. It was easier for me, except for the concern I felt for Leland not being able to find work. I worked hard but I enjoyed the children and the activity of chasing after an almost 2-yr old girl and tending garden helped me take off the extra weight I’d been carrying for a number of years. I lost about 15 lbs without even dieting! The weather was hot, but not as hot as San Antonio, Texas. Before another summer comes we want to have a sleeping room out of doors so we can sleep in a cooler place.
Craig and Brian started school in Eagle Elementary. We are living in the area of the Eagle 2nd Ward and have been so warmly welcomed into the Ward. In so many ways we feel like we have come home.
Today, Sept 20th our little Granddaughter, Heather, turned 2 years old. She had a little family party and was so excited over her gifts and cake and ice cream. She is such a delightful little child.
We feel so grateful that the Lord has blessed us with a home and now a job. We feel very blessed.


Dec. 27, 1981

Several months have passed since I’ve written in my journal. In some ways they have been weeks of turmoil. Leland had to travel out of town with M-K. He still isn’t permanent so that keeps us uneasy. He worked on a Wyoming Abandoned Mine project and was gone with that. Then in November he was able to take me with him to complete the mine survey. We spent a week traveling around Wyoming and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
At Thanksgiving Celia & Craig came over and had turkey with us and stayed for the weekend.
Clyde got another construction job and they decided it would be better for their family to have their own home. We feel it was a decision that will be better for all of us. They started moving the week after Thanksgiving into a house in Boise and transferred the boys from Eagle School.
Two days after Thanksgiving I flew out of Boise to go to San Jose. I flew to Seattle. My it was a beautiful flight. I love the scenic Northwest. While I waited at the Seattle (Sea-Tac) airport I walked around and saw the Alaska Airlines planes. I surely had a feeling of homesickness sweep over me. I wished Leland & I could be on one and go back to Alaska. We had such pleasant times there. I arrived at San Jose about 1:40 in the afternoon and Scott, Paul & Lisa came to pick me up. They had a Thanksgiving dinner waiting for me. On Monday Lorraine went into the hospital and on Tuesday afternoon, Dec 1st, 1981 little Sharon Hepworth was delivered into this world. She is a beautiful little baby. She weighed 10 lbs 6 oz. She was named after our youngest little baby girl who was born April 17, 1960 and only lived for two days.
Lorraine was in the hospital for 6 days more. I took care of the little family. Scott was so appreciative of all that I did for them, each meal was eaten with such gratitude on his part. Ann, Lisa & Paul seemed to be very glad to have Grandma there to help out. Ann and Lisa were in school but little Paul was home with me. He played happily on the floor beside me. Lorraine had brought out some of her unfinished sewing projects and her brand new sewing machine. I was glad to have something to do for her so I made clothes for the girls and Lorraine and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Lorraine and Sharon came home from the hospital on Dec. 7th. It was Family Home Evening night and the activity was to put up the Christmas tree. Lorraine rested on the sofa while Scott and the children set up the tree and lights, etc. The children were all so excited about Christmas. Paul kept saying, “Everyone’s talking about Christmas.” And when I’d sing “Santa Claus in coming to town” he’d smile and then say “But it’s not for real.” Scott had been very honest with his children about everything. He says he wants them to believe that there is a God and his Son, Jesus Christ and not have them think that maybe they are pretend like Santa Claus.
On Dec 17th Leland called. He had taken Linda to Pocatello and he didn’t have any work at M-K so I said, “Why don’t you come on out to San Jose and bring me home?” My return flight wasn’t scheduled until Dec 23rd. So he asked the neighbors’ to take care of the animals and was soon on his way. He drove straight through and arrived in San Jose at 10:00 pm. It was so good to see him. We were able to go to Church with Scott and the children and have some good visits. We got lots of food products from Lorraine and on Dec. 22nd we drove back home to Boise. The children hated to see us leave. Little Lisa, especially, cried at our departure.
We have had a lot to do here to organize our home since Clyde & Donelle’s departure and that has kept us busy. On Christmas Day we went down to Clyde’s and Donelle’s house and had a turkey dinner and enjoyed the day with them and the children.
We have had 4 inches of snow, the first White Christmas in 15 years here in Boise. It is a beautiful sight to look out on the snow covered valley.
I am very grateful for my blessings. I’m grateful for the Christmas season, for the birth, life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ for me, and for His love for me, one of the weakest of his creations.


January 18, 1982

Clyde & Donelle had their house sold out from under them so they had to move after being in the house a little over a month. The new place is much nicer. We helped them move in last Thursday & Friday.
On Wednesday the 13th Linda left for Salt Lake City. She is staying with a former missionary companion, Karen Beyeler and looking for a job. We are praying that she will find something there. Jobs have been very scarce here in Boise and she needs to have her independence.
Leland and I have settled into our house fairly comfortably and resumed our “home alone” status. He & I are a family again now and happy that way. He is a good husband. We have made some goals. We want to pay off our home in 10 years and be prepared to go on a mission. Life is good even though we don’t know what is ahead. We must continue to trust in the Lord.


Feb. 21, 1982

This past month has been a different time for us in some respects and very rewarding in others. Leland has searched so hard to find the reason for his difficulties in finding steady employment where he can really use his training and education. In doing so he has really humbled himself and repented and put his trust in the Lord. I have kept encouraging him and reminding him that after the trial of faith come the blessings. He has been so sweet and kind and loving and patient. It has been a beautiful thing to watch him as he has grown spiritually in this past short time. I love him so much and am so thrilled by his growth. I know the Lord will bless and good things will happen.

On Feb 12th we drove to Malta. Linda who is working at the Beehive clothing Mills in Salt Lake City, got a ride up to Pocatello and on the 13th she and Celia & Craig all came to Malta. We had a nice week-end and enjoyed attending church in Malta with Grandpa and Grandma. That evening we took Linda to Ogden, along with her stereo and typewriter and boxes of books and records and food. On Monday Allan took Linda and her things back to SLC while Leland & I returned to Malta had dinner with Celia, Craig & G & G and then departed, C & C to Pocatello and Leland, I, Joe & Lona (G & G) back to Boise. They will stay two weeks with us and it is nice to have them here with us.
Several weeks ago I attended a Christian Women’s “Praise Luncheon” because my neighbors, Helen Roesberry and Donna Buchanan invited me. It was quite an experience. The food was good, the speaker, a gray-haired plump little lady gave a speech and they sang some songs and prayed. I felt it was alright, everyone expressed love for Jesus and said “Praise the Lord” a lot. At the end a woman got up from a table and went up and started praying very loudly. I felt very uncomfortable. She didn’t have what I would call a good spirit. Then the MC announced that anyone who was troubled could be “ministered” to and could line up and the little gray haired lady would pray over them. I went out to call Leland to pick me up and when I came back there were ladies who had been “prayed over” that were lying on the floor. One had her arms raised in the air and her eyes closed. I didn’t like the feeling (spirit) there. I was glad when Leland came to pick me up.
I related this incident because it gave me an opportunity to invite Helen Roesberry to go with me to Relief Society. So on Tuesday, Feb. 15th I invited her to go with me to Homemaking meeting and help me give a mini-class on “Soups”. She said she’s like to go so we went and made soups. I believe she enjoyed it. On the way home as we were coming up highway 55 we saw car lights blinking. We slowed down and passed a car with 2 flat tires. We stopped and some men walked over and told us the bridge was out. I parked the car off the highway. We picked our way across the bridge, walking on the base of the concrete sidings because of the big holes in the asphalt. We walked about a half mile to the home of a friend of Helen’s and her son gave us a ride home. The next morning Leland had to walk two miles down to the bridge and cross over it to get to the car and go to work. My soups were still in pans in the back of the car. We had so much snow and rain and when the weather moderated and the thaw came there was so much water in Spring Creek that it washed out the bridge, or rather the soil from under the one side of the bridge and the asphalt caved in. It was repairs after two days.
Today, Feb. 21st we went to Stake Conference. Marvin J. Ashton was our visitor and he reorganized the Stake, calling A. Dale Dunn as Stake President. Leland had an appointment tomorrow to visit with him about employment. President Dunn is also president of Simplot Company.


