A TRUE CHRISTMAS STORY

by Carol Cluff
It was the first big storm of the winter season in Phoenix, Arizona - December 7th to be exact. It was raining and there were icy 70 MPH gusts of wind that night. The family had just finished watching a movie on television and it was time for the children to go to bed when they heard someone talking at the side of their house. the father got up to look out the window but couldn't see anyone. He said"I'm almost afraid to open the door" as he peeked out slowly.

As he looked to the side of the house there was a homeless man in a wheelchair freezing from the cold. He had a meager blanket around him but that wasn't enough to keep him warm.

When he saw the father he kept repeating over and over that he was sorry for the problem. He was just trying to get out of the cold. The father said to him"come up on the porch where it is a little warmer," and then asked the mother if she had another blanket for him to use.

The old man, who said his name was Patrick, had been drinking and didn't quite know where he was. Something tells me it wasn't an accident that he chose this house to come to.

Even though the father gave him the blanket, which he again thanked him repeatedly for, it still didn't set well with him that he was left out in the terrible cold. With tears in his eyes the father said, "I can't let him stay out in this cold all night." He decided to bring him in and let him sleep in the living room. Father said he will sleep in there with him to make sure he was watched over. So, the father brought him in and asked if he could get him something to eat. Patrick said he would love some soup. When the father explained that he will be sleeping inside the house Patrick began to cry and thank him again repeatedly. Patrick asked the father if he believed there is a God. Father replied, "there is definitely a God". Patrick said, "when I go to heaven I want you to be beside me."

Patrick ate his soup and rolled off on the floor with his blanket and slept the night. The next morning father took him to the rest home where he said he lived.

Are you asking who the father was in this story?
It was none other than JIM CLUFF!

WHEN YE DO IT UNTO THE LEAST OF THESE MY BRETHREN,

YE DO IT UNTO ME.

{Feeling that this is an example of the legacy our mother left, I reprint this with Carol's permission. Jim called me the other night to let me know he had hugged a homeless person, and it could now be checked off a facebook list we had done. I cried with him as he told me this story... It was the very night it happened, and what he said to me was so very true - "It is what our mother would have done!" What a great example you are, Jim, I'm glad you take after our mother with her CHARITY - the pure love of CHRIST!}

FAMILY PARTY COMING UP!

DON'T FORGET!

Primary

Mom has been bugging me all week to get this story down so here goes even though I feel like I am the only one using this web sight.

I remember living in Mesa and going to primary during the week with my good friend Andy Shumway. We used to sit by each other and I remember talking when we should have been singing. Mom was the primary choroister or in the primary presidency and filled in leading the singing I'm not sure which. Needless to say when I got home I was instructed how I should act in primary. I didn't learn the lesson I guess because when we lived in St George I was in the same situation with Kenneth Blazard but this time Mom stopped what she was doing and brought it to the attention of the whole primary that Kenneth and I were not singing. I was so embarrassed I made up my mind that would never happen to me again and it didn't.

Mom was always involved in primary when she had young kids. She served as the Primary President in the second ward in St. George But she was always involved in music too. She volunteered to teach my class when I was a Blazer. I guess my class was a handful and they were having a hard time finding a teacher. Mom always said she would rather teach boys than girls in primary something about them being noisy but easier for her to handle. While mom was the primary president in St. George we got a new bishop and I remember having a ward party to thank the outgoing bishopric. Mom wrote a song for the occasion it was sung to the tune of
( Lul a bye baby) I can only remember the second verse. How about it Beth and Ray?

Now our contribution to 2nd ward fame,
two boys and a girl can you do the same.
We wish you good luck and need it you must,
So build a new chapel and make the seems bust.

chours
Zion, zion, zion is growing.
Zion, zion, zion is growing.

We did build a new chapel but it was funny because the old bishopric was young and the new bishopric had already raised their families.

Mom always had us singing for something and it always seemed like we had to learn a new song for the occasion. I remember her writing down the words to a song from a record we had so we could learn them for a Jones family party. Beth and I tried to remember the words to Will a pus Wal a pus but we weren't very successful.

Now Will a pus Wal a pus was the name of the boy I'll tell about.
He gets in lots of trouble of that there is no dought.
His mother often told him now Will a pus don't you see,
if you mind what mother and daddy say from trouble you'll be free.

Of course you and I know she was right! All mothers and daddy's
know more about things than we do.

Will a pus had been told many times not to play in the car.

He climbed in the seat turned the big steering wheel,
played he was driving an automobile.
Pushed buttons and switches to see how they feel,
alason he loosened the brake.
Now the car started rolling right down the steep grade.
Will a pus knew some mistake he had made.
He cried and he yelled cause he was so afraid ( I'd be afraid too wouldn't you!)
It kept rolling down the hill faster and faster,
The brakes and the steering wheel he could not master,
bound to wind up in some sort of disaster,
and he did yes sir graces me right away.

It went something like:

The car went over the curb bump bang and right through a white picket fence.
Crash, and slammed into Mr. McGregor's chicken coop. Chickens were flying all over the place.
And Mr. McGregor came out of his house and he was as mad as a wet Hen!

The Wallapus heard the excitement and came running when they recognized the car.
They opened the door and there was Will a pus curled up on the seat he wasn't hurt
but boy was he scared.

