Story of Two Lives

Story of Two Lives
By Martha W. Kennington



George Seward Kennington was born September 29, 1879 at Ovid Idaho, the son of William Henry Kennington and Annie Rebecca Seward.
When he was eight years old of age, his parents left the Idaho area and came to make a home in Star Valley.
He was always of an agreeable sunny disposition, an asset to anyone. His father was a polygamist with another wife and family living just a block apart—and each with a large family. Grandfather must have been a diplomat or he was fortunate enough to have married women with the disposition of angels for there was never any friction or the usual family squabbles frequent even in one family.
Grandmother Annie was the first wife, and since polygamy was the rule, gave her full consent that her husband take another wife. A widow of a friend who had with grandfather made a pact that they would enter into polygamy should one survive the other made polygamy a realization.
Grandmother loved her husband and her husband loved her—both were reluctant to enter into the relationship, but a pact was a pact and when Grandfather’s friend was killed he assumed the responsibility of caring for her two small sons and taking the widow as his wife, which was then the rule in the Church though it is said but 2% of the total membership of the church ever engaged in the practice.
George loved his mother and tried to help both his parents in whatever way possible.
Church activity took much of his time, that and roaming the hills fishing and hunting with his brothers and pals.
He was the first President of the Deacon’s Quorum. He was made an Elder likely with his call from “Box B”, as a call to missionary service was then called.
He went on his mission in 1905. His field, the Southern States. There he completed two years of valiant missionary service. On his return he was asked to be the manager of the Branch Store in Freedom, Wyoming which belonged to the Burton Mercantile Company.
He went to Freedom and there in the Freedom Ward he identified himself with various auxiliary organizations principally the Sunday School and here too, romance found him. Although in the meantime he kidded around with several others. Miss Ada Kimball of Thatcher, Arizona who was training as a nurse in the Budge Hospital in Logan, Utah was sent here to care for a patient in Freedom, a Mrs. Granwell McNiel who was seriously ill and since no trained nurse was available in Star Valley the doctor in charge of the case dispatched one of his best nurses to care for the patient.
Practically the only phones in Star Valley were owned by the stores. Miss Kimball confided to her father-in-law that the moment she heard the rich resonant voice she knew he would be her future husband. That was in January and in June the 24th 1903 they were married in the Logan Temple. Their first home was in an addition of the store. Ada was a native of Thatcher Arizona and was born January 4, 1886. Ada was not well a good portion of her married life. Their first son was born October 30, 1910. He was named Winston and lived only three days. November 3 he died.
They were both active in auxiliary organizations. There seemed no part of that small country town they were not a part of.
Ada was frequently called on in a professional capacity to diagnose ailments. I remember when my very dear friend Minnie’s mother was ill of what proved to be her last illness, she was called in to assist Dr. Groom. He was our only authentic surgeon. Dr. West who had been here thru the years was not too well accredited though we must acknowledge his yeoman service. He gave the best he knew to the valley and the community. But when there was a really serious case as with Sister Luthi that needed attention, more expert help was deemed necessary. When she died, I remembered how we sorrowed. I remember being with Minnie as I often was and the sweet way Ada took her in her arms to comfort her and we did appreciate her gentle kindness.
During the next semi-annual conference, she accompanied her parents for her confinement. The twins, Berniece and Clarissa were born the following April 3, 1912. George was enroute but not at her bedside when she died. I remember how sorry the community felt for him in his bereavement.
His mother-in-law, Mrs. Thomas Kimball brought the twins up to Star Valley to put them in their father’s care. His sister, Mollie Low took them into her care giving them devoted service and relieving their father of what could have been a great deal of worry. I remember how proud their father was of them showing them off to everyone who came to the store. I remember how friendly he was to everyone, how he won everyone’s love and confidence. Men used to congregate around the Ben Franklin stove and exchange friendly news items and gossip. I always enjoyed talking to him and hardly remember when he seemed more that ordinary to me. Just how he had ever gotten himself invited to a series of young people’s parties, I don’t know. He always had seemed so interested in what we did that no one thought or remarked that one so much older than we should be invited.
It was after one of the parties as we were all getting into a sleigh and in passing him in the sleigh he took my hand and pulled me down to sit beside him. So then after a rather long time when he was serious in his attentions he was coming to see me at least twice a week.
We were married October 23, 1913 in the Logan Temple. We lived in a small house without heat or running water and the only convience was an old fashioned refrigerator that required blocks of ice to keep things cool.
