Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .#7

The new Mr. and Mrs. George Paul Wimsatt

The bride, still not sure about those "Ginger Rogers" bangs

Delores, the most beautiful Maid of Honor

It's time to get dressed, Ina", Mother said softly and I heard a

wistful hint of sadness in her voice. Then she smiled at me and

I could see those wonderful eyes dancing with joy, excitement

and a mother's love and pride.

Soon, our little home was abuzz with activity. Mother and

Theresa helped into my beautiful wedding dress. I fastened the

locket Leo had sent me for my birthday several years ago while

he was serving as a pilot in the Air Force. I had put a picture of

George in one side and a cameo made from the first picture taken

of George and I when we started dating. I slipped the locket

inside the neck of my dress and felt it laying cool against my

skin. It was my "something old". Martha handed me a pair of

beautiful pearl earrings to wear. They would be lovely with the

pearls on my veil. They were my "something new". Mother

pressed a white handkerchief with a delicate crocheted edging

into my hand. It was the one she carried when she married my

father. It was my "something borrowed" and she said I would

carry it again when George and I were sealed in the temple. I

had found a lacy blue garter the day that Theresa and I were

shopping for my dress in Salt Lake City. For some reason,

Delores thought it was hilarious when I had to go under all of

the material of my slip and dress to put it on. "You did that

backwards, Ina, I think it was supposed to go on before your

dress and slip." It was my "something blue".

I was dressed and Martha was fussing with my hair, no thanks

to those two pesky little clouds that had rained on me, and me

alone. I was still not sure about my new, short, "Ginger

Rogers" bangs but everyone assured me that my hair looked

very nice. The sun was shining, the air was clear, and as I

stepped outside to walk the short distance to Mrs. Free's, it

seemed that I could already smell the flowers that covered

the yard in a riot of beautiful color.

Delores looked beautiful in the lovely pink lace dress I had

chosen for her to wear as my Maid of Honor. Lois Marie and

Todd Ann looked like little angels and were already taking

their role as Flower Girls very seriously. Gino, as Best Man

looked. . . .well. . . .he looked like Gino and I admit that as I

saw him standing there, I was praying that he wouldn't act

like Gino. . . .the unpredictable prankster. . . .and ruin my

wedding.

With "butterflies in my stomach", I took my father's arm as

he walked me to my place and put my hand into George's.

He gave me a hug as he returned to his place and my heart

jumped as I saw the sweet and loving smile on Georges

face. Bishop Horlacher said some wonderful spiritual

things to us, gave us good advice, and injected a bit of

loving humor. It had all gone so beautifully, I had to

admit that when Bishop Horlacher asked Gino if he had

the ring to give to George, I had a moment of panic.

Having been on the receiving end of Gino's pranks over

the years, this seemed like the ultimate opportunity for

the "prank of all pranks", but Gino just smiled and handed

George the ring. Right then I could have hugged him but

instead I held out my hand and George slipped on my ring.

I put his on and suddenly it was all over, he pronounced

us man and wife ending with these words to George, "You

may now kiss your bride"! After all of those weeks of

preparation and anticipation, it was over. . . .or I guess

it would be more apt to say that is was just beginning,

I was married! As unreal as it seemed, I was a wife.

We had a short amount of time to stand amid the flowers

as family and friends congratulated us and then, with

Delores carrying my train and the little flower girls

scattering flowers petals ahead of us, we walked the

short distance to the church for the reception.

In Panaca, as in most of the small Mormon towns of that

time, wedding receptions followed a distinct pattern. The

receiving line formed in the spacious foyer. Relief Society

sisters took the gifts from the guests before they advanced

down the line and placed them on a nearby table. There

were guests from all of the little towns in Lincoln County.

The receiving line was a joyous reunion of our families and

friends with lots of laughter, a few tears, and many great

stories from those who had known me since I was an infant

and whose ancestors, like mine, had helped to settle the

beautiful little town of Panaca. George's family, not being

a part of this Mormon lore and heritage, must have been

overwhelmed by some of this but they took it all very

graciously and even tut tutted and laughed in all of the

right places.

No LDS wedding reception in Panaca was complete with

out the traditional program that began with a hilarious

parody of married life. Karma Hollingshead from Panaca

was well known throughout the county for her readings.

Whether spiritual, serious, or pure comedy, she was a

master storyteller with all of the theatrics to go with her

script. The reading she gave for us was a masterpiece

about marriage; the trials, pitfalls, and joys that we would

encounter throughout our life together as husband and

wife.

The highlight of our program was the performance of my

two little nieces, my sister Edna's daughters, Marsha and

Thea Ann. These little girls had always been one of my

dearest joys. While my other sisters had been helping

me get ready, Edna had been with Marsha and Ann as

they dressed and practiced for their part on the program.

Marsha was eleven and Ann was eight. Even as young as

they were, they were the ultimate performers. For little

girls they had polished singing voices that were way beyond

their years. They stood fearless and belted out rousing

renditions of two "Hit Parade" songs of the day; "Abba

Dabba Honeymoon" and "Side By Side". The guests

loved it and they were called back twice to sing

another chorus of the songs.

From Abba Dabba Honeymoon:

"Abba dabba dabba dabba dabba dabba dabba"

said the chimp, "I love but you.'

Abba dabba dabba in monkey talk means

"Chimp, I love you too."

Then the ol' baboon, one night in June,

married them and very soon,

they sailed away on an Abba Dabba Honeymoon!"

(Eat your heart out, Debbie Reynolds!)

And, from Side By Side:

Through all kinds of weather, what if the sky should fall?

As long as we're together,

it really doesn't matter at all.

When they've all had their troubles and parted,

we'll be the same as we started,

just travelin' along singing a song, Side By Side.

(as I post this story, it is just several months from

59 years of being side by side, that's not too bad!)

Before the reception was over, they were asked to sing at

two other wedding receptions that were taking place soon.

They were the "Belles of the Ball!"

Refreshments were served during the program and then

there was dancing to the music of the Lincoln County

orchestra/band. I tossed my boquet (to Delores) but

was too timid to let George retrieve and toss the garter.

It was a perfect day, well almost, there were those two

little clouds that cried, a perfect wedding and a perfect

reception.

Next up. . . .Our Honeymoon. . . .

