Being "first time" pregnant is not easy for anyone, I'm sure. But being in the military made it even more challenging. There wasn't the comfort of a familiar family doctor or ob-gyn. There was just the impersonal and emotionally uninvolved doctor who had probably used the military as a way of financing his medical school and was now just "serving his time". And the medical facilities at the base weren't the greatest, either. I had a lot of questions that I was afraid to ask these young doctors who were never the same from visit to visit. My education on pregnancy and childbirth was pretty limited because that was something even mothers didn't talk much about to their daughters...at least not mine. The only thing I ever remember my mother telling (actually, just showing) me when I was in my early teens, was an article that Life Magazine that showed an actual birth. But the mother was so draped and covered with sheets that it was impossible to even tell where the baby was coming from. Mom didn't explain anything, but just asked if I had any questions. I answered, "no". I would have been too embarrassed to ask the questions that may have been on my mind. End of conversation! Schools didn't do much in the way of sex education or childbirth either, so you could say that I was pretty naive. I understood the basics, but not too many details. As an after thought, I don't think I did a very good job with my girls, either. It takes a generation or two of cultural and custom changes to improve communication of subjects once considered "Taboo". I do remember hearing my father say at one time, "All those things just come naturally. You don't have to worry about them." But I hated those first prenatal trips to the doctors at Hill Field.
Although we made frequently weekend trips to Salt Lake to see family, I never "dumped" on Mom with my personal discomforts or concerns, especially because her health was declining rapidly. I knew she would worry about me and it was all she could handle just to deal with her own challenges. Besides her own health there was concern for my fourteen year old brother, J.D. and my unmarried sister, Georgia, who was struggling with some major decisions in her life. In July, Mom and Dad decided to move to California hoping that the lower altitude with help Mom to breathe easier as she now had to be continually on oxygen. Dad was able to find a printing job in Inglewood, and a duplex was purchased there for them. Claire and her family moved into one side of the duplex to be close enough to help Mom. That was a real sacrifice she made, and I 'm sure Dad was very appreciative. Georgia moved in with Grandma Knapp because she didn't want to move to California, and in October she and a close friend decided to move to Hawaii for a "new adventure". They were hoping to find new jobs and new friends.
I felt really alone and abandoned at this time with all my immediate family moving away. My Grandma Knapp became my surrogate mom, and I found it easier to talk to her than it had been to talk to my mother. I think this may have been because Dad so protected Mom, even from us children for her health's sake. I'm sure that wouldn't have been mother's desire, and I'm sure she wasn't aware how many times Dad told us to "Stay away from Mom", or " Don't bother Mom. She needs her rest. " We did spend time with Jesse and Jean, and that also helped. It was during this time that I learned how to cook Mexican food even though very often on the way home Jim would have to stop the car so I could throw up. Mexican food and pregnancy just didn't mix well for me.
Uncle Ken (my Mom's brother) and Aunt Ina lived in Ogden at the time we were there. Uncle Ken was the administrator of the Dee Memorial Hospital there. They were very good to us, having us to dinner very often. It was Aunt Ina who taught me how to make orange rolls which has become a family favorite and Thanksgiving tradition. Uncle Ken tried to convince us to have out baby at his hospital instead of on base. I really would have like that, but it would have cost us $100 for a three day stay (customary time for childbirth) and that was a lot of money for us. It would cost us nothing at the base hospital. But we kept the idea in the back of our minds.
The next few months seemed to drag on. I was passed the morning sickness, but I wasn't working because I was battling the skin allergies that were worsening. I was back on cortisone cream and bathing in water with powdered oatmeal to help sooth the burning and itching. Treating these kinds of allergies was still kind of experimental. But it was fun looking at baby "things" in the stores, planning for what we would need, and saving money to buy these basic needs. I talked to Mom every week on the phone, and although he never complained, I could tell she wasn't doing so well. I was now five months pregnant, and I could tell she was sad that she would not be able to come and see the new baby when it was born. She loved her grandchildren (Claire now had three children), and I was glad that they were living close by. But I, too, felt sad that she would not be close by when my first child was born. Babies need Grandmas.