The twins survived my inexperienced hands. Berniece came to us at once after I had spent a little while in Freedom but Clarissaa was recovering from a bout with pneumonia and was convalescing.
But though I had had no experience it seemed to me so natural to take care of children. I may have seemed awkward but no one criticized or found fault with the way I did things. So I was a happy young girl not yet twenty one.
George soon after our wedding was made Superintendent of the MIA. I was chosen counselor in the Afton MIA. Going to church seemed to me as natural as breathing. George knowing that it meant so much to me never once said anything by way of criticism.
The babies were safe in the care of either Jennie Low or Bertha Kennington, both of whom George had hired, one at a time, of course, as my hired help. I think George thought the care of two babies might be too much for me alone and I enjoyed the company of girls my own age. I enjoyed people of all ages.
I had never had much experience in cooking but I loved cooking for an appreciative husband. My mother, though I was the only girl for a long time, had never given me the needed experience. She was a wonderful cook herself and such, rarely are willing to entrust more inexperienced hands.
I remember asking George what foods he enjoyed. He said, “If I ever drown I hope it will be in soup.” I thought I knew how to cook several varieties of soup so I didn’t worry too much. I had an innate sense for what constituted good cooking and under George’s warm and lavish praise, I soon learned the art of cooking new and varied dishes.
I was young and healthy and taking care of the twins was more fun than work, besides there was community and church work to be done, and I loved it.
The Stake Relief Society President asked me to take an extension course offered by the General Boards. I had never had enough of learning but I felt not in the least humbly hesitant and said “yes” at once.
My first baby was born the day after my 22nd birthday and I was so happy because it was the boy his father talked of endlessly. We named him Garth Stanford, Born April 19, 1915. He is married to Agnes Klein.
Our second child was a daughter we named Guinivere but this name was soon shortened to Gwen. She was born October 11, 1916. She married James Ray and are parents of two children.
Gordon W. was born on October 26, 1918. He married Carol Graham and they have two children. Beverly was born 20 April 1920. Beverly married Tillman W. Lovelace and they are parents of a son and a daughter.
Forrest was born August 10, 1923. He was married to Dorothy Eckersell and they have two daughters.
Audine was born December 19, 1924 and was married to Wendell Stafford. They have seven children, two sets of twins, six girls and one boy.
Craig was born April 11, 1929. He is married to Helen McMullin. They have one daughter.
Eugene S. was born August 26, 1930. He is married to Coleen Corless. They have a son and a daughter.
Ruth Mignon was born October 21, 1934. She is working on her master’s degree in nursing at the University of Washington.
Martha was born September 9, 1936 and died October 21, 1936.
All during this period we lived a full and active life. In June 1919, George was made first counselor in the newly organized South Ward at Afton, Wyoming. I remember it was Apostle James E. Talmage who was authorized to divide the original Afton Ward. I still remember some of his remarks at that conference. They were so portentious and almost prophetic on that occasion. He remarked about the trend of events as they were moving at that time. He said, “They were moving as a tremendous drama, at first slowly with measured movement then swifter and still more meaningful, then the end would come with a crashing climax.” I remember how impressed I was—but events have come with the swiftness he spoke of. But, then, there wasn’t the scientific “know how” there is now and I thought naively that it would be meted out by the hand of God but now I know that it will be men themselves who will seek to destroy each other.
In the early years of our marriage, there was usually a friend or two with us. I surely enjoyed them all. George as much as I. The twins who had had all the contagious diseases in the book now enjoyed good health and nothing at all ailed anyone. Though I remember that the day I came home with Garth the twins came down the only disease left for them to have—the mumps—and since the only thing that I had ever had was the whooping cough which I had had as a little girl. In due process, I got the mumps Even the baby caught it though it was not discernible but he never took it from the other children when they had it later. They all had the disease one by one in the course of the years.
There was a hospital of sorts in Afton, where my first baby was born. But the others were born at home.
Sister Mae Hale was the nurse when Gwen was born. I loved her. Besides we had had a new room built on and it seemed the last word in luxury, which in reality of course, it wasn’t. But the new floors were painted and shone with varnish and new rugs were on the floor. I am sure that whatever budget we had was stretched to the utmost. In those days, no such a thing as a budget was ever heard of—not at least in our house—and more had to be earned. The husband was supposed to manage and I at leas was a novice at finances. George being good and kind indulged me much more than he should have.