George's Hobby. . . .MACFest Update. . . .

George tooling a picture at MACFest

Some completed projects he has for sale

He is loving his new set up. It is very efficient and can be closed in if it
rains or is windy. Also, it has great sun protection.
Wallets and Scripture Carriers are two of his most popular items

At his demonstration at the Arizona State Fair

Some pictures he displayed at his demonstration

Wallets, purses, totes and Scripture Carriers for display

MACFest this year has been a lot of fun for George. It has been a

lot of fun for all of us.

He is proud of his new set up; cabana, awnings, display racks and

more efficient workspace. It compares in a good light with any of

the vendor's booths at MACFest.

Interest in his work continues to grow and he has had more sales

this year. There are people who took his card last year who are

calling him and coming in this year. Being assigned by the Mesa

Art Guild to do a demonstration at the Arizona State Fair in

November and December, generated some new interest and new

customers. Rhonda and I were able to go to the fair and check out

his demonstration. It was very well done.

Muggles and I love to visit him at MACFest. We look forward to

Saturday when we join him for lunch and get to talk to the people

who stop by his booth. Muggles is a good ambassador, everyone

loves her, especially the children, and she loves them. Our

children and grandchildren, even those from out of town, often

drop in to say hello, check out what is happening, and eat lunch

with us. Old downtown Mesa is fun and interesting. MACFest

has definitely become a family fun time.

This is what George says about his leather work hobby: "This is

what an old man can do with all of the time he has on hand now

that he is too old to be in the work space."

He goes on to say, "I don't expect to make much money from

doing this but it gives me a great deal of pleasure to meet

people each Saturday and talk with them. When they purchase

a piece of my work, it is just an added bonus of my love for my

leather art. Leather work gives me something to look forward

to and it challenges me to improve, be creative, and definitely

to improve my painting skills. For an old man who lived to work

with his hands, this is what I love to do."

I am very proud of George and appreciate his talent and his

desire to keep improving and to share it with people.

Thanks For The Memories. . . .

George and I had a very special Christmas this year thanks to our
wonderful family.

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear but with a definite
winter chill in the air. We went to Steve and Rhonda's for breakfast.
There was quite a group there, Steve and Rhonda, George and I,
Brinton and Charlotte, Cote, Brexton, and Nixon, Trey, Jenna and
Spur, Paul and Joanne, Scotty and Keri, Martin and Miller, Ryan
and Julie, Crew, Cole, Cash, and Brannon and Amanda.

Rhonda and Steve with Trey and Jenna's help, really prepared a
breakfast feast fit for royalty, which of course we are! George
made his traditional cinnamon rolls and we took eggnog to go with
them.

It was a blast watching seven little boys and one little princess
opening their gifts. They were loving every minute of it. Order
quickly went out the door as they got into the spirit of Christmas.
The little children are what makes Christmas so much fun. To see
the excitement and wonder on their little faces brings a sense of
awe into my life.

It was a special treat that Paul and Joanne were here in Mesa and
were able to join us at Rhonda's. They said they had a lot of fun.
Before the day was over, we also had calls from Jeni, Justin, Craig,
Miranda, Hannah, and Josh. I went to bed knowing that we had
shared our Christmas joy with all of our children, grandchildren,
and great grandchildren. We didn't talk to Ethan, but Jeni, Paul,
Joanne, and Justin all shared his Christmas fun with us. It was
truly a perfect day!

Muggles didn't get to go to Rhonda's with us, but when we got
home, she opened her gift and she was as joyous and excited as
all of the little kids. Her tail didn't stop wagging the rest of the day
and she slept with her head resting on her new hedgehog toy and
with her new ball tucked between her paws.

Thank you to each member of our family for being the special
people you are, for loving us, supporting us, and putting up with
us as we have grown older and passed the baton to you. We love
you all so much!

Gingerbread Houses. . . .A Christmas Tradition. . . .

Sunday afternoon George and I went to Steve and Rhonda's for

their traditional monthly family dinner. It was a night to observe

family traditions with Mable Burgers, a Gunnell family tradition

being served for dinner and after we ate, helping the little kids

build gingerbread houses. My role was more to watch than to

help. After many years of being in charge of "Gingerbread House

Building", I have been more than happy to pass that role on to my

grandchildren's parents, who just happen to be my kids. It has

been gratifying to know that this family tradition has now been

extended to include Steve and Rhonda's blended family and they

love it, too.

When Paul, Rhonda, and Craig were growing up, part of our

celebration was building gingerbread and candy houses and

decorating sugar and gingerbread cookies that had been cut

into angels, Santa and Mrs. Claus, Christmas trees, stars, and

other Christmas characters.

When my first grandchild, Justin was three, I wanted to start

a Christmas Tradition of building gingerbread houses with my

grandchildren. We have continued this tradition each year since

and my grandchildren have loved it as they passed from child-

hood into their teens, young adults, newly weds, and parents.

Rhonda and Charlotte have posted pictures of this years fun

on their blogs and I have decided that for my Christmas story

on "Growing Up Ina", I will post some random gingerbread

house pictures from past years. I do not have the very early

pictures of Justin and Jeni as I left the picture taking up to

Joanne. Jeni tells me she does have some. I do not have any

of Joshua building a house as from the time he was old

enough to do it, they have lived away from us, even as far

away as Puerto Rico and India. He has built houses, though.

That is one thing that has been so wonderful about this

tradition, if we can not be together, we know that wherever

our family members are, they will be building their ginger-

bread houses at Christmas time. This year, while Miranda

was building hers with us at Rhonda and Steve's, Hannah

was building hers, with her friend Courtney, in Arkansas.

I hope you enjoy this glimpse of my family enjoying a

beloved family tradition through the years.

All Things Zoo. . . .