It was October 10, 1954, when I received that dreaded phone call from California.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Up and Down, Up and Down, oooops!
Beginning married life didn't come without challenges. Being there was no "breaking-in" time on a honeymoon we jumped right into a daily routine which began the week following our wedding. For Jim it was up at 6:00 A.M. in order to be at work at the base (Hill Air Force Base) by 7:00. Wanting to be the perfect wife, I, too, was up to fix him breakfast, pack him a lunch, and give him a kiss good-bye. Then it was "What am I going to fix for dinner?" This was one of by biggest concerns before I was even married. I really wasn't sure what Jim really liked, what he really didn't like, or what our limited food budget would permit. When I was living at home, our meals pretty much consisted of easy, inexpensive, and repetitive menus that my mom could prepare. My dad was pretty much a meat and potatoes man, and the meat was usually some form of hamburger. I wanted to impress my new husband with great meals that he would love...a challenge.
Then there was the challenge of laundering Jim's uniforms the way he liked. Most of the time he wore fatigues to work, but when he wore a uniform it had to be pressed military style...sharp creases in the pants and three evenly spaced creases down the back of the shirt. The uniform was made of a thick cotton fabric that was very difficult to iron in the first place. Just getting the wrinkles out was a challenge. But then I used a ruler to get those creases in the shirt just right. Jim has always been very conscientious about his appearance, and I have always been appreciative of that, but I didn't enjoy ironing those uniforms. But I understood that being a staff sergeant in charge of an electronics maintenance shop required him want to present a proper example to those who worked under him.
My next challenge: What to do with all the time I had on my hands alone at home every day. That problem wasn't hard to solve. I began looking for a job. I really didn't have to work because Jim's income was sufficient to pay the bills, especially since we were able to shop the discounted prices at the commissary and our medical care was part of the military benefits. But a little extra money would be nice to purchase some of the "wants" that we had. I found a job at JC Penney's operating an elevator. Yes, back then you couldn't just push a button and the elevator would go up or down and stop at the designated floor. A person actually had to use a hand control to operate the elevator and line it up exactly level with the floor where it stopped. I was paid the minimal wage of $.75 an hour. The job was a little boring and after month of going up and down and jerking at each floor (I was getting better) the constant motion all day long began to get to me and I began feeling sick to my stomach. I fought the feeling day after day by keeping my pocket full of dry crackers which I would try to eat inconspicuously while operating the elevator. The nausea got even worse and after throwing up on the elevator one day, I quit my job. As you have probably guessed by now, it wasn't motion sickness I was suffering; I was pregnant! The next three or four months were not fun for me. I was really sick and tired. Then to top it all off, the change of hormones in my body brought on a major episode of my skin allergies. What a way to begin a marriage!
Through this tough time, Jim was an absolute angel. He was so empathetic with my feeling so bad that he had the same nausea every morning right along with me. Seriously! Sometimes I would tell him that I felt fine when I was about to throw up just to keep him from getting sick. When he would go to work, I would run to the bathroom. Nights were better so we would go to an occasional movie, go for a drive, or just sit on the couch or lie in bed and listen to the radio. Although our apartment came furnished, it did not have television. TV was relatively new and not common in all households. My sister had bought my mom one while I was in college, but I did not have the opportunity to watch it much when I came home. But TV now would have been a nice diversion from listening night after night to: "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men. The Shadow knows". This was the famous introductory to the radio show "Shadow". Other shows we listened to were "Gunsmoke", "Dragnet", "Adventures of the Thin Man", "George Burns and Gracie Allen" (not one of our favorites), "The Green Hornet", "The Bing Crosby Show,"etc. We also got a little tired of hearing the same old musical hits of our day, "Open the Door, Richard", "Sh-Boom, Sh-Boom", "Sixteen Tons", "Earth Angel", "Cross Over the Bridge", "I'm Your Hoochie Coochie Man", played over and over on the music station. Soooo, we splurged and made our first major purchase of our marriage, a television set. Now we could watch the shows that made this period of time still called "The Golden Age of Television" or "Vaudeville TV many of the variety shows starred those who had become famous on the vaudeville stage. Now we were able to watch "The Red Skelton Show", "The Jack Benny Show", "Ted Mack's Original Amature Hour", "Arthur Godfrey", "Milton Berle", "Ed Sullivan", "Lawrence Welk", "George Gobel", "Perry Como", etc. I can hear you laughing now. Probably most of you have never even heard of half these people who had shows "way back then". But at least we didn't have to put blocks on any of the channels (all two or three of them), and it was a welcome change from radio. Life was good. We really were excited about becoming a family of three. AND planning meals was becoming easier.