We had no conviences such as hot and cold water—but I didn’t mind it so much because I had never had the convience. I remember the stoves which served for heat. Each Monday was wash day. Sometimes-Infrequently the washing would be sent out to a Sister Marriette Eggleston. I know that my mother-in-law, whom I adored, must have often wondered at the stupid things I did. I cringe sometimes in memory of them. They seem almost the acts of a moron than a girl who was reasonably intelligent. But inexperience lets us do odd things. In retrospect, I can see so many reasons for happiness and so many things I might have improved, but I was obsessed with reading and participating in church activities. To me they were the lights in an otherwise rather dull existence. At least I can easily see where it would seem dull to one accustomed to a life of gaiety and pleasure.
I have always liked people and I have always enjoyed every form of church work. George, though he loved to be at home the majority of the time, enjoyed people and did have wonderful leadership ability. All during the time he served in the bishopric, he was faithful to all his duties.
A year and one half after our ward was organized the Bishop died of a strep throat. Bishop Gilbert Taysom was a fine leader. It seemed tous the bottom had fallen out of the ward when he died. I had been a counselor in the YWMIA. I was then put in as president of the organization. I enjoyed every minute of it; though we were often annoyed by the superior airs adopted by the North Ward, who called themselves the First Afton Ward, which of course, they were. But we did resent it and Bishop Taysom did too and encouraged us to excel in the many competitive programs we would have in the various auxiliaries. I knew then as I know now that a spirit of envy and malice is not a part of the Latter Day Saint ideal, uninspired by love and friendship.
I know now that it was a part of not being mature that makes one look over ones shoulder to see how a competitor is doing, instead of being intent on one’s own affairs. But with the North Ward have 90% of the workers we can be forgiven our resentment.
George was chosen as counselor to the next Bishop, C.J. Call who was the contractor of the newly built but not yet paid for chapel.
The new chapel we had hoped would meet all our needs—but with the first spring rains of 1921—leaked miserably, soaking the ceiling and walls. I remember how disappointed the bishopric was at the construction and its betrayal or it seemed like betrayal. Though it was just poor planning on the part of the architect, and perhaps poor construction by the workers. Anyway we were happy with the new chapel even though it was not all we had hoped. The fact that our bishop’s funeral was one of the first funerals held in it saddened us all.
George loved Bishop Taysom. Bishop Call seemed a different sort of man. George was a man who did not aspire to any offices. I loved the work in the MIA. I liked it much better than the work in the Relief Society. I was released from the Stake Relief Society to work in the stake MIA. Though I continued to serve in the Relief Society as class leader. There was so much that was interesting to me in the auxiliary work, Sunday School, and Relief Society. There was so much to do for every willing worker. As I looked over all there was to do, I loved every activity. Now I wish there had been more emphasis on family solidarity. I believe that even I would have sensed that I owed my first allegiance to my home and my family. Instead I was off to meetings, clubs and Auxiliary.
The first club meetings were held under the auspices of the County Extension Officers held for the purpose of learning about food classifications and the proper serving of foods, table etiquette and the little niceties. Those of us who had never had the privilege of going to high school or college were eager for those meetings. The course I had taken for the stake relief society had only whetted my desire for further knowledge. I read anything and everything.
George was so kind and sweet. There was always someone with us and we were full of the joy of living. We were seldom ill. I remember when Esther came down with a mysterious rash. There was no contagious disease and Mrs. Hale who had been my nurse at the time Gwen was born diagnosed it as prickly heat. But when the rash turned into dry flakes on her skin, I said, “I am going to call the doctor to see what on earth you have.” The doctor took one look and pronounced it Scarlet Fever. That possibility had been explored, I said, “It just couldn’t be because she has already had that, besides there is no scarlet fever in the Valley. He replied, “There is scarlet fever around all the time. Some people have it in such a mild form that a doctor isn’t called. Besides it is a fickle disease that may strike an entire family or just one member in the family.” No one else took it though we had never taken the slightest precautions to guard against contagion. I had notified the quarantine doctor and he said it was too late to guard against a possible out break. It always seemed so strange that neither George or I, the twins, Garth or Gwen took the disease. Garth in particular, had been on Esther’s lap almost continuously. He was convalescing from an operation and she was fond of Garth and he her.