Aldabra Tortoise

Grevys Zebra - The Grevys is the largest of the Zebra species

Reticulated Giraffes feeding near the observation tower

The Petting Zoo on The Childrens Trail

Asian Elephants - Reba and Indu - Sanctuary Animals

More of Reba and Indu

The new Komodo Exhibit - the female dragon

The Orangutan family - Duchess, the Matriarch, is the

oldest living Orangutan in any Zoo world wide. She will be 50 in March

Three Ring Tailed Lemurs sitting in a row

One of the islands for our apes - these are Gibbons

The Cheetah - The Phoenix Zoo belongs to the SSP for

this animal and has bred many to go to other zoos

The Mhorr Gazelle - This beautiful animal is the largest

of the Gazelles and is extinct in the wild

Spock, the Mandrill

Ken - The Hamadryas Baboon with one of his girls

White Rhinos - Notch and Half Ear - Sanctuary animals

African Lions - Brother and Sister

Jai the Sumatran Tiger

A female Ostrich on the African Savannah

Prairie Dogs enjoying the sunshine

Gila Monsters and a Speckled Rattlesnake

A Golden Eagle and two Ravens

Two Mexican Grey Wolves - severly endangered they are

part of the zoos SSP - the zoo breeds them and they have
been successfully released into the wild

It has been 72 years since my sister, Theresa, and brother-in-law,

LeGrande, took an excited little girl to the Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake

City. It was my first visit to a zoo. I had always loved animals and

to be able to actually see these beautiful wild animals in reality

instead of in the National Geographic and Readers Digest magazines

that I studied voraciously each month, was a dream come true. Each

time I visited Theresa and LeGrande, they made sure I was able to

visit the zoo.

When I went to live with them in 1949 after graduating from high

school, Shasta, the Hogle Zoo's famous liger, was just a year old.

She had been born at the zoo. Her parents were a male African Lion

and an Asian Tiger. I was fascinated with her. She was beautiful. I

visited her as often as I could while I was living there and several

times I took my two little nephews, Jim and Karl, with me so they

could see Shasta and the other animals. Shasta died in 1972 at the

age of 24. I was able to see her shortly before she died.

That first trip to the Hogle Zoo was the beginning of my life long

love affair with zoos. When George and I were married, he was in

the navy stationed in San Diego, California. Our first home there

was a lovely apartment in Hillcrest, a suburb of San Diego. We had

no car and little money, but our apartment was located just a block

from beautiful Balboa Park and we could walk through the park to

the San Diego Zoo. As a member of the Armed Forces, George and

I paid a bargain 25 cents admission to enter the zoo. Almost every

Saturday that he did not have duty, we would spend the day at

the zoo and the park. We had our favorite tree at the park. We

would spread a blanket under it and play games, read, eat, and

just relax. George usually took a nap and I watched people.

Paul, Rhonda, and Craig grew up with the San Diego Zoo as one of

their favorite places to go. They loved to ride the carousel just

outside of the zoo entrance. They would ride it over and over again

as they tried to grab the brass ring to earn a free ride. I'm not

sure that always ended up being a bargain, but they sure had fun.

Later, when we would go to the zoo with Justin and Jeni, they too

loved trying to grab the brass ring. They loved to celebrate their

birthdays at Balboa Park and we looked forward to joining them

for the fun at our favorite park.

We have been to the San Diego Zoo with Brinton and Trey many

times and have watched them laugh with excitement as they. too,

tried to capture the brass ring for their free ride. We have also

been there with Miranda and Hannah. I am not sure if we have

been there with Josh, but we have been to zoos with him and

his sisters in Kansas, Texas, and Phoenix. When we moved to

Mesa, I knew one of the things I would miss the most would be

the beautiful San Diego Zoo. Rhonda and Ken had moved to

Mesa. We followed a few years later. One of the first things

Rhonda and I did after we got settled was to take Brinton and

Trey to the Phoenix Zoo. Just as their mother had grown up

with the San Diego Zoo, so they grew up with the Phoenix Zoo

as one of their favorite places. It is a beautiful zoo and I fell in

love with it on that first visit.

One morning in 1991, as I read the Phoenix Republic newspaper,

I saw an add that the Phoenix Zoo was recruiting volunteers to

serve at the zoo. I applied and was accepted. I just recently

marked my 18th year as a Phoenix Zoo Volunteer. I have loved

my service there and consider it one of the most rewarding

things I have done. Now, in addition to my grandchildren, it

has given me the opportunity to be involved with my great

grandchildren, Cote, Brexton, and Nixon at many special

occasions at the zoo. Their parents and G Mama take them

often. Zoo lights has become a Christmas Tradition that our

family looks forward to each year. I have not yet visited a

zoo with our other little great grandson, Ethan, but have seen

pictures of a recent trip he had to the San Diego Zoo with his

mother, Jeni, and grandmother, Joanne. I look forward to

a trip to the zoo with him. It will be fun in the future to

watch his first attempt at capturing the brass ring on the

Carousel after a visit to the zoo, just as I watched his Grand-

dad, mother, and Uncle Justin do when they were children.

So, that first visit by a wide eyed little girl to the Hogle Zoo

in Salt Lake City those many years ago, has come full

circle as I extend my love of zoos to yet another generation.

When I worked my shift at the zoo last week, I chose to

serve as a roving Trail Host so I could take pictures of the

animals and their habitats as I moved from one stop to

another. The animals are not all close ups as I wanted

the pictures to also show the beauty of "my" zoo to post on

Growing Up Ina and The James Wadsworth blogs.

Happy Thanksgiving. . . .

I want to wish my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren a
beautiful Thanksgiving day.

When I say my prayers each night and thank my Father In Heaven
for all of the blessings he bestows upon me each day, the first thing I
thank him for is my wonderful family.

George and I have been blessed with children and grandchildren who
make us proud, each and every, day. You are good people. You love
and support us. You fill our lives with joy. You give us purpose and
a desire to hang around for a while longer. Paul, Rhonda, Craig,
Justin, Jennifer, Brinton , Trey, Miranda, Hannah, Joshua, thank you.

Paul chose Joanne, Rhonda chose Steve, Craig chose Ann, you have
added so much. Thank you for being part of our family.

Chris, Charlotte, and Jenna, we have welcomed you into our family
with open arms and appreciate each of you for your unique traits
and all you do for us.

Now, as the great grandchildren arrive, that purpose and desire is
even stronger. There is so much to see and experience as we watch
them grow. Cote, Brexton, Nixin, and Ethan, you are, indeed, very
special.

Thank you to each one of you for bringing us so much joy and filling
our hearts with so much pride.

We love you so much,

Mom and Dad, Grandma and Granddad, George and Ina
Great Grandma and Great Granddad

Dirty Corduroys And Curly Hair. . . .

