Come blog with me...

2010-08-13T10:27:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of the skinny couple I used to know about a hundred years ago....

Home Sweet Home

2009-11-13T08:04:00.000-08:00

Home...This is the only house I ever lived in growing up. It was a great place. When we first moved in, there were very few houses anywhere close. The "Bayshore Freeway" or the "101"was just a dirt road. Very fast the area built up and homes were built on the block and new families came. Before I was very old nearly every house that was built had a few children until there was appoximately 40 children on the block. Some of these families were: Welte's, Felciano's, Wik's, McDonalds, Smiley's, Susinetti's, Potters, Pablais, Curtwright's, O'Conner's, Skinner's, and Tagert's. Eventually the Baum's, the Roy's, Consani's around the block, Lewandowski's, Randall's, the Houston's and many more. We played 'Hide & Seek', 'Kick the Can', 'Pinky' from the middle of the street and 'House' on a porch or garage of any one of those homes. There were just enough kids to keep us happy and busy...in a day when you just reported home at dusk and nobody worried where their kids were...great times.

My Grandpa Moore and his Family 1875-1967

2009-09-20T10:55:00.000-07:00

This picture is my Grandpa Moore and me in front of his house in Springfield, Missouri.

Grandpa was always really loving to me and kind. I was pretty lucky to have so many grandparents growing up, really. Grandpa was Daddy Roy's Dad. I never met my Grandma Moore, (Lena Mae) as she had died during the birth of their 11th child many years before.

Grandpa was of the 'old school'...the really old school. He never left Missouri after he settled there. He never traveled anywhere, either, except to family reunions or to his sister's homes in Arcadia, Kansas. I loved going there to Aunt Lidia & Aunt Martha's homes. Aunt Lidia made gorgeous patchwork quilts, all quilted by hand, not tied. Daddy knew she didn't have much money so he would buy one of her quilts when we came, to help her out. (I gave one to my cousin Kelli, Uncle Harold's granddaughter, that she has now.) They each had wonderful "porch swings" and they always had time to swing on them with me. Both of them also had outdoor toilets way in their back yards. In fact, I remember a very embarrassing moment one time when we were visiting Aunt Martha. I was about 5 and I needed to use the bathroom. I noticed she had a shiny, brand new toilet right there in her dining room! What a find! I just sat myself down and away I 'went'. Uh oh...no toilet paper...I called for my mom and it was then that I got the news...it wasn't connected yet and that WASN'T the bathroom...Mom was horrified...Me too! Aunt Martha just got a rag and cleaned it up laughing all the time. Mom tried to help her but she just acted like it was 'no big deal', but I never forgot it, believe me.

What a great little town Arcadia was. It looked like something out of the "Sweet Tomatoes" movie. We had many 'feasts' at Aunt Lidia's house with the Arcadia relatives. No one could cook like those Moore girls! Always, and I mean always, we would have cobblers to die for...blackberry, apple, strawberry, and peach with vanilla homemade ice cream on top. They would have tons of fresh, right out of the garden, huge perfect sliced tomatoes and just picked corn on the cob that almost didn't need any butter or salt & pepper...at every gathering we ever had. They knew how to cook for a crowd. They always had a house dress on and a cute old fashioned apron. Their hair was always the same, almost white and done up in a bun on the top of their heads. Laughing and telling stories were always a part of their lives there. The grown ups would congregate to do the dishes & clean-up after dinner and the kids would go play in the fields next to the house.

I remember Dad decided to take Grandpa Moore home with us after a reunion one year. He actually took the trip pretty well...but he seemed very confused to me. He would dose off in the car and every time we would come into a town, he'd raise up and say, "Hey, what CAMP is this???" As a child that was something that sounded a little foreign... Daddy just would tell him the name of the town and Grandpa would talk about how much things had changed from 'before'. "You'd never recognize the place" he'd say. "My, how things change...." Then he'd stare out the window for awhile, examining the town asking a question here and there and remarking again and again how things had changed. He was so interested in everything there was. Then, as we would leave the town he would drift off to sleep until the next.

Through the years, I heard that Grandpa was a tough Dad. I always looked at him and found that hard to believe. My thoughts on that are that every generation probably could say, that the one before was tough on them...and even site examples of the toughness and raise an eyebrow or two. But the truth is that discipline has de-celerated over the years to the point that no one is allowed to do much without a child getting a child abuse suit on them or, even as bad or worse, a divorce from their parents. In that and many other valuable ways Grandpa, things in this world really have changed, and I can see now what you were talking about then, more than ever.

Daddy "Brady" 1899-1979

2009-09-19T19:12:00.000-07:00

Okay, this could be hard. I'm going to relay the history that I remember Mother, Grandma McClain & Grandma Brady told me. I have very mixed feelings about the whole thing, really, but also I did love my Dad and he was good to me even if it took him years to be good to Mother.
I guess that's how it is when you finally grow up and understand that people do things that change the whole course of their lives because of a single act...or a habit, brought about by the first single act.

I probably need to start with the hard part. Daddy 'Brady' was a product of a split marriage. When Grandma Brady & Grandpa McClain got divorced, Dad went to live with his Dad and his step-mother. He wasn't very old then, about 12. He didn't get along with Ethel very well and eventually ran away from home to join the circus. His dad & Ethel had a little baby boy, Milton. The way I heard it from Mother, Milton turned out to be a very handsome young man. He was quite tall with black hair, piercing blue eyes and a winning personality. Daddy never liked him and resented him terribly. Daddy took on his step-father's name "Brady" to spite his dad and never had much to do with either set of his parents or families after he left home.

He eventually learned to play several instruments but really liked the Saxophone. He started a band and actually did quite well with it. He had that going for him for many years.

When WWII broke out he joined the Army and went to war. He actually earned a Purple Heart in that war. I never heard any stories about his time in the services, but that wasn't uncommon for many of the young men who served in that war. It was just too painful to talk about. Mother said that when he came home he started to drink. I'm not real clear on how they met but I just know it was somewhere in Santa Cruz. Mother had Larry who needed a father figure, but I don't think she knew what she was getting into when she married my Dad. "Brady" eventually bought The Yacht Club in Santa Cruz, at the Harbor. He had quite a bunch of friends there. They would play poker, and sometimes gamble for pretty high stakes. Mother tells of a time where he gambled away the family car one night. He did have some serious vices. He became an alcoholic, and that was the one that seemed to do the most harm to everyone.

Evidently, when he came home from the war and Milton was still out to sea in the Navy. Mom & Dad had been married about 4 years when Mother was about to deliver me. Her sister-in-law, Milton's wife, came to tell them that Milton had been burned to death on the "Nashville" ship while he was taking care of a patient. She was emotionally lost and found refuge in their home. By then, they had Larry & Darlene. Mother always was willing to take people in and feeling the heart-ache of this young woman, she welcomed her and invited her to stay as long as she needed to.

The true heart-ache came when Larry reported that he was locked out of the only bathroom in the house because he had to go through the master bedroom to get to it. While Mother was in the hospital having her baby, Daddy was 'consoling' his sister-in-law, Virginia. Mother gave him a year to decide what he wanted to do. He chose Virginia. Maybe it was the war, maybe it was because he could finally get back at Milton by taking his wife...I guess we'll never know. I met her on several occasions growing up and Mother was, by far, the most beautiful and alive between the two. My Dad & Virginia were basically drunk nearly any time you saw them. I remember one time when he came to visit us and he hit mother. I realized then, that he had made the right choice after all.

I vaguely remember Virgina passing away when I was in elementary school. He had a few years of dating some pretty big fluzzies. I remember being so happy when I met "Pan". She was a classy lady who really seemed to love him. She took care of him until he died when he was 80. There's stories here that I don't need to share, but let it suffice, he was a very lucky and blessed man to have Pan. She was a Princess in my book.

Dad would often say when I was in college and come to visit that "Your Mother wasn't ALWAYS a Mormon, ya know!" That would somehow make me mad, but I didn't think that was any of my business, so I never questioned him as to why he would make a statement like that...after all, neither was I.