I remember that it was the beginning of the time of the division of the ward and every possible means to raise money to help finance the chapel was used. Royal Papworth and Delbert Wilde was to have the twins as their two children. Delbert was to be the husband and Royal the wife. I remember the fun it was to make cute clothes for the girls and how adorable they looked in them. They carried little baskets of floweres on their arms. They were anchored to the basket and what was my humiliation to learn that they were required to throw them before the feet of the queen, Sister Martha E. Roberts. To this day, we do not know whether some of the tin that secured them did any damage.
It was not long after Uncle Dick Kennington died that we moved over to the old home. We did a good deal of renovating. We had what is now the bathroom made into a small kitchen. The front room had been repapered and soon I was going to entertain the Home Economics Club, a club I have enjoyed through the years. I remember there was so much to learn, so many friends to enjoy.
We loved the refurbished home of his mother. I never was a good housekeeper but I loved to arrange rooms. I remember when the Home Demonstration Agent said simple admiration, “This is the prettiest room I ever saw.” I too, thought it was pretty but now I realize that there were many things wrong with it. Too much blue with nothing to set it off. I can see that now but then there seemed nothing wrong with it. There was a world of new ideas to be had and I am glad to have learned that there were things wrong with it then. This is the only way in which we ever know that we have learned and developed. That is the better part of learning.
It was not long before Eugene was born that we moved down to the home Uncle Oz and Aunt Mollie built north of Afton. George thought the move would be good and he could make more money. It was a disastrous time, financially, I mean, everything was at the bottom of the cycle.
Clarissa was the first to get married. She married Ozro H. Merritt of Bedford, Wyoming. I am sure that it was partly because we were staunch Republicans that we did not rail at the Depression as “Hoover’s Depression”. We knew it was world wide thing created by no one man but by man’s stupidity and folly.
George was City Councilman and Mayor of the town of Afton on several different occasions. I remember one year he was mayor, bishop, county committeeman and the telephone company listed our telephone number as AFTON TOWN OF 34 J.
He was released as bishop of the Afton South Ward when we moved. He had served as counselor to two bishops. He was chosen as bishop to succeed Chris J. Call on his release. He chose as his counselors Ben Nield, who had served with him as a counselor to Bishop Gilbert Taysom and then as counselors to Chris Call. Joseph Linford was the other counselor.
We weathered the depression but I know George had worried much more than I had known. Financially we were in debt. That I knew but he did not disclose its true nature to me. I am sure it was to shield me. But I know now that it is never a kindness when a woman knows nothing of her husbands finances and thus is not ready to talk intelligently to her husband and try to expedite matters as best she can.
Life in the old brick house was never pleasant. I detested the high ceilings. There did not seem one advantageous thing. I tried not to show how much I disliked it. Around the first part of 1937, George was showing signs of not feeling well. We urged him to go to a doctor for a check up. He hesitated first having all his teeth removed. Someone had suggested that his teeth might be the cause of his trouble. He had Dr. Papworth pull all of his teeth. His condition seemed to worsen. Finally we prevailed on him to see Dr. Worthen. Uncle Willie went with him. That was after he had had a distressing spell of nausea when we were having Thanksgiving dinner. He had not been feeling well all morning. I fixed some soft bland food for him to eat. But after his nausea, we called the doctor and he being distressingly outspoken stated that he should have an operation and since he was so thin would require intravenous feeding to build him up.
I remember so well the anxiety we all felt. The doctor in his examination had said his body was void of acid content, intimating that could be indicative of a malignancy. We had long been fearful of that since it was not readily diagnosed.
He had to be in the hospital for two days before his operation. Both Uncle Lon and Uncle Bert were permitted to watch the operation.
After the operation, how relieved I was when Uncle Lon said, “His condition is exactly like Bert’s.” Bert had recovered from two operations and was apparently well and completely well and completely cured of his ulcers.
I felt such relief and was voicing my relief to a friend when the doctor came into the room. He asked to talk to me. I thought, of course, it was concerning George’s operation. He had a book in his hands and when he opened it, it revealed a book of brightly colored illustrations. Then he said, “This is your husband’s condition. On the caption of the picture was the word “carcinoma”. How graphically the memory of that night is etched in my mind. My first words on seeing the plated carcinoma, “You don’t mean to say he has cancer. The word “cancer” always seemed to have such fatal connotations to me, allowing no hope and seeming to preclude faith. I, of course, began to cry and asked the doctor why he told me. He answered, “I thought you would want to know”. I said, “I didn’t. I would have nursed him and would have been as good and kind as I knew how to be without that awful knowledge shutting out every prospect of hope, besides the terrible pain he will have to endure.”
