My Life History
I was born October 4, 1901 in my grandparent’s home, Jane and Benjamin Evans. It was a red-brick house on the same block where the Malad First Ward Chapel now stands.
I was the most beautiful baby in the county at that time. My parents, Francis and Hannah Deschamps, wouldn’t show me to anyone only by special admission, the proceeds of which went to buy their first white-topped buggy! In a few month’s time, the customers began to fall off and finally, they asked for their money back! I still can’t figure out why.
We always say that we live in a home. Well, the home that my grandparents lived in at that time was lived in more than any home I was ever in. There were no locks on any of the doors. You didn’t have to knock to enter any room. Everybody was always welcome. And at conference time people would come from miles around and stay two or three days. Horses, buggies, even wagons came with entire families aboard. Ellen Hoskins, my grandmother’s sister and family, were there a lot of the time, from Portage. Sometimes the General Authorities would come and stay. I think my aunts and uncles inherited the same characteristics as my grandmother had. My father and mother were living in the “old” house, as we called it, out on the farm in St. John. It was built of logs, cut and hewn and hauled from the nearby canyons by my grandfather, Louis Deschamps, and wife Ann. They designed and built this 4-room house themselves. While I was growing up my grandparents were living in the “new” house and store they had built during the 1890’s. They ran the first store in the area. My mother and father bought the house and store when grandmother Ann died in 1909. My grandfather Louis was killed earlier in a wagon accident at the dugway by the Kent Ranch in 1902.
It might be interesting to know the location of these houses I am describing. The “old” house of logs was about 300 yards south and a little east of Paula and Terry’s house. The “new” house was about 100 yards east of the present St. John Church and where our house now stands.
It seems that all the old timers had a yen to plant trees along all the fence lines (Balm of Gilead) and everyone had an orchard. My grandparents had five acres of prunes, apples, peaches, pears, and plums. People used to come and camp near the store, then get their supplies, which always included a supply of fruit to take with them to Arbon Valley.
In thinking back over the years of my life, many choice memories stand out in my early childhood. I even remember what I got for Christmas during one of those early years: A little white horse on wheels, a small tool chest, a rabbit that would jump by pressing a rubber bulb, many articles of clothing which my mother had made for me, cookies, donuts, popcorn. We had very few commercial toys. I kept my little white horse on the clock shelf until I was nine years old.
When I was nine years old, my father was killed in a wagon accident, on December 28, 1910. Leaving my mother and sister and we four boys. I was the oldest and had to take the responsibility of helping my mother raise and care for the rest of the family. Those memories were both joyful and sad. Their happiness seems to stand out, however, Mother and Dad were both so happy and kind and thoughtful of each other and we kids. I always wished that he and I could have had that companionship while I was growing up and in later life. I always wished that Mother and Dad could have aspired in the things they had planned for the future. But Mother always taught us to accept things the way they were, but to make the best of them too. Things still were pretty dismal after Father’s death. Adina, our only sister, was just five months old, Ben was seven, Thurman was five and Milton was two. Mother gave us the courage we needed to go on with our lives.
I had been named after my Father, and I’m proud of that. Only he was called Francis and I, Mitchell. I didn’t know too much about my father’s ancestors or their customs other than my grandparents on his side. As I sit here and reflect back, I can certainly see the importance of keeping a journal or diary. Mother was so good at taking time to write her history and that of her grandparents on both sides of the family as far back as it was possible to go. I have received so much enjoyment in reading and re-reading all that she has written.
As I sit here and reflect further and being the oldest, living in St. John, I thought it best if I wrote down what I can remember….it’s like the poem:
My glasses, fit me nicely,
My dentures fit me fine
My falsies give me uplift
But Oh Lord! What’s happened to my mind?
There used to be a brick kiln over in the field about an eighth of a mile west from the church. It used to be owned by my Grandmother Deschamps’ brother, Tom Stephens. When we were kids we used to like to go over there and watch the big fire in the kiln as they used it to bake the bricks.
I remember sitting on my grandfather’s knee while he sang French songs to me, and my grandmother would sing Welsh songs and she’d give me candy and cookies out of the store. I can still smell the old vinegar barrel, cheese, hore-hound candy/ spices, flour and tobacco.
In 1904 the reservoir on Birch Creek gave way in the spring with 5.9 inches of precipitation in March. It flooded all the bridges on Devil Creek. We were all afraid it might take our home and the store. There was a horse and buggy trying to cross the bridge when the water was about to wash the bridge away, but they hurried across safely.
My recollections of the house and store were that it was the most beautiful house in the world. It had a large parlor with a beautiful red-flowered carpet and wall paper to match. The large bay windows were adorned with rope drapes and chinese chimes hanging in the center.
The ceilings were high and the doors had transoms to regulate the air flow. The door knobs had bells in the knobs. The kitchen was large with a big bay window. The upstairs had three rooms and an attic above the store part. There was a slope or lean-to on each side of the store. An old well on the Southeast corner provided our water. There was a large cellar to keep the milk, vegetables, fruit, meat and just about everything else. Over the hill was a potato pit, and no, I won’t forget the old “privy” or ice house, as we called it.
In the yard we had a lot of corrals for the cows and horses, some sheds for our white-topped buggy and a one-horse surrey. It had chaves or a tongue so you could use one or two horses.
My Grandfather and Grandmother Evans homesteaded a ranch at the head of Rattlesnake Canyon some time in the 1880’s. They built a one room log house and broke up the land which was a very hard life. The ground was very steep in places, there were no roads and it was ten miles to town. After my father and mother were married, they homesteaded 160 acres just adjacent to my grandparent’s land. They would milk cows and farm in the summer time there and move to St. John in the winter. My father and mother also built a one room log house in which to live, and it was here that Lysle and I spent our first year of marriage. It seemed to be a pretty nice place in those days. Lysle put up pretty little curtains and it was neat and clean. But there were a few restless nights to contend with…rats packing their things in to make a nest in the attic.
When I was four years old, during the time my mother and father lived there, Mother sent me out to the clothes line to bring in a homemade rug that the wind had blown off. I picked up the rug and turned to come back to the house. Just as I was about to come through the door, the old rattles were sure a buzzing. I dropped the rug on the steps and the snake crawled down a badger hole in front of the house. Every time the rattler would poke his head out, my mother would try to kill it with a shovel. They used to say that pigs would kill snakes and so we put potato peelings from the pig pen near the badger hole thinking the pigs would follow and find the snake. They did, but they ate the peelings and not the snake. The snake stayed in the badger hole until my grandfather came by and drug him out with a shovel. That night my mother and I thanked the Lord for our safety.