Hi-de-ho' to all of you 'Hep Cats',

"What's buzzin, cousin?"

I wanted to post a little trivia about the dirty corduroys worn by
David and Ronnie in the picture accompanying my story, "What
Are You Doing Here?"

The late 1940s were an exciting time to be alive, especially if you
were a high school student full of adventure and enthusiasm.
The fads in clothing were the 'Cat's Pajamas' and 'Slangish' was a
language that belonged to us and was a 'solid' part of our lives.

The boys of Lincoln County High School soon discovered that
corduroy pants were a comfortable and welcome addition to levis
in their wardrobe and they became the 'threads' of choice. They
found themselves saving all of the 'dead presidents' (money) they
could in order to purchase a pair. Cream or light beige were the
colors of choice because they more easily showed the dirt.

I say, a pair, because one pair could last for most of a school year.
They never washed them. If Mother even looked like she was
going to include them in the weekly laundry, they would 'flip
their wig'! The dirtier they were, the more 'cool' it was. The
campus was 'buzzin' with boys 'gammin' (showing off) their dirty
cords.

David's were some of the dirtier cords on campus. He was
'dynamite', the 'cat's meow' and was 'flapping his lips' about
it to anyone who would listen, and those who didn't want to.
We had a joke at home that they were so stiff he just stepped
out of them at night and stood them in the corner until he
was ready to jump into them in the morning. I swear that
I have gone into his room and seen those cords standing in
the corner on their own. That was when they moved from
being ordinary to 'killer-diller' (good stuff).

Another fad that took the boys of Lincoln County High School by
storm was curly hair like David and Ronnie flaunted, in order for
them to appear very 'cool'. Much to the delight of the merchants,
the Home Perms jumped off the shelves faster than they could
stock them. Homes throughout the county had that distinctive
odor as dozens of cury haired boys boys vied with each other
to be designated as the 'grooviest dude' on campus.

When David was a senior, the Lincoln County Lynx basketball
team all sported curly hair. I am rather proud of the way David's
curly hair looks in that picture, as it was I, who gave him the perm.
I have to admit that he looked 'swell' when I was finished.

Check out that picture again and pay particular attention to those
dirty cords and curly hair, they are indeed, the 'bee's knees'!

To help you be 'gone' (knowledgeable) about the Slangish in this
story, I have marked it thusly ' '. I hope you 'dig' it. I'm going to
'fade' now, 'see you later alligator'!

What Are You Doing Here?!!. . . .

My wedding was not without it's share of drama and humor. In addition to the drama of me getting caught in a sudden, and isolated,

thundershower a scant hour before the wedding ceremony, another

incident occurred which was hilarious and quickly became a favorite

story for both the Wadsworth and Wimsatt families.

George's sister, Margaret, worked for quite a few years at the El

Rancho Drive-In Restaurant in Las Vegas as a Car Hop. It was

located on Charleston Blvd. and Main St. and was a popular hangout

for the young people, both local and out of town.

One day in February of 1951, a car load of young men from Panaca,

who were in Las Vegas to watch the Lincoln County Lynx play in

the Regional Basketball Tournament, pulled into one of the drive-in

stalls. The driver was my brother David. Now, anyone who knew

David, also knew that he had the enviable reputation of being the

world's greatest tease. Well, at least Lincoln Colunty's greatest

tease. He was always at his happiest, and his best, if he had what

he considered the perfect subject upon which to work his magic.

A pretty dark haired woman came bouncing over to take their

order. The story goes that David immediately began to work his

wiles. He soon found that this vivacious, enthusiastic woman

could dish it out with the best of them. They bantered back and

forth as she took their order, and again when she delivered it.

After they had eaten, she handed David the bill and started to

remove the tray. David grabbed it and said, "I've always

wanted one of these. How much will you charge me for it?"

Pretty Woman, "I'm sorry, the trays are not for sale."

David, "Aw, come on, I'll buy it for more than it is worth."

Pretty Woman, "Sorry, can't do it."

David, "Okay then, what if I just drive away with it?"

Pretty Woman, "Are you trying to get me fired?"

David, "Heck no, they aren't going to fire their prettiest and

best car hop over one cheap tray."

Pretty Woman, "Want to bet on that, and I need this job!"

David, "Spoil sport, what if I just do this?" And with that,

he handed her the money plus a generous tip, pulled the

tray into the car and as they roared away, heard her yell,

"You'll be sorry! I'll find you!

Fast forward three months and we find David sitting in the

living room of his parents home on Ina's wedding day. He

was joshing with his sisters and teasing Ina about marrying

a 'Rock Eater' and living in Pioche for the rest of her life.

"A fate worse than death", he said.

Someone knocks on the front door and David saunters over

to answer it. He opens the door and stares into the brown

eyes of a familiar looking pretty woman. They look at each

other in shocked silence, and then in unison, young man and

pretty woman exclaim, "What are you doing here?"

As his family sits with open mouths, and without missing a

beat, Pretty Woman says, " I came for my tray."

David, innocently, "What tray?"

Pretty Woman, "The one you stole."

David, "I didn't steal any tray and besides how did you know

where to find me?"

Pretty Woman, "I have my sources."

David, now a bit rattled, "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

Pretty Woman, "I came to see Sheriff George Wimsatt."

David, "Ah shucks, don't tell me you've come to have me

arrested over a cheap tray, which by the way, I was always

planning on returning. But really, what are you doing here?"

Pretty Woman, "Yeah, I just bet you were planning on re-

turning it, but besides meeting with Sheriff Wimsatt, I am

here for my little brother, Junior's wedding. He is going to

marry Ina Wadsworth today."

David, in shock, "Ina is my sister and she is certainly not

going to be marrying anyone named Junior, she's going to

be married to George Wimsatt."

Pretty Woman, "What? You mean my little Junior is

marrying the sister of a soon to be convicted, thief?"

David, trying to fit it all together...Junior...George...

Sheriff Wimsatt..."Who the heck (I'm not sure heck is the

word he used but for my story, it is the one I will use) are

you lady?"