Then he began rationalizing. “There are always sedatives and drugs to ease pain; as the need arises they can be made stronger and stronger. Besides he can live five years and gain weight,” He said soothingly as his brusque manner would permit.
I asked only one thing that the true nature of his illness not be heralded to everyone. I couldn’t bear the tones of sympathy and pity on every side. It would be much easier for me to bear alone.
George was a wonderful patient. He thanked us for every small favor we gave him. I know that the state of our economy was a constant worry to him, though he said nothing. Berniece and Clarissa were wonderful, a constant source of strength. He was brought home the twelfth day after the operation. I kept rationalizing that if what the doctor said was true, that his diagnosis could be in error too. A man just couldn’t put on weight and improve and still have this dreadful malignancy. But the doctor had told me the truth as he had told the girls he could not live a year. All of this time I had hope. But it was not until early in June that I said, “I believe consecrated oil would help you.” He said if you think so let’s, have some consecrated. So I had a large bottle consecrated. He obediently took two large spoons full. That night he had the worse night of all. I remember I was up and down with him all night long until I heard the birds twitter in the trees. The he slept a little while. That night I too lost all hope for eventual recovery. It was as if all efforts were destined to be in vain. Then I knew what sorrow. I felt would be sorrow for me and the loss we would feel. I knew self pity never benefited anyone. I knew and always believe in life after death. I knew that he would be infinitely better off in another world than he was in this one where he had a wife, a son, a daughter, father, mother who loved him. So much as I loved him I was willing to surrender my claims that he might have peace. Dr. Worthen, I am sure, anticipated a long siege of pain and gave Clarissa the mildest morphine tablets he had. He thought that as the pain intensified they could be made stronger. But only a few were needed because he sank into a coma and on the 21st day of July 1939, he died.
I was grateful that the end had come so peacefully. Uncle Oz and Aunt Mollie, Lena and Willie and my brother Charles had spent the night by his bedside. I love his memory. He had been a kind, dear husband, always ready to spare me. He gave the children council and advice, setting the example of a clean life obedient to all the standards and ideals of our Church. So we can be sure that if we are true and faithful we can meet him and know him as a husband and a father. He was true to all his covenants and to the Priesthood he bore. May our sons do as much since they each hold the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood as I write. The rest is entirely their own responsibility.
In retrospect I wish I had been a wiser wife and mother, that I had realized that criticism had no value unless it was kindly given and inspired by love for the one with whom one finds at fault.
Returning again to the sadness that surrounded the death of our loved one, Minnie, my sweet true friend was so wonderful to me. I remembered it was she and her husband who returned me to the cemetery to select the choicest of flowers. And through the dreary days that were in store for me, never a day passed that she did not call or come to see me. I loved her for her wonderful loyal friendship that lasted all my life. I remember that it was she who came to see me the Sunday which was unbearably lonely and asked me if I would help here in the program she was in charge of. She, Minnie, had the responsibility of arranging a program to honor the twenty fifth anniversary of the Extension Service. She came down that Sunday to ask if I would write and be in charge of a pageant memorializing that occasion. No assignment was ever more welcome. I knew I couldn’t go on grieving without harm to me and my family. .And nothing is better to take away one from themselves than to give ones thoughts to writing creatively. So I did the best I could. Mr. Bowman liked my efforts even though some people thought it would be too much for me. I had written many things and Minnie knew I would do it for I had written many things over the years and I loved it. I remember once when I was a child I had said to may mother, “I believe I could write.” She rather scorned the idea and I gave up my thought of it. She certainly had to be excused because the world to which she belonged was given over to hard practicality and not fanciful dreaming. Circumcised as it was by a large family of children, tailoring and doing the essentials.
The story of my parents conversion to the gospel was always faith promoting time even though one of my sons attempted to sort of discredit the miraculous in it, saying that the child realizing that he was the center of attention was no longer bothered.
My third brother and their fifth child was stricken with a malady, a scourge resembling leprosy, so heavy and deep were the scabs covering his whole little body. The doctors called it eczema and though doctor after doctor attempted to cure it, it seemed to worsen. Now eczema is thought of as an emotional disease.
