You'll never guess what my number one priority on my "to do" list was after my sweetheart was home. Was it taking pictures that could be used for the newspaper account of our wedding? Was it finding a place to live in Ogden which was the closest town to Hill Air Force Base? Was it having Jim see about renting tuxes for himself and his best man, his brother Rudy? Was it formally asking my father's permission to marry me...something that my father required? Was it looking for a car since we were having to borrow one to get around? Actually, it was none of the above. What was the most important to me was having Jim propose to me the traditional way...on his knees, and placing the ring on my finger himself. even though I had been wearing it for over a year. Receiving a proposal and ring by mail needs something to be desired. And I desired the thrill of saying "yes" in person followed by a hug and a very long kiss. I wasn't disappointed when Jim took me to the top of "I" street overlooking the city on his first Monday evening home and did everything the traditional way.
Tuesday, I met with the photographer at the State Capitol Building in Salt Lake. There on the beautiful marble staircase in the entry way to the building, he took my formal wedding pictures in my gown, one of which was selected for the newspaper. I wouldn't let Jim come with me because I didn't want him to see my dress.
The rest of that week we drove back and forth from Salt Lake to Ogden looking for an apartment. We were lucky to find a small basement apartment for the price that we could afford. It had a small kitchen, a living room and one bedroom. The bathroom was outside the actual apartment in another part of the basement...a little inconvenient but okay. We planned to stay there on our wedding night because after purchasing a car (a used Chevy), paying for the final costs of a wedding, and a down payment on a place to live, there wasn't money left for a fancy hotel or even a honeymoon. But I didn't care. I would be married and that is all that mattered to me.
It was now a few days before our BIG DAY. Everything seemed to be in place; people to help in the kitchen, a friend to sit at the guest book, and more friends to take and open the gifts. Yes, back in "those days" all gifts were opened as the arrived and were displayed on tables for the guests to see. There were more of mom's friends who would help set up and decorate because it would be all that Mom could do to just be at the temple in the morning, go home and rest, and be able to be at the reception that evening. While I'm speaking of my mom I want to clarify a few things that may have given you the wrong impression of her. I mentioned I had to sell my cello to help pay for the wedding. My parents were not scrooges by any means. They would loved to be able to help me with all the costs, but they just didn't have the money. With no health insurance and with Mom's medical bills so high, they were barely able to make it month to month. My mother felt so badly and was often in tears because she felt responsible for the family's financial situation. She would have loved to help us children more with school, wedding, and other expenses after we had done all that we could on our own. I'm sure she felt terrible about my selling my cello.
Getting back to those last few days before the wedding, you'd probably never guess what I began worrying about. I thought to myself, "How am I going to think of what to cook for dinner seven nights a week, four weeks a month, and twelve months a year. That's three hundred and sixty-five meals!" I began to panic. I had never begun to collect recipes. I began to write down every meal I could remember having at home. I talked to my married sister, Claire, my grandmother Knapp, my Aunt Dorothy, and anyone else I could think of. It was a little late to begin a recipe book of family favorites, but at least I had some idea of different meals I could prepare. I would just have to buy a good cookbook with recipes. Betty Crocker's Cook Book was my choice. Yes they were available back in 1954.
Thursday, May 13, finally arrived. (Jim always teases me about being married on FRIDAY the 13th). Our sealing was scheduled for 10:00 in the morning as I recall. I woke up plenty early to get ready for my big day. Then I looked in the mirror and my excitement turned to pure panic!!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Home at Last
The second week in April came and went...no plane to bring Jim home from the Philippines. Then came week three and well into week four and still no plane with available passenger space. Things were becoming a little scary. It was too late to change our wedding plans as the invitations had already gone out. During that long wait, Jim received a change of orders for his next assignment. Instead of going to Oscoda, Michigan he was assigned to Hill Air Force Base in Ogden, Utah. I have to admit that I was disappointed. Ogden was too close to home, and I was looking forward to seeing more of the world...at least a little more of my country. I would later realize the Lord's hand in this change, but for now it was just one more thing to stress over.
It was on April 29 that a whole wing (seven aircraft) landed at Clark Air Force Base with space for all the airmen who had opted to wait to return to the states by air which included my Jim. After a short scare when Jim's plane developed a problem requiring all seven planes to land at an atoll in the Pacific. He was sure that he was going to be stranded on this small island while the plane was repaired. But he soon discovered that the pilot of his plane was the commander of the Wing and could take over one of the other planes if he chose. And he chose. He also chose to take all that airmen that were on his plane with him.