I still have a warm spot in my heart for the ranch. We were neighbors to Evan and Clara Evans and their family. After their death, I bought their ranch next to ours. I’m thinking that maybe someday in the future, someone will want to build some summer homes along the little creek where a nice little spring flows and watercress grows amongst a grove of trees. I call this spring my health spring. I used to call at the local creamery and get a gallon of buttermilk and would put it in the spring to keep it cold.
Well do I remember when I was baptized in the St. John ditch down in the corner of the lane. My father baptized me with my Uncle Evan G. Jones accompanying on October 4, 1909. The water was pretty cold at that time. I really can’t remember any real unpleasant things in my early childhood. Most were all good memories. This was especially true of my recollections of my father and the times I trailed around after him. He played in the band and in an orchestra. Many a night we kids would sleep on a bench in the dance hall, lulled by the music, and waking up by the sound of “Good Night Ladies” or “Till We Meet Again”. I used to go with him to make a fire in the old pot bellied stove in the Old Rock Church House and get the building ready for Sunday School. He usually took the part of Santa at Christmas time. It was one of those Christmases that I recited my first poem…”pleased to put a penny in the old man’s hat.” I remember December 25, 1910 most vividly because it was the last Christemas I spent with my father. Just three days later, he was taking a load of sacked wheat to the elevator at the depot when the accident that took his life occurred. When the wagon struck the scales, some sacks of wheat slid off the load taking him with them, and the team of horses pulled the load over him, breaking his back. We were with him when he died. It really did have an effect on our lives for some time afterwards. They were some very unhappy times.
During the next spring, April 21, I became ill with a severe pain in my stomach which turned out to be a ruptured appendix. I lay in the hospital in Salt Lake City for six weeks not expected to live. My grandmother, Jane Evans, stayed with me most of the time. My mother was not able to care for me because my sister Adina was very ill and died thirteen days later of peritonitis. I know that it was by the faith of my mother and grandmother and the prayers of the Elders who administered to me that blessed me so that I would live. I think that one of them was a patriarch. I was too sick at the time to even hear the blessing, but my mother and grandmother told me afterwards about it. I was promised I would recover and be a comfort to my mother all the days of her life. The Lord did bless me. It really gave me my first real test of faith. I received a feeling that if ever I needed the Lord’s help, He would be there to help me and answer my prayers. Looking back now, I see many times He has answered my prayers. It is a wonderful feeling to have that assurance.
Mother always taught us to ask our Father in Heaven for the things we need, not the things we want.
The next Fall I was getting ready to go to primary in the Old Rock Church when I doubled up with pains in my stomach. Mother took me to the doctor, Dr. Ray, in the buggy. Then we took the train to Salt Lake City to the LDS Hospital where I finally had my appendix removed. I recovered very quickly.
It wasn’t very long after this, during the winter of 1911, that we moved to town. Mother purchased a lot next to my grandfather on the corner where Mrs. Lila Crowther lives. There was a tithing office building there, consisting of two rooms and a cellar. We lived in this house until 1918 when we built a red-brick house just to the East. We moved out to St. John every spring to work the farm.
Mother leased the ranch to Uncle Dick Evans, then to Uncle Heber Evans. The ranch up Rattlesnake Canyon was leased to Uncle Thomas D. Evans.
We had to sell the ranch that my Dad and Mother bought from her Mother and Father down in the haylands where Mother had grown up. It was quite a struggle to make ends meet. I went from door to door selling Columbia supplies which consisted of dishes, spices, etc. I made pretty good money. I can remember Ben and I taking a sack around the roads and gathering wool from the barbed wire fences. It made good batting for quilts. We drove derrick horses for 50 cents per day, chopped wood, milked cows, and rode horses. We had a lot of cousins and we had fun doing all these things.
The next few years, we spent growing up. You can imagine four teenage boys and the mischief they can get into, even in those days. Thurman always had a pet of some sort. He liked horses, dogs and even had a pet coyote. He had a pet magpie which he tried to teach to talk. It would say “magic” but one day the old cat needed breakfast and the magpie was the target.
I had a saddle horse we called Knot. He had a growth on his hock joint the size of a baseball. He could outrun any horse in the Country. When he became a little old, Thurman and Evan Jones, a cousin, was racing on him. He jumped a wash…But the horse and both boys piled up in the wash. Both boys broke a leg, but the horse survived the incident. About the same year, I went to catch him and he kicked me behind the right ear. I woke up about two hours later with a terrific headache.
We spent many an hour in the old orchard. There were so many varieties of fruit there… Early Harvest, Jonathan, Pound, Strawberry apples. The Old Snowflake apples were my favorite. Since the orchard was close to the school, everyone always helped themselves. I think that every generation since has had all the apples they could eat and packed them back to the school to give to the teacher.
I was ordained a deacon by Bishop James Peter Jensen in the Malad First Ward. I also became a scout at this time. I can remember passing the sacrament in the old chapel with its gallery that was built after the manner of The Mormon Tabernacle in Salt Lake City. My grandmother gave me a steel guitar which I tried to learn to play. I used to play “Oh My Father” in church and I used a hair pin for a pick and my pocket knife for a steel bar. I am sure, as well as glad, that no one had a tape recorder in those days.
My father left us some musical instruments. Ben got the clarinet, Thurman, a baritone horn and me the trumpet or cornet. There was also a base violin. A man by the name of Withnel organized a band in St. John in which we used to play our instruments. Sarah Ann and Rosalie Jones played the piano, and their brother Mitchell, the violin, brother John, the trumpet, Evan Jones, the trombone, and my brother Ben, the clarinet and I the cornet. We felt pretty good about ourselves and our music. We knew that our grandmother’s brother, Evan Stephens, was a composer and conductor of the great Mormon choir at that time. Although we never followed a career in music, it helped us in later years to appreciate music.
I had to leave school at age 16 and run the farm. At that time, it was all with horses and our transportation was by white-topped buggy and surrey, saddle horses and sleigh. We got a lot of experience training horses and had a lot of wire cuts on them from going through fences. I even had a horse who had broken his leg, and instead of putting him out of misery, I put a woolen sock on him and some barrel stays wrapped tightly with burlap. The leg healed and we worked the old horse for many years afterwards. Finally, Mother bought a car… a new Studebaker in about 1917. We were sure proud of it. I was growing up at that time I thought, because my blond whiskers were giving me some trouble. The girls at that time look a whole lot prettier and sexier to me… we didn’t use that word then. The car made it a lot easier to get next to the girls. But I found out that it wasn’t me the girls were interested in, it was the car! We had a lot of enjoyment from that car anyway, until I had an accident with my cousins, Mitchell, John and Evan Jones in their Dodge. I smashed the front end and it left Evan with a scar on his upper lip. The old Studebaker didn’t run too well after that. When we would go anywhere, my girlfriend, which was Lysle., would drive and I would ride on the fender to keep it going.