Then there was a timid knock on the door. Whether two young men stood on the threshold or if only one announced himself as representing the Restored Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I never knew. This my mother never did tell me though she I am sure she had a phenomenal memory and the events I am sure was as vivid then as when they occurred. I am sure the parents told of their little son’s distress. How discouraged they were. I am sure, too, that it was not long before he explained the principle of healing as Latter Day Saints understand it. We can imagine how graphically our rather excitable father told of the child’s woes even though the young elder,, one Arnold Schulthess from Salt Lake must have sensed the distraught atmosphere of the home. He told them of how the same powers held by Jesus Christ during his mission on earth was delegated to men through the Priesthood of God.
One can visualize the scene how they watched the young rosy cheeked Elder pouring oil on the scabrous head and anointing it with oil and praying. Oh so humble that the terrible affliction might be halted and the child so afflicted might have peace. Almost instantly the skin seemed better, within a few days the scabs dried and all the pain was eased.
They had had the faith because there was no one else to turn to—and now there must be more—a full conversion that the Church of Jesus Christ was true.
About four years after they migrated to America. I often wonder why I was so careless as not to hear the account and write it as it was told by our mother. All the years yet t be were lived in the absolute faith and integrity of that single incident which opened the door of what seemed to be another world to those young people and the family which came to them. The incident was as truly miraculous as those performed by our Saviour while he was on earth.
A large company of migrants accompanied them to the new land.., the America of their dreams. And the friendships formed there will last for always.
I have always appreciated the principles of the Gospel—believing in them so far as my understanding went. Frequently, no understanding or not quite believing what speaker would say most of the time I held my doubts in abeyance until I had a cleared understanding. Cynicism or skeptical, unwilling doubt of the Gospel never should be a part of us. By and by faith clears away any doubt that may linger. So one has said that the flexibility that permits us to be adaptable to our environment is the highest intelligence. That is true up to a point—there are eternal verities that demand us stay staunch and true and that doesn’t mean we are stubborn and incapable of adjustment. There are more flexible people than those who will leave old ways and old customs for something true and eternally beautiful.
Ever since girlhood I loved reading and with that I seem to have developed a little talent for writing. None of it for financial gain—not that I had no need for –I did! It would have meant all the difference in our lives. I am a bit like Mrs. Dable expressed it, “opposed to poverty”. Who isn’t? But unless I had the stimulus of an assignment or a need the ability seemed wasted. I just couldn’t force myself to write. .In my lifetime, I have written all sorts of things, tributes, obituaries, funny papers, pageants, dramas, short stories, skits, none of which I have kept. They always were so short of what I considered my best, I thought I would do better next time. I remember winning a prize in the Stake Short story contest. This was accepted for publication.
There of course was my expectancy that I would retain the ability, never realizing or thinking incapacity would overtake me. I had had high blood pressure for a number of years without being aware of it. I know that tensions and pressures tend to build disorders of various kinds and so it was with me.
But until went to Doctor Beal for a check up was I ever aware of it. He said I had the most dangerous kind, the kind that could mean cerebral or cardiac seizure. I worried about it for days because I had little children. What could be nicer than to meet death instantly I thought.
But such was not my fate.
I suffered my first stroke when I was fifty. I knew it instantly for what it was. My entire right side was affected. It was the only stroke of five that could be attributed to heavy work. I was trying to dig an irrigation ditch in the garden. I had previously assigned the work to one of my sons but he had mistaken my instructions and directed the water in the wrong course. I had another though I apparently had recovered with the exception of an extreme weariness I couldn’t throw off. The next came a week later as I was getting ready to go the 4th of July celebration. This time it didn’t wear off. Berniece called the doctor and he old me not to do as much as lift a finger.
I rested and was rather glad to most of the summer. War was on and since I seemed well I went with the children down to Clearfield Utah where Beverly had rented a home in a housing project. I seemed to have recovered completely. I could walk without too much weariness. But I knew I wasn’t well when a Life Insurance agent came to the door and sold a policy for Ruth when he asked “What about you?” I told him that I had been rejected on several occasions by company physicians. “You look perfectly healthy to me, go see our doctor.” I did and learned that again the pressure was high. I felt like a statistic when the doctor dismissed me.
The next summer I was doing the most enjoyable work I had ever don, working in the Star Valley Book and Music Store. While there I had the stroke that permanently incapacitated me November 1948. I was not alarmed unduly because it felt much like the first one did and had no thought but that I could go back to work for Stayner.
As usual the twins were my best help. They had both gone with their husbands to the Idaho Falls Temple that day. We had rented the house and I had rented an apartment down town convenient for my work and the children’s school. Eugene and Ruth were still in the local schools. Craig had gone to California to go to Junior College at Ontario California near Gwen’s home.