Enjoying every minute of David's discomfort and laughing so

hard she could barely stand, Pretty Woman says, "I guess I

had better introduce myself. I am Junior's, I mean George's

sister, Margaret Garrison and I'm here with my daughter

Todd Ann, to make sure her Flower Girl dress fits."

As his family were overcome with helpless laughter, a redfaced

David mutters, "Pleased to meetcha" and under his breath,

"Not really."

David did try to return the tray. Margaret refused saying it

was worth every cent that was deducted from her pay check

to watch him squirm. "Besides", she said, "He really is a cutie

and his generous tip paid for the tray.

This is a true story. It is written from my memory and the

accounts of those who witnessed it on that fateful day. Some-

times the Devil really does get his due, but oh how I, and

everyone who knew him, loved that handsome Devil!

A bit of trivia; George was christened George Paul Wimsatt, Jr.

Much to his dismay, as he was growing up, his three older sisters

called him 'Junior'. He hated it. While living in Las Vegas, he and

his sister Betty, often walked down So. 5th Ave. to Anderson's

Dairy where Margaret worked, to get milk and cheese. The

dairy made ice cream, which they sold there, and supplied to

stores throughout the area. Margaret would usually give them

a pint of soft ice cream before it was completely frozen, for

them to eat as they walked home. One day, as they left the

dairy, Betty handed the bag containing the glass bottles of

milk to George and said, "Here, Junior, you carry the milk."

He said, "Don't call me Junior, and why do I have to carry

it?" She answered, "Because I told you to, that's why!"

Thoroughly angry, George said, "No, I won't," put the bag

down on the curb and bolted for home like a frightened deer.

Being an athletic sixteen year old tomboy, she would have

soon overtaken this eleven year old boy, but after chasing

him for a few blocks, she reluctantly went back to retrieve

the milk. Knowing his parents weren't home to protect him,

he ran into the desert by the trailer park and hid until they

returned. Even after his show of defiance, Betty still continued

to call him Junior and insist that he carry the milk.

Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .#6

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes. It was still dark. I
heard soft sounds coming from the kitchen as mom went about
her early morning routine. They were familiar and comforting
sounds, signifying that all was right in my life. I smiled to my
self and then realized that mom was talking to someone. It
sounded like my sister, Theresa, but what was she doing here
in Panaca, she wasn't here when I went to bed a few hours ago.
Theresa! I sat up with such a jolt that Delores, who was sharing
the bed with me, tossed restlessly in her sleep. Then, I
remembered! Today, May 24, 1951, was my wedding day.
Today, I would marry my sweetheart, George Paul Wimsatt.
With my heart pounding and butterflies in my stomach, I tried
to relax as I thought back over the last few days.

It seemed that everything had happened so fast. When George
left for his Boot Camp at the naval Training Center in San Diego,
we had just renewed our romance. We had decided while
corresponding, that we would be married when he graduated
from Boot Camp and was home on leave. Knowing there would
only be a little over two months to prepare, I had been very
busy. With my mother and sister's help, I felt that we had
done a remarkable job with the preparations for the wedding
and George's baptism, which had taken place just two days ago.

My bishop was out of town and would not be returning before
George had to report back to The Naval Training Center, so we
asked Bishop Horlacher from Pioche, who was George's bishop,
to marry us. He was a good friend of my father and also was
the father of my sister Delores' boyfriend, Pete. George had
chosen Gino Choquer to be his Best Man and Delores was to
be my Maid of Honor. Our little nieces, Lois Marie Magleby and
Todd Ann Garrison, were to be our Flower Girls. Theresa had
made the little girls dresses and George's sister Margaret
would be here this morning with Todd so Theresa could make
sure her dress fit her properly. My wedding gown and veil
were pressed and hanging on the closet door. My sister,
Martha, would be here this morning to style my hair. I wanted
it to hang natural with soft curls and a fluffy bang.

We had decided on an outdoor wedding. Mom's best friend,
Rachael Free, lived just down the street from us on the corner
directly across from "the Castle". She had the most beautiful
yard in Panaca. It was a showcase of beautiful flowers, trees,
and shrubbery. It was a riot of color with flowers of all shapes
and hues blooming in wild profusion. She was delighted to open
her beautiful yard to us for our wedding. Her son, Darrel and
his wife Lena, had been helping her plant new flowers, replace
old ones, and trim shrubbery and trees. An arbor had been
built and laced with flowers.

Our wedding ceremony was to take place in the late afternoon
and the reception would then be held at the chapel in the
multi-purpose room. My family, with help from some of the
Panaca women, had decorated the room, and the foyer where
we would greet the guests, with armfulls of flowers that Mrs.
Free had let us cut. They made the room and tables look
beautiful. Refreshments were to be made, and served, by
the ward sisters.

Panaca could still be having chilly weather in May with a chance
of thundershowers, but the weather today was supposed to be
nice. I convinced myself that it would be foolish for me to worry
about an outdoor wedding with a chance of thundershowers. I
admit that was easier said than done.

Thinking about all of this, I decided we were ready. I lay there
for a little while reflecting on it and trying hard to calm myself.
I had to confess that I was nervous and wondered if George was
also feeling a little apprehensive. That thought made me smile,
as he had always impressed me as being an "unflappable" type
of guy. During our romance, there had been many times when
circumstances had put me into a frenzy and he had remained
so calm and cool that I wanted to pound on him. I think I was
secretly wanting him to be just a little nervous.

I snuggled back down and lay there for awhile until I heard
sounds signifing that mom was heating water to wash hair and
take baths. I decided I had better get up.

Things seemed to move along smoothly. "All too smoothly", I
found myself thinking. Margaret had arrived from Las Vegas.
Todd and Marie were the same age and size, and so her dress
was a perfect fit. They were adorable, two little blondes, Todd
with brown eyes and Marie with blue.

I washed my hair and took a bath. No mean feat since it was
all done in the kitchen, which was transformed into a bathroom,
in a #3 tub filled with steaming hot water and sitting on two
wooden chairs. This was perfectly normal to me, having bathed
and washed my hair in this manner my whole life. This, being
my day, I was privileged to use the facilities first, thus being
assured of having plenty of hot water. Some of the family had
already taken their baths, having gone to the Spring last night.
After I was through, I combed the tangles from my hair so it
would be dry when Martha was ready to perform her magic.