March 28, 1982

Yesterday we went to little Craig’s baptism. Our first grandson, Craig Michael Hepworth was baptized March 27, 1982 by his father Clyde Eugene Hepworth. He will be confirmed today, March 28th with Leland and Craig Scheinost assisting Clyde. We were glad that Craig and Celia were able to come over for the occasion.
The last few weeks have not been easy ones. Leland has had bronchitis and had been quite ill. He was laid off work for a week and that was hard for him. He is still working with Morrison-Knudsen on a casual basis and the work isn’t easy for him. Dean KEPPLER from the University said he might have some information for him about jobs by April 15th. We are praying that something will open up at the University.


June 3, 1982

I haven’t written in my journal for a long time. I haven’t had the heart to do it. I have always felt that a journal should express positive thoughts so sometimes it is hard to write. I will back track. On April 13th Leland was laid off work with M-K. Guy and Emma Glascow had planned a temple trip in their motor home and we had “bought” a temple trip from them at the ward auction. So it seemed to be a good time to make the trip. We left on Wed eve. and stopped in Pocatello, got to the Idaho Falls Temple by noon Thursday and did four sessions that day, four Friday and one Saturday morning with others from Eagle 2nd Ward who had come over for the day. It was a special 3 days that we were in the temple and Leland & I felt an assurance that the Lord loved us though we still don’t know what we are to do. On our way home we picked up Linda in Pocatello and took her home to recuperate for a time. After a short time she decided to go back to Salt Lake and try again to find a job. We took her down the last of April and we checked out jobs in Pocatello, Ogden and Salt Lake for Leland and found nothing. We decided since there were no jobs in Idaho or Utah that it wouldn’t be possible to keep our home so we put it up for sale and have moved here to Scott’s place in San Jose. On Mother’s Day weekend Celia & Craig came to Boise to visit us. We sent them back to Pocatello with all of Linda’s things and all the food they could take in their new little pickup. Then we started packing. We rented a U-Haul truck loaded our things and left Boise on May 12th. We hope our house will sell. We hope that Leland can find work here. In the meantime we are helping Scott and Lorraine in the plans for opening their store. I try to do a lot of the cooking and housework so that Lorraine will have time to do the work she needs to do. They tell us that they need us. I don’t think they need us nearly as much as we need them, but it makes us feel good to think that we might be helping. The little children are good therapy for us.
It is difficult to be without work and be dependent on your children when we have always tried to be in a position to be the one to help. It is especially hard for Leland. I don’t think we have ever been through a harder time. I surely hope we can endure to the end. We want to do what’s right. We want to serve a mission. We have hoped that we can sell our home so we can go on a mission and have promised the Lord that we will do this. We have felt awash many times in our lives but more so now and hope we can have some direction soon.


Dec. 22, 1982

I guess I really shouldn’t procrastinate writing in this journal any longer. As I look back I read the same thing over and over. We were so sure we would have a job by this time and we don’t yet. I have kept busy helping Lorraine with the house and children, doing sewing for the children for Christmas. We will spend Christmas with Scott and Lorraine and the children here and then drive to Boise for a visit with Clyde & Donelle and children and then to Pocatello to see Celia and Craig and Linda. We are proud of our children. They are good people and our trying to live good lives. They are the blessing of our lives.
Scott and Lorraine are so good to us and we appreciate them for that.
We enjoy the people in San Jose 20th Ward and have come to love many of them. There are good saints everywhere. They have accepted us and given us plenty to do in the Ward. I am on the Ward Activity Committee as cultural arts specialist. I was responsible for the roadshow and was in charge directly of the costumes. I worked hard on that.
Leland is Sunday School teacher for the 16-17 yr olds. He has had a real influence for good in their lives.
I am also serving as Sewing Chairman and assistant Homemaking Leader. I enjoy that.
Leland & I have enjoyed the opportunity to attend the Oakland Temple. We have taken that opportunity quite a lot lately.
We love the Lord, each other and our family, and want to serve where we are needed.

In October I won the scripture Chase at the 20th Ward family scripture Contest. I need to keep working at it now and not forget the scriptures I learned. I was even awarded a prize, a T-shirt with the inscription San Jose 20th Ward Scripture Chase Winner.