His mother often told him now Will a pus don't you see if you mind what mother and daddy's
say from trouble you'll be free.

Anyway maybe you can get the just of it. I remember mom dressing Ray up and putting cocoa powder on his face so he could sing my grandpa Jones's favorite song at a family reunion.

O see that water mellon a smiling on the vine.
O that water mellon how I wish was mine.
the white folks they am foolish they need a lick of sense
or they'ed never leave it there up on the vine.

O the ham bone am sweet the bacon am good and the oposom fat am very very fine.
But give to me yes give me o how I wish you would that water mellon smiling on the vine.

Thanks Mom for all the time you spent with us teaching us about life both from example and through fun songs.

Picture Pedigree

Maybe you can see these pictures well enough to benifit posting them?

A Seventy

This last few weeks as I have had some personal struggles with trying to lead a group of old High Priests. I was talking to my son Dylan about the priesthood and how my dad held the office of Seventy when he ordained me an Elder. Dylan got this wide eyed look and asked, Grandpa Jones was in the Quorum of Seventy? I had to back up and think about how that worked.

Back in the day the Seventies were organized on a Stake level and were responsible for missionary work. In fact we had one seventy left in our stake until this last year. He is a good friend from my work and he asked me to ordain him a High Priest. Which I had the privilege to do back in January of this year. But that is another story.

I remember Dad was one of the 7 presidents of Seventy in the Logandale Stake. He was the president of the Seventies Quorum in Mesquite 1st ward. I remember him complaining about how hard it was to motivate the old men to do missionary work. It reminded me of my own concerns. Dad was ordained a Seventy by Joesph Fielding Smith which made his priesthood line of authority very short. He spent most of his time trying to teach the gospel and holding baptisms. I remember him making visits to prospective members and It seemed like we always had someone at our house for Sunday dinner. Of course back then we ate Breakfast, Dinner and Supper. We didn't know what lunch was. We had our big meal around noon and in the evening we usually had bread and milk before we went to bed. Of course Mom and Lena and Beth didn't drink milk so they had to settle for a bread and Jelly or peanut butter sandwich.

Whistle instructions

Dustin, Maybe this will help. Ray could probably give you a few more pointers. See the comments to your post.


Dad had a tradition of making whistles. He was also quite accomplished at whittling.We use to have a wooden chain that he cut out of a survey stake. We also had a stake he had carved balls in it. He told me he use to whittle to pass the time when he was riding to and from the job when he was a lineman. Having worked for a power company I Know what he was talking about now.

I remember that Grandma and Grandpa came with us to the cabin one time when we still lived in West Valley. We went to a fishing pond and they watched as my brothers and I took turns catching fish out of the pond. While we were at the cabin, I remember that Grandpa made a whistle out of a willow stick. I would like to know how he made it. I have always been intrigued by how he did that.

Beloved Songs, & Poems

Sally called me the other day and asked if I had a copy of the poem Vacation Time that Gramma Jones recited. I thought it might be nice to publish it and two other favorites here for any who don't know them.

This is one song that I loved to hear Mom sing. It made me cry (still does) and yet I would beg her to sing it again. I never got tired of hearing her sing it. {I still ask Beth to sing it for me!}

THE LITTLE FRISKIES
Way over in the meadow
In an old hollow tree
Lived old mother Frisky
and her little friskies three.
The mother stayed home
and kept the house neat
While Mr. Frisk hunted
them nice nuts to eat.

One very fine morning
Mr. Frisk did not come.
Mrs. Frisk said "dear children
I must bring him home.
Some very bad people
Are traveling about.
Lie still in your nest,
and don’t you stir out."

She put on her bonnet
and started to run.
A very bad man
Came along with a gun.
He lifted his gun -
it was loaded with lead -
and shot Mrs. Frisky
the squirrel quite dead.

He then took her home
and cut off her tail
and hung up her skin
on the wall on a nail.
And when the skin was
quite dry and quite tough -
He made little Bessie,
his daughter, a muff.

The poor little friskies
they cried and they cried.
But no one came near them
and so they all died.
In the cold stormy weather
when the north wind doth whirl -
Bess keeps her hands warm
in the skin of the squirrel.

Mom loved to read and tell stories and poems. This is one that I have fond memories of and I think that it's one she listened to when she was little.

LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE

Little Orphan Annie’s come to our house to stay -
To wash the cups & saucers up,
And brush the crumbs away,
And shoo the chickens off the porch,
And dust the hearth, and sweep,
And make the fire, and bake the bread,
And earn her board and keep.
And all us other chillun
When the supper things is done
We sit around the kitchen fire
An’ has the mostest fun
A listenin’ to the witches tales
‘At Annie tells about!
An’ the goblins ul get you
If ya don’t watch out!

Once there was a little boy
Who wouldn’t say his prayers.
When he went to bed at night
A waaay up stairs -
His mammy heered him holler
An’ his daddy heered him bawl.
But, when they turned the covers down,
He wasn’t there at all!
They seeked him in the rafter room
and cubby hole and press.
They seeked him in the chimney flue
and everywhere, I guess.
But all they ever found
Was just his pants and round-about.
An’ the goblins ul get you
If ya don’t watch out!