All these more than 10 years I have been a burden on my family. Strange that I once could have worried about instant death. Though life has been made pleasant for me by the kindness of my family far beyond my deserving, I have longed to be able to make restitution for the mistakes I have made in my dealing with my family when I was so quick to criticize and so chary with praise. I often wonder how the family could have all grown to be so honorable when I did so little to help them by way of encouragement.
Born April 20, 1893 in Providence, Cache County, Utah. My parents, Samuel and Verena Goldenberger .Weber I was barely six weeks old when my parents decided to come to Star Valley from Utah. Our first house was a two roomed sod covered house. I remember the logs, white washed inside and periodically whitewashed on the inside—the chinks filled with clay to keep out the cold. It seemed interesting to me and not the least undesirable. Seeing things as they were with my childish eyes I can understand why they always seemed so good. I know our fare was meager and not in the least what a dietitian might prescribe for a growing family of children. Few pioneer families had better so it did not seem a hardship—perhaps to the older one but it was all cozy in our little house.
School did not open many doors to me. The one roomed school house where all grades from 1st to 8th were housed. The poor teacher contended with all ages. The ones who really were interested in learning were given some lessons to study and as we grew older, sentences to diagram. I remember how uninterested I was with arithmetic and how I loved Grammar. I was especially interested and intrigued with parts of speech and composition. The printed word had fascination for me. The eighth grade ended formal education for me, though I never have had enough of reading.
I shall resume where I left off when my dear husband died.
As I have aid before, I was deeply interested in all sorts of activities. Everything seemed interesting. My health was no loner good at least not good enough to take me where I would like to go. But one memorable trip I must thank Clarissa and my sister Lena for. Lena and her husband and her daughter and her husband were planning to go to Texas to bring their son Evan home from his mission. When she first mentioned it to me I discounted it as an impossibility, for there were the children to care for and there was no money for such a trip. But without saying too much to me, she maneuvered things for me to go with them. So in March 1940 we went but not without misgivings. Because I had sense enough to realize that it would be so much responsibility for Clarissa, who bless her heart, has always done so much to ease life for me and my family.
Our first night we stayed at Rawlins in a tourist cabin. I had never been to the eastern portion of Wyoming, so everything was new and interesting to me. The next day we rode through as bad a storm as I have had the misfortune to see. It was through the Denver area. I had never been one to worry and add to a driver’s discomfiture, thinking philosophically that he was as anxious for his safety as ever I could be for mine.
I remember the beauties of Colorado Springs and I would like to live there were I wealthy. All portions of Colorado were lovely when we got passed the storm area. Anyway it was a marvelous trip, the first I had ever had beyond Salt Lake City and was made possible by Clarissa, her cooperative husband, Gwen who loaned or rather gave me the money. The trip cost me nothing beyond the expense of motel and some few necessities required along the way.
For that I shall be forever grateful
We stayed in Houston, Texas as when we had to meet Evan. Not being familiar with the city, we arrived well after dark, we drove to a motel and the attendants were all negro. I thought nothing of that but when daylight came, we could see we were all well within the negro quarter of the city. I have thought much of the sensations that were mine when I learned that, since there has been so much about the segregation problem in the news. I am sure that I wouldn’t by any more objective were I faced with this question than anti-segregationists.
I am reminded that in the racial controversy that Southerners love the negro individually by despise him as a race; while the North say they love the negro as a race but despise him individually. Anyhow we are all God’s creatures and have no right to be hostile. I can’t resist mentioning some highlights of that trip. There was Old Mexico, at least Juarez. In old Mexico we had such fun bargaining. The Carlsbad Caverns were on of the nicest places to see with the stalagmites and the stalagmites , the floor to dome formation in the big room the always 50 degrees temperature was welcome to us even though it was early March the weather was uncomfortably warm.
When we crossed the painted desert with its beautiful clean sand. I couldn’t resist the temptation to take off my shoes and stockings and like a kid wade in the warm sand.
We spent a day or two with Sister and Brother Heber Hanson. We spent a day in the Arizona Temple and I was very impressed with the plants that grew around the temple.
We then drove to Phoenix to see the State Capitol and its beautiful Wrigley Building. From there we went to San Diego. We spent one day going through the Balboa Zoo which is one of the best in the world. There were so many animals of every variety. Every variety of monkey was there from the gorilla to the tiny rather cute ones. But we saw none that were in the process of evolving.