March 2, 1983

Well, here it is much later. As I said earlier that we would, we left on Christmas Day, drove through canyons of snow on Donner Pass (but clear roads) and on to Boise. The only icy roads were when we crossed the corner of Oregon. We enjoyed the time with Clyde and Donelle and the brown & red headed grandkids. My they are growing up. We notice it more when we are away from them for a time. The weather was cold and snowy but we had clear roads for our trip to Pocatello. All the Joseph Hepworth Clan were getting together at New Years at Nyle’s in Pocatello so we went in time for that and had a good time and a lot of good food.
Linda was eager to show us her apartment. She had it fixed up so nicely. She and Celia had it arranged for us to eat at Celia’s and sleep at her house. She gave us her bed and slept on the floor while we were there. We enjoyed our stay in Pocatello. When we arrived we went to ZCMI and to the book department where Linda works and surprised her. She was so tickled to see us and introduced us to everyone of the employees with whom she works. She likes her job and is glad to have one.
Celia & Craig also warmly welcomed us. We had hauled a lot of food out for them and Clyde’s family, beans & peas, nuts, chips & coconut, etc and they were all pleased with their “Christmas presents”.
After New Years was over we went over to Malta and stayed a week. Leland went rabbit hunting with Dad and enjoyed themselves. I visited with mom and kept her company. Leland wanted to check on a job in Twin Falls at College of Southern Idaho so he made several trips over there from Malta and on one of the days he took his Dad with him and they also went to Jerome and saw some of Dad’s old brothers, one in a nursing home. He was pleased to be able to do that.
We stayed in Malta for Church the next Sunday (8th Jan) and saw a lot of old friends from our Malta years. When we went back to Pocatello the following week Leland talked to Nyle about the job in Twin Falls; Nyle knew a lot of people that could give Leland information. He talked to Craig and Scott and decided to go back to Twin Falls again and see more people. We had some business cards made up and packed up the car again and went back to Twin Falls. We took the list of names on the Search Committee and Board of Trustees and found an available office and phone at the College and started making phone calls and setting appointments. We found a place to stay in Filer, 6 miles from T.F. with Leland’s Uncle Riley and Aunt Willa. They were so very hospitable and kind. We went back to Malta for the weekend and then back again. We spent in all 13 days in Twin Falls visiting people. Leland saw 16 of the 17 people on the Search Committee (one was in Hawaii). He saw 4 of the 5 on the Board of Trustees and talked to the other man on the phone. We felt very good about our efforts and excited about the job there. We made one more trip back there the following week with Celia & Linda on their day off. They were excited about it and Celia was all ready with plans for decorating the house we would buy. She & Craig & Linda are fasting each week for us to get a job, for them to get a baby and for Barry Scheinost to be baptized. So if that’s where the Lord wants us to be we surely would like to have that job and live in Twin Falls.
I hated leaving Pocatello and leaving that Linda. She is so alone that it hurts me to leave her. But she is doing well and I’m so proud of her.
Anyway, we went on to Utah and visited with Raymond & Lucille, Lynn & LaDell, went to Church with Clyde’s on Feb 6th and stayed with her Sat & Sun night, at least until midnight Sun when Leland woke me and asked if I was ready to leave. I said “yes, if you’re ready to drive.” We’d made a bed in the back and I crawled in and slept off & on until 6:00 am when we arrived in Monticello, Utah. There was a blizzard there. We ate breakfast, then drove on to Cortey, Colorado before we got out of the snow. We learned later that we got out of the area just in time. A short time later there were travelers advisory’s all over the state of Utah. We had a little car trouble in Cortey but Leland fixed it and we drove on to Hatch, New Mexico where we were eagerly received by Jean & Mama. Jean planned a trip to Mesa to do temple work for a week. Leland & I stayed two weeks there in Hatch with Mama. We always enjoy going to Church in the little Hatch Branch and enjoy reminiscing with Uncle Wayne Corbell & Aunt Thelma, Mama’s youngest sister. (Feb. 17-19-1983)
On Feb. 19th we went down to El Paso and spent the day with Wayne & Val. They took us over to Zarragoso, Mexico where we bought a case of vanilla for gifts. I am always so glad when I come back across the border into the United States. I’m grateful to be an American citizen and seeing the plight of the poor Mexican people always makes me aware of my blessings.
Ida & Allan came in from Dell City to spend the afternoon & evening. Val made some enchiladas and we ate and visited and enjoyed the time together. They four had tickets for “Know your Religion” classes so when they left the house for that we went on back to Hatch.
Mother had a bad attack on Feb 17th. She told us later that she thought she was dying. She asked Leland to give her a blessing, not to get well, but to be able to endure what she had to endure. She was a very sick lady for several hours. She said later that she could hear us but couldn’t respond. Jean came home from her trip to Mesa while Mother was so ill. We took turns holding her hand and trying to make her more comfortable.
By the next day she was feeling much better. The poor little lady. She doesn’t have much to live for. She counts the hours until it is bedtime then counts the hours until morning when she can get up. I feel so sorry for her but she stays amazingly cheerful.
On Feb 21st we bid Mama & Jean goodbye and drove to Mesa, Arizona. Jean had stayed with our cousin, June Young and her husband, Clifford, who rent a house across from the temple. She made arrangements for us to stay there also. I hadn’t seen my cousin for almost 40 years. She & Clifford welcomed us warmly and were so kind (Feb 21, 1983). We went to 2 sessions at the temple the following morning and toured the visitor center there. It was a lovely experience.
That afternoon we visited Allene Hill Gibson and her family, then went to see Karla Graham Crockett and family and stayed the night there. They are two lovely nieces with fine families. Early the next morning we left Phoenix, drove all day through desert country and arrived in Bakersfield, California where we stayed the night. On Feb 24th we drove through miles & miles of orange groves, cherry & plum orchards in bloom & drove into Sequoia Nat’l Park. It was such a lovely time of year to be in that area. Great clouds hung over the mountains so we didn’t go very far into the park. We drove on through the center of the San Joaquin Valley, crossed over the mountains to San Jose on a back country road. The scenery was beautiful, the roads narrow and winding. It took us 3 hrs to go 50 miles. We were warmly welcomed when we arrived here in San Jose. Paul told his grandpa, “Gwumpa, I’ve missed you for a week.” Scott was in Texas but was welcomed home the next day. We have been happily received by many neighbors and members and that makes us feel good. We’ve been put to work with Church activities. We’ve also been busy filling out more job applications. Leland will personally deliver one to U. of CA at Santa Cruz tomorrow or the next day.
One of these days we’ll have a job and we can quit filling out applications and typing resumes. That will be wonderful!


March 6, 1983

Yesterday, March 5, 1983 was a special day for us. Lisa was baptized. We went to the stake center of San Jose East Stake at 3:30 so she could be “signed in.” At 4:00 we had a program, 2 talks given by 2 sisters to the 8 children in the stake being baptized. Lisa was baptized by her father Scott. I had made her a long white dress and she looked like a little angel. She will be confirmed today by her father, with her grandpa, Leland, assisting.
We have had severe rainstorms this year in this area with a lot of flooding. It is a beautiful morning this Sabbath day. Maybe things will start to dry out a little. Several family members have called to see if we are in the flood areas. They have seen the reports on the television. We luckily, have been on higher ground. Many people have lost their homes.