And once there was a little girl
Who would always laugh and grin,
And make fun of everyone,
and all her blood and kin.
And once when there was company,
And old folks was there
She mocked ‘em and shocked ‘em
And she said she "didn’t care!"
And just as she kicked up her heels
And turned to run and hide,
There were two big black things
A standin’ by her side.
They snatched her through the ceilin’
Fore she knowed what she’s about!
An’ the goblins ul get you
If ya don’t watch out!

An’ Little Orphan Annie says -
‘At when the blaze is blue
And the lamp wick sputters
And the wind goes ooo-ooo-ooo
And you hear the crickets quit
And the moon is gray
And the lightnin’ bugs and dew
Is all quenched away -
You better mind your parents
And your teachers kind and dear,
And cherish them that loves ya,
And dry the orphan’s tear.
And Help the poor and needy
‘At clusters all about —
Or the goblins ul get you
If ya don’t watch out!

...and one that I especially loved to hear and love to tell is...

VACATION TIME

Vacation time at last is here,
The jolliest time of all the year.
Away with books, pencils and pens
Now is the time to visit our friends.
We always to the country go,
Me and my youngest brother Joe.
We jump the fences, climb the trees,
And run through the meadows chasing bees.
Eat peaches, apples, plums and grapes,
And get in lots of awful scrapes.

But then it’s vacation time you know,
I don’t think folks ought to mind things so.

One day last summer Joe and me
Went down to the meadow the bull to see.
We couldn’t get a very good look at him,
So we let down the bars and walked right in.
You should have seen his shining eyes.
Joe said, "He’s taking in our size!"
And he frightened us so, Oh! Good stars!
We clean forgot to put up the bars.
And that mean old bull, just as sure as you’re born,
walked right through those bars into Grandpa’s corn.
Joe and me didn’t know what to do
As ear after ear we saw him chew.
Grandpa made an awful fuss
And he allowed it happened all through us!

But then it’s vacation time you know,
I don’t think folks ought to mind things so.

I’ll tell you my Gramma sure knows how to bake.
You never tasted such pies and cake
One day we were hungry and wanted a bite
And Gramma was nowhere in sight.
The things were on a high up shelf.
So we got a chair - and had to tip toe.
And that clumsy fellow my brother Joe -
I just gave him the least little bit of a tilt
And he sat right down in a pan of milk!
Gramma had an awful time getting his clothes clean.
And she allowed he spoiled every bit of her cream!

But then it’s vacation time you know,
I don’t think folks ought to mind things so.

Old dog rover’s a nice old chap,
But he likes to take his afternoon nap.
Joe and me spied him asleep one day
And we vowed we’d make him get up and play.
So we slipped in the milkhouse and got a tin pail
And tied it fast to old Rover’s tail.
And then we skeered him and he run like sin
And bittered and battered and spoiled the tin!
Grandpa came out and all the rest,
And said, "You boys must be possessed!
And if you don’t leave the animals and things alone,
We’ll pack your clothes and send you home!"

But then it’s vacation time you know,
I don’t think folks ought to mind things so!

I have these three pieces in Mom's handwriting - If you don't and want a copy let me know!

JUST LOOK WHAT THEY STARTED! ~ REUNION '09

Long ago and...

WiSh YOU were here!

What a FAMILY! Sure did miss all of you who were unable to be here this year. Just being together, catching up on each other, and sharing memories of times past... who could ask for anything more!?

Next one is in the year 2011. We all have plenty of time to plan on being there!

LOVE & HUGS to ALL!

"Button, button..."

We were together last weekend and were standing around talking when Hannah (Collins's four year old daughter) found a penny. My dad (Ray) showed her how to play "Button, button, who's got the button". We talked about how Grandma Jones used to play that game with us. Because of her arthritis her fingers didn't close together very well, but she would cross her pinky fingers together and play anyway. It was fun to see a little tradition like that being passed down--my Grandma Jones taught that game to us and now Hannah's Grandpa Jones taught that game to her.

Fun Times Back In The Day...

Dad taught me to Double Dutch jump rope! Can you believe it!? He really did. We used to go on picnics out in the desert east of Mesa. I remember one Easter picnic when we found a nice gully out in the desert with a large mesquite tree for shade. We did the awesome picnic packed by Mom, hid and found some colored eggs, and then Dad went to the trunk of the car and pulled out two neatly bundled ropes. He proceeded to inform us that we would be jump roping - but not the way we were used to. This was going to be Double Dutch. I thought he was crazy. He was just going to tell us how and then laugh at us or something. Well, lo and behold, the next thing I knew we were turning the ropes and Dad was doing the jUmPinG!! He was really good. He taught us by example! I was so impressed, and all of us had a great time!

One of the other really good times with Dad was when he would take us to the river as a family and help us catch baby frogs, splash a lot, and hold onto me in the deeper water. It must have been the Salt River. It was such a fun way to cool off in the extreme Arizona summer heat. I remember how special it was to see Mom in a swim suit. Dad, on the other hand, would roll up his levis, take off his shirt and drop the top of his underwear down around his waist showing his farmer tan! We usually had watermelon (raised in a huge patch to the west of Grandad Cluff's) to further refresh us. We could get the juice all over us, and merely dip back in the water & the sticky was gone for a clean trip home!