As we were leaving immediately after the reception to go to
Las Vegas, I needed to pack and be ready for our Honeymoon
trip. We were riding to Vegas with Margaret. She would drop
us at the El Cortez Hotel. While in high school, when we would
travel to Las Vegas for school trips, I would often gaze with
longing at this beautiful old hotel and dream of one day staying
there. That I was actually going to spend my wedding night
there was a dream come true! We would be there for two
days and then take the train to Los Angeles where George's
brother, Jack, would pick us up. They had converted a part
of their beautiful home into a private suite for us. We would
stay there for several days and spend some time at the beaches
and Knott's Berry Farm. Jack would then drive us to San Diego
for George to report back to the Naval Training Center and I
would take the train to Caliente.

Martha worked her magic with my hair. It fell to my shoulders
in soft, natural curls and my longish bangs were fluffy, just as I
had envisioned. She was quite proud of herself. Now there was
nothing left to do but wait until it was time to dress for the
wedding ceremony. It had been too easy, surely nothing could
go wrong now! Just before it was time to dress, Mrs. Free
called to say she had a vase of roses to be placed by the guest
book in the foyer. I was feeling antsy and decided to get the
flowers and walk them to the chapel, thinking the exercise
would calm my nerves. It only took a few minutes and I was
on my way home. I noticed the sun had momentarily dis-
appeared and looking up, I noticed two small black clouds
directly over me. I was a block from home when there was a
flash of lightening and a loud clap of thunder, and then those
two little clouds opened up and a deluge of rain poured down.
There was no place for me to go for shelter, so I sprinted like a
wild thing for home. The sun was already shining again as I
burst through the door.

I was soaked and all I could see was Martha's shocked face.
There was no time left and my beautiful hair was ruined.
What can you do when your wedding is a scant hour away?
We didn't have a hair dryer. We did have a curling iron if we
could dry my hair enought to use it. Martha was able to
put some soft curls back into my hair but my bangs just
seemed to hang limply in my eyes no matter how much she
teased them. With me in a tizzy, she decided to cut them
very short into what she described as "The bang that Ginger
Rogers had just made famous". It exposed a lot of forehead
and the ends barely turned under. "Just trust me, Ina" she
soothed, as I ranted and raved. I tried to relax. She, after
all, had been a model in Miami, Florida. She loved it, I wasn't
sure about it. "What a bride I will be with braces on my teeth
and a bare forehead showing below these famous Ginger
Rogers bangs!" Too late to worry, though, it was time to get
dressed. At least those two irritable clouds didn't rain on
Mrs. Free's garden, the bridal party and wedding guests
wouldn't get wet. As for me, it had just been a case of being
in the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely it wasn't an
omen of things to come? No, I was too happy!

Next up. . . .Our Wedding. . . .

Thank You Very Much . . . .

This month I celebrate the first anniversary of my blog, "Growing
Up Ina". It has been fun sharing stories of my Wadsworth
ancestors from the time they left England and became one of the first families to settle and make their homes in the beautiful little town of Panaca, Utah Territory, now Panaca, Nevada, where my
father, James Allen Wadsworth, was born in 1887 and where I
was born 46 years later.

In telling my stories, I realize I have barely begun my journey,
which began 78 years ago. There are still thousands, even
millions, of words to be put into print as I relive the events that
have shaped my life and the lives of those of you who read these
stories. I thank you for doing so. I appreciate your comments.
They help me to know what it is you really want me to write
about, which events most interest you, and how I can maintain
your interest. I want my stories to help you to know and love
your ancestors, and to better understand what it is that has
shaped my destiny and made me into the person I am today.
I hope with all of my heart that I have remained true to my
heritage.

Writing these stories has not always been easy. Sometimes my
research and memories are easily transferred into the story I
want to tell and sometimes days, or weeks, pass and I have
been unable to write a single line. I am a firm believer in the
'writer's block' I have always read about. It is real.

With Rhonda's help and encouragement, on September 14, 2008,
I posted my first little story. It featured my sweet little Muggles
as she played at Quail Run Dog Park. One year and 8 days later,
on September 22, 2009, my most recent post also features
Muggles enjoying a beautiful Terrier Morning at Quail Run. It
has been a fun year and with your support and encouragement,
I look forward to year number two as I continue my journey,
"Growing Up Ina".

A Terrier Morning At Quail Run . . . .

Top picture - Muggles and Mickey
Middle - Peas in a Pod - Carly, Penny, Muggles
Lft to Rt - Dora, Carly, Penny, Minnie Mouse, Muggles

It has been so much fun having Muggles as our funny, mischievious,

bossy, sassy, loyal, and always loving, little companion. There is

never a dull moment in our house. She has her schedule and doesn't

like any deviation from it. She knows what she wants and she lets

us know. From the time she gets up until she goes to bed, she is on a

mission to get it all done, leaving nothing out. She is a terrier, true to

her breed.

David Frey, the voice of the Westminster Dog Show at Madison

Square Garden, said of Coco, the little red Norfolk Terrier I fell in

love with when I first saw her strut her stuff while winning Best

of Show there in 2004, "Besides being a great Norfolk Terrier,

Coco exceeds that very trait that has made terriers so successful in

the Westminster ring all of these years. I like to describe it as always

being on their toes, looking for trouble, which is what they were bred

to do, after all."

So thank you, Coco, aka Cracknor Cause Celebre, for making me

fall in love with you, step one in my quest to have my own little red

Norfolk. Muggles has enriched our lives in so many ways. One of

the things that has been so much fun about having this little dog is

that the Norfolk is very rare in the Southwest. You hardly ever

see them. In fact, Muggles is the only one I have ever seen except

in pictures. She is a topic of conversation wherever we go as people

try to determine what breed of terrier she is. Most do not know

and it is exciting when someone comes up to me and says, "You

have a Norfolk."

It was a wonderful day at the dog park several months ago when

Brenda came with her little Norwich, Dora. The Norwich and Norfolk

were considered one breed, the Norfolk, until 1964 when breeders

in England separated the prick ear and the drop ear dogs into two

breeds. The prick ear became the Norwich and the drop ear

retained the name of Norfolk. The American Kennel Club officially

separated them into two breeds in 1974. Except for the ears and

shape of the eye, they look like the same little dog.