March 27, 1983

On March 8th we got a letter from LaDell in Ogden with a lot of information about the job at Weber State College. We decided to make a trip out to Ogden and visit with as many of the search committee people at the college as we could. After consulting with Scott & Lorraine we decided to take Paul with us. He was very excited and the girls were disappointed that they couldn’t go too. We packed up a few things, made a bed in the back of the station wagon for Paul and left about 11:00 am on Tuesday the 9th. Paul was so excited about seeing the snow and could hardly wait. It was several hours before we even saw the snow capped mountains and longer still to reach the snow. It was his first time to see the snow and he wanted to tell everybody. “Wait’ll I tell Ann & Lisa”, & “Linda”, & “Uncle Craig”, etc. When we stopped and let him slide down it, make a snow ball, etc. He commented that he’s like it better if it wasn’t quite so cold. He enjoyed seeing the Truckee River of white water cascading down the canyon and said “I’ll never stop looking at that river”. When the excitement of the snow was past as we entered Nevada he wanted to shoot Grandpa’s 22 rifle. We told him we’d have to wait until we were away from all houses and people. It got dark before we found such a place. He got a little uneasy riding along in the dark and kept asking when I was going to stop driving. When I stopped and got in the back with him he looked at me with such a happy “isn’t this a good adventure,” look and settled down to sleep. Leland drove all night. The next morning he found a place to shoot the gun so I woke Paul and asked him if he wanted to shoot the gun and his response was “I’ll get the bullets”. He was excited to be able to shoot his Grandpa’s rifle. We arrived in Provo and delivered a load of food to Fiona Every, Lorraine’s sister. We had a short visit there while Paul played with his little cousins, Adelaide & Joshua. Then we drove on to Salt Lake City. That didn’t mean anything to Paul until we told him that was where the prophet lives (March 9th).
We stopped at Wylis, Leland had a nap and we had a visit and some lunch. Paul had fun swinging on the swings in her backyard. He said, “This is what we need, a big back-a-ard and a big swing”.
Later in the day we went to Bountiful and found Raymond recovering well from his back surgery. We had a nice visit and Paul checked out the creek and the total neighborhood. It was Linda’s birthday. Craig had a computer show in SLC so he took Linda & Celia down and they showed Barry Scheinost around temple square and the Lion House. That evening the 4 of them came out to “Uncle Raymond’s for birthday cake.” Everyone new we were there except Linda. We put our car in the garage and stayed downstairs when they arrived. They sent Linda downstairs first and was she ever surprised to see us. She cried and hugged us, and hugged us and cried. Barry introduced himself to us amid her tears. She hugged Paul and cried. She had taken care of Paul when he was 2 yrs old and is very found of him. So it was a joyous evening. We spent the night in Bountiful and C & C & Linda went on home to Pocatello. Barry returned to Salt Lake. We were well impressed with him.
The next day we drove to Ogden and Leland started visiting people at the college while Paul & I stayed at LaDell’s. LaDell had me help her put on a quilt she’d pieced (I’d given her the pieces years before; Wylis gave them to me). We put on the quilt and spent 2 days quilting while Leland interviewed. The only fly in the ointment of Paul’s stay there was that their little old dog bit his finger. He played with a bunch of 2nd cousins, LaDell’s grandchildren. He was such a good boy everywhere we went and won everyone’s hearts.
On Saturday morning we drove to Pocatello, went to Nyle’s house, had breakfast and visited with Leland’s parents before Nyle took them back to Malta. We had dinner there and then Nyle took them home. Dad Hepworth (Grandpa Joe as he’s called by the grandkids) was so pleased to see Paul and he had a nice time with him. Mother wasn’t well and isn’t herself. We felt bad to see her so bad off.
We spent the afternoon with C & C and Linda got off work to have supper with all of us. We stayed at Linda’s. Paul slept on the floor by Aunt Linda, other nights he slept in his sleeping bag by the side of our bed. (The first morning, at Bountiful, he cried a little for Mama & Daddy but otherwise was so very happy and contented.)
We had told him about Alexa, Celia’s dog, and that she wouldn’t bite him. When we pulled up in front of the house and Alexa started jumping and barking, he kept saying “I’m not going to be afraid”. Alexa almost overpowered him with her size and her enthusiasm but she didn’t bite him.
We went to church with our kids in Pocatello 24th Ward. We’ve attended church there a lot this year, and went back to Ogden that evening.
Leland visited the rest of the people at the college and Monday evening we went back to Bountiful. We left for home early Tuesday morning, drove across Nevada, and stopped at Carson City. Leland wanted to check out the community college there where he’d put in an application. Paul and I waited in the building while he visited around with president, etc. Paul was playing on the stairway when a man with a puppy came by and smelled at him and licked him (Paul). He came over later and told me that it was probably because the dog was only a little white (it was gray & black with white splotches) that it didn’t bite him. LaDell’s biting dog was a white dog. That’s good logic!
We came home on Wednesday after staying overnight in Carson City. We came around Lake Tahoe which is beautiful, the casinos at So. Tahoe which aren’t, a lot more snow and several mudslides. We came through San Joaquin Valley and found many orchards and fields underwater.
Paul was delighted to be home, played nicely with his sisters and generally has been better behaved. The individual special attention was so good for him.
We have since sent off the application to Weber State College. We would like to live there if the Lord wants us to work there. Leland is presently working on the application for CSI in Twin Falls.
Scott & Lorraine left Wednesday, the 23rd for 12 days in Hawaii. Leland & I are taking care of things here, mainly the children. Sharon & I & Paul have caught colds, but we have a lot of planned activities this week with Lisa & Ann out of school. We hope the rain and colds will cooperate by leaving us, (We’ve had 59 days of rain out of the last 65 days).


June 26, 1983

What a shame that I have neglected my journal for so long. We have been busy. Scott & Lorraine signed the lease for some property for the store. They will hope to be ready to open the doors of their store by September 1st. I am trying to help out here at home so that Lorraine can devote as much time as she can.
I have had a flu bug and been sick the past two weeks. So it has been rather hard to take care of the children under those circumstances. Generally it has been a very rewarding experience. Sharon is such a delightful baby! She will be 19 months old Friday on July 1st. She is at such a cute age and learning new words and things every day. She calls Grandpa Bapa and can say all the children’s names except Lisa, which seems a little hard for her. She copies what she sees others do. When the children get out of the swimming pool and lie down on a towel she does the same thing. One day I kicked a rock. She can’t yet lift one foot off the ground (unless walking) but she scooted her feet around trying so very hard to kick a rock.

My brother, Ed, a stake Patriarch in St Paul, Min. got special permission to fly down to give our mama a blessing of release. She has been so ill for so long. He did this on June 12th. We all wonder how long it will be before that blessing can be fulfilled. Bless her heart, she has suffered so much. We all pray that it won’t be too much longer. She is 94 years old now. She can’t walk, can’t see, can hear very little. She keeps a cheerful spirit in spite of all her suffering. She is so loved by so many.


Aug. 16, 1983

Well what I thought was the flu turned out to be more complicated-On July 14th I went to a gastroenterologist and found out I had a rectal tumor. Of course I was quite upset although after being in so much pain for so long and having such severe diarrhea I knew I had some problems. I think mostly, that day I was distressed at the thought of all the money it was going to cost, which would come out of our savings. Scott immediately started checking and arranged for us to be on the Kaiser plan, the health plan his family has, and that very night I was taken to the emergency room at Kaiser hospital and they started me on an IV since I was already starting to dehydrate. They took tests until 2:00am before putting me to bed. All the time my dear sweet husband was waiting around wondering how I was doing. I was given such good care. After they diagnosed the rectal tumor they scheduled surgery for July 21st, giving me several days to be prepared for the surgery for the best results. I was in the operating room for 5 ½ hrs. The tumor was malignant and they also found cancer in the uterus. So I ended up with a colostomy and a hysterectomy. I feel like I owe my life to the skill and gentle care of Drs LaPore and Kernahan, and know that the Lord blessed me so very greatly. I have never felt before the results of so much faith and so many prayers offered in my behalf, and I know I wouldn’t be here now if it hadn’t been for the blessings of the Lord. I healed quickly. The doctors told Leland I had exceeded all their expectations in that regard. I was able to leave the hospital on July 30th. Linda flew out from Pocatello on the 29th and was here to help me get home from the hospital. Celia & Craig drove out, arriving Aug 3rd, and all their sweet ministrations and expressions of love were so much appreciated. I also felt the same love and concern from both my dear sons and their families. I am blessed with such wonderful children. All of my brothers & sisters and my mama, as well as Leland’s family have shown such love and concern.
My visiting teacher in Karen Haney, the wife of our stake president, Leo Haney. They very generously offered the use of a bedroom and bath they had prepared when her mother was ill. Since coming back to Scott’s home involved climbing the stairs we accepted Haney’s offer. So when I came from the hospital I was taken to Haney’s home where I stayed for 2 weeks and 2 days. They were so very kind to us (Leland stayed there with me).
I developed an abscess in the rectal stitches and had to go back to have that treated. That slowed down my progress somewhat but the doctor said it wasn’t really a backset that it was quite a common occurrence. Tomorrow I go back for a final ( I hope) check on that and then to the Palo Alto clinic to find out about the radiation therapy that will begin soon. I will be very glad to have all of it behind me. I am gaining strength every day and know that I am going to be well again. Leland tells me that I have been brave. I appreciate him thinking that because many times I have not felt that way.
But I do know that the Lord had blessed me, from day to day and from hour to hour as I have called out to him. I also have a strong testimony that the Lord is looking after us, that he loves us and cares about us and will continue to bless us if we do our part. Oh, I want to keep eternal life as the mark and goal to which I strive.
This time has also been difficult for others of our family. Our concern for my sister, Wylis, who has lung cancer and for our poor little Mama has kept us praying for them also.