We spent ten days as guests of Myra in Los Angeles, where Eli could find any point of interest with no difficulty whatever. Any point or sight we might be interested in he could find. We visited museums, parks. We rose at 3:00 am on Easter morning to attend the Hollywood sunrise service. We spent part of a day at Forest Lawn Memorial Park. I was very impressed with the statuary there and the picture of the Lord’s Supper, the soft subdued music that filled the air, filled us with reverence and memory of those who had passed away. I remember how I was overcome in “The Little Church of the Flowers”. Everywhere there were lovely inscriptions to remind us of the inevitability of death and the thought of the Latter Day Saints philosophy of life and its glorious promise of eternal life gives peace and comfort to those who believe and are obedient.
We then went to San Francisco. Wandered through China Town saw a wharf or two, rode up and down the irregular streets. Some of the streets were almost perpendicular and breath taking. We saw the Golden Gate and the Bay bridges, the prison fortress which housed incorrigibles—prisoners. I looked at Alcatraz and thought, “How near and yet how far. How sad those who stray.”
From San Francisco, we doubled back to see Boulder Dam and Hoover Dam. We saw some of the interesting night life of Las Vegas. I forgot to mention that we went to hear Aime Semple McPherson on Palm Sunday. It seemed as interesting as a show to me, with its choir, the waving palms, etc. It was so interesting and her talk as empty of real meaning in a spiritual sense. An amusing incident occurred in the passing of the Collection plate. There were representatives form every state of the union with several foreign nations thrown in. The plate passed our seats all together in a row and there was not a single contribution from one of us. I had protested that what we had seen was interesting as a play or a movie but Lena thought the very idea of contributing to any church but our won was sacrilegious.
We arrived back in Salt Lake City for annual conference. Only then did I find out that the three youngest children had the measles. I knew that Clarissa could give them even better care than I could have done, never the less, I felt conscience stricken not being where my clear duty lay.
But it was all so wonderful to take that trip and enjoy it in such congenial atmosphere. I am grateful beyond expression for those who made it possible.
Maybe I should add something of the trips I took to Laramie as a delegate for the Women’s Extension Clubs, one trip to Laramie and then to Thermoplis. I had been a member of the Auxiliary of the Farm Bureau in the Southwestern Region. They gave me that position before I scarcely knew what the Farm Bureau was. Star Valley had been selected as the locale of the next year’s convention. I was quite deep in state affairs, anyway I have seen so many interesting things and have heard so much that is constructive that I know that everything we learn just broadens our horizons a wee bit.
The I, who had thought it was impossible to worsen an already bad situation, broke a hip. The expense really mounted, of course, I had to go to a specialist. An orthopedic specialist, Dr. Hess. Had it not been for the expense and trouble I would have enjoyed my stay at the hospital. My first night at the LDS hospital I was in a ward where the other three women smoked. When I went to surgery, my impulse was to ask for a transfer into another ward, but I didn’t, but one of the nurses did and I appreciated it. Because not alone was the air purer but the visitors were a better type. My own family continued faithful, bless them, and did much to help recovery. Of course, at no time was I in severe pain. The break was on the side which was paralyzed, which was the reason I broke it in the first place. Such an easy fall but the weak bone could not even take that.,
Now as I sit writing, I recall events in my life. The fine wholesome family I was born into, the good parents I had, my good brothers and sisters. All gone now leaving me the weakest of the lot to survive.
May events have flowed past to amaze and sustain me.. I am grateful for the good family of my husband, his brothers and sisters. For my kind understanding husband. Those wonderful children, not of my flesh, who have done so much to help through the years. Berniece who is married to Arthur Roberts, and they have three children, Bruce, Marie, and Carolyn and three grandchildren. Berniece is a housewife and a school teacher. Clarissa, who is married to Ozro H. Merritt. She has four children and four grandchildren. Her children are, Clarice, George, Harold and Von. Fortunately she had been content to remain a housewife that she might care for me. Since my hip was broken, I have not been able to set foot on the floor.
Garth is married to Agnes Klein. They are living in Appleton Wisconsin. He is a professor in the biological field. Gwen is married to James E. Ray. She is a housewife and teacher and with her husband and two children make a home in Fontana California. Their children are Jimmie and Jeanne. Gordon and his wife, Carol Graham Kennington are buying a home in Oceanside California. His is a Chiropodist. I have always appreciated Gordon and how considerate he was of me after his father died. He was wonderful. He has two children Jeri and Guy.