Then there was the challenge of laundering Jim's uniforms the way he liked. Most of the time he wore fatigues to work, but when he wore a uniform it had to be pressed military style...sharp creases in the pants and three evenly spaced creases down the back of the shirt. The uniform was made of a thick cotton fabric that was very difficult to iron in the first place. Just getting the wrinkles out was a challenge. But then I used a ruler to get those creases in the shirt just right. Jim has always been very conscientious about his appearance, and I have always been appreciative of that, but I didn't enjoy ironing those uniforms. But I understood that being a staff sergeant in charge of an electronics maintenance shop required him want to present a proper example to those who worked under him.
My next challenge: What to do with all the time I had on my hands alone at home every day. That problem wasn't hard to solve. I began looking for a job. I really didn't have to work because Jim's income was sufficient to pay the bills, especially since we were able to shop the discounted prices at the commissary and our medical care was part of the military benefits. But a little extra money would be nice to purchase some of the "wants" that we had. I found a job at JC Penney's operating an elevator. Yes, back then you couldn't just push a button and the elevator would go up or down and stop at the designated floor. A person actually had to use a hand control to operate the elevator and line it up exactly level with the floor where it stopped. I was paid the minimal wage of $.75 an hour. The job was a little boring and after month of going up and down and jerking at each floor (I was getting better) the constant motion all day long began to get to me and I began feeling sick to my stomach. I fought the feeling day after day by keeping my pocket full of dry crackers which I would try to eat inconspicuously while operating the elevator. The nausea got even worse and after throwing up on the elevator one day, I quit my job. As you have probably guessed by now, it wasn't motion sickness I was suffering; I was pregnant! The next three or four months were not fun for me. I was really sick and tired. Then to top it all off, the change of hormones in my body brought on a major episode of my skin allergies. What a way to begin a marriage!
Through this tough time, Jim was an absolute angel. He was so empathetic with my feeling so bad that he had the same nausea every morning right along with me. Seriously! Sometimes I would tell him that I felt fine when I was about to throw up just to keep him from getting sick. When he would go to work, I would run to the bathroom. Nights were better so we would go to an occasional movie, go for a drive, or just sit on the couch or lie in bed and listen to the radio. Although our apartment came furnished, it did not have television. TV was relatively new and not common in all households. My sister had bought my mom one while I was in college, but I did not have the opportunity to watch it much when I came home. But TV now would have been a nice diversion from listening night after night to: "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men. The Shadow knows". This was the famous introductory to the radio show "Shadow". Other shows we listened to were "Gunsmoke", "Dragnet", "Adventures of the Thin Man", "George Burns and Gracie Allen" (not one of our favorites), "The Green Hornet", "The Bing Crosby Show,"etc. We also got a little tired of hearing the same old musical hits of our day, "Open the Door, Richard", "Sh-Boom, Sh-Boom", "Sixteen Tons", "Earth Angel", "Cross Over the Bridge", "I'm Your Hoochie Coochie Man", played over and over on the music station. Soooo, we splurged and made our first major purchase of our marriage, a television set. Now we could watch the shows that made this period of time still called "The Golden Age of Television" or "Vaudeville TV many of the variety shows starred those who had become famous on the vaudeville stage. Now we were able to watch "The Red Skelton Show", "The Jack Benny Show", "Ted Mack's Original Amature Hour", "Arthur Godfrey", "Milton Berle", "Ed Sullivan", "Lawrence Welk", "George Gobel", "Perry Como", etc. I can hear you laughing now. Probably most of you have never even heard of half these people who had shows "way back then". But at least we didn't have to put blocks on any of the channels (all two or three of them), and it was a welcome change from radio. Life was good. We really were excited about becoming a family of three. AND planning meals was becoming easier.