While growing up, we all worked on the farm plowing, mowing hay, cutting grain with the header, etc. Then we, along with David Henry Jones, bought a combine pulled by horses. This was quite an improvement. We bought a motor to go on it to do the threshing in a few years.
Then World War 1 was on and prices were pretty good. We raised some pretty good crops. Mother worked as the county treasurer and we built a new house in Malad…This was the red-brick house I talked about earlier. On looking back on the struggles mother had and how she was able to prosper through all the hardships and trials she suffered was really a test of her faith. She never faltered or gave up hope. She was a stalwart to the end.
We spent the next few years enjoying our new home and growing up (still). It seemed to take quite a while! Thurman Lester died about this time in 1920. We socialized and worked through the next couple of years. We had a wrestling mat in the basement of the house and took hot and cold showers alot…We seemed to have an awful lot of energy. We worked it off by cutting trees in the day and wrestling and boxing by night on account of the flu..which closed the school. We made home made ice cream, broke broncos, rode horses, cut geezers, and chased girls… What a life! Brother Ben became the champion boxer, I the champion wrestler. One night I felt like superman…although he had not been invented at that time. After only two years of training, I threw 7 men all 175 lbs or better. I just as well brag a little, no one else will and no one else is around to dispute my story either! I had a girlfriend or two, and went steady with one for a while. As I think back they were all brunettes but one seemed to appeal to me until I went out with a brown -eyed black haired gal. Well,something clicked and we have been together for over 60 years now. During our courtship, we had many enjoyable times together, sleigh riding, skiing, car riding, dancing, going to church and all the social events. We had one adventure that we will always remember, Lysle and I and another couple, Joe Ward and Mary Price, two close friends, took a horseback ride to the top of Oxford Mountain. We took pictures and had a lunch. It was quite an adventure because we really got to know each other and our love really blossomed. I should have written about our romance at that time. It would have been much more exciting and romantic, but after this many years, a lot of these memories have faded away.The choice ones, however, I will always remember.
One Sunday, Lysle’s mother and I were walking to church with Lysle. This was at the First Ward in Malad. I finally mustered up enough courage to ask her mother for a birthday present (Lysle’s hand in marriage). My birthday was coming up on the 4th of October, 1922 and I would be 21 years old. I was so nervous and excited. I still don’t know whether she said “yes” or “no”! I just took it for granted that she would say “yes”. I was 20 years old and I felt good and figured I was in my prime with all the work I had to do on three farms. I had cattle to feed, cows to milk and hogs to feed and I was looking forward to sharing all this with my bride to be. I bought her a diamond ring…It wasn’t the hope diamond, but she liked it anyway. But she lost it a few years later somewhere between the house and the gate! Maybe it’s still out there somewhere.
Well my birthday finally came and on October 4, 1922 we were married in the Salt Lake Temple. I will never forget when we came together in the sealing room how beautiful she looked with her dark hair and white dress. She was the prettiest girl in the temple that day. We lived in mother’s house that first winter, then moved to Lysle’s mother and father’s home until her mother passed away on July 24, 1923. In 1924 we fixed the square log house that my Dad and Mother had built up Rattlesnake Canyon so that we could live in it. We thought it looked pretty good. We had a Monarch Stove, coal oil lamps and an oil washer we had to push by hand. We bought a new Maytag washer with a gasoline motor on it later. We still have the same old Maytag washer, but with an electric motor. We also bought a model T Ford about this time, too. It had side curtains. We were so proud of it. We then purchased the ranch at Rattlesnake and leased the farm and ranch in St. John where we later moved to and lived the rest of the time.
We struggled along, as did everyone else during those years. Lysle had to cook for 8 to 10 farmhands during the haying season. She helped with chores, the garden, she raked and mowed hay, fought skunks, rats, magpies, ground squirrels, grasshoppers, weevils and stray dogs. Other than these small problems, we enjoyed our lives very much. We still went to picture shows and dances in the old Model T and in the winter, in the bob sleigh. On September 17 1925 Yvonne was born. This was a happy time for us as we were so proud of our pretty little daughter. We thought she too, was the prettiest baby in the county…even prettier than I was, for that matter. (Hard to admit though). She could hang to my fingers and hold her weight off the floor when she was five months old. She was very agile and was quite the water duck. She was a good dancer later and was an acrobat, turning practically inside out at times. She danced at weddings and social occasions. She danced in the Hotel Utah at a poultry convention.
Well time goes by and I haven’t written much during the past year. I am at a loss as to whether I should write about our kids or let them tell their own stories. I’m afraid if I do it, I might write more about one than the other, and I don’t want to do that because they are all equal to me. They each have their own memories. They are all kind and considerate, loving and thoughtful of us. They are not quiz kids, but close to it. They are classed in my estimation as A B C kids! They are raising up some super grandchildren.
Yvonne’s Children are: Clair Von Barrus, Born January 28, 1959
Yvette Pamela Barrus, Born May 24, 1960
Tracy Ann Barrus, Born February 7, 1962
Sheila Lee Barrus, Born March 20, 1965
Marne’s Children are: Brett Marne Deschamps, Born November 1, 1968
Kimberly Ann Deschamps, Born October 13, 1974
Paula’s Children are: Heath Lyle Morby, Born November 26, 1967
Pilar Ann Morby, Born January 9, 1971
Justin John Morby, Born August 4, 1973
We enjoyed each other and our first offspring watching her grow and develop, walk, talk, and play, until one day she had an old hat of mine on her head. Her mother had just put a tub of hot lye water on the floor and went to get some food for the table, as we had hay men for dinner. She heard the handles on the tub rattle and looked…there was Yvonne on her head in the tub. The old hat protected part of her head but the rest of her body was burned, the skin came off like the skins of a cooked potato. She was in bandages for a long time. Well, as she grew she was quite a water duck. She liked to ride with me and Old Dan, a black seven gated horse. Her mother used to ride him, he was a wonderful horse. I rode him in a parade as Paul Revere.
Lysle took her to dancing lessons. She was the star dancer in Malad, especially in acrobats. She danced on many occasions. At one time in the Hotel Utah in Salt Lake City. Later in life she took nursing, then married and raised four wonderful children. She married Clarence Barrus. He died of a heart attack. Clarence was a man with many sterling qualities, extremely friendly to every one. He was thrifty, charitable, loyal and loving to his family and very eager for his children to succeed.