One lesson I will never forget that he did teach me, when I was a teenager. I was having a rough time getting along with Mom and decided it would be a great idea if I could just go live with him and Pan and not have to have someone watching me day and night to follow "the rules". I knew that my Dad was an alcoholic and when I stayed there he really didn't watch what I did, he just let me hang out with my friends. He didn't care what time I came in or anything. He would hand me $20 and tell me to have a good time. Sometimes he would say, "Here's the keys to my yacht, take your friends for a ride!" Although I was scared to death of that huge boat, the idea of that kind of freedom can look pretty appealing to a teenager, and I fell into that category quite readily. I really liked "Pan" and she was gone all week to 'the city' (San Francisco) working at a big department store and was only home on the weekend. That also sounded good to me.
I just knew he'd be okay with it. When I told him my plan he sat me down for the first 'Father Daughter' talk I'd ever had or ever would have with him. He was even sober for this one. He said, "You know Sheri, your Mom and I haven't always seen eye to eye. We've spent a whole lot of years mad at each other over one thing or another. I wasn't a good father for you, but your mother has done a good job. We have finally got a good relationship and I'm not going to let you drive a wedge in it with this. You are going to have to know that IF you decide to come and live with us, you can. But, neither Nellie or I are going to let you flit back and forth whenever you get mad at one of us. You are going to have to decide where you're going to be and stick with it. So, what's it gunna be?" -----Wow! I was shocked! But somehow it made me feel really secure; like I had parents that loved me and wanted me to do a solid thing...to be grounded in a decision and stick to it...to take responsibility. It really made me proud of him. He was willing to take me in. I decided I was in the best place for me over-all, and I never regretted it. Mom was the one I wanted to be with. She only was hard on me because she knew I needed rules to survive in this world, and this was the time in my life that I needed them most.

Ernie

2009-09-18T15:50:00.000-07:00

Ernie came to live with us when he was a senior in High School. He was Daddy Roy's nephew and needed a place to stay. Mom and Dad always found room for relatives in need of help and I'm glad this wasn't an exception. Larry had gone to Germany by the time he came, so Darlene and I welcomed a new "big brother." He would take us to get a chocolate malt at Foster Freeze, buy us Lanz dresses, he'd take us with him to the show. He was wonderful. Ernie was quickly very popular at school as he became a star "Tackle" on their football team. He worked on the side, learning the plumber trade, from my Dad. Ernie had a great sense of humor and loved a good joke. We loved just being around him and hearing anything he wanted to share about his friends or his day. Lots of things happened during his stay with us; we got news of Larry's death, my really good friend was hit by a car on his bike on the frontage road, by our house, and killed, Grandpa Koehler died, and my little Chihuahua was run over. Through it all, he was always someone gentle to lean on, always loving and respectful. I really don't think he ever realized how much we learned to love him and depend on him while he was living with us. I just remember how 'safe' he always made me feel.

Ernie went home to visit and soon married Rosie. I remember going to see them after many years, just before I got married. They had a house full of happy kids and they all seemed to get a kick out of each other. I loved seeing them all together. They encouraged one another to do something cute, then would just laugh and point out that someone had done something amazing. It was the cutest thing.

Again, lots of time went by and we heard about a family reunion for the Moores. By this time, Norm & I had 6 kids and a motor home so it would be manageable. We packed up and took the gang to Missouri and had a great time getting to know Ernie's, now, grown up family. What a great sense of humor and personalities he and Rosie had passed on to their kids. How much fun we had at that reunion. They lived by a lake next to Aunt Midge & Uncle Don, and Barbara & Roy. We had great food, great fun at the lake and wonderful memories to take back with us. We became acquainted with Ernie & Rosie's girls, Lisa, Gina & Sheila. We somehow really connected with Lisa and it wasn't very long before we received a phone call from her, wanting to come live with us for a time. We were so happy to have her with us. We all had a great time with her, and she eventually went to live in Scottsdale with a friend.

We recieved a call a few years later that Ernie had had a heart attack and had died... in the same hospital where he and Rosie worked. It was a tough thing to hear and I was very glad for the years we as a family had with him and the fun he brought into our lives.

In the beginning...

2009-07-18T12:25:00.000-07:00

This is one of the very few pictures taken of me when I was a baby. Because it was the "Depression", no one had a lot of money so pictures and "extras" were carefully chosen.
This was taken when I was 6 months old and I didn't have other professional pictures taken until I was about 2 years old. Mother eventually had the beauty parlor in Palo Alto which took her and Grandma Koehler through that period of time very well. Women still had their hair done even if they didn't have new clothes or other extras. Mother always had food on the table because of it. She had 3 children to provide for and did a very good job of it. Below are my "War Rations Book" she received right after I was born. It still has lots of stamps left in it and it's pretty interesting to look at. The next is the paper with the news of my birth...I really didn't weigh what they said. The accurate
one is the pink slip (below) that was with me in the hospital.

2009-07-18T12:15:00.000-07:00

This is a copy of my formula that was given to Mother to give me when I came home from the hospital. "one can of evaporated milk, boiled water, Karo syrup, & salt!!" Wow! - THEN... it's interesting that on the back of the formula "at one month an egg yolk may be added to formula 1/2 teaspoon at a time until every day the baby would have an egg yolk."
Because I was born on Valentines Day, the nurses brought me into Mother with this little heart pinned on my diaper just after I was born.

Grandpa Alvin B. Koehler 1875-1961

2009-07-17T12:40:00.000-07:00

Grandpa Koehler (Grandma Evie Koehler's husband - Nellie's (Grandma "Beep" or Moore)father.

Grandpa Koehler was a really big part of my life when I was a little girl...especially when he was the only grandparent who lived very close by at first. He and Grandma Koehler got divorced but remained really good friends. I'm not sure when that happened but it could have been when I was maybe 6 or 7. I just remember everyone in the family or close friends talking about how neat it was that they had managed to be such good friends and then later in life be able to go back and live together for so many years after they got their divorce. Grandma lived in Phoenix in the winter sometimes and Yreka for many years. But eventually ended up in the Bay Area where we were, either with us or alone at Mother's "Court" (a square city block in Mountain View, California)until she and Grandpa decided two could live cheaper than one...together. For some reason it worked for them and I never questioned their lifestyle or decision to do that.

The tale of how Grandma & Grandpa got married was always a story that I got a kick out of as a child. The story goes that Grandma was engaged to be married "to another fella". The day before her wedding day she was home making the cake and Grandpa came to call on her. They were visiting in the kitchen about her choice to marry this guy, when my Grandpa said boldly, "If I'da known you were in the mood to be married, I'da asked you m'self!"... to which she replied, "Well, what's keepin' ya?" They eloped!

Early in their marriage, Grandma & Grandpa Koehler had a farm. They had many crop failures and disappointments because of severe weather changes in South Dakota. They moved out west because of that; first they moved to Montana... after crop failure there, to Oregon, then California. There they owned a general store/ Millnery Store where Grandma sold hats she made herself and in another part of the store was Grandpa's barber shop.

I remember one story that Grandma Koehler told about Grandpa's hair. She said he always had a wonderful head of thick curly dark hair. He decided to surprise Grandma one day and came home and knocked on the door. When Grandma opened the door, there stood Grandpa. He had completely shaved his head! She was so mad at him. She said it would never come in as beautiful as it was before. As a matter of fact, it never did come back at all. Because he worked so much in the sun, his head kept getting sunburned and nothing would grow there after that...believe me...Grandma was pretty much always right!

Grandpa was a barber for many years. I still have some of his barber tools in my possession; straight edge razor, scissors, lather brush & bowl etc. and I even use his scissors when I cut Norm's or Kevin's hair.

Above is a picture of the house Grandpa grew up in. It is where all the children were born and where even Great Grandma & Great Grandpa Koehler passed away.

On the left is a picture of Grandpa's Mother, Wilhelmina (Huenkemier) and below is a picture of Grandpa Koehler's Dad, Jakob Bernard Koehler.