Brenda had told me a couple would be coming to the park with

their four little Norwich Terriers. Muggles and I watched for them

with great anticipation. They have been there twice and Brenda is

there with Dora. I can't describe how I felt when Muggles and I

walked into the park and five little Norwich Terriers ran to meet

us. It was instant bonding. Muggles knew they were like her.

Now, in addition to Muggles and Dora, we have Mickey, Minnie

Mouse, Penny, and Carly. Like Dora, Mickey is the color they

refer to as grizzle, Minnie Mouse is a reddish blonde with a black

saddle, and Penny and Carly are red like Muggles. They are

adorable. I have learned that there is a group formed of people

who have Norwich and Norfolk Terriers. They meet once a month

in Scottsdale during the fall and winter months. They have

invited us to attend their get togethers. They say there are more

Norwich than Norfolk and they are excited to have Muggles meet

everyone. We will probably go. It should be fun.

James Allen Wadsworth . . . .

My father, James Allen Wadsworth

I wish I had a picture of Brock and Bawly,

the oxen, or Brock and Bawly the horses.

This is the only picture I have of Dad on

a horse. It is a copy of a copy of a copy

and so is not very clear. I don't know for

sure which horse he is on, but it looks

like Leo's beautiful palomino, Silver. If

so, the picture was probably taken in the

mid to late 30s. I rode Silver when I was a little girl.

Judging by the jacket Dad is wearing and

Silver's coat, the picture was probably

taken in the fall or early winter.

You can see our little Panaca house in the

background.

Brock And Bawly . . . .

On Oct 29, 1855, the First Presidency of the Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints issued the
Thirteenth General Epistle which contained the
following instructions:"Let all Saints who can, gather
up for Zion, and come while the way is open before
them. Let the poor also come. Let them come on
foot, with handcarts or wheel barrows. Let them
gird up their loins and walk through, and nothing
shall hinder or stay them."

These instructions would profoundly affect the lives
of the saints in England, including my great grand-
parents, George A. and Elizabeth Broadbent
Wadsworth and the family of his Uncle James.

Several years before this time, George had been left
a widower with an infant son, also named James.
George was a coal miner and lived in Coal Aston,
England. His Uncle James and Aunt Elizabeth lived
just a few miles away in Pilley. Since George had to
work, they took little James into their home as a
foster child. Even after George married Elizabeth,
little James continued to live them. They also had
a daughter, Mary, age 19.

In the spring of 1885, the annual call for members to
immigrate to America had been issued. James and
George sent their names, and those of their family,
to the president of the European Mission, along with
a recommend from their local church leaders. From
the long list of those who applied, the Mission
President chose those who could immigrate in 1856
according to the length of their church membership
and their age and marital status. Both Wadsworth
families were chosen to go. James' family consisted
of James, age 46, his wife Elizabeth, age 50, daughter
Mary, age 19, little James, age 8, Elizabeth's mother,
Mary Hutchison, age 70, and her brother Edward
Hutchison, age, 25. George's family consisted of
George, age 30, his wife Elizabeth, age 24, and their
infant son, Nephi John, age 3 1/2 months (my
grandfather.)

They began their journey from England on May 25,
1856, and sailed to America on the ship, Horizon. It
was crowded and uncomfortable. Many had not
known what to expect and were dismayed at the
conditions. The Wadsworth's were able to pay their
own way and so fared a little better, but for most on
board, "the poor and faithful" who had waited for
years to gather to Zion, those for whom the Thirteenth
General Epistle and the PEF made immigration
possible, this passage would be one of meager
supplies. Even so, morale was high and the saints
were kept busy.

After June 9th, the women commenced making tents
and wagon covers. Church leaders had arranged for
3,426 yards of nankeen (canvas), 105 pounds of
thread, and 2-1/2 cups of needles to be on board. The
patterns to be used called for 44 yards of material for
a tent and 26 yards for a wagon cover. All but 996.31
yards of the material were for the PEF passengers.
From the remaining material, James had purchased
96 yards which would make one tent and two wagon
covers. By Friday, June 2oth, 45 tents and 8 wagon
covers had been completed. On June 28th, land was
sighted and the saints heard the joyful shout of
"Land, Ho!" It was Cape Cod and the Horizon
sailed into the harbor and dropped anchor two
miles out of Boston, Ma.

After leaving the Horizon, they traveled to a camp-
ground near Iowa City, where the Saints were
gathering. It was July 4, 1856. The tents that had
been made on the ship were immediately set up. It
was very crowded with four to five families being
assigned to a tent. The assembled saints began
immediately to prepare for their trek across the plains.

Despite their excitement and enthusiasm, they had
been warned by leaders and others who had been
over the trail, that it would be dangerous and fool
hardy to start the trek so late in the season. They
were warned of terrible weather, roads that would
be impassable, and the lack of needed supplies to
be found along the way. Most of the saints from
the small European countries had no concept of
the vastness of the American plains or the size of
the mountains and the number of rivers they would
have to cross. However, as they had been told by
others who had been over the trail that it could
still be done, the enthusiasm of those saints who
had been waiting for years to come to America,
could not be dampened.

The James Wadsworth family was assigned to
the last wagon train out. It was to be led by Dan
Jones as Captain and would be following the
Edward Martin and James Willie Handcart
companies. There was a delay in it's time of
departure. This was due, in large part, to the
handcarts. 260 of them had to be made. Since
there was no seasoned wood available, they were
having to be constructed from green wood.
The axles for those green handcarts were also
made of wood that sweated and gathered grit, and
the wheels were not iron bound and wore down.
Their whole structure warped in the dry desert air
Precious time was lost as they struggled to over-
come these obstacles.

George and Elizabeth had decided not to make the
trek in 1856. Perhaps they took the warnings
seriously and were worried about the high mortality
rate of infants making the long journey across the
plains, or perhaps it was that they wanted more
time to be be prepared and more means with which
to equip themselves. Their decision was made and
they moved from the campground into Iowa City
where George found work. The parting from James
and Elizabeth and little James had to be very sad.
Even though little James had not lived with his
father since he was an infant, they had lived close to
each other and saw one another often. So, when
George saw his son heading west while he went a little
east, the distnce between them was to be greater than
it ever had been, or ever would be again.