I guess one of the greatest gifts a person can give is the risk of one’s life to save another. That’s what Yvonne did. She gave her own kidney to save the life of her daughter Tracy. Along with the faith and prayers of the family and friends, which we thank the Lord for her life.
At this time, December 13, 1983, Tracy is serving a mission in the Colorado area and is doing a very good and worthwhile job.
Yvette married Wade Zobell and both are going to school in Logan, Utah at the Utah State University.
Clair is going to school at B.Y. U. in Provo, Utah and Sheila is going to school at Ricks.
On June 3, Francis John Deschamps was born, another joyful time in our lives. Both he and Yvonne grew up together. They seemed to have lots of friends and playmates. I always looked forward to Francis to carry on my dreams of taking care and helping on the farm. I think that’s the dream of most fathers but dreams do not always come true.
He used to help me a great deal along with going to school. He was ambitious and bright. He liked to tinker with old cars. He seemed to have an instinct for mechanics. When he became twelve years old I ordained him a deacon and he became a scout. I was scout master at the time. The patrol he was in was called the 100 percenters.
At a reunion in Downata September 3, 1934 Francis and Yvonne sang a duet. They were both good singers although they were still pretty young.
In the summer of 1939 we were hauling hay down at Wendel Monson’s place, our neighbor. We were just finishing the last load of hay. Francis was on a load of hay and the men who were pitching the hay on the wagon tried to gather all the hay that was on the field. The load was very high. He was on the load. The horses started up to the next cock of hay and the front wheels of the wagon dropped in a ditch and Francis lost his grip on the hay rack standards. He fell down about twelve feet on the back of one of the horses and the horses kicked him. Both wheels ran over his body, crushing his pelvis and fractured his thigh. I had just received my first aid certificate and specialized in “thigh fractures” Wendel;s wife, Pearl, called Dr. Madbey. She brought some blankets and bandages. We gathered pieces of boards from an old hay rack and made some splints and put traction to relieve the severe pain. Finally the Dr. arrived. He was taken to the hospital. We administered to him. The Dr. put the bones together and put him in a cast from his armpits down to his feet. He lay in a cast for six months. With the kind neighbors and friends and loving care of his mother he completely recovered. Once again he was back to his daily activities, including school, and church. He was ordained a priest and advanced to the rank of star scout.
We had great expectations for him as all parents do. He seemed to have a love for us and his younger brother and sister, Marne and Paula. He and Yvone were very close.
We had a neighbor L. M. Camp, who lived just north of us. He had a young boy living with him. His name was Karl Thuma. He and Francis became very good friends. They were together most of the time. Karl and L.M. could not get along so he asked us if he could live with us. We consented. He called us Mom and Dad. As time went on he wanted to join the Army. We were about to become his guardians so he could enlist, but somehow he enlisted and went to the war in Japan, came home and went to Alaska and married an eskimo. He and his family come to see us once in a while.
It was 1945, just before deer season. I, being the scout master, had full knowledge of the danger in hunting. I had the game warden come out and instruct the boys on the game laws and gun safety . All the boys in the ward were there but one.
On October 27, four of the boys prepared to go hunting deer. They had an old Model A Ford with no top, belonging to Jerald Hill. Besides Francis and Jerald there was Donald and Billie Moses. Before they left I checked their guns and warned them not to have their guns loaded in the car and to use caution. About four o’clock in the afternoon one of the boys came to me. I was working up on the ranch and told me there had been an accident and Francis had been shot. That was a terrible shock to mother and me. It was our second tragedy in our small family, and the second one for Francis. We often wonder why some people have so much and some so little, but I guess that’s life. We are placed here to overcome obstacles. There is always someone worse off than us and it is always consoling to read the life of Job.
I would like to relate how this accident occurred so others can prevent the same tragedy or mistake. They were just coming home from the manhunt with no luck. Off to the right, the side Francis was sitting, a coyote was in the field. The driver stopped the car. The boys got out and loaded their guns. Francis was sitting on the running board and as he raised up the driver shot over the car just as Francis raised up. Killing him instantly. Had this boy heeded my advice it probably would have been avoided.
It was quite a shock to us taking an eighteen year old boy out of a family. It seems as though he was not to enjoy life to the fullest. It may be as mother used to say when father was killed, “That the lord needed him more”. Sometimes we wonder. You know we are on this Earth to prepare ourselves and to overcome obstacles. I always feel that the next life is of more importance than this one.
On November 29, 1931 another beautiful baby boy was born to us. We enjoyed him very much with his winning smile and cheerful disposition, especially the first six months. About that time he seemed to have a distressed look on his face and a sense of uneasiness plus a higher than normal temperature. The doctor didn’t seem to know what the trouble was. His mother and I tried everything we knew to bring his temperature down. We would take him out on the lawn under the shade of the trees where it was cool and he seemed to have a distressed feeling in his stomach. One day I put my hand on his stomach and noticed a lump about the size of an egg. It wasn’t long after we called Dr. Mabey. He died that afternoon. August 7, 1932. That was not a very pleasant summer and because of the depression, it was very difficult to make ends meet. Wheat was around 20 cents per bushel, eggs 15 cents. I sold hogs for 3 cents per lb. butterfat, 13 cents. I remember one time we took a load of wheat (50) bushels, one can of cream and a case of eggs to Ogden to save the freight, we made $5.oo.
Although we already had two tragedies in our family, we did not let ourselves get down. Thanks to our parents who also went through hard times and also as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints that gives us understanding and faith in the future.
We were both active in the ward. Lysle was president of the primary, and M. I. A. adult leader. She wrote plays and directed musical events, She spent her entire life in music. She even played in the Old Lubin Jones Theater for silent movies, funerals, dances, operettas, played the organ in sacrament meeting and above all it was always a pleasure to hear her play at home.
We were both dance directors. At one time there was a dance contest in the stake. Well, when we all met in the second ward, it used to be the stake at that time. When we were to compete there we were my two brothers and their wives all competing. Well, I’ll not say which of us won. Let’s say it was close.
It was in 1924 I was set apart as second counselor in the Sunday School in the St. John Ward. And in 1929 second counselor to John E. Blaisdell in the Bishopric which I served for six years. I also served on the religion class stake board until this department was discontinued.
There were many times we had to serve in two capacities at the same time. There were a few years I served as M.I.A. President and scout master.
They were enjoyable times putting on road shows, dances, plays, activities, Halloween parties and many others. Many times I would have to milk my cows after M.I.A.