Monday, March 24, 2008
The Great Escape
Our wedding reception went as planned, without incident. Jim was so handsome in his tux. Mom rested all day after the temple so she could be there. It was only the second time I had seen her in a long dress with her hair in an "updo" AND a little makeup to help her look less pale and gaunt from her progressing illness. The first time was at my sister's wedding. I noticed that she looked so much more thin and fragile than I remembered her then. Of course my dad, Jesse and Jean and members of the bridal party were there in line for the reception.
It was after the reception that things got "interesting"...no...CRAZY!!!! We were very aware of the new craze that was circulating among friends of newly weds viz. kidnapping the bride and groom after the reception and driving one to Provo and the other to Ogden and just dropping them off there. There had actually been one incident when the car carrying the bride was involved in an accident which killed the bride. Can you imagine such a tragedy? So the idea of this happening to us was a bit scary. Some of Jim's unmarried friends were not beyond attempting such a stunt or something else just as disrupting of our wedding night. We weren't disappointed. After changing into our "get away" clothes at the church, we sneaked out the rear door to where our car was, "inconspicuously" parked only to discover that it had been jacked up and put on blocks so the wheels just spun. Jim had thought of the possibility that something something like this would happen to disable it. Just decorating it for fun would have been nice, but these friends weren't necessarily nice. So he had arranged backup plan just in case. He had arranged for his brother to be waiting in another car to pick us up if necessary. And it was necessary. But by the time we were getting into that car, the friends realized we were not in the church and had run outside just to see us get into that car and the chase was on. By the time they reached their cars we had a head start. We had several other advantages. We knew the neighborhood and they didn't, and because it was dark and they were chasing a car unfamiliar to them they had to slow down and look into every passing car. We ducked down in the back seat in hopes that they wouldn't see us if they passed. After driving around the neighborhood a few times, we met my Uncle and Aunt and transferred into their car. They drove around for a while to make sure they weren't being followed, then dropped us off at my house. But I guess when our adversaries had been unsuccessful in the car chase, they decided to check out my house. When we saw them out front we ran through my back yard to the back yard of the neighbors on the next street. Since we knew these neighbors, Dad was on the phone asking them to let us in the house. We stayed there for I don't remember how long, but long enough to feel comfortable that they had given up on the chase and that Jesse had gotten our car off the blocks so we could use it to drive to our destination, our Ogden apartment. All that I remember at this point was that I was SO tired and we still had a "long" drive ahead of us. It had been a very long day.
We finally arrived at our apartment very late that night. Actually, I'm sure that it was very early in the morning. Did I say that I was tired? Well now I was really, really tired. So tired, in fact, that all I wanted to do was sleep. To heck with it being my wedding night. I'm sure you won't believe me when I say that we just crawled into bed and went to sleep, but that is true. Jim was just as tired as me. But I have to admit, it was the best sleep I had ever had because for the first time I was cuddled up in the arms of my sweetheart and HUSBAND. It all felt so good and so right.