Jim arrived at Travis Air Force Base near the bay area in California late in the afternoon of Friday, April 30, with his pay records in hand. He had left Manila with only $20.00 in his pocket but knew he could go directly to the finance office on base to get his pay. But...when he arrived, that office had closed for the day and would not be open until Monday. He refused to wait even one day longer to be on his way home. He would get by on his $20.00 and pick up his money at Hill Air Force Base once he reached Salt Lake. So he went to the transportation office on base and purchased a Greyound Bus ticket to Salt Lake for $17.00 thinking he would have a few dollars to purchase food on the way. But he forgot that he needed to get from the base to the Greyhound depot which was a $2.00 bus ticket away. He bought a couple of candy bars with his remaining dollar on which he could survive for the next twenty plus hours. He was now on the last leg of his long trip home. I know the Lord was with him because a gentleman sitting next to him on the bus noticed that this nice young man in uniform was not eating at the scheduled rest breaks and gave him $10.00. Being the honorable man that he is, Jim took the man's name and address and returned the much appreciated money when he got home.
Back at the ranch (home) I nervously awaited Jim's arrival at the Greyhound Depot in Salt Lake. It was Saturday evening, and Jesse and Jean (Jim's brother and sister-in-law) had picked me up to take me to the depot. I don't remember why my parents didn't go, but I like to think that they just did not want to distract from the special reunion. (Believe me they wouldn't have.
Nothing would have.) I still hope that Jesse and Jean didn't feel slighted when Jim stepped off that bus and I ran into his arms and just wouldn't let go for the longest time. Jim assures me that they didn't. We took Jesse and Jean home and spent several more hours alone "talking" before Jim crashed from his many hours of travel. We would spend the next week and a half looking for an apartment in Ogden and making the final arrangements for our wedding which was only ten days away.
It was on April 29 that a whole wing (seven aircraft) landed at Clark Air Force Base with space for all the airmen who had opted to wait to return to the states by air which included my Jim. After a short scare when Jim's plane developed a problem requiring all seven planes to land at an atoll in the Pacific. He was sure that he was going to be stranded on this small island while the plane was repaired. But he soon discovered that the pilot of his plane was the commander of the Wing and could take over one of the other planes if he chose. And he chose. He also chose to take all that airmen that were on his plane with him.
Jim arrived at Travis Air Force Base near the bay area in California late in the afternoon of Friday, April 30, with his pay records in hand. He had left Manila with only $20.00 in his pocket but knew he could go directly to the finance office on base to get his pay. But...when he arrived, that office had closed for the day and would not be open until Monday. He refused to wait even one day longer to be on his way home. He would get by on his $20.00 and pick up his money at Hill Air Force Base once he reached Salt Lake. So he went to the transportation office on base and purchased a Greyound Bus ticket to Salt Lake for $17.00 thinking he would have a few dollars to purchase food on the way. But he forgot that he needed to get from the base to the Greyhound depot which was a $2.00 bus ticket away. He bought a couple of candy bars with his remaining dollar on which he could survive for the next twenty plus hours. He was now on the last leg of his long trip home. I know the Lord was with him because a gentleman sitting next to him on the bus noticed that this nice young man in uniform was not eating at the scheduled rest breaks and gave him $10.00. Being the honorable man that he is, Jim took the man's name and address and returned the much appreciated money when he got home.
Back at the ranch (home) I nervously awaited Jim's arrival at the Greyhound Depot in Salt Lake. It was Saturday evening, and Jesse and Jean (Jim's brother and sister-in-law) had picked me up to take me to the depot. I don't remember why my parents didn't go, but I like to think that they just did not want to distract from the special reunion. (Believe me they wouldn't have.