Dad loved playing jokes on others when he had a big audience. We used to travel from Mesa to St. George, and then with Uncle Ordell's family head out to Black Rock on the Arizona Strip to camp. This particular time Grandpa Jones and Aunt Harriet came with us. Tarps were pitched against a stockade type fence and many quilts and bed rolls were spread in a row underneath for bedding down the whole clan later. There was always great dutch oven potatoes, fascinating stories, and singing. Dad was ready with the harmonica. I don't know how good he really was, but I loved listening to him. It had been dark for quite a while and Mom and Aunt Lorraine had gotten the little ones to sleep. Some of us lay there ready to doze off, and some were softly whispering to each other. All of a sudden there was this LOUD pounding thump-thump, thump-thump, and at the end of the long tunnel of tarp - dimly lit - you could barely see what looked like HUGE antlers! Aunt Harriet screamed, "It's a deer, it's a deer! O, lordy, lordy, it's a MAN!" Heads came up one at a time like backward dominoes along that wall of bedding! Dad had sneaked away, got a huge dead limb with antler-like branches on it's end and had stomped it across the ground with a heavy thump-thump, thump-thump, knowing all along that he would cause a comotion. And he surely did! No one there will ever forget - " ...lordy, lordy, it's a MAN!"

I sometimes forget with all Dad's stern discipline, that he loved a good time!

Games and songs!

Dad in his younger years liked to play checkers. He and Ray use to have quite the games until Ray got where he could always win. Mom on the other hand would take on any game and always held her own. I remember at a reunion her sister Glenda was trying to get mom to say, "Boots without spurs". Mom would say Boots without spurs and Glenda would say no! Say boots without spurs. I was surprised it took mom as long as it did. She would try to put the effaces on the same words as Glenda. Glenda was yelling no! Say boots without spurs. Mom finally said Boots. And the laughing started. That was what they did best. Laugh!

Mom always said I saw UP on a box car.Or Who is buried in Grants tomb.
And Dad would say Railroad crossing look out for the cars can you spell THAT without any R's.

I think Mom taught all of her kids all the nursery rhymes. Today most people don't even know what they are. Mom and Dad both knew a bit of verse and would tell stories like "Little Orphan Annie".

Dad and Mom both liked to sing and had some great songs."The Friskies" a proven favorite. "She's always chewing gum", "The whitie manie", and "I went to school" to name just a few. We always sang when we went anywhere in the car. Dad liked the Hymn "Love at Home" (I think it was because we were always fighting). Dad use to tell about a little bantam roster he raised and used in a play. I think it was Jack in the bean stalk. He would sing songs from that play. Now I wish I knew them. Mom took it a step farther. She was in a group called the Singing Mothers and went to Salt Lake to sing in general conference. I remember she sent a post card home of the Tabernacle choir with her seat circled so we could watch for her on TV. We didn't get to see her. Mom sang alto and I always liked to sit by her in church just to listen to her sing.

Mom always had Double mint gum in her pruse and after the sacrament you could have a half of a stick or something. I thought Double mint was the only kind of gum you could buy for years. I remember coming home from church to the farm when Starburst candies first came out. It must have been fast Sunday and mom had a bag of Starbursts. They tasted so good and Mom decided to write a letter to the company that made them and see if we could get a free bag of candy out of it. We waited for a long time to get a reply but we were all disappointed all they sent was a thank you letter.

I think it was after my mission mom made up her mind she was joining in a walk for a cure. I think it was for birth defects. Mom walked from Littlefield to Bunkerville park. She was the oldest walker and got a ribbon. What a heritage we have.

Games Games Games

Grandma Jones enjoyed playing card games and board games. She liked skip bo and uno and yahtzee. She had monopoly, life, scrabble, memory and many many more. We would play games all the time.

Here is a picture of Grandpa Jones after Scarlet had done his hair, complete with a bow. This picture was taken around April 1993. I remember Grandpa enjoying having his hair combed. He would sit and let us comb his hair. He was patient with us girls and let us put bows and ribbons in his hair while we were combing it. Of course, once we were done we had to take them out and comb his hair like it was supposed to be.

I really like this picture of Grandpa. When I think of Grandpa, this is how I remember him (without the bow, of course!), in his overalls and a work shirt.

MOM'S EXAMPLE OF CHARITY

In the mid to late fifties, there were many out-of-work men that we referred to as hobos. I think they must have been drawn to our grey home on 8th street in Mesa, AZ. Not only was it inviting with a neatly kept yard, lots of flowers and HUGE cottonwood trees that lined the ditch across the street, but I think they could feel the spirit of charity that MOM radiated. I recall a number of times that there would be a knock on our back door (they never came to the front) and a scruffy, disheveled, but kind-eyed, soft-spoken man would ask for something to eat and sometimes offer to do chores in exchange. MOM was always sincerely respectful and said if they would wash up at the garden hose or the utility sink she would fix them something. I loved watching her fearlessness and tenderness as she prepared a sandwich (probably leftover roast), some fruit, a mason jar of cold milk and a piece of cake or cookies, and placed them in a brown grocery bag. She only ever asked that they give back the mason jar. I would watch from the big picture window as they went across the street and sat on the wooden bridge over the ditch, dangling their feet just above the water, in the shade of those GIANT cottonwood trees. I wouldn't take my eyes off them. I was waiting for that transformation to happen that I had heard about in primary or Sunday school. I just knew that it was Jesus that came to our door as a beggar, and because of MOM's kindness and love he would reveal himself. Even though I never saw that transformation, I know that MOM passed that test with flying colors. She not only gave them food, but dignity. And, I did see the gratitude and joy that came over the washed and fed hobo!