Sept 7, 1983

Well, I am into the radiation therapy by now. I have had 7 treatments – 18 more to go. I went to the Palo Alto Clinic Aug 22nd expecting the first treatment but found instead that I had to be measured. They drew pictures on my back, gave me 3 small “tattoos” and sent me home. It took almost an hour and was a very uncomfortable experience as I had to hold perfectly still and that is difficult for me. On the 25th I went back for more “measuring” and then x-rays and finally started treatments on Aug 29th. So far it hasn’t been too bad. I get tired easily; I had a little nausea but the doctor gave me some medication to help and it has. If it doesn’t get any worse I’ll handle it alright. I guess I will handle it, in any case, but I’ll be glad if the side effects don’t get any worse. Going to Palo Alto every day during rush hour traffic isn’t easy.
I’m so grateful for my dear Leland. He’s been so good to me.


Sept 7, 1983

Sharon is at such a delightful age right now. She is 21 months old. She calls her grandpa, “Bampa” and she calls me “Gong-ah”. She tries to say everything now. I told her that Lisa was busy doing homework and couldn’t play for a while. She started saying “Bee-sy” “Beesy”. Today Ann was undressing her to take her swimming. She started playing with her toes, as we have done, “This little piggy went to Market”. Ann started to play it with her and she said “No, Mine” and started in “Piggy-Piggy-Piggy,” on her own toes. Such an adorable baby.
The older children started school on Tuesday, Ann – 5th grade, Lisa – 3rd grade, and Paul – kindergarten. They all seem to be happy and doing well.
Lorraine is so busy working to get the store started.
I am very lazy!


Oct 4, 1983

My dear mother passed away early this morning. Jean called to tell me. She had had pneumonia and had finished a course of medication and seemed somewhat better on Monday, the 3rd, but after a bad night she peacefully passed away. Oh, what a dear mother she had been. She was one who truly had mother love. We, her children, always knew she loved us no matter what. Her only fault could have been said to be that she could never see any fault in any of us. I can remember as a child wanting to be as good a mother as my mama was. She was an excellent cook, such a sweet loving person, a clean person, she couldn’t stand the thought of anyone touching the food with dirty hands, and she always put her family first. Her example in the past decade of her cheerful attitude in spite of losing her hearing and her eyesight and being unable to walk, had been such a good one for all who knew her. My first thoughts on hearing of her passing were of how happy Daddy must be to have her with him again, and then almost immediately afterwards, “Now she can walk again, and see and hear, and she won’t be sick anymore”. What a dear sweet mother she was to me and oh, how I love her. The world will seem and emptier place without her.
She will be buried Oct 7, 1983, one day before her 75 wedding anniversary, in El Paso, Texas beside my daddy.

October 7, 1983

My brothers and sisters are now gathering at the funeral home in El Paso, Texas for the services to honor our dear mother. Oh, how I wish I could be there.
Leland & I are driving to Palo Alto, CA to the clinic for my last radiation therapy treatment. I wanted to share my thoughts of my mother as others will be at this time so far away from here. I am sitting in the car reminiscing about my mama and my earliest recall. She always had beautiful flowers. Every home we lived in was made beautiful by her love for flowers. She worked so very hard and each night my daddy would rub her poor swollen ankle that she had broken in her youth that was never set properly. She walked for years on that broken ankle and worked so hard. I was born when mother was 39 so I never remember her as young but I remember watching the gray come into her hair and being fearful that when it was all white she would die. We never thought she’d live to be 94 years old.
She was always such a good mother to me and loved me so very much. I may have wearied her with my almost continual “I love you, Mama” but she always responded with “and I love you too, honey mae”. She called me “Peachie Pie Bloom” and “Honey Mae”.
I have wished in the years since that I had worked harder to show my love. I liked to read and she let me read while she did the work. She was what I can truly call a selfless person.
My mother was a well-educated person who would always insist that we use proper grammar. I have her to thank for my good grades in English. She had a spectacular memory for detail and always wanted to learn new things.
After my daddy died in 1960 Mother spent her remaining years with her children. We remember so well our special times with her as she visited us. We took her one summer to Moscow, Idaho where Leland was in graduate school at the U of I. We delighted in taking her to see beautiful wild flowers, lovely lakes and flowing white water. She was always so appreciative of beautiful scenery. A drive through Glacier Park kept her gasping over the beauty.
Leland and I sat in the car in front of the clinic, had a prayer and sang “Oh, My Father”. I sang what I could remember of “Beyond the Sunset”. That was sung at my Daddy’s funeral, and I think it was to have been sung for Mama’s. Then I said another prayer. It made us feel like we were participating.

I am so glad the radiation is completed. The therapist said I graduated. How grateful I am that I was able to get past that big hurdle. I am grateful for life. I want to live with Leland for a long time yet.


Nov. 27, 1983

I am back in the hospital but should be able to go home tomorrow. Once again, I give thanks for health, and hope I don’t do this again. After a delicious Thanksgiving dinner I had such abdominal pain that I had to come to the hospital. For 2 days and 3 nights I had a tube from my nose to my stomach. I had bowel blockage but it was remedied without surgery for which I am very grateful. Oh, how I do pray that soon I can be well and Leland can have a job.
On Leland’s birthday the 8th, he was in Salt Lake City and went to see Elder Vaughn Featherstone. He was much buoyed up and strengthened. Elder Featherstone had our names entered onto a list to be prayed for in the brethrens Thursday night prayer circle. I was so humbled by this and very grateful.


Jan 14, 1984

Leland got a phone call from the Church Employment office in Salt Lake City and we left to go to an interview for a job. It was snowy across northern Nevada and the Salt Lake was flowing over its banks and over the highway. We went to Wylis’ home in Midvale where we stayed two nights. Wylis was in a great deal of pain from the bone scan tests for cancer. She is just waiting for daughter Julie to come home from her mission in Honduras the end of March.
On Jan 17th Leland went to interview. All of Church offices were closed at 11:00 am for the funeral of Elder Mark E. Peterson. After his interview we drove to Pocatello where we stayed a few days with Linda, and ate our meals with Celia & Craig. We went to Malta for a couple of days and then on to Boise where we were warmly welcomed by our grandchildren, Craig, Brian & Heather. We spent 8 days with them. While in Boise we found a cute little car for Linda. She had received a promotion at ZCMI and needed a car with her new schedule.
We played games with the grandsons. Craig invited me to go to school and eat lunch with him. I was pleased that he was so proud to have his grandma come to school. Lots of boys his age would have been embarrassed to come to school but he treated me royally.
We went to a Stake Conference in Boise at the University field house where they divided 2 stakes and made 3. Elder Ezra Taft Benson presided and we thrilled to listen to him talk about the experience he had as president of Boise Stake and of his experiences with the Jewish people.
We drove back to Pocatello with Linda’s little car and found Linda very sick with the “Russian flu”. Celia had it also and was still recovering. I took care of Linda for a few days while Leland made another trip to SLC to check on the job there. (There were 10 very good applicants. They had a hard time making the decision, but Leland didn’t get the job)
The following week we drove to Afton, Wyo and stayed 6 days with Verna & Glen. This was a pleasant time for us.