Nothing would have.) I still hope that Jesse and Jean didn't feel slighted when Jim stepped off that bus and I ran into his arms and just wouldn't let go for the longest time. Jim assures me that they didn't. We took Jesse and Jean home and spent several more hours alone "talking" before Jim crashed from his many hours of travel. We would spend the next week and a half looking for an apartment in Ogden and making the final arrangements for our wedding which was only ten days away.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
A Day For Reflection
I just spent the morning watching the funeral of our beloved prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley. As I listened to speakers reflect on his life, his many contributions to the growth of the Church, his love for all mankind and his humanitariun efforts to help those suffering throughout the world tears began to flow. My reaction surprised me. Why was I feeling this sudden sadness and loss when I was totally aware of all his accomplishments? I knew how much he missed his beloved wife, Marjorie, and now they were together, never to part again. How joyous is that? And, after all, he was ninety-seven years old; his whole life spent in the service of God and His church. He, above anyone I know, was so ready to meet his Maker. I'm not concerned about who can ever take his place for I know that God has already prepared his successor and the work will go on. Then why do I feel this pain in my heart?
As I took time to think and reflect upon the stories I heard today about this this great man I think what touched me most was not the many things he instituted or accomplished but the man that he was. He was intelligent, a great communicator, a lover of education and the arts. He was loving, compassionate, kind, and gentle. Yet he could also speak with great conviction and warning when counsel was needed. He had a wonderful sense of humor ans was the eternal optimist. He was truly a prophet of God. I realize now how much I really loved him and what an impact he has had on me during these last thirteen years. He was a prophet with whom we had had a personal contact. I'm sure that made my feeling of loss greater than I had expected. He was my stake president when I was a teenager. Jim worked on his car when he was a teenager and often drove him home when his car had to left to be worked on. It was President Hinckley that asked Jim at church the Sunday before he was about to go over seas if he had been ordained an Elder yet. When Jim answered, "No", he immediately took him to a classroom, interviewed him, presented his name in sacrament meeting and had him ordained right after church by a member of the high council. President Hinckley was present and participated.
He has always remembered the Mortensen family and on occasion when Jim had contact with him, he would ask, "What are you doing, Jim?" and then ask about other members of the family by name. I didn't have as close a relationship as did Jim , but I knew how much he meant to him and I couldn't help but feel that love through him. I have had President Hinckley's picture on my desk for several years... Jim's, too, and both have been inspirational to me.
As I continue to reflect on other prophets that have touched my life, I realize that I personally remember all but the first six, beginning with Heber J. Grant. I remember him mostly because my mother used to tell me stories about his life...his throwing baseballs against the garage door to become a better pitcher, how he learned to sing (at least carry a tune), and how he practiced and practiced to not only improve his penmanship but to become a recognized penman. She used him as a role model for my life. I don't remember much about George Albert Smith except as I child I thought he was kind of funny looking...long skinny face and big round glasses. David O. McKay, I thought, was the very image of what a prophet should look like. His white hair, tall stature, and kind face always impressed me. My fond memories of him include his coming to our ward on Mother's day when my mother was there in a wheelchair. He took time to personally talk to her and take a picture with her. That picture will always be treasured. The sterness and seriousness of Joseph Fielding Smith scared me a bit. Harold B. Lee, although being president for only a short time, always held a special place in my heart because he married us and gave us some special counsel that I will always remember. I loved Spencer W. Kimball for his "Just Do It" counsel, and for his courage in overcoming major disabilities in his life. He was also Jim's stake president when he lived in Texas. Ezra T. Benson always seemed a little strict to me, and some of his counsel offended some in the church. I heard comments about him that disturbed me such as "He is just an old man and out of touch with the real world", but I knew in my heart he was only saying what the Lord needed us to hear. And I know he had to be firm about it in his own way. I remember shortly before he passed away he was at an area conference in Santa Barbara which we attended. My heart went out to him as he struggled to communicate with the people and lost his ability to speak coherently. His aids had to stop him. We learned later that he was developing a medical problem and would shortly pass away. My experiences with John Hunter when I was a stake Relief Society president were special. He came to a stake conference, and I remember him walking down the aisle of the chapel very slowly using a cane. He seemed so old and tired. We were privileged to prepare lunch for him and the stake presidency between sessions. President Hunter invited our families to join him after lunch so he could meet them and shake hands. That was really special. It wasn't long after that he also passed away and Gordon B. Hinckley became our president and prophet.