Gathering Eggs

I remember going with Grandpa to feed the animals and do the other chores at their house when we would visit them in Littlefield. One particular experience stands out in my mind. I remember helping Grandpa gather eggs from the chicken coop. I was quite young at the time, probably 5 or so. I remember realizing that Grandpa was heading out the door. So I took my handful of eggs and started for the door. Of course, Grandpa closed the door behind him, probably to keep the chickens from escaping. When I got to the door, I couldn't open it. As I kept trying to open it, while exerting pressure on the door I also exerted pressure on the eggs, and they broke and got all over me. I remember I started crying, and Grandpa must have heard me, because he came to the rescue. He helped me out of the coop and helped me clean up with a hose.

Puzzles

Grandma Jones liked to do Jigsaw Puzzles.
It seems she had one going most of the time. She also
liked search a word puzzles.

Service to others

Mom and Dad were always involved in service. When we lived at the farm we had to haul all of our culinary water. Dad made arrangements to get water from Rob Faucet. (no joke) A man who lived on 500 south just east of Main street. Dad paid his water bill to be able to fill up our barrels there. I know Rob would not have had water if it hadn't been for mom and dad. We even had to fill our water barrels there after we had a home in town. We had an old silver single axle trailer at the farm. I think Dad had moved it from over by the black rock pond. The trailer was like a small travel trailer and a man dad picked up at Rob Faucet's named Foot came to live in the trailer. He was there to help with the work and to watch the farm whenever we were gone. I don't know how many years Foot lived there but he always had meals with us. He was a stray that needed a hand.
After Foot left there was an old wooden shed across the street from the house in St. George. It was a home at one time but the windows were all broke out and it was falling down. One day a man moved in and of course Dad had to investigate. This man was who we knew as O B. His real name was Orsal Bowers Covington. He was moved into the trailer and dad got him a job at the feed store cleaning up the grain that would spill on the floor. They had a deal that they would raise pigs with the grain and sell the pigs and split the profits. So O B ended up at the table. After he got his money from the pigs, he was gone. After complaining he had been shorted of course.
The next one I remember was a young man who stopped at the lodge in Beaver Dam when we lived there. He was a draft dodger or at least that is what Dad always thought. He ate at the table and helped around the place for a couple of weeks. Dad bought his tool box which was really just junk so he could get gas and move on. Looking back we never went hungry but I think we lived close to the poverty level but Mom and Dad would do whatever they could. I don't know what influence our family had on these people but they at least left our home with an understanding of the Gospel. I don't know why I need to write this stuff but this blog keeps me up at night. I wake up and there is something I need to put in this blog. Please forgive my poor language skills and poor explanations but I know when moved by the spirit I must act even if I don't want to.

We found this fun picture of Grandpa Jones and LeGrand visiting while laying on the trampoline.
It was taken in August 1996.

It was 15 years ago yesterday that Mom left us. I'm glad she didn't have to hang around and suffer through some of the things incident to old age but I sure miss her at times. She kept me up-to-date on all the happenings in the family- births, deaths, graduations, marriages etc. as well as the latest on the people I grew up around.
She had a thing about eating things that were blue. She said, "Nothing that you eat should be blue". I guess the reason she left us when she did was because she must have gotten word that they were going to put blue M&M's in the package. Within the year after she died there were blue M&M's. She would have been miffed about that.

Star Quilts

Grandma Jones used to make quilts with a star pattern on them. I remember playing underneath the quilts and also helping to tie them. She had a saying about stiching on Sunday. She said whatever you stiched on Sunday you would have to pick out with your nose in heaven.

Last picture I know of Mom and Dad

This picture was taken March 19, 1994 at Nancy and My wedding, before mom passed away in May.

Mom use to tell about her sister Mildred braking her arm cranking the old model T. She use to reluctantly tell about the first time she drove a car. She was going to mutual and missed the bridge and ran the front tire in the ditch. She was all embarrassed because her dad had to get a tractor and pull her out. Maybe Jim or Paula remembers the details of that story better and could share it.

I remember the first and only time I saw Mom ride a horse. We were at the farm and Dad had put the cows in the pasture and he had a horse tied up at the house so we could jump on and drive the cows out of the alfalfa so they wouldn't bloat. That was usually my job but I was gone for some reason and when I came back here was Mom on old Ginger coming back from driving the cows out of the field. I didn't even know she knew how to ride a horse much less drive cows. I was all amazed but she didn't want to talk about it. She liked to keep things like that secret like knowing how to milk that way Dad wouldn't ask her to do it.

Dad, Ray and I had been up to the head of the ditch where we spent a lot of time trying to get the water from the virgin river to run down the ditch. We had the team, Doc and Bill and the hay wagon. We had hauled a big load of tumble weeds up and used them to hold the sand so we could dam off the river. It was late afternoon and we were headed home for lunch. As we came up the hill by what we called the flat here came the tractor. It was Mom coming to get us. Mom driving the tractor who would of thought it. The road up there was really sandy and Dad had got after her for trying to get there with the pickup. He didn't want her up there alone stuck so she just brought the tractor. She got on the hay wagon with Dad and Ray and I drove the tractor back.