I really don't remember hearing much about them. I just know that they had a big family and Mother didn't know them very well because they lived back east and people didn't travel very much in those days. When they had to go by horse and buggy or train everywhere they went and with Grandpa moving out west, it made things pretty hard to see relatives who didn't live next door, unless you had money.

My biggest memory I have of Grandpa was that he loved to play Canasta. I was instructed never to beat him. I learned my lesson about that when I actually DID beat him and I saw my Grandpa lose his temper. Pretty competitive ol' boy!

There was a time when Grandpa went to a potluck/dance. When it came time to move the chairs back this lady refused to move, so Grandpa picked her up, chair and all and moved her to the side. He damaged his back and came to live with us for a time while it healed...so...it was; Grandma K., Grandma Brady, and Grandpa! He enjoyed having everyone wait on him because he was basically "bedridden" or so he claimed. But one day, when everyone appeared to be gone, I heard Grandpa spring out of bed and go call one of his girlfriends. That day, Mom took him back home. The following morning she got a call from Grandpa, "Hey! Where's my breakfast???!!!" Mom told him "The Jig's UP Daddy!" He was kinda mad at me for "turning him in" but finally got over it. He loved a good joke, his laugh was great and he was a wonderful cook. He did smoke pretty heavy and died of cancer eventually because of it. We all missed him. He wouldn't let us visit him once he got really sick. He didn't want us to remember him that way. I really didn't understand why ...Mom said he just loved us too much to put us through it, so we just sent letters back and forth. I think it was harder that way.

Gramma Beep's Recipes

2009-07-17T10:10:00.000-07:00

Grandma Beep's Grapefruit Salad

Combine 1/2 head of lettuce with equal portions of desired amounts of avacado & grapefruit in a salad bowl. Mix with the following dressing in a cruet:

1 inch Chili Sauce (the kind you use with shrimp)

1/2 inch Canola Oil (or Veg. Oil)

2 Tablespoons Sugar

A couple of pinches o Season Salt & Season Pepper

*Cover and shake to mix well and pour over salad...YUM...MEEE!!!

Grandma Koehler, a great lady 1874-1973

2009-07-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

Years ago I was asked to talk at a youth conference about my experience with the elderly in my home and what I might be able to pass on to them because of it. I’ve lived on both sides of the fence…as a child and then a teenager with grandmothers living with our family, and as a daughter taking care of my mother in her last years. In this blog I will just talk about Grandma Koehler. She was a big part of my life and actually still is because of her influence in my life. I always had a really different idea of what it meant to grow older. I always looked forward to it as a really fun time.. When I was in the 6th grade my Grandma Koehler came to live with us just after my brother died. My grandmother and I didn’t get along at first, but little by little, she became my favorite, and I became hers. I'm going to share with you some things we did together and the rewards that came from it.

When my Grandma first moved in I suddenly had 2 mothers. She wasn’t frail or anything like that – she was powerful and manipulating. She was TOUGH to live with! She caught me doing things she thought were wrong all the time and 'turned me in' to my parents. I felt like I was in trouble all the time. What my parents didn’t see, she did…it was Awful! She was NO fun at all…she was all business. She was about 82 then. As fierce as she seemed, I still liked her and every time I got a chance I would let her know in some way. I noticed her starting to soften. One weekend I had a sleep over with about 15 girls. We decided to do some “prank” calling. GRANDMA helped us! She was so fun! My friends absolutely adored her…After that night, every time they came over they went straight for her. She told funny stories and they loved them. One of the best lessons I learned from my Grandmother, was that smiling made you beautiful. One of her favorite things to say as she got older was, “People tell me I’m beautiful, I tell them, “I know it, I make myself that way by smilin’!” When I was in that accident when I was 13. The one where I went through the windshield and ended up with all those stitches in my face. She made sure that I knew that "no one would notice those scars as long as I was smiling." She convinced me that they absolutely didn’t even show if I was smiling…so I did. When she was about 84 she joined the church and she spent a lot of nights up reading. She was always available to talk if I wanted and we loved the time we spent together. She became my best friend. Older people, (I mean REALLY older) have so much wisdom and vision. She was no exception. She was no ordinary woman for her age. Grandma was able to work in the yard and climb stairs. She could walk completely without any help…in fact, she could out-walk or out-work any one in the family at that time of her life.

I remember her going on trips with us. She would start out in the front seat and when she got tired she would climb over the seat and lay down in the back seat. She would take a nap, then climb back over the seat and go on with the trip all while we were traveling along. She was like one of the kids. I was in total awe of her. In fact, one summer, I decided to have her come and be my roommate at BYU. I lived off campus with 2 other girls and needed another roommate. It seemed logical to have her come. What a summer we had…She was game for anything. There was a friend of mine that was around 26 and wasn’t married yet. We used to tease him about it and towards the end of the regular school year he made a comment that I needed to set him up with one of my roommates sometime. SOOOO…. I told him about this one that was coming for the summer from California. She had been raised on a farm just like him…she was little and petite, with a great sense of humor. He was pretty excited… The time came when we arranged for him to go out with her on a blind date. He got there and said, “Well, where is she?” I assured him that she would be right out - that she was “primping”…A few moments later she opened the door in a wide motion and entered the room enthusiastically with a huge smile! She immediately sized up the situation and looked the guy in the eye and inquired without hesitation, “Are you mah’blind date?” He looked around for a second and said right back, “I guess I am!”…she snapped back, “You’re JUST what I wanted!” He took her arm and started for the door…paused for a reply over his shoulder, and said, “You may think you’ve pulled a trick on me, but she’s just what I’ve been looking for ALL my life!”

He was wonderful to her. He came over a couple of times a week, took her to ice cream, bowling, movies…she’d sit right next to him in his car and everybody loved it. It was clear that he knew how to make the best of things and make her feel important. It could have been a bad experience all the way around, but it turned out so fun for her and everyone. We took her on camping trips with my friends and someone always made sure she had her rocking chair to sit around the campfire at night. It was amazing. With a Grandmother like her, I was never afraid of growing old. Why should I have been? She was a great inspiration to us all and I will always be grateful that she was there for me so much of my life.

Grandma Koehler Newspaper Article and Early Pictures

2009-01-27T20:21:00.000-08:00

This picture looks like Darlene through the eyes and side of her face.

I found these articles about Grandma Koehler (Nellie's Mother). On her 96th Birthday, I took her to Flood Park with the Palo Alto Times editor and he took pictures of her to use in this article about the "Swinging Grandmother". Kinda fun to have this information for the Grandkids. She was a very fun Grandma!

Click on the article above and you will be able to read it.

The love of my life

2009-01-26T09:38:00.000-08:00

We met at a church dance in Scottsdale, but that isn't where our story begins. While I was at college in Hawaii, Darlene was on her mission in Chile. In writing back and forth during that time, she wrote and said she had found "just the boy for me!" His name was Norm ____. Now, Darlene and I have really never had the same taste in boys, so I dismissed and forgot the whole thing. Then when I was on MY mission Mother wrote to me after going to a wedding reception in Sacramento where Norm was the "Best Man", and said SHE had met "just the boy for me"... and his name was Norm _____. There again, "mothers don't have any idea what their daughters would want in a boy...," and I already had forgotten Darlene's letter, so I dismissed that as well.

About a year went by and I came home from my mission and went to BYU for a semester. At Christmas time Mom, Dad and I went down to stay with Darlene & Bob for a few days. I got a little "antsy" so I checked to see if the Church Institute had any activities going on during the holidays there. I found out about noon that there was a Luau in Scottsdale for all the college age kids that night...but I had nothing to wear. I bought some material and sewed the rest of the day and managed to come up with a dress to wear...sewing myself out the door...arriving at 10:30 pm at the dance. This guy came up and asked me to dance. Right away he said, "You look really familiar". "Oh boy here we go...what a line!" was my only thought. We danced for awhile and found out that he had been on a mission to Chile at the same time as Darlene & Bob and he knew them. That was nice. I also learned that he was now stationed in Monterrey, California in the Army and was home on leave staying with his brother in Phoenix. Mind you, he was in "Boot Camp" and his head was completely shaved, no kidding, and it wasn't the style at all, but he had the most wonderful smile and eyes. I told him that I would be coming home to work at semester and would be in California in January. He took my address & phone number and he said he would write to me and we'd get together sometime in California. That was that.