The Church of Jesus Christ has meant a lot to us as a family and has been an anchor and a guide to us. If only we would heed to its principles, I think it would solve all of our problems. If we would put our trust in the Lord, and have faith in him and of course keep his commandments He would bless us. You know obedience is heaven’s first law. I think I learned my first lesson in faith from an experience I had when I was about 8 or 9 years old. My mother gave me a silver dollar ( the first one I ever had). It meant so much to me, especially at that age and in those times. I prized that dollar so very much. I showed it to everybody. I was so proud of it, but one morning I reached in my pocket and the dollar was gone. I searched in the grass and on the porch. I thought it had fallen through the cracks in the floor, but of no avail. I think I cried. I know I worried. Well, my mother told me before, and many times that if I needed anything that I couldn’t do for myself to ask our Heavenly Father for help.
I remember going upstairs where I slept. I knelt down by my bed and prayed to my Heavenly Father to help me find that dollar. When I finished my prayer I raised up and there was my dollar almost under my hand. I have thought about this many times later in my life. I don’t think the Lord put the dollar there. The question is what led me up to where I found it. This gave me my first experience in faith and prayer.
I recall the first scout meeting in the First Ward. Our first scout master was Dave Morgan. Joe Isaacson was District Scout Executive. In 1913, we moved to St. John in the Spring then Don Noble was the first scout master in St. John. We didn’t do too much advancing in those days. Our efforts were learning the scout oath and law. We spent a lot of our time chopping wood, shoveling snow and doing things for other people. It seemed as though our scout master emphasized in doing the good turn, and that is what it should be.
Well, when I became 17 or 18 years old, I was put in as assistant scout master.
I was one of the assistant scout masters for about six years. In 1923 every troop in the stake made a trip to Yellowstone Park. We went up in 6 or 7 trucks, that was quite an experience. We learned a lot, had a lot of fun and saw some beautiful country. That association with the boys and the leaders was something I have treasured all my life. You know back in 1923 the roads in the park were not much more than wagon roads and many of the grades we had to get out and walk and to find water to put in the radiators of the trucks.
On the way home we came through Jackson by way of the south entrance to the park. We camped at the home of Mike Youkle, at that time he was the world champion wrestler. He had a farm at the foot of the mountain and at the pass where the road leads from Wyoming to Idaho. His wife and some of his promoters were out on a wrestling tour.
Well I do remember one Sunday morning, our stake president was with us. We did not travel that day, we had a church service. We all assembled in one group, stood at attention, had a flag ceremony, prayer, and some talks by our leaders. This all took place at Old Faithful. There were bears everywhere. They were in our campground stealing our food. Some of the boys would spread honey to try to attract the bears to some other tents. They didn’t know how dangerous that was!
Well the next year Mom and I moved to St. John. I was put in as assistant scoutmaster. Then in 1929 I was chosen to be second counselor to John E. Blaisdell, a Bishop of the St. John Ward. I was also put in as a troop committeeman where I served until 1935, then as scout master from 1932 until 1947. At that time I was put in as President of the St. John M.I.A. Where I served as president and institutional representative. In 1953 I was again registered as scout master. I had my own son Marne as a scout. Then in 1957 I was on the troop com 75 where I served until the present time, which is 1983 and hope to have a chance to serve many more.
It was about 1967 that I was chosen to serve on the Malad District Scout Committee which I enjoyed very much. We put on a number of court of honors and visited all the scout troops and conducted a number of board of reviews and camp -o -rees. I enjoyed the association with the different scout masters and the members on our committee which were Boyd Lewis, Raymond Evans, Jack Forbush, John Price, Marion Hansen and Gerald Williams.
If I remember right, it was the year of 1932 I had about twenty five scouts and an assistant scout master, Alden Blaisdell. We planned to go to the top of Oxford Mountain. In our meeting we planned our trip, foot, quilts and blankets ( this was before sleeping bags were invented. Well, anyway we left my ranch about noon, which is about nine miles from St. John, and hiked to the quaking aspen flat; that’s where you can see the most vegetation at the base of the mountain. I hired a boy, Rusty Hess, to bring the team of horses and buckboard to haul our bedding up and back.
We made camp, had supper and made our beds around a big campfire, and finally got to sleep. About 3 o/clock in the morning we heard the horses making a big fuss and woke us all up. We figured it must have been a cougar that was in the area. For that matter there must still be one there as we think. Well, we didn’t get any sleep after that. We made breakfast, and Rusty and the boys loaded the bedding in the buckboard and he headed back to the ranch.
Really, the hike started at my ranch on Evans Creek, then up to my Grandfather;’s ranch on Rattlesnake, then up through Dry Creek, then over to First Creek where we camped. Well, after breakfast, the boys were excited. They were like a bunch of colts that had been penned up in a corral for three days, they were young and full of vinegar. If you have ever been up there you would know how steep the climb would be.
Well, at the last spring we had a good drink and filled our canteens and started that climb. It was beautiful. The freshness of the air and the fragrance of the pines and a glimpse of the sun coming up, and the vim and vinegar of youth. I would like to be able to live it again. Now it’s just a memory.
As we proceeded up from First Creek, we took the ridge to the North where the brush was not so thick, and a little bit easier to climb. After we climbed up the mountain about one half mile, one of the boys began to show signs of tiring so we all stopped and rested for a while. As we went on he seemed to become more tired and complained of his back and leg, so the rest of the boys helped him by making a chair. They had learned in fist aid. We managed to get to the top of the mountain about 1:00 p.m., we had left the camp about 5:00 a.m. After we reached the troop we sat at the monument the Forest Service had erected. We placed our names in a fruit jar and ate our lunch. We had used up all the water we had.
Well, with all the excitement and ambition the older boys had, they decided to hike down to Oxford and hitch a ride to Downata. They didn’t realize the trouble I was in. By this time the boy could hardly walk. He was a small boy then, if you could see him now he is a good six feet six inches and weighs about 225 pounds. His name was Billie Edwards. Our Bishop’s brother, (Billie died 1983)
We found a snow drift on the north side of the peak to quench our thirst. The other six small boys were pretty tired and we had a long way to go to get to Downata. Well, the only alternative I had was to put him on my back and carry him. The only thing in my favor was these boys were some pretty good kids and that we would have someone waiting for us at the springs, and that was good old Alvin Camp, a troop committee man.
I was sure glad it was mostly down hill, but when we went down we had to come up, it wasn’t a roller coaster either. I packed him all the way. I had a new pair of shoes when I started, my socks were showing when we arrived.
Alvin had something for us to eat, and a good swim. The other boys that hitched a ride were in the pool having a great time.
Well, we learned two good lessons, one was stay together in case of trouble, the other; which is the practice now, is to have an examination before hiking. Billie had had a broken leg before and injured his back. That I did not know.