Little things

These are some of the little things I remember about Grandma and Grandpa. When I eat before we say the blessing I often think of Grandma and what she would say about that. She would tell us to open our mouths while we prayed so that the food inside would be blessed. When I buy soft batch chocolate chip cookies I remember Grandma. I open the bag and smell inside and it take's me back to Grandma's kitchen in Littlefield. I remember her always having M&M's and cheetos in yellow tupperware containers. Grandpa grew the best melons ever. I'm always a little disappointed when I eat melons because none of them can compare to Grandpa's. He had a gift for growing them.

Happy Birthday dear Wanda!

When I hear the phrase "an elect lady" Wanda is the lady that comes to mind. Here are a few words to pay tribute to her on her birthday:

• Wanda was always happy
• She loved and cared unconditionally
• She always put others before herself
• Her family was very important to her
• She was a great seamstress!
• She and her daughter, Amy were best of friends
• She had a strong testimony
• She was extremely organized
• She was very artistic
• She had many talents and great ideas ~ I'd always call on her to help
• She had a way of listening and really hearing what you said
• I always looked up to her
• She was like a big sister to me
• She was a good mother

I miss you!

If my memory serves me right today is Wanda's birthday. I hope her kids will leave a tribute to her on these pages. I have alot of memories of her and especially at the house on east greenway. She was the one that seemed to have it all together and remembered where she had put it. In fact, I was always intimidated by her and I think that is probably why. She had a plan and went to work at it. She was always so organized and wanted to be in charge. She certainly was the oldest child. We're getting short on sisters and I miss them.

I wanted to share these pictures. When dad came to Missouri to live with us this is one of the things he brought with him. They were in a double frame that folded together. When the dementia set in and dad started running away he would take these pictures with him.

As far as dates - On the back of the picture of Mom in her handwriting it says "1950 ?"

There is no date on the picture of Dad.

I really noticed a striking resemblance to Dustin when I looked at the picture of Dad.

More than I have ever seen in my life!

When we were first moving or thinking of moving to the Farm in St. George. I was with Dad on a visit. He took me way out south of town toward the Arizona strip. When we had gone what seemed like a long way we came across more sheep than I had ever seen in one place in all my life. I figure I started the 2nd grade when we moved to St. George so I must have been about 7 years old. We stopped and I couldn't figure out why we were there. Dad was always good at keeping me in suspense by not saying much about what we were doing. I think we were driving in an old red Dodge pickup and we stopped in the middle of this herd of sheep. We got out of the truck and were looking at the sheep or at least that is what I was doing and Dad started yelling. Pretty soon someone was yelling back. I looked up and here came an old man with a yucca stem in each hand using them as canes to walk. It was my grandpa Jones (James Simkins Jones). He was out there in the middle of nowhere herding sheep. That is about my first memory of Grandpa Jones and if my calculations are right he would have been about 84. He could really truck along over the rough terrain with those canes.
Ray reminded me of a sheep story that dad use to tell one of the few I remember. Dad was herding sheep and was down in the Cedar Pockets area where the freeway goes through now. I think he was herding what they called the dries. (sheep that had weened their lambs) Dad liked to herd the dries because once you got them settled down away from their lambs they were ready to rest and feed along slow and they stayed together pretty good on their own. Dad had the sheep bedding down somewhere close to the mouth of Sullivan canyon. During the warm spring days they would feed up the river and he would bring them back at night. Dad found a book in the sheep wagon a western. I never knew Dad to do much reading but he said he was walking along reading the book. He was on the North side of Cedar Pockets going up a ridge. He liked to get up above the sheep so he would be ready when it was time to turn them around and head back to camp. As he went up the ridge all at once he heard a buzzing noise first right in front of him and then all around him . He was surrounded when he looked up out of his book. He said here were rattle snakes in big balls all over the ground. More snakes than he ever saw in his life. He said the only way out was to walk back the same tracks he made when he walked in. He said he never did much walking and reading after that.

"I almost swore"

I just joined the blog and was reading over the memories that have been posted. I had to laugh about the story and comments about Grandma and the "s" word. It reminded me of a story about Grandma. It was at the anniversary celebration for Grandpa and Grandma's 40th wedding anniversary. The party was over and we were finishing cleaning up. I don't really remember who was still there, but there were only a few of us still at the house with Grandpa and Grandma. We were in the living room and Grandma saw something either high on the wall or on the ceiling. She looked at it and said, "What the hell is that?" and then stopped and said, "I almost swore there!" Then we all just started laughing with her. Grandma had such a good sense of humor.