What a special blessing it has been for me to have known so many great leaders of our church and to have been the recipient of their great teachings and counsel. I thank my Heavenly Father for the blessing of having prophets to lead and guide us through our journey here on earth. I bear testimony that Christ leads and guides this church through his servants, the prophets, whom he has prepared and tutored to direct His work here on earth, each according to the needs of their times. I give thanks to Him for being privileged to belong to His true church and for my faithful progenitors who have made great sacrifices and taught me well that I can partake of this great blessing. My greatest desire now is to be faithful to the end that I may be worthy to meet my Savior and have him say to me, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant".
As I took time to think and reflect upon the stories I heard today about this this great man I think what touched me most was not the many things he instituted or accomplished but the man that he was. He was intelligent, a great communicator, a lover of education and the arts. He was loving, compassionate, kind, and gentle. Yet he could also speak with great conviction and warning when counsel was needed. He had a wonderful sense of humor ans was the eternal optimist. He was truly a prophet of God. I realize now how much I really loved him and what an impact he has had on me during these last thirteen years. He was a prophet with whom we had had a personal contact. I'm sure that made my feeling of loss greater than I had expected. He was my stake president when I was a teenager. Jim worked on his car when he was a teenager and often drove him home when his car had to left to be worked on. It was President Hinckley that asked Jim at church the Sunday before he was about to go over seas if he had been ordained an Elder yet. When Jim answered, "No", he immediately took him to a classroom, interviewed him, presented his name in sacrament meeting and had him ordained right after church by a member of the high council. President Hinckley was present and participated.
He has always remembered the Mortensen family and on occasion when Jim had contact with him, he would ask, "What are you doing, Jim?" and then ask about other members of the family by name. I didn't have as close a relationship as did Jim , but I knew how much he meant to him and I couldn't help but feel that love through him. I have had President Hinckley's picture on my desk for several years... Jim's, too, and both have been inspirational to me.
As I continue to reflect on other prophets that have touched my life, I realize that I personally remember all but the first six, beginning with Heber J. Grant. I remember him mostly because my mother used to tell me stories about his life...his throwing baseballs against the garage door to become a better pitcher, how he learned to sing (at least carry a tune), and how he practiced and practiced to not only improve his penmanship but to become a recognized penman. She used him as a role model for my life. I don't remember much about George Albert Smith except as I child I thought he was kind of funny looking...long skinny face and big round glasses. David O. McKay, I thought, was the very image of what a prophet should look like. His white hair, tall stature, and kind face always impressed me. My fond memories of him include his coming to our ward on Mother's day when my mother was there in a wheelchair. He took time to personally talk to her and take a picture with her. That picture will always be treasured. The sterness and seriousness of Joseph Fielding Smith scared me a bit. Harold B. Lee, although being president for only a short time, always held a special place in my heart because he married us and gave us some special counsel that I will always remember. I loved Spencer W. Kimball for his "Just Do It" counsel, and for his courage in overcoming major disabilities in his life. He was also Jim's stake president when he lived in Texas. Ezra T. Benson always seemed a little strict to me, and some of his counsel offended some in the church. I heard comments about him that disturbed me such as "He is just an old man and out of touch with the real world", but I knew in my heart he was only saying what the Lord needed us to hear. And I know he had to be firm about it in his own way. I remember shortly before he passed away he was at an area conference in Santa Barbara which we attended. My heart went out to him as he struggled to communicate with the people and lost his ability to speak coherently. His aids had to stop him. We learned later that he was developing a medical problem and would shortly pass away. My experiences with John Hunter when I was a stake Relief Society president were special. He came to a stake conference, and I remember him walking down the aisle of the chapel very slowly using a cane. He seemed so old and tired. We were privileged to prepare lunch for him and the stake presidency between sessions. President Hunter invited our families to join him after lunch so he could meet them and shake hands. That was really special. It wasn't long after that he also passed away and Gordon B. Hinckley became our president and prophet.
What a special blessing it has been for me to have known so many great leaders of our church and to have been the recipient of their great teachings and counsel. I thank my Heavenly Father for the blessing of having prophets to lead and guide us through our journey here on earth. I bear testimony that Christ leads and guides this church through his servants, the prophets, whom he has prepared and tutored to direct His work here on earth, each according to the needs of their times. I give thanks to Him for being privileged to belong to His true church and for my faithful progenitors who have made great sacrifices and taught me well that I can partake of this great blessing. My greatest desire now is to be faithful to the end that I may be worthy to meet my Savior and have him say to me, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant".
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