Looking back through the years we made a lot of our entertainment. About the first games we played, which we never see anymore, was cat and mouse, stink, steal the race, mumble peg, hop scotch, scatter boondles, hide the egg, marbles, baseball rounders and many others.
There used to be a ball diamond in the old school yard, and a grand stand. That’s where the Malad team held all their ball games. We always had a parade and ball game on the 4th and 24th of July. St John had three brass bands. I was in one, our leader was Withnel, Dave Smith a school band. My father was in one about 1900. St. John seemed to have plenty of musicians and people that were interested in furnishing recreation for the community and the families. I had an Uncle Evan G. Jones who started us kids out in music. His family were musical, so he started an orchestra. His daughters Sara Ann, later (Stayner) and Rosalie played the piano. Mitchell, a brother the violin, John a brother , the cornet, Evan another brother the trombone. Myself a cornet and my brother Ben the clarinet.
We had a parade almost every year. I think the first one I can recall, I rigged up, was a pioneer float, as near as possible to what the pioneers crossed the plains in. I had an old wagon with bows and cover on the back half, an old washing machine, churn, stove and I even had an old bass violin that my dad used to play.
We had an old raw boned horse we called Nig. My Uncle Dick had a black horse called Frank. At one time they were the best pulling team in the west, I hitched ole Nig and an old cow to the wagon. I had Keith Howell, our nephew ( he was staying with us that summer) ride the cow. I had John E. Blaisdell as Brigham Young.
Well, the next parade I still had old Nig so I hitched him up with a Jersey Cow. Lysle and Tona Woozley were two of my wives.
I always love a parade. We used to go to the Ogden Pioneer Days Parade and to Salt Lake Days of 49, the Tournament of Roses in Portland, the Rose Bowl parade in Pasadena. A bus load of our friends went to Chicago in 1935 to the World’s Fair. Just as we entered Chicago our bus driver, J. Guy Gleed, drove on the wrong street and we found ourselves in a parade.
I think some things fascinated me when I was a small boy. Someone left a make-up kit full of grease paints of all shades, also an enlargement device to enlarge and draw pictures. I just found a picture that he drew and enlarged dated 1905 of his father and one of Joseph Smith. All of these are in frames. Us kids would use this make-up kit almost every Halloween. There would be a Character Ball, that would give us a chance to show off, from a long nosed dwarf to a Chinese monk or Mahatma Ghandi.
When our bicentennial year came around the community of Malad planned a celebration so that meant another parade. I knew I had to be in it. Well, I had an old McCormick Deering Header on the ranch. I said to myself, why not! I brought it down, repaired it, and painted it to its original colors. I pulled it with only two horses. We always used either four or six. And I drove it in the parade. It brought a lot of comments and applause. The committee asked me to bring it to Downey to their parade, of which I won first place.
Again in 1980, I entered the parade with a reversible disc single plow manufactured back in the 1800’s which I left at the Deep Creek Inn, the cafe that Paula and Terry owned.
Well, I still had the “bug”. With the permission of Clyde Williams, he had a self rake his grandfather used, I brought it down from Deep Creek and restored it and entered it in last years parade (1982)
Them were the good old days… In 1933 wheat was 22 cents per bushel. I sold some wheat last week for $3.81 per bushel ( 1983). In 1933 I could load sacked wheat (130 lbs) from the ground into a wagon packer and carry a boy from the top of Oxford mountain. In 1983 I can still get in the car and go for a ride. I can still ride a horse. I’m afraid to square dance. I know I won’t last for the grand rights and left.
In 1933 eggs were 12 cents per dozen. In 1983, 98 cents per dozen.
In 1933 I was up before daylight, milked the cows, fed the hogs, chickens, cattle, harnessed the team, went to the canyon cut a cord and a half of wood, come home, do the same chores, get the wife and baby, go to the dance and sleep like a log.
In 1983 I go out at 9:00 a.m. feed a bale of hay to 12 calves, 2 horses, 8 sheep and 1 lamb. Come in to breakfast, watch television and then rest for two hours. That’s why it takes me so long to write “my life story” I have the time but won’t take it.
In 1933 I did the janitorial work at the St. John school for $30.00 per month.
In 1983 I had Lysle in the Dr. Office last week, the bill came to $45.00 for less than one half hour.
In 1933 I sold hogs for 3 cents per pound….cows at $12.00 per head. I bought the ranch from Uncle Dick Evans in 1929 when things looked rosy. I hung on for three years, then turned it back to my creditors.
In 1983 now land prices are from $300 to $1500. Inflation has taken all the profit out of the farm. So you tell me, when were the good old days!!
Here it is October 23, 1983. October is a milestone for me. Another year older. Old Father Time is peeking over Oxford mountains. He just about had me last week. I was driving a cow and calf out of the field with my two dogs, Gilligan and Sherlock, (That’s the names Paula’s kids named them.) I was riding the tractor. Well, all the old cow wanted to do was fight the dogs and bellow. I got off the tractor to move her out of a corner and the only weapon I had was a hammer. Well, I threw it at her and as I went to retrieve it she charged me, knocking me under the tractor, her a bellowing and foaming at the mouth. The two dogs a barking and the tractor running and my glasses were under me on the ground. Well, I think the good Lord was with me, not Father Time. Just for a few bruised joints , I was O.K. Just a little excitement!
As I sit here looking out the window watching the rain, which we have had this past year in abundance, my mind goes back about 43 years ago in December 10, 1940. A son was born, red-faced, wrinkled skin, curly hair, not too hard to look at, but a joy to Mom and me. After ten years of no children around since Lary Lee died. Well, he was born two or three months too soon. I think he wanted to go fishing although it was out of season. After 43 years, he still likes to fish and hunt. In fact– Marne, that’s what we named him, with Lysle in front, just came back from Bear Lake yesterday, October 22, 1983. Marne was mechanically inclined, he either had a spoon in his mouth eating or a screwdriver in his hand taking things apart.
I have been looking through some pictures in the family album and every picture in the album of Marne shows his pleasant smile and his curly hair which he tried to comb out at one time. He and some of his friends tried to change the color. Now he wishes he had it even if it is curly.
We enjoyed Marne. He always had a pleasant smile for everyone. He would have been a good farmer, he loved the land. He always did a good job when he plowed, cut hay, or anything else. Things were done right. That trait is still with him.
It was a great thrill when I took him in my arms and blessed him and gave him a name. And then again ordained him to the Aaronic Priesthood, and assisted in confirming the Melchizedek Priesthood upon him. I also had him in my scout troop. He became a Life Scout. His patrol was called the 100 per centers.