Elder Perry's talk from conference about the sheep stuck on a ledge reminded me of a couple of sheep stories that Dad used to tell. He basically grew up at the sheep herd. As a teenager his dad started a sheep herd and after he was married he made some of his living herding sheep for other people.
Before the days of the Bureau of Land Managment the west was pretty much an open range. All the water sources were claimed by someone but outside of that the land use was mostly by gentleman's agreement. The Homestead Act made ownership of some land possible but there were still vast areas of wilderness open to common usage. One such area was what was referred to as the "lower valleys". As you go south on interstate 15 from St. George you cross the state line into Arizona and start down into what becomes the Virgin River gorge. Springtime came early in those areas along the virgin river like Cedar Pockets and the surrounding valleys. Because of the early season, it was a great place for the sheep to have their lambs (they lamb in the Jan. - Feb. time frame) and there was fresh green feed. By the first of the year the cheat grass, bottle stoppers, and fillerie were growing and new hope came to the sheep man.
Now to the talk by Elder Perry. Early one spring in the lower valleys the sheep were feeding along the ledges in the gorge and a big ewe did just like the one in Elder Perry's story, she ended up on a small overlook and couldn't get turned around to go back up and there was no way down. It was time to move on with the herd and here was this sheep where she was inaccessable and unable to help herself. Dad had 2 options. He could go off and leave her or shoot her from across the canyon and let her carcass fall and salvage the meat. He couldn't just leave her there and let her go to waste so he decided on the second option. He aimed at her head but just as he pulled the trigger she jerked back and the bullet grazed across her nose and hit the rock right next to her face. The shattering rock suprised her and she backed off the ledge, fell several feet then rolled on down the hill. At the bottom she shook herself off and rejoined the herd. Hardly the spiritual ending that Elder Perry concluded with but a real life illustration of what Dad was like.

Another sheep story.
It was early in the year and Dad was 17 or 18 years old. He and his dad were trailing the sheep to the lower valleys for lambing season. The ewes were heavy with lamb and had a hard time getting up out of the washes that the trail passed through so Dad was helping these ewes up out of the steep places. He came up out of a wash half carrying half dragging a heavy ewe and as he stopped to rest he could hear some one yelling. He listened for a moment and didn't recognize the voice so he climbed up a little higher for a better look in the direction of the noise. Down the canyon a way at the head of the herd was his dad holding the bridle of a mule that Ern (must have been short for Ernest) Larson was ridding. He was goading the mule with a rifle and trying to get it to run over him. Dad ran down to see what the commotion was and as he approached he realized that Ern was claiming the lower valleys for the Larson sheep and "those damn Joneses had no business being there." and "He'd whip every last one of them if he had to". Ern was in his late 20's and a large man with a big mouth and a tough guy reputation that made most people afraid of him so he generally got his way. Dad heard the challenge and told him to put up his gun and get off his mule. Ern was too proud to resist. As soon as he hit the ground Dad was in his face with both fists. Dad had very quick hands and Ern was way too slow. He never landed a punch. Dad pummelled him around the head until he said he had had enough. They helped him onto his mule and sent him up the trail towards town. Turns out he stayed out of town for a couple of weeks while he healed up so he wouldn't have to explain what had happened.
Because he could, and didn't learn a better way, Dad tried to solve most of his problems with his fists. He had a way around people that made him very likable but any disagreement brought out his short, hot, temper. I wish I could have inherited some of his stellar traits instead of his hot head.

The old Farmall and one scary memory!

This tractor that Ray found was the first farmall that Dad had in Mesa. He bought another one a couple of years newer just before we moved to St. George. This one had a steel cast stearing wheel is how I remember it. The newer one had a composite hand grip on the wheel. Dad was discing the field between the house and the barn in Mesa on 9th street. Ray and I went out to watch and dad stopped to move some rocks or something so we raced out to where he was. The disc, one we latter had at the farm it had a rack in the center for adding weight. We thought it would be fun to ride on that rack. Ray was the only one that would fit so I had to ride on the tractor standing on the drawbar. Dad got on the tractor and away we went. The field was a lot rougher than I thought and the disc was doing some major bucking. I remember seeing Ray fall off the weight rack and yelling at the top of my lungs to get dad to stop. It seemed like it took forever for him to stop but we didn't go more than a couple of feet. Dad grabbed Ray out of the dirt and did a quick check to see what was missing and ran him to the house. I remember standing there wondering what to do. I knew it was bad because Dad just left the tractor sitting there running. I think Mom took Ray to the doctor or hospital and after what seemed like a long time Dad came back to the tractor. He made me walk and he drove the tractor and parked it. When I saw Ray next he got home and looked preaty sad. The disc had made a cut under his eye and he had stitches. I am not so sure to this day that he fell on top of the disc not under it but that was how I remember it.

When we attended Lena's funeral, I wanted to stop off by "the farm" as there is an exit not far from the Atkinville wash. I had seen this tractor alongside the old road to the farm and recognized it. When we moved to Littlefield we left this old Farmall 12 behind. Someone had tried to take it and managed to get it as far as the old Price bench and had abandoned it there. I had seen it there when the road was still dirt and thought, "I really ought to go get that old tractor". Imagine my surprise when it was still there and has been used as a landscape piece by the church that apparently owns this parking lot. Dad brought this tractor from Mesa. I only remember using it a couple of times. Dad said it was too much of a gas hog.
This tractor reminded me of a tractor story that Dad told.
In the days before hydraulics were used to raise and lower implements they were fitted with a cam and lobe affair that was attached to the axle. A rope was pulled from the tractor seat that would dog in the lobe and turn the cam to raise the plow (or whatever implement was being used). Dad was plowing and had attached the rope to his waist so it would be in easy reach. He had probably done the same thing lots of times before. However, this day the pin that held the plow to the drawbar bounced out. With the plow in the ground it stopped immediately jerking him out of the tractor seat and onto the ground seriously injuring his back. The tractor continued on down the field for a short distance when it started to turn around. It came back toward him and he was afraid it was going to run over him. He managed to stand up, move to the side and reach over the tire as the tractor went past and knock it out of gear. I don't remember exactly how he got from the field to the hospital but for the rest of his life he had a large discolored area in the small of his back 10 to 12 inches wide and about 4 inches high that looked like an old bruise.

