Old Bloomington Schoolhouse

Back in January 2010 Lyle did a post (check it out here) with many pictures of places Dad had lived or houses he had built, and he mentioned my having a watercolor of the old one-room Bloomington schoolhouse where Dad got his formal education.  Well, I finally cleaned out my garage and found it! 

I painted this, I believe, my junior year in high school - so that would make it 1963.  I was sitting on the southeast corner looking toward Utah hill.  There was a partially standing barbed wire fence that was obviously old, and dried cow patties scattered amongst the grass, dust and rubble, so someone had grazed cattle there.  The adobe walls were still standing and most of the roof and rafters were still there.  I remember feeling so special being there with the rest of my watercolor class, because this wonderful old building had personal historic meaning to me.

This watercolor stayed in a dust covered box with many other of my attempts at art (see here) for many years.  I gave it to Dad one year for Father's Day, or his birthday - don't remember which.  He did seem pleased and proud.  Much later still, I remember it thumb tacked to an old bookcase in the upstairs of the Littlefield house.  After Norene moved into the Littlefield house, she had the painting matted & framed and gave it to me one year for Christmas!  Inspecting the painting beneath it's glass you can even see some fly specks on it.  (double click on the painting, scroll to the top and you can see the thumb tack hole and fly specks in the sky)  It is now in my bedroom waiting for me to find a place to hang it.  And that's the rest of the story!

Huntsville, Utah

I have made two trips to the Huntsville Cemetery now. In March of 2010 and in May 2011. My first trip I had such a feeling of being home. It was really neat. Huntsville is located in what is known as Ogden Valley and the cemetery is like an island in the middle of Pineview Reservoir.



The reservoir freeze’s over in the winter.


This is where my great great grandfather settled after bringing his family from Sweden to Utah. They lived first at millcreek and kind of got their feet back under them, then they moved to Huntsville. They built a dugout to live in the first year. See his history in the book “A Simple Faith” Anders Persson Lofgreen Swedish son - Mormon Immigrant. By Ben Lofgreen.
You can also read some history online just search Lofgreen to find it.







There is a boat dock and marina just before you get to the Cemetery. It is located at the end of 1st Street. It was a town with a lot of Sweden immigrants so I think that is why they moved there. It would have been comfortable for them speaking the Swedish language and learning English.



This was taken in March of 2010. You will be able to tell by the snow. In May of 2011 it was just raining. This is where I first ran across the unique head stone with more than one grave marked with it. I have since found several Lofgreen graves marked the same way. Anders Persson Lofgreen is buried as Andrew P. Lofgreen. Two of his three wives are buried here and marked on the sides of the headstone. Kjersti Persdotter is buried as Katie and Metta Marie is buried as Mette M.








The family built an above the ground home the second year and moved in just before Christmas. The home is on the same street that President David O Mckay’s home that he grew up in was. The Mckay home is gone but the old Lofgreen home still stands but has been built on to.


The old Lofgreen house is on the back. Andrew sold his team and harness’s to get the money to buy some farm ground. Then he couldn’t plow it without horses. Katie had been doing some weaving for a family that had horses so he made a deal to trade what they owed for weaving to plow the farm. They were on their way. Andrew took Peter and Benjamin and traveled to work on the Transcontinental railroad. I think they were there when the railroad was completed. I found he owned and farmed 56 acres which was called the north field. See the pictures of what it looks like today.






These pictures were taken from north to south facing East.

I have found a friend in the care taker of the cemetery. He told me this 56 acre parcel just sold and he hasn’t met the new owners yet. It is right across the street from his grandfather’s farm which he now runs.

Here is the cemetery plot map. The main Lofgreen family Plot is in 17 that is where Andrew is buried and others of his immediate family.


In plot 4 is Poul Lofgreen and Anna Truedsson Lofgreen. They don’t have head stones and I found a grave with a head stone Katy Lofgren Peterson buried between them. Poul is Andrew’s older brother and the father of Annie Lofgreen who married Benjamin Levi, first cousins. My great grandparents. I haven’t identified where Katy fits in yet.