I would like to go back a few years to 1934-1935. They were the driest years in this century. A lot of the creeks dried up. In 1935 we had 8.09 precipitation, driest on record. That was the year of the Great Dust Bowl. A lot of the farmers moved out of the middle west and settled elsewhere. We were fortunate, we raised a fair crop, we had cattle, irrigated hay and grain and our water supply was average, but prices were at a very low point. Here are some prices in 1933. Wheat, 25 cents. We sold some for 17 cents, barley 40 cents, eggs 16 cents per dozen, hogs 3 cents, cows 1 and ½ cents and butter 13 cents.
I worked on the W.P.A. for a while and did my farm work too. All with horses. That was about the time I bought my first tractor. A T20 Gas.
Talking about horses, a person has a lot of experiences with them. I used to have a lot of saddle horses, Knot, Old Dan, Pet, Tiney Frisky, Spooks, Paula had Ringo Star, Dutchess, and Sweetheart. Justin has Freckles. I still have Apache. He and Dutchess are my old dependables.
In 1935, I read there was going to be a World’s Fair in Chicago. I told Mom I would like to go. We talked it over. When the time came there was a group of friends and neighbors all decided to go. We hired J. Guy Gleed, a good friend and his wife; and also a good bus. There were about 25 of us, all fun loving people. We took off the last week of August. It was a hot day, but that did not matter. We were on the way. We left Yvonne and Francis with Claude and Lydia Jones. He was working for us at the time. That was a very enjoyable trip going and coming. We all stayed in one rooming house and rode the elevated railway to the fair. We saw about everything there was to see and do, toured Chicago, went out on Lake Michigan, the Rigby Building, and planetarium. One day Mom and I took a streetcar ride. We asked for transfers. We rode all over Chicago for one fare each. That same day we visited Mom’s Aunt May and Uncle Tom Richards.
We also visited the downtown part of Chicago where just a short time before John Dillinger, a gangster was shot. We saw the bullet holes in the light pole and the building where he was killed. It was night and we had to walk past some old abandoned buildings to catch our ride back to our rooming house. It was really spooky.
We spent a night in Nauvoo, Illinois. We stayed in Joseph Smith’s Mansion and visited some of the important places of interest and ruins of the church property in Nauvoo.
We had many interesting and beautiful experiences on our way home; the Bad Lands of South Dakota, also the monument at Mt. Rushmore, then back to a close call. We spotted a cow and bull moose close by. Well I felt pretty brave. I wanted a picture. Well, I came too close. I wanted a picture. He almost snaked me, he chased me to a tree then to the bus. Some of the passengers still talk about the incident and our trip. We made it home in time to get our kids enrolled in school.
Well here it is December 6, 1983, It’s a dreary day, snowing and blowing, there has only been two days of sunshine in 36 days of November and 6 days of December. If this continues it will be like the winter of 1868. It’s hard to write anything of a cheerful nature when it is so dreary outside.
We did have a joyful day on Thanksgiving. Marne, Jerry and Family, Yvonne and her family came and brought the turkey and all the trimmings and stayed overnight. We had a very enjoyable time. The only thing wrong was the absence of Paula and Terry, Heath, Pilar and Justin.
We love our family very much. They are so kind and considerate of us. We do miss them but they are not too far away but we can reach them in an emergency. Paula and Terry and family are the farthest away. They sold their home on the farm and moved to Boise in the last of 1982. It was quite a disappointment to them and us, but the reason and the result of Terry’s accident he had a few years back, breaking his ankle. ( He was laid up for 5 years.) This made it necessary for them to dispose of their dairy herd along with high interest rates, they thought it best to go to Boise and make a fresh start.
Well by the letters and telephone conversations, that new start seems to be taking new roots. They seem to be happy and everything is looking up for them. Paula told me last Sunday that Terry ordained Heath to the office of a Priest in the Aaronic priesthood, this made Mother and I very proud of Terry and Heath. It’s just like an old plant, sometimes a transplant is like a new beginning. Our prayers are for them.
I just ran across a picture of Francis holding Marne and Paula when Paula was about a year old.
Paula was born January 16, 1944 in Ogden , Utah. She had two beautiful parents especially one, they had all the adjectives in the English language. Take that the way you want.
Well with all the adverse time she turned out a very good looking woman. Paula loved horses and helped Terry raise calves in their dairy herd. Paula was a lovable woman.
She raised and broke Dutchess, Pretty Boy, and bought Blondie the mare. She won many barrel races. She was a queen in the Pocatello Rodeo. ( Preston, Caldwell, Malad… White Cloud), I should also mention she was very talented. She was a beautiful singer. She sang in funerals, churches, she had the lead in choruses and was chorister in church. We enjoyed listening to her sing. She attended school at B.Y. U. in Provo and became very efficient in secretary work and most of all she is a wonderful wife and mother to Terry and three wonderful children: Heath- the Babe Ruth, Pilar- Miss America and Justin- Mike Youkle the world champ wrestler in 1920.
I think the kids inherited some of Paula and Terry’s athletic ability.
I would like to relate when Paula had her 16th birthday. She had a number of her girlfriends here to celebrate. Well that evening the moon was shining bright and they wanted to go skating. They asked me to take them so we went over to an ice pond in James Thomas’s field. The water came from a spring and entered a reservoir. Well it was a beautiful clear night for skating., I walked out on the ice to see if it was safe for them to skate on and all at once the ice broke. I found myself up to my arm pits in ice, water and mud. I finally struggled out. Well I looked like a frozen turkey.
Well here it is January 20, 1984. Mom and I came up to Boise where Paula and Terry live. We came here the day before Christmas on the Amtrack. That was the first ride on the rails since Lysle and I went to Denver, Colorado on our 25th Anniversary. We expected to spend a few weeks in a mild climate but we found a very cold, stormy and unusual weather. It has been under freezing all winter.
Life seems to have disappointments almost any time along with enjoyable times. I guess we should expect these things. We cannot change. Well that afternoon we prepared to leave to come to Boise, my best horse ( Apache) acted strange. He staggered in his hind quarters and an unsteady gate, a far away look in his eyes. I had the vet come out. He took some blood samples and temperature. Everything seemed normal. The vet thought it might be a tumor or a worm that had gone through the bloodstream and entered his brain, or it could have been brain fever. He died in the night.
I have raised a lot of horses in my lifetime and had a lot of them die, but I don’t know when I needed and worshiped a horse more than Apache. He was a horse I could trust especially at my age. I figured he would be with me as long as I could get on. I knew he would bring me home.