Beans & Hot Rolls

Back when I was little, and maybe even on to the years when she lived in Littlefield, Mom had a schedule. Not the daytimer kind of schedule that a lot of us keep today, but a certain day of the week was set aside for specific chores. Maybe it was because that was the way she grew up (as Grandma Lofgreen talked to me about having scheduled chore days), but I know that Mom loved order in things. She liked knowing there was a plan to follow, and she was very obedient about following it. (Hmmm...this could be likened to her spirituality as well.) There was wash day, ironing & mending day, cleaning day, Primary day & Relief Society day (way before the block meetings), shopping & errand day, etc. My favorite day was wash day! That warm, moist, Tide suds & Clorox scented air that wafted off the back porch where the wringer washer was doing it's thump-swish, thump-swish. Watching her hook the clothes on a water-logged, bleached-white, sturdy stick and lift them to the wringer, catching them on the opposite side with her other work-loved hand. I enjoyed seeing the clothes on the line - where she had so neatly hung them - dancing gently in the breeze against a bright blue sky. But, mostly I loved knowing what was coming for supper that night! Early that morning before sorting the laundry, Mom (sometimes with help from one of us kids) would sort pinto beans...putting them on the counter and picking out the tiny rocks before rinsing the beans and putting them in a big pot on the stove to cook all day so they would be nice and tender for supper. But that wasn't all - there were those wonderful, yeasty, melt-in-your-mouth hot rolls with homemade butter to go on them! I can almost smell them baking, and my mouth is watering just thinking about them! Warm, simple, tasty and filling! And, because Mom had a plan and followed it, she didn't have to worry about interrupting her busy day to stop and fix supper for a hungry family!

Here is a bit of trivia I learned about the farm at Atkinville. (61/2 miles south of the end of main street of St. George.) During the time that Wilford Woodruff was president of the church, there was severe persecution of church leaders because of plural marriage. President Woodruff was a close friend of the Atkins and stayed there often enough that they added a small room onto their house for him to stay in. The mail for the church was even forwarded to that place for about 6 months and the "Willford room" was the unofficial headquarters of the church.
When we moved to the farm, the old rock walls of several buildings were still standing and Dad put a roof on one and turned it into the milk shed. Next to it was a building that served as an open air shop and hooked to the side of it and used for a pig pen was a small square addition. - I believe we raised pigs in the "Willford room".

Visiting Mom & Beth at the Hospital - and - The Sheep Butt

Ray said...
Here goes- I think I found the right place to leave some graffitti.I have 2 memories that rival for the first in relation to Mom and I'm not sure of the sequence. I'm sure Lyle can add some details on this first one. I remember going to the hospital when Beth was born. They didn't allow fathers to attend the delivery let alone tolerate siblings in the hospital ward so Dad took us to the window of Mom's room and held me up so I could see. I really didn't see Beth but I remember being glad to see my Mom. Glad didn't last long because we had to leave before someone came to tell us we couldn't do what we were doing and it was forever before Mom could come home. (They used to stay in the hospital for a week after delivery.) It seems like we took the horses to the hospital - Lyle?? I could have several stories running together.My next memory is going out with Mom to take some peelings to the sheep. We were living in Mesa (the "new" house on eighth street. Was it green?) I remember the barn being to the west of the house across a small field or garden spot. Anyway, we went out to the barn and Mom went in the pen to dump the peelings in the trough and as she bent over the buck butted her in the rear and toppled her into the trough. She was so mad! She swore me to secrecy about her encounter and only now do I dare divulge these details! That's probably where I got the "S" word she used to say printed on my brain. Is that the first word that comes to anyone else mind when something makes you mad?
April 18, 2009 8:40 AM

WELCOME!

OK, here goes -
For a long time I have been wanting a place for our family to gather no matter the time of day or the place on earth each of us may be. Ray has been wanting a way for all of us to relate stories of our family, especially of Eddie & Thelia, so the younger generation will have that sense of heritage. Since Andi has gotten me started on blogging and face book as a way to journal and keep in touch I pondered with her and we (OK, she) came up with this idea. Each of you will be able to enter this place and anytime you wish will be able to post a story or memory of our parents - Grandpa or Gramma to some, Sister to Aunt Nelda, Great Grandpa & Gramma to others, but dearly loved by all of us. The lessons learned at their guidance are a valuable gift, and those of us who have tales and insights into their personalities can now share with those who maybe don't have those memories.

This vehicle will also allow us to link your blog, or personal/family website so all of us can keep up with each other. I will be the administrator of the site, so any questions or addresses of your blog or website needs to be directed to me. My phone # is 435-467-0303 and my email is paulajhall@hotmail.com - please put Our Heritage in the subject line. If you think someone in your family may have been left off, you will need to send me their email address so I can send an invitation to them to join us.

I'm really excited about this, and hope you will use this place to

* enlighten * entertain * educate * and be excited too!

Love you all to pieces...