On August lst, the Dan Jones wagon train departed
following the two handcart companies. The handcarts
were moving very fast, happy and singing as they
went. In the beginning, they averaged 20 miles a
day compared to 10 miles a day by the wagon train.

As the journey progressed and the weather worsened,
the trials and tragedies of the handcart companies and
the Dan Jones wagon train, most notably the William
B. Hodgetts and John A. Hunt companies, became part
of church history. James and his family were part of
the Hunt company. He had started the journey with
two wagons, five yoke of oxen, one cow, and two loose
cattle. They were also well armed. Before their
journey ended they lost much of this and shared much
of what was left with others. Despite the trials and
tragedies, by December 15, 1856, the last of the saints
who began that journey, arrived in Salt Lake City.

In the meantime, at a meeting of church leaders held
on the 6th of August, George was asked to establish a
branch and preside over it until the following summer.
While doing this, he and Elizabeth were preparing for
their journey to the Salt Lake Valley in 1857. Often
the difference between survival and tragedy was in
being well equiped. George had purchased a sturdy
wagon and began looking for draft animals to pull it.

He must have known through his researching of the
records of previous wagon trains, that 80% of the
wagons crossing the plains in pioneer trains, those
to the gold fields, or to establish settlements, were
pulled by oxen. Oxen were stronger, calmer and more
adaptable than the much more expensive horse.
Unlike oxen, horses did not thrive on the dried grasses
of the plains and often refused to drink the tepid, dirty
water that was available to them along the way.
Another option was the mule. They were less ex-
pensive than a horse. They were durable and tough
and adapted better to the grasses and water of the
plains than the horses. However, their temperament
was often driven to mayhem which could cause
trouble in a wagon train.

George purchased a fine team of oxen which he named
Brock and Bawly. Oxen always worked as a team of
two, called a "yoke of oxen". A yoke is a wooden beam
which is used between a pair of oxen to allow them to
pull a load. They were not always driven from the seat
of a wagon. A person, referred to as a teamster or
drover, walked on the left side of the team and directed
them with verbal commands and whip cracks. The
care of the oxen's feet was different than that of the
mule or horse. They didn't wear the traditional shoe.
If their feet got sore, they were smeared with butter
or axle grease, and then boots made of buffalo hide or
other animal skin, were fastened on. Being a coal
miner, these were just some of the many things George
had to learn.

George was released from the presidency of the Iowa
City branch on March 25, 1857 and was immediately
assigned by Erastus Snow, James A. Little, and
William C. Hunt to help in emigrating. He left almost
immediately for Lexington, Kentucky to buy cattle
and other frontier provisions for the immigration.
He was gone from his family for nine weeks during
which time he was preaching, purchasing and
preparing.

Returning home, George, Elizabeth and little Nephi,
left Iowa City on July 1, 1857, for Florence,
Nebraska, where they joined a wagon train of 19
wagons, 55 souls, 83 oxen, four cows, and one mule.
William C. Young was appointed Captain and on
July 12, the Young Company left Florence to begin
their trek across the plains.

It was a much easier journey than that of James,
Elizabeth, Mary, her new husband Thomas Smith,
and little James, but never-the-less was fraught
with danger and tragedy; run away wagons, the
danger of Indians, torrential rains, swollen rivers,
swarms of mosquitos, and the loss of life.

George's oxen, Brock and Bawly, became well known
for their strength, stamina, and intelligence. One
day the the company came to one of the many
rivers they had to cross, but because of the most
recent severe storm, this river was swollen with
rushing water much higher than usual and the
animals balked at having to cross. But Brock and
Bawly went through. After taking the Wadsworth
wagon across, they were unhitched, taken back
across, hooked up to the next wagon and commanded
to pull. After taking that wagon across, they would
plunge into the water and return without being
driven, to be hitched to another and take it across.
They performed this service twelve times.

The Young Company reached Salt Lake City on
September 26, 1857. Brock and Bawly had safely
taken the Wadsworth family across the plains to
Salt Lake City. They stayed there for four weeks
before moving to Little South Cottonwood, near
Salt Lake City. At that time, President Brigham
Young asked George to donate Brock and Bawly
to the church for the use of future immigrating
companies. Though he loved them very much
and they were the only draft animals he had at
the time, he unhesitatingly did this. I do not
know exactly how many trips they made back
and forth across the plains but have always been
told that it was a substantial number.

The Wadsworth brothers in Panaca, my father
James, Uncle Frank, and Uncle Lafe, shared the
draft horses that were used for the heavy work
on their farms and ranches. Shortly after dad
returned from France when World War I ended,
he wanted to have his own team of draft horses.
He went to Alamo, 76 miles from Panaca, where
retired Artillery horses were being pastured and
purchased a team of bay horses. He named them
Brock and Bawly after his grandfather's oxen. He
had a great love and respect for the Artillery
horses. During the war, he was stationed in France
as a member of the Ammunition Trains, a part of
the Artillery of the 91st Division. His job was to get
the supplies that were needed to the front lines.
The artillery horses Dad loved pulled the wagons
carrying these supplies and also the huge guns. He
would be a natural candidate for this job because as
a young man, he had driven freight wagons and was
well trained in driving a six or eight team hitch of
draft horses.

I called Leo to ask what he knew of Dad's wonderful
team, Brock and Bawly. Among the information he
shared with me was this: In Pioneer days, if an
animal, horse or bovine, had speckles on their face,
they were referred to as a brock, and if they had a
white blaze on their face, they were called a bawly.
Dad's horses were marked that way and we presume
that George's oxen were, as well. These horses were
Dad's sole draft animals for many years and served
him well. Like George's oxen, they also served his
extended family and friends.

Brock and Bawly, the oxen, and Brock and Bawly, the
horses, make this story an even more personal one for
our family. It is tradition, and traditions tie a family
together with love and continuity. Put an animal in
a story and it is even better. I am grateful to parents
who established traditions, who told us stories, who
kept the written word, and who wanted us to know,
love, and appreciate, our ancestors. I consider it a
privelege and a blessing to write these stories for
my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.

Information for this story is taken from the books,
Pilley to Panaca, A Century in Meadow Valley, from
the history of my father, James Allen Wadsworth, my
own research, and stories told by our parents to me and
my siblings.