Written March 19th, 1984

Verna was involved with a project of making quilts for her grandchildren, and with Glen’s grandchildren she had 36. She has 10 made. So we put a quilt on and started quilting. We quilted and visited for 3 days. Then I asked her if she’d seen any of the gingham tied quilts using yarn and embroidery stitches. She hadn’t but said, “Let’s go get some fabric and make one”. It was Saturday at 5:00 when we reached the store and it was locked, but a man opened the door and said, “Can I help you, Verna”. I guess everyone in Afton knows Verna. Well, we got red gingham, red backing, & white yarn and went home and put it on and tied the border, so we could roll it up and put it out of the way over Sunday. On Monday we worked all day and finished it. Verna was delighted.
Verna teaches the Gospel Doctrine class in Grower Ward. We always enjoy going to Church there.
The 22nd of Feb
On Tuesday we went back to Pocatello. We stayed a few days there, then left for Malta to pick up Grandpa and Grandma and take them to Ogden to the doctor. We had a very eventful trip. We had a ground blizzard as we drove through American Falls, Idaho, but we saw blue sky as we approached Barley. We didn’t dare take the cut off through Raft River because of the snow so we stayed on the Interstate. We had just turned off toward the Ogden highway when we were stopped by the highway dept and told that the roads were all closed and it would be 3 or 4 hours before it was opened. We went back to Rupert and visited Eldon & Esther Chandler, Leland’s uncle & aunt and, also went to the hospital to visit Leland’s Aunt Flossie in the nursing home section. When we went back out to the highway we still had to wait 2 hours before the road was opened. We finally saw traffic moving on the Declo road so we went back and through Declo to Malta. A trip that usually takes 1 ½ hrs, took us about 7 or 8. We stayed that night in Malta and took Grandpa & Grandma on to Ogden the next morning, Thursday 24th. We left them in Ogden and went to Bountiful to see Raymond & Lucille. On Friday we went to Logan and went through the temple there. On Saturday we went to the Jordan River Temple. We made some chicken noodle soup for Wylis, & Vonnie, who had pneumonia. Wylis was not feeling well but we had a nice visit.
My nephew, Bob, had taken Leland’s resume to the Freeman Institute where he works, and they held a meeting on the 27th and decided they might be interested in Leland as the prospective director of the Freeman Institute for the state of Idaho. (They called Leland on our return, March 15th, and expressed their interest) We didn’t leave Utah until Feb 28th. We discovered that March 10th was to be Grandpa & Grandma, Joseph & Lona Chandler Hepworth’s, 60th wedding anniversary and they were desirous of us having a party for them. So we rearranged our plans to stay another week. We took them back to Malta and went on to Pocatello, for another stay. When we arrived in Pocatello we received some very good news, that Celia & Craig were expecting a baby. After 6 ½ years of waiting and applying for adoption this was such a joy to all of us. (Unfortunately, it was not to last long. On March 17th she had a miscarriage and this brought great sorrow to all of her family. We are praying that they will be able to adopt a baby soon.)
We went to Malta on Saturday March 3rd, went to Malta Ward on Sunday where we met a lot of old friends we knew when we lived there so many years before. On Monday Grandma & I put on a quilt she had pieced the winter before and quilted it in 2 days.
We had a nice visit with them, and on Thursday the 8th, we took them to Pocatello, where we had the celebration for them on Saturday, at Nyle’s home. Nyle had taken a bad fall from his truck, dislocated his shoulder, etc. so we couldn’t have held it elsewhere.


March 19, 1984

On March 12th we left Pocatello, took the folks back to Malta, left there and arrived that evening in Elko, Nevada. We spent 2 nights and a day there, checking job possibilities. On Wednesday we drove to Eureka to check on a job and then on to Reno. It was too late to go over the summit so we stayed in Reno for the night and made our slippery way over Donner summit the next morning. It was snowy and slick. We were glad we had good snow tires that we’d bought in Pocatello.
Before noon we were in Sacramento where we delivered Donelle’s Christmas presents to her sister, Kathleen. By 2:30 we were back in San Jose where Lisa was just home from school and Ann soon arrived. They were so pleased to see us and that made us feel good. Sharon was so glad to see us. She went up to her Grandpa and said, “You’re still Grandpa, and I’m still Sharon”. She has really learned lots of words and puts sentences together very well now.


April 15, 1984

On the 9th of April I went to Kaiser to get the results of all my tests. I had taken a CAT Scan and a kidney x-ray and a bunch of blood tests. The blood tests showed and indication of the return of the cancer, so they ordered the x-rays. We had been praying that the test results would be in my favor. Leland was in Pocatello and he and Celia & Craig and Linda were all fasting for me. I had tried to pray that the Lord’s will might be done but I was still disappointed to hear that the tests showed a mass in the rectal area and a spot on the liver and one blocked kidney.
I called Leland that Monday evening and he was very distressed. He and Linda packed up and left that night at midnight and drove straight through, 1000 miles, arriving Tuesday night. I was so glad to see him. Everything is so much easier to take if I have him with me. He is my eternal companion and so very precious to me.


April 16, 1984

The doctor wants to do chemotherapy but I refused it. He said it would only be 7% - 20% effective. I had read books on helping yourself with diet so decided I’d try that. I prayed for help to know how to go about it and the next day Leland & Linda were in the library and Linda found a book that she remembered her Aunt Lucille having. It talked about a “juice fast” to rid your body of diseased cells. So I’ve decided to try it. I am now on my 5th day of it and I think it is going to be effective. I’m very optimistic about it.
We took Linda to Oakland this morning and put her on a plane to return to Pocatello. Her 5 day stay here was lovely for us but her allergies bothered her so much that she was glad to be leaving. I think she’ll appreciate Pocatello more now.
Celia & Craig are trying for a job in Missouri. I hate to think of them being so much farther away but want what’s best for them.


April 24, 1984

I only stayed on the juice fast for one week. I lost so much weight (10 lbs) that I decided against going any longer. I was disappointed when I started to eat again to start having abdominal pain. After three days on grains and vegetables and three days of pain I decided to blend my food and see if that helped. It is better but I still have the pains. I feel like it is going to take a miracle for me to be well again. I do believe in miracles and I would like to have one. If I am appointed unto death I must accept that. Only the Lord knows and I must put my trust in Him.