When I got home that night after the dance, Darlene & Mom wanted to know all about the dance. "Did you have a good time"... "Yes." I said ... "Did you meet anybody new?" ... "Yes. I met someone who knew Darlene & Bob in the missionfield..." "Really, WHO?" Darlene asked. "...a Norm ____" "No KIDDING!" they both said in unison, "THAT'S the ONE!!!" ... "WHAT one??" I asked. "The one I wrote to you about!" they both said in unison. They both looked at each other and couldn't believe they had both written about the same boy. By the same token, I couldn't believe that this was the boy. He was nice and all, but not THE ONE. I was sure of it.

As planned I came home at semester and since I had relatives who lived in Monterrey, Mom and I went up to spend the weekend with them the end of January. I knew some guys who were stationed at Fort Ord so I contacted one of them and he told me the church was having a huge Singles Conference there that weekend. He asked me to go and he came by an hour later to pick me up. We hadn't been there long when I asked him if he knew Norm ____. He said he did and "...there he is right there..." He pointed to a doorway where Norm was leaning. There he was. I was shocked. By then his hair was grown out, and he was quite a different guy all around...HOT! I excused myself and went over to him and asked if he remembered meeting me. He told me that he did, and that he was planning on writing to me that weekend. (Oh yeah...and I remember this guy's got a line for everything...ha) We danced a few dances and had a really good time. I went back to my friend who brought me to the dance and finished out the night with him and he took me back to my cousin's house.

As promised, I received a letter on Monday. Darlene & Bob were coming to town in a couple of weeks and we planned a BBQ in a park near our house and invited Norm down for that weekend. We also contacted the couple where he was the best man to come too. It was such a great weekend. Wonderful actually. As I was setting up everything in the morning, a song came on the radio I never had heard before..."Come Saturday morning......and we will remember long after Saturday's gone". It was so perfect. When he came and we were finishing everything up it was playing again and he seemed to know the words. It was a fun weekend. By Sunday, we went over to Stanford University Chapel and we were holding hands walking around reading sayings on the wall ending up walking back down the center isle, somebody asked us if we were getting married, Norm answered, "No, ...just practicing..."

That was the beginning...A year later all that practicing paid off. We were married in the Mesa Temple and a year after that, Kevin was born...and now you know..."the rest of the story."

2009-01-24T23:10:00.000-08:00

Just looking at her innocent face in this picture, brings back a flood of memories from our childhood. There are many words and descriptions I think of when I think of Darlene, but the ones that stand out most in my mind are; without guile, would never intentionally hurt anyone, helpful, scatter-brained, intelligent, knowledgable music teacher, ukelele, sometimes illogical, very loving, forgiving, sees the good in everyone, determined, funny, great pies.

As a child I saw her as a great artist, with a great imagination. She was also a real organizer of closets, putting labels across the rod where we would put skirts - blouses - dresses in certain taped off areas. If she knew we had company coming, she would race to her closet and start cleaning like mad, making sure all her shoes were lined up and everything in her drawers were absolutely perfect. Mom would always get so mad and tell her that the whole house needed vacuum-ing and dishes done etc., but she wouldn't stop until she was sure everything was perfect there.

Darlene loved to read. It was a daily occurance to see her walking the mile to school reading a book the whole way, never once looking up as she walked. It's a miracle she was never hit by a car. I know the Lord had to be watching over her! She was an excellent student. She had many good friends who got together at lunch to study the scriptures. They were also either in the band with her, Acapella Choir, or Honor Choir. I always envied her ability to read music. I never could do that. We were both fortunate to have Larry for our brother. He taught us both to play the Uke which has given us years of musical enjoyment. Mother always made sure that we had the oppotunity to play any instrument we truly wanted to. Darlene chose to play several instruments; accordion, piano, clarinet, and then learned a ton of others while in college majoring in music.

Darlene wasn't afraid to try new things and always seem to learn fast. She took acrobatics and learned how to do a back-bend. I never could, as many times as I tried. She learned to swim, and I still struggle. When she wants to learn something or do something, she will be so determined that absolutely nothing will stop her. I admire that about her. It drove me crazy as a child, but I've come to really appreciate it in her as an adult.

She loves her kids and has perfect faith in them. This is a truism. No matter what, she will stand by them and believe in them and their friends. By doing this faithfully, I believe they wouldn't want to disappoint her in the end. I've watched them, one by one, become all that she had ever hoped for, and more. They all have an enviable closeness together. I love to go wherever they are. When they hug Darlene, anyone can see the love they have for her. She is a precious human being.

In the past, I haven't always understood her but I've always loved her. Like sisters do, from time to time, we have had 'our moments'. Lately however, I look forward to our phone conversations and the laughs we have over silly things...it's really been a special time of my day, our little talks.

As I remember things I will add more about our childhood.