It was after the reception that things got "interesting"...no...CRAZY!!!! We were very aware of the new craze that was circulating among friends of newly weds viz. kidnapping the bride and groom after the reception and driving one to Provo and the other to Ogden and just dropping them off there. There had actually been one incident when the car carrying the bride was involved in an accident which killed the bride. Can you imagine such a tragedy? So the idea of this happening to us was a bit scary. Some of Jim's unmarried friends were not beyond attempting such a stunt or something else just as disrupting of our wedding night. We weren't disappointed. After changing into our "get away" clothes at the church, we sneaked out the rear door to where our car was, "inconspicuously" parked only to discover that it had been jacked up and put on blocks so the wheels just spun. Jim had thought of the possibility that something something like this would happen to disable it. Just decorating it for fun would have been nice, but these friends weren't necessarily nice. So he had arranged backup plan just in case. He had arranged for his brother to be waiting in another car to pick us up if necessary. And it was necessary. But by the time we were getting into that car, the friends realized we were not in the church and had run outside just to see us get into that car and the chase was on. By the time they reached their cars we had a head start. We had several other advantages. We knew the neighborhood and they didn't, and because it was dark and they were chasing a car unfamiliar to them they had to slow down and look into every passing car. We ducked down in the back seat in hopes that they wouldn't see us if they passed. After driving around the neighborhood a few times, we met my Uncle and Aunt and transferred into their car. They drove around for a while to make sure they weren't being followed, then dropped us off at my house. But I guess when our adversaries had been unsuccessful in the car chase, they decided to check out my house. When we saw them out front we ran through my back yard to the back yard of the neighbors on the next street. Since we knew these neighbors, Dad was on the phone asking them to let us in the house. We stayed there for I don't remember how long, but long enough to feel comfortable that they had given up on the chase and that Jesse had gotten our car off the blocks so we could use it to drive to our destination, our Ogden apartment. All that I remember at this point was that I was SO tired and we still had a "long" drive ahead of us. It had been a very long day.
We finally arrived at our apartment very late that night. Actually, I'm sure that it was very early in the morning. Did I say that I was tired? Well now I was really, really tired. So tired, in fact, that all I wanted to do was sleep. To heck with it being my wedding night. I'm sure you won't believe me when I say that we just crawled into bed and went to sleep, but that is true. Jim was just as tired as me. But I have to admit, it was the best sleep I had ever had because for the first time I was cuddled up in the arms of my sweetheart and HUSBAND. It all felt so good and so right.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
The Wedding Day
For a month or so before the wedding, Mom had been encouraging me to have a perm. I had thin, very straight hair that refused to hold a curl for more than a day without re-setting. I had never had a perm, not even a "home" one because I equated a perm with frizzy uncontrolled hair and I wanted not part of it. I wanted to look the best I could for my husband on our wedding day. I resisted all attempts to make me believe that it would be much easier to look good if I added a little "body" to my hair which a perm would provide, and I wouldn't have to set my hair every single day like I was used to doing. I should have listened, but instead I dutifully set my hair in pin curls on the eve of my wedding day and went to bed.
Although I thought I would be too excited or too nervous to fall asleep, I dozed right off to "Dreamland" without even the dreams and slept peacefully through the night. I jumped right out of bed when the alarm went off at seven. I knew I had two hours to get ready before we had to be at the temple. That would be plenty of time for me, and probably even time to spare. Then I looked in the mirror. And there staring back at me was this ugly person with straight, limp hair. It seems that sometime during the night I had taken all the bobbi pins which held the pin curls out of my hair. I just stared in unbelief for at least a minute, and then I began to cry. What was I going to do? There wasn't time to reset and dry my hair. Air drying took time and only beauty salons had blow dryers. My family rallied around me and came up with the idea to use the oven to help dry my hair. I quickly reset my hair and spent the next hour or so bent over with my head in the warm oven. Although it didn't completely dry by the time I had to comb it out, my hair was at least presentable (a hat really helped) and we made it to the temple on time.
What a beautiful sight it was to see my immediate family, Mom, Dad, my two sisters, and Grandma Knapp, Jim's family, Jesse, Jean, and brother Rudy, plus aunts, uncles and friends, all dressed in white, as we were led into the sealing room of the Salt Lake Temple. There at the head of the altar stood Elder Harold B. Lee who was to be our sealer. I remember how beautiful he looked...yes, beautiful. He just seemed to have an aura all about him. There was such a special spirit in the room that day that I will never forget. Elder Lee had us sit as he gave us counsel before performing the ceremony. Probably like most of you who have been married, I don't remember everything he said to us. But there was one thing that I will never forget, probably because it sounded so unbelievable to me at the time. But over the last fifty-four years I realize how prophetic it really was. This is what he said: "I know how much love you feel for each other this day. I see it in your eyes. But I promise that in the years to come, your love will grow so much that, by comparison, you will wonder if you were in love at all on the day you were married." He was SO right! There are no words in the English language to express the love I feel today for that wonderful eternal companion of mine.