May 20, 1984

Today the 20th Ward had a special fast for me. I feel very humble to have so many people fasting and praying for me. I number of people have told us what a special experience it has been for them and for the Ward.
Last Sunday Brother Willard Wall gave me a blessing, and promised me my miracle. He told me to stand by Leland through this time of job searching (which I fully intend to do) and that in years to come we would look back on this time and see the reasons for all of it.
I know that since that blessing when a negative thought starts to come to my mind, it’s like my mind is on automatic and it automatically detours away. It’s very unusual. I have been able to be much more positive all week.
I had to stop eating brown rice. I guess my body it used to wheat and not rice. I’ve been feeling much better since doing so.


May 20, 1984

My sister Wylis is dying in Salt Lake City. We are waiting to hear of it. We will fly out to SLC for the services. I felt bad to miss my Mama’s services. I hope dear Wylis doesn’t have to live long in such pain as she is in. Jean, flew up from Hatch and is helping Vonnie & Julie take care of her at home. I have a good family. They have all expressed love and concern for me. Thanks to loving relatives my name is on the temple prayer rolls in about 8 temples. I am very blessed!
We also received a letter from Elder Featherstone telling us that he had put my name on the special prayer roll by the General Authorities. That makes me feel very humble! I will be well again!

June 27, 1984

Wylis passed away May 26th very quietly. Leland & I flew out to SLC on the 28th, Memorial Day and the services were on the 29th. She was buried beside Orvil in a lovely cemetery overlooking the valley in Sandy, Utah.
On Monday afternoon all of my brothers and sisters and their companions, except Val & Betty May, met and had such a good visit. It was a lovely time for us. Everyone showed great love and concern for me. I have such a fine family.
After the services on Tuesday we went back to Raymond & Lucille’s new condominium where we were staying. Ed gave me a blessing which I appreciated. Then Linda took us to Pocatello. We stopped in Ogden for a brief time to visit.
I was pretty tired by the time we got to Pocatello. The Lord really blessed me to make it through those two days of activity; but it took me a few days to rest up. I rested and read and Linda worked diligently to get some different food to tempt my appetite. We stayed there almost 2 weeks. Leland wanted to go to the Babbitt reunion so Linda & I took him to Malta on Friday the 7th and went back to get him on the 9th and went to Church with Grandpa and Grandma.
On June 2nd Clyde and Donelle and the kids came over from Boise and spent the day. We had a nice visit. G & G came over from Malta too. With Craig’s help on the barbeque grill we put together food for everybody. It was good to see Clyde and his family.
On June 15th Craig & Celia took us to Ogden where we stayed overnight and on Saturday we went to Bountiful, and on Monday the 18th we flew back to San Jose where Scott met us.
We had the opportunity to go to the Idaho Falls Temple and do sealings for Craig’s family. That was special.


July 1, 1984

I bore my testimony today in Church. I wanted to thank the people who had fasted for me. Afterwards Sister Brower thanked me. She said her 6 yr old Adam prays for me at every mealtime or prayer he offers and he was so pleased when his dad told him that I was Sister Hepworth. That pleased me.
I went to the doctor on Friday. It takes a lot of courage to go to an oncologist. Since they work always with cancer patients I’m sure they get used to it but it always has such a negative influence on me. They are so certain that I will die. They gave me 6 months to a year. They don’t understand about the power of the priesthood. If the Lord wants me to live longer than that, I will. What ever is in store for me, I must stay cheerful and must take it one day at a time. I must try to do all that I can to be of service to others and do all I can to help myself. If I do that, when I do meet my Savior I will know I’ve done my best.




July 15, 1984

Our Celia called today to celebrate her birth with us. She was 32 years old today. She has always been a source of joy and pride in our lives. Linda called also to see how I am doing. I was able to tell her I’m doing fine. I’ve been happy and positive today. I gave the invocation in Sacrament meeting. That was a privilege.
This afternoon Kitty Markley came and we went Visiting Teaching to Margene Wall. We had just been visiting for a few minutes when Willard Wall came in. He & Margene had buoyed me up a few weeks ago when I had been discouraged. He suggested that I come home, and write my goals and tell the Lord my wishes. That I must know how long I want to live and what quality of life I want. So - - - -

Goals

These are my goals the yearning and righteous desires of my heart. I must endeavor to put them in writing.
I want to live! I want to have a good quality of life! I want to be able to live without pain pills! I want to be able to eat more variety of good food. I want to be able to enjoy eating again, and eat without having pain.
I want to be able to move to Reno where Leland will have a job and where we can have a home. I want Linda to have a home with us and finish her schooling.
I want to be well and able when Celia has a baby so I can take care of her and help her. I want to be there when Linda is married to the special companion the Lord has for her. I want to be able to help take care of her babies, too.
I want to be a companion and help meet to Leland for many years! I want to help him in starting a new job, and when he has worked as long as he can, I want to serve a mission with him!
I don’t know how many years this will be. I just know I want to be here as long as he needs me.*
These are the yearnings and the righteous desires of my heart!

*As long as I can be useful. I want to be able to do temple work and genealogy and I want to be busy accomplishing worthwhile things.


July 22, 1984

Tuesday night, for our stake Pioneer Day Celebration we are putting on a Ward pioneer skit. Our family is in the cast and I’m the star! How about that. I am the great grandma. I will have my hair powdered (it isn’t that gray yet!) and sit in a rocking chair on one end of the stage. Lorraine comes in with the three girls Ann, Lisa & Sharon who are in swimming suits on their way to go swimming and try to coax me to go with them. I read them a story from my “journal” (make-believe) and they leave to go swimming while I browse through my journal. I read excerpts from my journal while Scott & Ann and two neighbors act out the incidents. I think it will turn out quite well. I enjoy acting and I’m pleased that I can participate. I made Ann & Pat sunbonnets for the play and a long dress for Ann. I made Lisa a dress & matching sunbonnet so she can wear it in the parade that evening.


July 24, 1984

We put on our skit and were told that it was very well done. The audience was noisy at first so that Lisa’s and Ann’s first lines weren’t heard. They tried so hard to say them loudly. Anyway, it’s done! It was fun. I was in so much pain last night at our dress rehearsal that I wondered if I’d be able to do it. The Lord has blessed me! Again!


Aug. 4, 1984

About a week ago I started taking Peasocet (sic) the stronger pain pill that Dr Yee gave me. I had started having bad intestinal cramps, like the blockage pain, every time I ate anything. I decided if it was a choice of not eating, or taking the medication, that I’d do it. I’ve been told by lots of people that the Lord gave us these things for our use and I shouldn’t feel bad about using it. It has surely improved the quality of my life. I feel good as long as I take the medication and have been able to eat more.
Yesterday Scott & Lorraine left to go to Monterey for the weekend to celebrate his birthday and their anniversary. The children are “farmed out”. Paul is staying with Grays, Lisa & Sharon are at San Miguel’s, Ann is spending the day with Laura. She stayed at home last night to take care of the dog. They will all come home tonight to be here for church. Scott & Lorraine will come home tomorrow.
On Monday we will leave to go to Afton, Wyoming to stay with Verna. We are praying that Leland will be called to interview for the job in Reno. If we get that job he will come back and move our things to Reno. If not, we will stay in Afton.
Lorraine has asked me to make some tapes for the children and some of my life story. I made up one of the children my recollections, and my aspirations for them. Today I’ll start taping some of my experiences. That’s enjoyable.
I have used these last weeks here, to make school clothes for the girls, and to make Ann & Lisa quilts for their bunk beds. I tied yellow gingham quilts and on the back I embroidered their names and, Love, Grandma 1984. I put them on their beds. When they came home and found them (the embroidered note; they’d helped to tie the quilts) they came into my room to tearfully tell me they loved me and to thank me. They are appreciative little kids of the things I do.