The Best Mother, "Grandma Beep" - 1911-2001

2008-11-16T21:16:00.000-08:00

This is the story of the life of Nellie Evaline Koehler Moore as given at her funeral December 17, 2001. She was born January 14, 1911 in Arlington, Kingsbury County, South Dakota in the home of her grandparents, George and Evaline Walters. This was the home that her grandfather built when he first moved his family out from Illinois to the Dakota’s. Thanksgiving Day, November 24, 1898, her parents, Alvin and Evelyn Koehler were married in that same house.
Her other grandfather had heard about land being given for homesteading in Montana, and so went out and homesteaded a place near Ryegate, which is on the Muscle Shell River about 75 miles northwest of Billings. Nellie’s sister, Lola, was born in 1902, and a few years later they moved out to Montana to be with her grandfather and have a homestead of their own.
When it was time for Nellie to be born, her mother had to travel back to Arlington to her folks because there was no doctor in that section of Montana at that time. When Nellie was about 3 weeks old, her mother returned with her to Montana, but ended up having to race back to Arlington again because she got a serious case of the whooping cough. The doctor treated her and almost lost her. She ended up losing all the lining in her intestines and so her mother had to be very careful what she gave her to eat. She eventually pulled through and they went back to Montana again.
While she was still a little girl, her mother used to sell eggs in town. One day her mother had a crate of eggs set out on the porch and she had Nellie all cleaned up and she sat her down beside the eggs while she went in to get the rest of her things and when she came out, Nellie had broken half the eggs in her lap because she liked to see the pretty yellow centers. It took her mother a while to clean that mess up.
The farm consisted of about 500 acres that her father used to plant wheat and alfalfa. They also raised horses, cows, pigs and chickens. They raised most of their own vegetables and her mother had a section for growing flowers. The farmhouse itself was a long building. On one end was the kitchen and on the other end was one large room with some beds around the side. They spent most of their time in the kitchen, which had a large round table where the family would gather in the evening. For light they used either a kerosene lamp or a gasoline lantern. That is where Nellie learned her ABC’s from boxes they had or sacks or cans.
During World War I, hired help was hard to find, so one time her father fixed the header box up so Nellie could drive it along side the heading machine which her mother drove, and that way they managed to harvest their crop. She was only 5 or 6 at the time.
By the time Nellie was school aged there was a school in Ryegate. Her father built a little 3-room house with a customary outhouse in town that they stayed at when they weren’t working on the farm. Her mother stayed in for the school year for her to go to school. She also made hats to earn extra money and was quite good at it.
For second grade Nellie and her mother traveled to Medford, Oregon on the train and spent the entire school year with her grandparents while she attended Oakdale School. This was during the War and Nellie remembered cutting up little snips of material to stuff pillows with for the soldiers. She also knitted a scarf for a soldier.
Her grandfather used to take her to school in a horse and buggy every day and told her to wait for him at the library across the street. She realized afterwards that he purposely had her stay there after school every day so she would get in the habit of reading. She picked the habit up very well and loved to read. She became very close with her grandfather and loved him very much and spent many enjoyable hours sitting and talking with him.
Nellie and her mother returned to Montana for her third grade school year. That year was a particularly bad year. One day they were out working on the farm and her mother looked up in the sky and there was a whole black cloud coming towards them. It turned out to be grasshoppers – millions of them! They ate everything. The wheat in the field one day was green and beautiful, then two days later it looked like it had just been plowed. The two previous years hailstorms had destroyed the crops, too. This made three crop failures in a row. The family didn’t have enough money to pull through again. At the end of the school year they left Montana with the last $800 they had. Her father fixed the old Model T Ford by cutting down the back of the front seat on each side and putting hinges on so they could let it down to form a bed with the back seat. They had a little tent made where they could do the cooking.
They eventually reached Medford, Oregon where her father got a job in a wholesale grocery store and her mother opened up a hat shop. While living there, Nellie met Betty James and started a friendship that continued throughout her life.
While going to school with Betty, Nellie took on the lead role of Sicily in a little operetta called, “Sicily and the Bears”.
Not long after that, her family changed location and she attended a different school the following year. While there, the family met a couple named George and Gertrude Bailey. George worked at the same grocery store her father worked at and they became great friends. They ended up sharing a large house with them; the Bailey’s had one part and Nellie’s family had the other.
By the end of her 5th grade year, George Bailey had taken them over to a place called Ft. Jones in California, which was a little town in the Scott Valley in Siskiyou County, which didn’t have a railway. Her mother and father decided they’d like to go into business there with a dry goods store. That’s where Nellie attended 6th grade.
Ft. Jones turned out to be quite a hangout for the Indians. In the back yard there was a barn that they would frequently come and stay overnight in. This upset her mother, so one night she grabbed her gun, rested it on her shoulder and proceeded to stomp out to the barn to chase them off. She told them in no uncertain terms to “GET OUT,” that they were on private property and couldn’t stay there. She marched the whole bunch of them up the alley, single file, with the gun poked into the last guy’s back, until they were well off the premises.
After a while they became close friends with the Indians and often the squaws would bring Nellie little dresses for her doll or just little gifts for her and her mother.
She attended 7th and 8th grades in Ft. Jones, which were both held in the same room at the same time. In Nellie’s own words, “There was a boy who used to tease me on my way to school. I put up with him just so long and I finally knocked him flat. I was little, but mighty! Nobody ever thought I was as strong as I was. He tried telling my mother what I’d done, but she defended me and said he’d asked for it!”
After one year of high school, they moved back to Medford because the schools were better there. Nellie was again reunited with her friend Betty James. She came to visit Nellie one night and put on Nellie’s mother’s fur coat. In her own words, “She went for a ride on some fella’s bike and fell in the mud with it. I lost consciousness after that…”
Nellie was quite popular in high school. She was also very pretty. She said of herself, “I was pretty, probably the prettiest girl in school…which tells you something about the school right there!” She always got excellent grades, particularly in art classes, and eventually earned a full scholarship at the Institute of Art in Chicago. Her and her mother set off on the trip together, but didn’t get very far. Her mother started hemorrhaging and they had to turn back. She ended up having to get a hysterectomy, which meant that Nellie was needed to take over her shop while she recuperated. Nellie never made it to art school.
She did, however, marry Heine Hjertager, a boy she had gone to school with. A year later they gave birth to a son, Larry, while Heine was going to school. When Larry was about 3 years old, Heine got Pneumonia and died. That was extremely hard for Nellie. Eventually she went to beauty school in San Francisco. After that she attended business school, which prepared her for the life of business that she was headed for.
After Nellie worked for many years for her mother, she went into business for herself and began her own beauty salon on the main street of Palo Alto, University Ave, “The Personality Salon” in California. She was in business there for over 25 years. When Larry was about 5, she met Abbott Brady and eventually married him. They had two girls, Darlene and Sheri. They later divorced, leaving Nellie alone with 3 children to raise. About 3 years later she had an accident with a fellow coming out of a parking place. Ironically, they started dating and “settled out of court”. This was Roy Moore. He was a very caring person and assumed the role of father to the children. They were married in November of 1948. A few years later they received word that her son, Larry, had had a heart attack and drowned in Germany while he was serving in the Army. He was 24.
Wanting to be able to stay at home, but also be a little more self sufficient, Nellie got a job working for World Book Encyclopedia. She worked on and off for them for over 35 years. She became a District Manager and Regional Representative, but in between she managed to get her Real Estate license, her Insurance license and several other credentials to lean back on while she continued to survive. With her help, both Darlene and Sheri were able to go to college and on missions for the LDS church.
As the girls were growing up, Nellie made sure they both had lessons in every imaginable thing they wanted to try: baton, piano, ballet, tap, drums, accordion, acrobatics, voice. And she didn’t have just “anybody” teach them. They took baton lessons from the best, and twirled for the 49’ER football team. They took voice and dance from Mason and Conn who taught the choreography for the San Francisco Ice Follies. Special classes were taken from people who taught celebrities on the Lawrence Welk show. She did her homework in everything she did. And even though she did all that, when Sheri was offered a contract with MGM to have a child career, she turned it down with a great deal of wisdom behind her. Sheri, of course, was mad at her for years for that decision, but she knew what she was doing.
In 1960 she and her mother joined the LDS church. After being basically “anti-mormon” by faith, she studied everything to prove them wrong and ironically received answers to her prayers that she should join the church. Darlene joined soon after, followed by Sheri a few years later.
She loved and supported her children in whatever they did. According to Sheri, “Everywhere we performed, she followed us. I don’t remember many times I ever performed anywhere that she wasn’t there. Even when I was going to Ricks College and was in a musical and only had a small part, she and my Grandma Koehler drove clear up there to see it and went to all 3 performances. She did the same for Darlene when she was in an operetta at BYU one summer. Even up to the last, as often as she could come to anything where I was either giving a lesson or the kids were in something or receiving an award, she’d drive the distance up to Holbrook from Mesa.”

Grandpa Hjertager a "Gentle-man" 1886-1967

2008-07-12T14:19:00.000-07:00

Grandpa Hjertager was a gentle man...and a true gentleman. I wasn't around him as much as I would have liked. He was quiet and happy. He loved his den. I remember he had very interesting things in there . I especially remember a large model boat on a shelf. It was very intricate and it was wonderful with tremendous detail. It drew my attention for many years. I recently found out from a granddaughter that it was a replica of the boat on which they came from Norway to Ellis Island.
He loved to read, and when he sat down to relax he would smoke a pipe. I don't know why, but I loved the smell of his pipe. It smelled like wood, not tobacco. He was a tall slender man...never gained the little belly that some men his age would gain. He always wore a white shirt and navy pants with a tie. I don' t remember ever seeing him otherwise.
He was always respectful to Grandma Hjertager. She was a little tricky to get along with sometimes, but he just loved her and would laugh a little when she became difficult and do what she wanted to have done without complaint.
My cousin Sharon remembers: (I will finish post when Sharon sends her memories)

She may be little but don't underestimate her!

2008-02-29T07:11:00.000-08:00

"Grandma "Beep" (Our Grandma Nellie Moore) beatin' up the kids". This picture was taken when Artie was on his mission. We missed him so much we made a 'replica' of him by blowing up his picture, cutting out the face, stuffing some of his clothes, and putting him on the couch in the front room with his guitar. Sometimes we'd have girls visiting the house put his arm around them and we'd take a picture of them. Other times we put 'him' at the table. Finally, everyone said we needed to take advantage of the "free 8X10" from Contempo Studio. This was just before Chad & Ashes got married and it had been a long time since we had a family portrait. Mom had a lot of fun that day too. She was always game for a fun picture, not unlike her mom, (Grandma Koehler).