We knelt at the altar, held hands and looked into each other's eyes as Elder Lee performed that simple but beautiful ordinance that bound us together for time and all eternity. Then that first kiss over the altar as husband and wife. That was the most beautiful moment of my life. The hugs and expressions of love and congratulations which followed were blurred by comparison. I hardly remember assembling for pictures on the temple steps after the ceremony, but I have the pictures to prove that we did. I wasn't in my wedding dress as we see brides today. No one wore their wedding dresses in the temple or on the grounds afterwards for pictures. That was saved for the reception. So I was dressed in my navy blue faille suit, which I wore to the temple and my little blue hat which gratefully helped cover up my now drooping hair.
Then it was back home (no wedding luncheon) to get ready for the reception which also meant resetting my hair. What a way to spend your wedding day...in curlers!
Although I thought I would be too excited or too nervous to fall asleep, I dozed right off to "Dreamland" without even the dreams and slept peacefully through the night. I jumped right out of bed when the alarm went off at seven. I knew I had two hours to get ready before we had to be at the temple. That would be plenty of time for me, and probably even time to spare. Then I looked in the mirror. And there staring back at me was this ugly person with straight, limp hair. It seems that sometime during the night I had taken all the bobbi pins which held the pin curls out of my hair. I just stared in unbelief for at least a minute, and then I began to cry. What was I going to do? There wasn't time to reset and dry my hair. Air drying took time and only beauty salons had blow dryers. My family rallied around me and came up with the idea to use the oven to help dry my hair. I quickly reset my hair and spent the next hour or so bent over with my head in the warm oven. Although it didn't completely dry by the time I had to comb it out, my hair was at least presentable (a hat really helped) and we made it to the temple on time.
What a beautiful sight it was to see my immediate family, Mom, Dad, my two sisters, and Grandma Knapp, Jim's family, Jesse, Jean, and brother Rudy, plus aunts, uncles and friends, all dressed in white, as we were led into the sealing room of the Salt Lake Temple. There at the head of the altar stood Elder Harold B. Lee who was to be our sealer. I remember how beautiful he looked...yes, beautiful. He just seemed to have an aura all about him. There was such a special spirit in the room that day that I will never forget. Elder Lee had us sit as he gave us counsel before performing the ceremony. Probably like most of you who have been married, I don't remember everything he said to us. But there was one thing that I will never forget, probably because it sounded so unbelievable to me at the time. But over the last fifty-four years I realize how prophetic it really was. This is what he said: "I know how much love you feel for each other this day. I see it in your eyes. But I promise that in the years to come, your love will grow so much that, by comparison, you will wonder if you were in love at all on the day you were married." He was SO right! There are no words in the English language to express the love I feel today for that wonderful eternal companion of mine.
We knelt at the altar, held hands and looked into each other's eyes as Elder Lee performed that simple but beautiful ordinance that bound us together for time and all eternity. Then that first kiss over the altar as husband and wife. That was the most beautiful moment of my life. The hugs and expressions of love and congratulations which followed were blurred by comparison. I hardly remember assembling for pictures on the temple steps after the ceremony, but I have the pictures to prove that we did. I wasn't in my wedding dress as we see brides today. No one wore their wedding dresses in the temple or on the grounds afterwards for pictures. That was saved for the reception. So I was dressed in my navy blue faille suit, which I wore to the temple and my little blue hat which gratefully helped cover up my now drooping hair.
Then it was back home (no wedding luncheon) to get ready for the reception which also meant resetting my hair. What a way to spend your wedding day...in curlers!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Those Last Few Days Before the BIG ONE
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!!
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!!
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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