Aug. 4, 1984

I’ll pack my book away now and get busy with the packing, as we want to load the car today. I put Linda’s bumper sticker on the car. It says “Old quilters never die, they just go to pieces.”


Aug 21, 1984

We are in Afton and so pleased to be here. It is lovely. Any direction you look is a lovely view, so green, surrounded by mountains, so cool, so quiet, the air is so clear.
We left San Jose Aug 6th. We stopped in Reno to leave our Afton phone number and then drove on through the night and arrived in Malta about 8:00 am. Leland stopped for about 45 minutes at a rest stop and slept a little. I slept comfortably in my nice bed in the back all night, while my sweet-heart drove. He had been so good to me. After we visited with Mom & Dad, had a nice dinner and Leland rested awhile we went on to Pocatello.
Celia & Craig were prepared for us; they gave us their bed and window fan so although the days were hot we slept well. The Hepworth reunion, Joe & Lona’s was scheduled for the 11th, the following Saturday. So we stayed in Pocatello for that. I remodeled a dress for Celia, shortened a couple and made her a little cotton 2 piece dress. I also fashioned 4 pair of shoes out of fabric for them to use over shoes to protect their hard wood floors.
We had some good visits. I especially enjoyed some talks with my daughters where we all felt very close to each other and the spirit. We know that whatever the future brings that we will feel that closeness of spirit. They are such lovely girls.
The parting from Scott and Lorraine and the children was a heart wrenching one for all of us. We knew there was the possibility that would be the last time we might see each other on this earth and it can’t help but effect us all. Lisa cried as I knew she would. Ann ran out by the swimming pool to wave goodbye again as we drove out. Scott had stayed home from work to be there when we left. It was a tender time for us all.
We enjoyed seeing LaDell and Lynn and 3 of their children and all their grandchildren at the reunions. We had some nice visits. Everyone was excited about Celia’s article in the Ensign – entitled “Old Wood,” August 1984. We are so proud of her. All the family was.
On Monday, the 13th we came on over here to Star Valley. Verna and Glen have fixed things up so nicely for us. They made a lovely little kitchen so we can fix some of our meals. We have such peace and comfort. I just hope I can feel well enough to enjoy it.
We went to the store and got a lot of gingham and started tying quilts. We have tied 5 so far. I made a pink one that will be for Heather, an apricot baby quilt for Linda to put in her hope chest, and a yellow one
August 21, 1984
for Celia , the last 2 had a puppy in the middle. We made a blue one for Paul with a cowboy on it and will make another pink one, this one for Sharon. It has been fun.
Verna gave us such a warm welcome and has done everything possible to make things nice for us. They have been so good.
Linda came over from Pocatello on Thursday night because she had Friday off. We had such a good time until I got sick on Friday afternoon and was wiped out. She went back Saturday morning to go to work and found out she had Monday off so she came back Sat. night and spent two more days. She went to Church with us. I made it through all my meetings and was glad. If we don’t get a job soon we’ll have our ward membership sent here.
Leland got an encouraging letter from Alaska so now he & Linda are excited about that. I hope he’ll have a good job soon.


October 29, 1984

I hadn’t realized it had been so long since I’d written in my journal. I’ve been negligent even if I haven’t had much to write. Time has moved along. My disease has progressed. I’ve spent much time with pain and nausea. I keep asking the Lord to help me through this time and I keep making it through. Three weeks ago I went to the hospital and they put an epidural catheter into my back (spine) and have since been receiving morphine as a pain killer. It worked well for 13 days, then it walled off and had to be changed to another spot. Since that time (one week) I seem to have built up my tolerance for the morphine and it has been a continuous struggle to find the right amount to give me the pain relief I need.
I hope the Lord isn’t displeased but I have been asking him to call me home, as Leland says “on my mission”. I would like to go soon. I no longer have much to contribute here.


Oct 30, 1984

I just gave Leland a haircut. He’d gone quite awhile without one so he was pleased. I managed to stand long enough to accomplish it.
I am feeling better today. Hopefully we have the medication adjusted now though we expect to keep increasing it as time goes by. I enjoyed the 2 weeks, pain free, when I was able to eat anything I wanted. Now I realize that I must be careful of what I eat and give myself all the advantage I can, but oh my! it was fun to eat! I gained 10 lbs in 10 days.
Our children have been wonderful. Scott & Clyde call and keep close touch and Celia & Craig & Linda have been coming over a lot, taking turns on weekends. Now that bad weather is coming on I think all 3 are planning to come together this weekend. I’m so grateful for my good children.
My brothers and sisters have also been outstanding in their love & concern. They all call about once a week.


Oct 30, 1984

I have been able to do some crocheting as I lie here. I made a baby sweater, bonnet and 2 pair of booties for Celia & Craig’s baby. How I do hope the adoption agency will soon call and tell them they have a baby. They will be such good parents.
I am proud of all our children. My heart goes out to Celia & Craig in their childless condition. They have struggled so and have accepted the will of the Lord. They are good people.
My heart goes out to Linda. My “mission call” will be the hardest for her, I think, as she is alone. She is so lonely, and so undecided what to do with her life. How I pray for the Lord to bless her. I’m grateful that she desires to serve the Lord. She is such a special person with a special mission to perform.
Clyde & Donelle and the children came over to visit Conference week-end. It has been very hard for Clyde to accept the fact that his mother isn’t getting better. He has always been such a tender big fellow. We had lots of tears that weekend as well as some very uplifting talks. I’m so proud of the way he handles his children. He is firm & loving a good father. They have good children. Oh, how I do love them all!
Scott called a few weeks ago on a Saturday so all the children could talk to me. Sharon asked, “Grandma, when are you going to come home?” It was hard to know what to answer. Bless her little heart, she has been so special to me. They each have in their own sweet special way. I am so pleased with all my children and grandchildren. They are the best in the world. Scott & Lorraine have been so good to us. Each one of our children has been so full of love and concern. How I do love each one of them!


Oct 30, 1984

At this time I want to tell my children and my grandchildren how much I love my Heavenly Father and my Savior. I am so very grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and for his sacrifice for me. I have felt so many times in my life, His love for me, often when I felt least deserving of it. I am so grateful to be his daughter through baptism, so grateful for the knowledge I have of the Plan of Salvation and for the hope we have in Christ for eternal life. I do not fear death but look forward to my “mission call”. I write this testimony, expressing appreciation for all my blessings. At the top of the list of my blessings, is my dear eternal companion. What a source of strength and courage Leland has been. He has worked so tirelessly to take care of me. This has been a hard time for him. Thanks to dear Verna & Glen we have had a good place to stay. They have all been so good to me. I am much blessed.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.