On the North side of this head stone is Poul Lofgreen. On the south side is Anna Truedsson Lofgreen. Picture taken from west looking east.

In plot 23 I found Botilla Lofgreen Wilson which is Andrew’s daughter.






Here is the Lofgreen Family plot.




If you are interested in seeing the individual head stones and how they fit in the family visit findagrave.com There is even a picture of Andrew P Lofgreen. You can just look at the Huntsville Utah Cemetery if you want.
There is plenty of geneology yet to do. We talked at the last Lofgreen reunion about making a book for Fred and Ann Lofgreen including their children and grand children and as many others as we can get. Is your history and family turned in?

popsicle stick bombs

In the heat of the summer the treat was popsicles. I know all of my brothers and sisters taught me to make popsicle stick bombs. When I ask my son Dylan he had never heard of such a thing. I can't tell you who came up with it but I do know my family knew how to do it. Maybe one of you know where it came from. Eat you some popsicles and give it a try. Children love them. Popsicles still come on a stick. That in itself is amazing. Of course they do make plastic ones. Have fun!

Some of Jim's sories

Jim and his family were here this week on spring break. I learned a lot of stuff I didn't know.
When Jim came home on leave from the marine corp we were living at the farm. He and a couple of buddies drove out there. When they went around a sharp corner they rolled the car. Jim was riding shotgun and had his hand out holding on. The car rolled over on his side first then on over and landed on it's side on the drivers side down next to the irrigation ditch. Jim was worried about the little guy that was then under him. The windshield was broke and he reached up to move it out of the way. He couldn't get a hold of it and when he looked down to see what was going on 3 of his fingers were bent back over the back of his hand. He freaked kicked out the windshield and climbed out. His two buddies were just laughing. He was the only one hurt. They went on walking down the road and along came Dad on the motorcycle. Jim laughed and laughed as he told how Dad went skidding past them trying to get stopped. He had to turn around and come back and he skidded by them going the other way. I guess It took three times before Dad could get stopped where they were. Dad then rode back to the farm and sent Lena in her old Packard car to pick them up and take them into the hospital in St. George. That is where he met Dr Con. Jim was sitting down and the Doctor just got a hold of one of his fingers and pulled it back into place. He did each finger the same way. I asked if they had given him anything for pain but he said no. They bandaged his fingers around a rolled up ace bandage. Lena and one of her friends were his nurse's while he was in the hospital. He was in the hospital a week. He told about Lena's friend who didn't speak much English had set him up for a bath. She left him to finish bathing and get dressed. When she came back and opened the curtain Jim yelled Oh I'm not dressed. I guess it embarrassed her so bad she wouldn't help Jim again. When he got back to the base the doctors there told him if he had not been bandaged around a roll his fingers would have been ok.

Here is a picture of what is left of the corner and what is left of Jim's hand.

PECANS IN THE CEMETERY

On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree just inside the cemetery fence. One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.

'One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me' said one boy.. Several dropped and rolled down toward the fence.

Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, 'One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me..'

He just knew what it was.. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

'Come here quick,' said the Boy, 'you won't believe what I heard! Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls.'

The man said, 'Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk.' When the boy insisted though, the man hobbled slowly to the cemetery.

Standing by the fence they heard , 'One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.'

The old man whispered, 'Boy, you've been tellin' me the truth. Let's see if we can see the Lord..'

Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to see anything.. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord.

At last they heard, 'One for you, one for me.. That's all.... Now let's go get those nuts by the fence and we'll be done..'

They say the old man made it back to town a full 5 minutes ahead of the kid on the bike.

Beth sent me this it is very similar to a story Dad use to tell.