Grandma McClain, quite a lady - 1884-1976

2008-02-08T09:58:00.000-08:00

Grandma McClain
Grandma Brady was originally married to ‘Grandpa McClain’. I’m not sure why they got divorced but Grandma Brady married a “Brady” and Grandma Ethel McClain was, as far as I can remember, our “Grandma McClain”… and this is where everything gets complicated.

Grandma McClain was a very darling little Christian lady with an incredibly green thumb. She lived in a little town outside of Abilene called “Buffalo Gap”. She always had a garden and grew beautiful flowers. She wrote poetry, little stories, and always was humming and singing when she was in her yard. I loved her to rock me in her rocker because she was soft all over. Kinda like a human feather bed. I never thought of her as ‘fat’, just ‘soft’. She wore her silvery hair up in a loose knot just slightly back from the top of her head. It was a little curly and looked just perfect for a grandma. She had homemade quilts on her beds and everything looked and smelled like a country cottage. She had every National Geographic magazine from the very first copy ever printed.

The main thing I remember about Grandma McClain was there was always a smile on her face and her laugh just tickled me. She had a Texas accent that was really cute. She was quite well read from what mother used to tell me. Something that I remember her saying was that she assisted in the first ‘Girls Town’ in Texas. She was very pleased about that.

When we would go stay at Grandma Mac’s house in the summer, Darlene and I would go down to the “swimming hole” and swim with the other kids who lived in Buffalo Gap. They were really friendly and one time a little girl came up to me and as we were getting acquainted she asked me, “Y’all from California?” I answered, “Yes I am!” Then SHE said, “I shore’ thought so! Y’all shore’ has a POWERFUL accent!!” I never forgot that. I never thought I could have an accent being from California. It was everyone ELSE who had accents in this world.

Just before I got married I went on a trip to see all the relatives with Mom and Daddy Roy. We stopped by to see Grandma Mac and I thought it could be the last time I’d have a chance to see her. Oddly enough, Norm was transferred to San Angelo from Monterrey before we were sent to Germany. We were able to come and spend weekends there and it was a special experience. Somehow she could never remember Norm wasn’t ‘Howard’. We figured it didn’t really matter and he became ‘Howard’ to her. One time when we were there on a Sunday I noticed that her cupboards needed to be scrubbed down and I began washing them. I had never seen her angry ever before in my many visits to her house over the years. She told me in no uncertain terms that ‘today is Sunday and it is the Lord’s Day, not ours!’ I tried to tell her that we could ‘serve others’ on that day but she insisted she didn’t want to be served while making me break a commandment…so that was that.

Soon after that, we were transferred to Germany and I remember writing to her several times through the next few years and her always writing right back. Then her letters began to slack off and eventually I didn’t hear from her. One day, when Artie was about 6 months old, Mother came to me and said that she felt really strongly that we need to take a trip to see Grandma Mac. She told me she had been in a rest home and she had important information about the family that would be lost when she died so we needed to make a trip as soon as possible. Before we left on the trip, mother got a blessing from her home teacher to be able to make this trip a success with genealogy. I left Norm with Chad & Brandon and made arrangements with Jean Larson to pick up the slack while I was gone.

We drove straight through to Abilene. It took about 2 days. Both Kevin & Artie were with us. We arrived there just before visiting hours were over. Grandma didn’t have any idea who we were. We tried to jog her memory but with no recollection in her hazy eyes. Here we had driven over 1500 miles for nothing. Mother and I looked at each other, clearly disappointed and heartsick and were about to leave when she suddenly became totally coherent. She said, “…who you need to see is Mr. Coleman He lives in the next city down the road.”

That was the only, and last thing she said to us. That one statement took us through the next 8 days where we found one clue after another, relative after relative and where we finally found a man who had been collecting information on the family his whole life and had research clear back to the 1700’s. All the genealogy we found on that trip wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her one statement and Mom’s insistence that we take that trip when we did.

Two weeks after we made the trip, Grandma McClain passed away. I often think of that adorable little lady with so much inside her to give…so kind, so happy, so thrilled with life, nature and growing things.

Grandchildren are the best

2008-01-19T12:26:00.000-08:00

It's amazing the love I feel for our grandkids

Just looking at this picture makes me smile. What a great experience it's been living close by so many of our grandkids. I love being able to go to their programs and games when we can. Usually once a month we get together at someone's house for a Sunday dinner or holiday of some kind. I wish Kevin & Lori's families lived closer but it could be much worse. As it is, Kevin & Leora come once a month to go to the Temple and stay with us. We probably spend more quality time with them than anyone because they actually stay with us.

Maybe 2 or 3 times a year Lori & Trevor come here but we all love to go and stay with them, cool off in the summer, and go to the beach. It's the best!

Grandma Brady, a true lady 1876-1961

2008-01-05T07:50:00.000-08:00

Grandma Brady was a little southern bell. She was very soft-spoken with kind of a low, southern drawl that was adorable. She was like an ‘out of a storybook grandma’, perpetually pleasant, never grumpy. Not ever. She was always with her daughter who was my Aunt Eva. They both had pure white hair and I thought they were sisters. They were so sweet and good to me. Aunt Eva’s husband had passed away and she and Grandma lived in Waco Texas together at “908 N. 15th St.” That address is still in my mind after all these years. We wrote letters back and forth my whole childhood, and every Christmas we would get a big box of wonderful little presents wrapped individually in white tissue paper and red ribbon. The day that the mailman would bring that great box was a day I would look forward to every Christmas. We didn’t see them real often because they weren’t able to travel. Neither one of them drove. Once in awhile Mom would send train tickets to them and they would come and stay. In the summers we would go to Texas to see them on our way to Missouri to see my (step)Dads' family (Roy). They had no air conditioning in their house. (We’re talking Texas here, in the middle of the summer). I remember a tiny little oscillating fan about 6” in diameter trying desperately to cool a whole room full of people and not having much, if any, success. Sweat was part of their lives and they were used to a lot of it. We would always stay in a motel with a swimming pool and Aunt Eva, Grandma, & her sisters, Dolly, & Jimmie would come over and watch us swim. I can remember how excited they were when we would show off all we had learned in swimming lessons. They were great sports!

My Aunt Eva was a wonderful concert pianist in her day, but because of either shyness or arthritis she always declined playing whenever asked, so I don’t remember her ever playing. All I knew was she played wonderfully in her earlier years and every time we would come to see them everyone always tried to coax her to play and she never would. I thought that was odd.

I don’t remember how, but Aunt Eva passed away and Grandma Brady came to live with us when I was in about 8th grade. Now this was tricky, as I look back. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time because I was young and didn’t understand about a few things that would be a big deal now. First of all, Grandma Koehler was already living with us. Grandma Brady was my real father’s mother…not my stepfather’s mother who was my mother’s husband now. Got all that? Read it real slow and it will come. My stepfather, or “Roy”, was always better to Grandma Brady than her own son “Brady”. He would always be sure we went to see her on our trips and was totally in favor of her coming to live with us at this time, even though his mother-in-law was already with us.

It was decided that she would share a room with me and I loved it. She loved me and I loved her. She even kept our room clean and that was an added bonus. She made both of our beds every day. One of my favorite memories of her was when one of my friends came over and was throwing rocks at my window and trying to get me to sneak out. She woke me up with the cutest enthusiasm saying, “Wake up honey! There’s someone down there to see ya!” She was so excited and happy to tell me you’da thought it was a good idea to sneak out! I didn’t though, but it would have been okay with her. I could do no wrong in her eyes and I didn’t ever want to disappoint her.

She lived with us a couple of years and it was wonderful. At one point Mother and Grandma Koehler joined the Mormon Church and Grandma Brady and Darlene joined a few months later. Soon after that, Grandma Brady went to visit with her sisters and while she was staying at Aunt Jimmie’s house she tripped on a suitcase and fell and broke her hip. Mother made arrangements for me to fly out to Morrilton, Arkansas and meet with a relative named “Patti Sumeril”(or something like that) and she would see that I could go back and forth to visit with Grandma in the hospital. Patti arranged for me to stay in a guest house of some people she knew. It was located a couple of blocks from the hospital so it was a nice walk every day. I was there a week. Mother had given me enough money to take care of eating out and a place to stay and it seemed like a lot of cash…more than I had ever had in my own purse ever. I felt very grown up.