It was just a week before I had the vet come out and check Dutchess’ teeth. She was failing. I was afraid she wouldn’t make it through the winter. When we looked in her mouth her teeth were so bad, some gone. We thought it more humane to send her to the sale in Preston where she wouldn’t get down in this severe winter.
Dutchess was 25 years old, Apache 14, well I have sold all the cattle, and sheep. All that’s left on the place is Justin’s horse, Freckles.
I know it’s not going to be the same when I go home. I know the dogs will come to me and lick my hand. No calves or sheep will beller, and no Apache or Dutchess will whinny and come to the fence wanting to be petted and eat apples out of my hand. After living around livestock all your life watching them eat in the green pasture and see them eat from a manger and watch them grow, it’s something you do not forget.
I think the first animal I ever saw was when my father took me out to the pig pen and showed me a litter of little pigs that were just born. I think that first touch of those pretty little pigs gave me a love and a desire to raise and care for livestock all my life.
Before my father was killed, he and Uncle Dave Deschamps had a sizable herd of cattle. In fact, it is the largest in the valley. Mother was forced to sell to reduce the herd. Then after I took over the farm, I increased them to around 100 head. That was all the feed we had.
In 1929, I bought some pure-bred Jersey cows that came from Iowa. The same year I went to Virginia, Idaho and bought some pure-bred Durock Jersey hogs. I showed both cows and hogs in the Oneida County Fair and the Ogden Livestock shows.
I had a range permit for 93 head of cattle and 7 horses but through range management and some “hanky panky” it was cut down to 62 head.
Well when I saw that I had no one to carry on I sold the permit to Theron and Dale Blaisdell and Richard Ward and the last of my cattle to Kenneth Ward in 1982.
I still have the ranch on Rattlesnake.
Mom and I worked pretty hard to make a go of things. It was more than 40 hours a week, daylight to dark and 7 days a week. I even did some selling on the side. I sold electric fences when they first came on the market.
After the 2nd World War, I sold army surplus. I used the Old Rock Church to store the surplus. I sold everything from bed pans, hay racks to hair nets, office supplies, canvas, tools, cooking utensils, stoves, shoes, telephones, saddles, well about everything the army had. I did pretty good. But when they built the new church in St. John we had to tear the Old Rock Church down. ( 1952) That left me with no place to store the surplus.
Life was never dull. There was something happening or exciting that kept us going and on our toes.
It was on Halloween night! It seems the boys played some of the same pranks that their fathers did on that night. Pull clothes lines down, tear gates off their hinges. They even put a wagon on our shed at one time.
Well one night I heard a group of St. John boys on horseback out in front of the church. They had their ropes fastened to the foot bridge just ready to drag it away when I shot in the air. That frightened them. They dropped their ropes and took off like scared coyotes. They all galloped around the red brick school house. Well about twenty minutes here the boys came over to see me. One of the boys’ horse had fallen down a well shaft 20 feet down. That boy was Gordon Williie. Well Gordon was able to get out but not his horse so we had to go to his Uncle Charlety White with his crane. I took some ropes and cables and went down the well. The horse was still struggling in three feet of water, broken board and dirt. I finally secured the ropes around his body and Charley pulled him out. Well the boy and I talked and joked about that experience for years after.
We just bought a new Desoto and went to Idaho Falls to visit Yvonne and Clarence and decided to go out to the atomic site. President Johnson came to dedicate the facilities. We picked up Yvonne’s sister-in-law and kids. Well when the affair was over and we started back home, a storm of wind, dust and rain came up. Well our car looked like a ‘30 model.
When we got back to Idaho Falls the lady with us suggested we go to a new car wash, the first in the country.
Well I drove in, got out and closed the door and proceeded to read the directions. It asked for two quarters. I put one in and by the time I put the other quarter in the soap spray started. Well I couldn’t open the door. No hat, no coat, just a pongee shirt. Well by the time I got my breath, the rinse started. Everyone in the car sure gave me the “horse laugh”. At least I came out clean!
We went to a dance in the New House Hotel at a Utah Poultry Convention. Well, I went to the restroom. I was in a hurry. Well when I came out I met a group of ladies coming in. Was my face red!
Mom and I have had many joyful experiences in our lifetime and some sad ones, but I guess that’s life, but our love for each other, I think, has grown deeper through the years. Maybe we don’t show it physically as it was in years past, but it’s still there. I love her very much. I know the family does too. They displayed that love and affection on our 60th anniversary with all their presents at a family gathering and dinner and the many times we have been welcomed in their homes.
It was in the Spring of ‘52 I was digging a drain ditch, when Lysle came to the fence and said why don’t you go to that scout dinner in Pocatello. She said, you need a rest and you have been working too hard. She insisted. I always wanted to go to one of those affairs.
Well we told Paula and Terry that we might go. They said, “Why don’t you go Dad?” Well we went. After we were in the banquet hall we met Yvonne. You know Clair was an Eagle Scout. I thought that was the reason she was there. Well a little later there was Marne and Geraldine. As we were eating at the banquet I saw several Malad people on the same table and lo and behold, there seated was Paula and Terry. If ever this is your life it was there. I don’t know when I was so overjoyed as then to see my wife, family and friends there in my honor.
After the dinner Lysle and I were escorted by two of our scouts from home to the rostrum where we were presented the Silver Beaver awards and a 50 year pin and plaque. I have added twelve more years of continued service which I have thoroughly enjoyed.
During those 62 years of scouting I have had contact with many wonderful men and boys. Their friendship and love has meant a lot to me. Scouting is a wonderful program for men and boys.
If you put the Aaronic Priesthood and the scouting program together, where could you find a better character building program if carried out and lived. It’’s a guarantee of a happy and successful life. I just hope I have helped some boy on his way. I know it has helped me.
Here it is, February 22, 1984 and we are still in Boise with Paula, Terry and family enjoying ourselves, still snow on the ground. We are just waiting for the weather to warm up to head back home. Come to think of it, it was 40 years ago today I had my first airplane ride with Parley Deschamps, my cousin. It was quite a thrill and quite frightening. Or in other words plumb scared. There was snow on the Bench Ranch and I was looking for a place to jump. But we made it O.K.
This is for the record: Paula and Terry are fine and happy. Heath, Pilar and Justin are in school and in good health, learning and growing. Marne and Geraldeen are happily living in Idaho Falls. Brett and Kimberly are growing and learning.
Yvonne is in Idaho Falls, Idaho. She is living alone at the present time. Sheila is going to school at Ricks College. Tracy is on a mission in the Denver area. Yvette is married to Wade Zobel. They are going to school at Utah State University in Logan, Utah. Yvette is teaching music. Clair is going to school at B.Y..U. in Provo, Utah.
F. Mitchell Deschamps