Christmas memories

The first Christmas I remember we lived in Mesa. I got a push car from Santa and Ray got a Fire car. I remember being jealous because Ray's car was a peddle car and had a bell. I remember pushing Ray in his peddle car up and down the driveway so he could learn how to peddle it. I have looked high and low to find a push car like that but they must not have been very popular because I haven't been able to find one even close. I rode the wheels off of that old push car. When I was about 12 I fixed the wheels using tin can lids and bailing wire and I rode it back and forth in the old blue truck bed. That was the only place I could find that was smooth enough to ride it on.

We always got a Christmas stocking from Santa. It was a mesh material and was filled with nuts, hard tack, ribbon candy, an orange, an apple, and usually a pack of gum. We always opened our presents on Christmas morning not any on Christmas eve. The cows had to be milked and everyone up before we could open presents. More than once Ray and I would get up and have the chores done when Dad got up on Christmas morning. I remember one time jumping into bed with our clothes on and acting like we just couldn't wake up to go do the chores. Dad was ready to get mad and he didn't believe us when we told him the chores were done.

My most remembered Christmas was like the next one. We still lived in Mesa and I had been watching cartoons and seen a goat eating tin cans. I decided I wanted a goat for Christmas. Mom and Dad both tried to talk me out of it but my mind was made up. On Christmas morning I was so disappointed when there wasn't a goat under the Christmas tree. Mom finally convinced me to look out side and there tied to the porch was my goat. Santa had left a harness and a cart and my goat was broke to pull it. I named him Billy and had him around for many years.I never did get him to eat a tin can but he would eat about anything else. Looking back I've been surprised Dad put up with having that goat around all those years. He would climb clear up on the barn and lay there and chew his cud.

When I went to uncle Myron's funeral I was talking with Paula and Allan and we were discussing how poor we had been I remembered a Christmas at the farm. I had wanted a set of walkie talkie's so bad for Christmas. I was disappointed when the walkie talkie's were plastic army green and you had to run a string between them. More than once I remember Dad asking us to give up a Christmas toy for a family that didn't get anything. That was so hard but I don't remember ever doing it for real. I think Dad was just trying to help us understand what Christmas was about.

Through the good years and the lean Santa always came. Looking back I don't know how Dad and Mom did it but they made sure it happened. They were always so excited on Christmas morning. Dad would always say Santa must have left his whole load at our house.

Happy Thanksgiving!

This should bring back some Thanksgiving memories! This was one of Mom's prized appliances. You didn't mess with the roaster. That was back before turkey bags and mom had to have a juicy turkey. The answer was the double boiler roaster. She only got it out once a year to cook the Thanksgiving turkey. I remember one year she took all the turkey left overs and ground them up put in some mayo, mustard and pickles and we ate every drop. We always had turkey for Thanksgiving and it was always the tradition for everyone that could, to get together at Mom's. We always had mashed potatoes and turkey gravy, stuffing, yams, homemade rolls, fruit salad made from fruit cocktail and homemade whipped cream and of course pie which had to include mincemeat for dad and pumpkin. I always ate so much it hurt and I couldn't even look at the pie until later in the day.
The old roaster quit working long before mom did and is just junk but it sure has some memories. It had a red light on the temperature knob and mom was forever yelling don't touch that. Mom would drain the juice off of the fruit cocktail and put it in a glass. Whoever helped in the kitchen(or was willing to get out of her way) got to drink it. You always wanted to be around when the whipped cream was done to lick the beaters. Mom would load the old roaster the night before and you could smell the turkey cooking all night and the next day. Mom could always find something for you to do even if it was just taking some scraps out to the pig bucket. Mom always rallied to the cause when ever her children were around. Even when it was a struggle. She always wanted to be joking around with her kids. She made all holidays fun!

Celebrating a Blessed Life

I don' know how we will count time in the eternities, but I'm certain that we will celebrate Birthdays forever! What a joy to receive a physical body and be one step closer to being like Father!

Mom, Grandad and Gramma Lofgreen must have been so proud watching you grow into the lovely young woman shown in this picture (one of my favorites). And what a great example of womanhood you are to all your children and their children and so on. You influenced so many people in your life of service and good deeds.