About the time I was feeling a little lonely, a cute little puppy began to follow me on my way to the hospital. I had no idea where he came from or who he belonged to. I tried to find an owner without any luck, so he became my little buddy for the week. I met a man who owned the café on Main Street and he would save scraps for my little pup each day.The puppy would wait patiently for me when I would go to see Grandma and after visiting hours were over we would join up and gad about town.

Grandma was in terrible shape. I didn’t realize how serious it was to break a hip. Every day I would go visit her and she seemed to get worse and worse, and weaker and weaker. I was scared. I talked to Mom on the phone and my flight would be the next day. She was dying and there was nothing I could do. "Today, she didn’t know me". Mother convinced me it was time to say good-bye. On my way home from the hospital that day, two little boys saw me walking with the puppy and came running up to find out where I got it. It had been lost for about a week. What a special gift he was for those few days alone in Morrilton Arkansas.

A few days after I got home we received word that Grandma had passed. I would miss her so much. She had been a dear friend to me, and I will have loving memories of her forever.

Homestead memories...

2007-11-25T21:48:00.000-08:00

The Homestead has meant so many things to us as a family. When we lived in Holbrook we spent a lot more time up there with the kids because it was only 1 ½ hrs away. I would take them up there and stay the week and Norm would come up on the weekend. It worked out so well and the kids loved it. Although it seemed like a quiet place with nothing to do when we arrived, the kids would bring it to life within minutes with their enthusiasm and love of the freedom of the outdoors and being at the Homestead. They would play in the woods, pick wild flowers, swing on the rope swing, do nature-based crafts, see wild life like deer and antelope and chipmunks and squirrels. Sometimes see blue jays and all kinds of birds that don’t live in the city. They would climb Sierra Trego, catch horny toads, carve their names on trees on the road to Greens Peak, go to the observatory at Greens Peak, climb down Greens Peak, go to Little Giant Springs, and always meet new cousins. It was always a treat when it had rained and there was a tiny stream running in the field between Grandpa’s cabin and the cultural hall. They would make tiny vessels of twigs to sail and race down the little trickle of water. Sometimes when Norm would come up on the weekend they would go fishing at Big Lake. About the time that Artie was born, we got a small motor home and would take it everywhere. It had a “insy” kitchen, a “teensy” bathroom, and would sleep the whole family. It was great to take on fishing trips to Big Lake. I would stay at the shore with the babies and watch them fish with binoculars off and on while I made breakfast for them. When it was ready, I would flash the lights and they would come in and eat. While I was cleaning up they would go back out and fish. I read and made crafts in the motor home and it felt so good knowing they were all having fun with their daddy. They always caught something it seems.

As the years went on and the kids got older, they have always enjoyed taking friends to the Homestead. Everyone they took loved it too. We had several “All Friends Day” and everyone would invite a couple of friends to come with us in the motor home. They would play in the pond and learn to swing on the rope swing. We’d pitch tents or build shelters and come back home after a couple of days of wearing everyone out on Greens Peak and all parts in between. Those were the best years...or so I thought until we had all these grandchildren and tripled the fun at the Homestead. It just thrills me to watch them and feel their love for this great place.

Grandpa [Art] Whiting wrote the letter included in this 'post'

Turning Points...Experiences that make a difference

2007-11-05T22:29:00.000-08:00

**Commitment to be happy and make the best of my life’s circumstances

When I was 13 my sister, my friend and I were in a very serious car accident. My sister was home from college for the holidays and we were so excited to go Christmas shopping. As we went around a corner near our home, we saw a boy we both knew and I said, “Honk the horn, there’s Scott!” My sister looked off to see Scott and as I turned around there was a tree in front of us. There wasn’t time to do anything about it and we plowed into the tree. As a result, I went through the windshield. I don’t ever remember passing out. My sister saw my face and did…I leaned over my girlfriend to grab the mirror to see what was going on with all this blood pouring out of my face – I could see my teeth through the rip in my cheek and under my nose…in the meantime, she saw all the blood on her and cried, “I’m bleeding to death!!!” and promptly passed out. My sister would come to every once in awhile and take a look at me and pass out again, then my friend would wake up and look at the blood all over her and think she was bleeding to death and pass out again. I don’t know why, but it struck me funny. There was a crowd by now forming all around our totaled car and I couldn’t figure out why no one else could see the humor in this situation. When the ambulance came they laid me down in the back and we took the hysterical ride to the hospital with sirens and running lights – dodging cars and individuals. As we passed by the theater on University Ave., there were people lined up around the block for a blockbuster movie. I turned over towards the window and sat up on my elbow to see if I recognized anyone in the line. This started a chain reaction of pointing and horrified looks. Again, it struck me funny. I somehow knew everything would be fine.

After we arrived at the hospital there was a flurry of nurses and doctors hooking me up to machines and cleaning off the wounds and sewing up my face. It took over 250 stitches. (They were little ones) I looked pretty awful I guess because no one would let me see a mirror. There was a fear that the tissue in my lip wouldn’t live. I really didn’t realize what that even meant. For the next week it was touch and go…my upper lip was purple and didn’t show too much promise. I finally got to see a mirror – not good. I looked like Frankenstein’s daughter! Now came the moment of truth. My sister was driving the car and felt like she had ruined my life. Was I going to let her feel that kind of guilt or would I take responsibility for causing her to take her attention off the road. Try as I would, I never could convince Darlene that it really wasn’t her fault. I overheard my mother talking to my grandma and saying that if I didn’t want to go back to school she wasn’t going to make me. (That was tempting…)My grandmother told her that that might be a big mistake. She didn’t say more to mother about why, but grandma was wise and I later learned HOW wise.

I learned who my friends were. By the time I came home from the hospital my face was purple, green, and yellow, from the bruising. Because I wasn’t allowed to wash my hair, it was still full of dried blood after two weeks in intensive care, and all the delicate stitchery in my head and face. I looked very awful. I wasn’t allowed to laugh for fear of ripping the stitches above my lip…so I had to laugh like a ventriloquist without even moving my mouth or face. That alone was hilarious.

There was a boy down the street who was quite popular who came to visit me. It really was nice of him. Since it was around Christmas time, he decided to take me Christmas shopping to get me out of the house. Soon after we arrived at the mall, it was evident that I was really scaring little kids with my face. He could see that I was feeling a little upset about the reactions of all these people so he said he had a fun idea. He took me to the elevator in a large department store and we spent the rest of the night, until the stores closed, with me right in front of the opening on the doors. I just stood there stiff, staring way off as the elevator doors would open. No one rode the elevator all night and it was a serious Christmas shopping night – about 2 days before Christmas. I had to laugh with that silly 'no expression laugh’ when I was absolutely bursting inside.

I’ll never in my life forget that wonderful night. I learned to really laugh at myself and to never take life so seriously that I can’t make a hard situation fun. I’ve often looked back on the whole experience of that accident. I learned more from it than most experiences I’ve had in my life. An interesting comment was made by Farrell Lewis, ( head of the Family Psychology dept. at BYU and also my brother in law.) When Darlene and I stayed at their home for Womens Conference. he told me, “You may have been injured in that accident, but Darlene wears the scars.” That observation has caused me years of reflection. I hope Darlene realizes that I am truly grateful for the insights I gained through that whole experience, and still am learning.

Larry

2007-11-04T13:40:00.000-08:00

Lest we forget… November 4, 2007
I’ve had many occasions lately to ‘remember’ the relatives who have past on to the next world. Haunted by the fact that maybe there is no one else TO remember them or pass their memory on to the next generations, I feel compelled by loving memories to write about them.

