Grandpa

I am amazed that as we go through life we go through a step by step process and are taught as we experience different things. This story starts with a wild hair idea to take pictures of landmarks I remember as a kid. Staci was free and took the trip taking pictures with me. We found the old house in Bloomington where my Dad said his family lived for a while.
The family moved from here to Mt. Trumble. Kent and I have plans to have pictures of Bundy vile this spring or summer.

On the house was this plack that it is registered in the national register of historic places. When I got home I got on the Internet and found this picture. Which is how I remember it as a kid. It is listed on the register as the Blake Wallace home.

Going through the information I found, I figured out that Eddie Lee Jones lived here from the time he was 9 years old until he was 16. Of course he was out at the sheep heard alot in his older years. I remember this house having a screen porch on the front and one on the back. Dad use to tell about sleeping on the porch in the summer. He also use to tell about a ditch along the west side of the house and they had no refrigerator so they built a wood frame by the ditch and hung burlap over the frame and used the ditch water to run over the burlap to keep things cool like the milk and butter. Kitty corner across the street was the Bloomington school. I found a picture of it on the internet it was an artist rendition of it and it looked nothing like what I remember. I called Paula because she painted what was left of the old school for some art class she had. She said she had the picture so I asked If I can get a copy or picture of it. I told her to please post it on this Blog so we may see it here.

Dad use to tell about going to St. George to school so I'm really not sure which grades he attended in Bloomington. He always said he only completed the 8th grade. He did do part of the 9th grade but he didn't finish. He had to stay at the herd. He use to tell about riding to school on a wagon and having to carry the girls across the Santa Clara creek to catch the school bus into St. George.

Eddie Lee Jones built this house when he was married to Reva Wood. Nelda Davidson was a baby when they lived here. He told about Christmas and going to bed right after Santa had come and hearing a big crack and crash. All the plaster on the celling in the living room fell. Crushing the Christmas tree and all the gifts. Like Staci said he spent the night cleaning up.
I came across the divorce decree and Dad had to pay Reva $367.00 for her interest in their property and she got all the furniture in the house. Dad would have been 32 then.

Where this brown house is my Grandpa (James Simkins Jones) lived when I was a kid. He lived in a little two bedroom home with green plaster on the outside. The white house in the picture was next door. The Wheelers lived there.

This house which has an addition on the front where the porch use to be was known as the temple house. It was owned by the Jones Family for those who had to travel to the temple. John Lee Jones my grandpa's Dad held the deed to this property. My grandpa (James Simkins Jones) later was given the deed and his family lived here when they moved back to St. George from Mt. Trumble.

This house had a white picket fence around the yard with a gate in front that was rigged to close automatically. Grandpa Jones use to rent it to a lady that had a big parrot and a neat little car. Ray and I went trick or treating there once when we were small. the lady rant and raved about celebrating holidays. She didn't give us any candy so our trick for her was we took the chain off of the gate that made it close. Of course we made sure the gate was shut when we left.

This is where I tell the end of the story. I found Ester Alice LaFever my grandmother's life story and James S. Jones' Diary and was able to read them. I also found stories by Lavon Jones my uncle recorded by his wife Mary.

I got a phone call last night with news I am going to be a Grandpa!!!!
Thanks Kent and Lindy.

This picture is the end of the old hay baler in Littlefield. it says it is a hay press.

The horse would walk around the front and they would put wooden blocks in the hay and hand tie each bale. Dad use to tell about baling hay with one.