HaPpY BirTHdAy, MOM!

We Love and Honor you on this day and always!

Quick trip to Bundyville

On Friday night Sept. 24th out of the blue I got a call from Ray. He says's I am in St. George and I know where the old Jones homestead at Mt. Trumbull is. What are you doing tomorrow? So I made some phone calls and the next morning we were ready to leave St. George about 8am Utah time. First point of interest was hay rocks.








As a Kid they seemed much bigger. Dad use to tell that they would put hay on top of the rocks where the horses and cows couldn't reach it. Then they could have some hay for their camp animals when they were herding sheep.So they wouldn't have to let them graze. They also put grain there if they had it. It was kind of a community thing. If there was hay there, you could use it as long as it was replaced.

If you look close you can see the old road along the other side of this wash. This was called the dug way. Ray explained that the road was dug in the side of the hill which is why it was called a dug way. As we rode along we discussed how the Arizona strip was Dad's escape. When things got too much to handle he would make a trip to the strip. One occasion was after one of his kids was born. He had a big Doctor bill and no way to pay it. He took his team and went out on the strip. He came across a bunch of wood that a forest fire had burned through. He loaded a load on his wagon and took it to St. George. That was no small feat when you consider he had to cut the wood with a hand ax. There was a man who sold wood in St. George and Dad talked to him and he told Dad He would take all the wood he could bring him. That was Dads answer. That was during WW2 and the depression. Dad had a team of horses so he didn't qualify to get a job like many men did. His team was made up of miss matched horses because the government had taken any of the good horses that were around. Dad had a horse named Herman and a mare named Molly who had a club foot. He got a horse named Queenie we thought it was given to him. Queenie could not be tied up by her neck. She would rear back and break anything that was put on her neck. Dad thought he would break her of that so he tied her up with a chain. He was sick when she wore her neck raw trying to break the chain. But he discovered he could tie her up with a string if he just put it around her front foot.
On one trip with a load of wood. Dad was headed down this dug way. The hold backs broke which would normally mean a runaway but which ever horse he had (I thought Molly)(Ray thought Queenie). The horse put her rump against the wagon and held it back all the way down the dug way. Saving Dad's life.
We also remembered Jim Copley being taken out to the dug way, beat up close to death put in the seat of the old KDXU VW bus and with the throttle blocked open sent down the dug way. It was to make his death look like an accident. He did crash but wasn't killed. We didn't ever know what was going on. His story was he was an informant for the FBI. They put up a street light across from the house in St. George so they could watch our house and bugged our phone. The kids were not allowed to answer the phone or tell anyone anything about Jim.

This is the infamous Wolf hole. Anyone who hears about wolf hole thinks of a wolf's hole but it is really a valley. It use to have a corral and a store of sorts. The valley use to hold water and was a way station for people going and coming from the strip.
We visited the school house and took advantage of the restroom facilities. Beth asked does anyone need some hand sanitizer? Dawna was the only one that said yes then Beth announced she had M&M salad but you have to have hand sanitizer to have any. When the dust settled everyone was in line to get it. After a little salad we drove back the direction we had come maybe 1/4 mile went through a gate, climbed through a fence and headed out through the country.

At first you couldn't even tell we were headed to a house. That is how well it is hidden right in plain sight.

We found the old Jones home. It has been plastered but was originally made of Quaken aspen. They would drag them in and let the animals eat the bark off when they would. Then they would peel off the remaining bark, notch them and lay them together to make a log cabin of sorts. We could identify the house because of the windows.

Ray showed us the dugout where the Jones family lived when they first arrived. We marveled when we thought of a family of 7 or more living in it through the first winter. It was just behind the Jones home.

Here you can see some of the Descendants of Eddie Lee Jones standing in front of the Jones home. Dad helped built this house and we felt him close as we pictured Him with his dad building the roof and nailing on the home made shingles. Everyone that went was glad they were there. Even though it meant a quick trip and a long day.