Larry – my brother… My memories of Larry are vivid and real. He was tall, about 6’2”, blonde…EXTREMELY blonde in the summer…even his eyebrows and leg & arm hair would bleach out in the sun…he was so tan that it would make his teeth look like they were under ‘black lights’ in the dark. He had a slender build and looked great in his wardrobe… ANYthing he wore. He had a great sense of humor…everyone loved him…he had so many friends who would come to visit all the time. I loved it. He had a piano in his room…a “rumpus room”. His room doubled for a family room…only it was his and his friends’ They would play jazz, sing, everything when they would get together. I remember it was a jam session all the time. I don’t remember Larry ever getting mad at me…except one time when he had come in late the night before and I woke him up ‘too early’ the next day. He was always very good and kind to me. He taught me the ‘jitter-bug’. After dinner he would take me into the front room and teach me new steps until we could dance together. There was 13 years between us. There was no competition, just a common bond. He also taught me how to play the ukulele. I learned that when I was 7 or 8. It brought me years of pleasure in entertaining, my alone hours, time with family & friends and now time with my Grandchildren.

Early in Larry’s life he was diagnosed with osteomyelitis , a bone disease. For therapy he would swim daily. They had him in a convalescent home for quite awhile. It affected his legs. As he grew up he continued to swim. He was a wonderful swimmer and played water polo on his high-school team. Naturally he was the star player on his squad. I remember going to those games with mother many times. Another time I remember going to Lake Shasta where he swam the length of the Lake. He loved to snow and water ski too and was quite expert in them as well. He was what his friends called a “Hot-dogger” when snow skiing. I didn’t understand what that meant until a couple of years later when I started skiing and saw for myself…with other skiers.

Larry decided to go to law school and went to college nearby at Cal. He lived in an 'A' framed, 'modern' house on the side of a hill with a bunch of guys. Two of his room-mates were returned Mormon Missionaries. They had taught him about the church and he had wanted to be baptized. I remember one weekend he came home and mother and he had quite an argument about it. She had said that his grandparents would disown him if he joined the Mormon Church and they were paying for his education in college and he needed to really think about that decision. I guess he did, because he never was baptized.

Larry married Lynne Williams when she was around 18 years old and he was maybe 20. They were so young. She was the daughter of the wealthy mayor of Redding, California and Larry was completely spoiled by his grandparents, so both of them were pretty used to having everything given to them and were in for some hard times learning about what marriage meant.

They lived first at the Hjertager saw mill in Yreka, in the same little house Mom & Heine lived in when they first were married. He worked at the saw mill prior to going back to school at the University of California at Berkley.

Once back to school, they moved into a comfortable little apartment and seemed to be quite happy when we went to visit. Little by little we did start to notice the strain between them and soon after decided to divorce. I loved Lynne. So did Larry. They just were too young to know what they were doing I guess.

I'm not sure if Larry was drafted or he just joined the Army, but the next thing I remember he was IN the Army and stationed at Ft. Ord ready to go to Germany. We went as a family up to Ft. Ord to visit him before he left. It was overcast and a rather dreary day. We drove to a hamburger place on base and he got out to go get food with Dad. He wouldn't let any of the "girls" out of the car. He made us all stay in until they brought it back. He said the troops were all "women starved" and he didn't want them looking at any of us. Mind you, I was 10...so I really didn't understand much, but somehow it made me feel special in his eyes.

Months went by and letters went back and forth. It was exciting every time a letter would come from him. Then came the day when a telegram came. It was from Germany. Mom was in Mt. View at 'the court' they owned where Grandpa Koehler lived. I knew she wouldn't be home soon because she was collecting rent there. The suspense of the telegram was tough. I was sure that Larry was sending something to us that would be fun news. Telegrams were always important information being sent. They were expensive and every word cost a certain amount of money. Darlene and I were the only ones home and she thought we ought to wait until Mom came home. I wasn't convinced. I was more curious than all that, and besides,"what could it hurt to open it?" I was 11 and was big enough to take matters into my own hands. I went into Dad's bathroom, and locked the door. I opened the envelope carefully so Darlene couldn't hear me and began reading..."It is to our deepest regret, that your son, Lawrence J. Hjertager, has drowned due to a heart attack in Korsor Germany, July 6th... There were more words, but I didn't read them...all I could do was scream and cry. My stomach was paralized and a knot formed there that wouldn't leave for months. Darlene came immediately and we both became two very hysterical little girls. We called Grandpa and told him and he even cried. We all decided that it would be best if Mom didn't know until she came home, so he said he wouldn't tell her. We were afraid she would have an accident on her way home if she knew...but Grandpa wouldn't be able to keep anything like that from Mother. When Mom came home it was like a terrible nightmare had convened. A never ending lump in my throat with all of us involved. One sketchy memory after another. The day his body arrived and the viewing...not looking like him...the limmo to the funeral...my dark, plaid dress with tear marks all over it...another memorial in Yreka, Grandma Hjertager's house and the friend who was with him when he died, Lynne and her puffy face from crying, the Lieutenant who brought his body back and the pall bearers...a letter Grandma Koehler received from him a month after he had died...a little Dutch porcelain shoe he had sent to Mother days before he had died... so many things...it's all a blur and part of an amazing unfolding over the years. How he had influenced me... I would miss him terribly. There are times when the knot returns and stays for hours even now. Mother tried to be brave for all of us. She always was and I don't know how.

Mother seemed to be "Anti-Mormon" by faith, and so when the Mormon Missionaries came by when we lived there on Del Norte, I was surprised to find them in our living room when I came home from school one day, a couple of years later. I was shocked as I peered in as one of them looked for all the world like Larry. It was a gift to Mother.

She spent a lot of time studying and actually trying to prove them wrong. She was quite an intelligent woman and eventually exhausted all of her sources of qualms, rendering herself completely helpless in her arguments. She finally decided to pray for an answer and received a meaningful testimony of the Book of Mormon and all of the things the missionaries had taught her. She had been smoking 2 packs of cigarettes and drinking several cups of coffee a day. She had tried to quit several times before but with her new faith, she was able to finally quit for good. It was virtually amazing to all of us.

In the beginning...

2007-11-04T13:11:00.000-08:00

Hi!

I guess this is easier than I thought! My girls keep saying I need to 'blog' for my grandkiddos at least, so I suppose that's what I'll do. At first, I think I'll blog about 'turning points' and 'lessons learned'.

Maybe some of the grandkiddos ought to have a 'blog' so I can see what they're up to from their prospective...at least the ones that could, like the older children 6 and up...??? That would be fun to see what's in their minds at this age.

Today I taught again the Gospel Doctrine class in our ward. I've had this calling for a couple of years and from the first day I ever taught, I felt the overwhelming inadaquacy of my preparation no matter how much studying I might have done. I had never really studied the Old Testament, but found myself teaching it. It turned out to be one of the most wonderful of all my callings in the church. It's forced me to study in depth the Old Testament and I've learned to love it. This year we've been studying the New Testament and I have learned to love it too. It always seemed to be so over my head to study too much in the Bible, maybe because I was never encouraged to do it before I was baptized when I was in the Catholic Church. There was always the idea that no one but the 'higher ups' could figure out what the prophets were trying to say...so trust them, and they will let us know what that is. Anyway, an incredible world has opened up to me and I am so grateful for this calling. Believe me, I thought they had the wrong girl when they asked me to do it 2 years ago. I'm finding that the Lord blesses me every time I teach to be able to understand what I should from the lesson material. Every calling I've ever had, I feel inadequate at first and I've learned to just trust that there is a reason for the calling and that reason eventually shows itself. I learned a very valuable lesson. When I was a fairly new member of the church and at BYU, I was asked to be the secretary in Young Womens. I told them I didn't know anything about doing that and I turned them down. Later when I was on my mission in Texas and was transferred to the Mission Office, the girl I replaced told me that the one calling she had before her mission that helped her the most in the Mission Office was being secretary in Young Womens. It was a struggle for me in the Mission Office for awhile. All of the records for every organization in the church in every stake came through the mission office and I had to record them and keep track of them and send them to SLC. Needless to say, I never turned down a calling again. The Lord knows the preparation you'll need for every station in life and makes that possible wherever He can. Lesson learned.