"Growing Up Ina"

Love Is In The Air, Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .I'm A Working Girl. . . .#11

2012-02-09T03:19:00.000-08:00

I was sad when George left to return to San Diego after our first
weekend together in our new home. I was happy, though, to know
that I would be very busy and the week until he came home again
would pass quickly. Even though he and I had done much to get
settled in and make our little apartment warm and cozy with
pictures, decorations, and other personal items, there was still
much I could do to make it our own.

I had a quilt Mother had made us and one from families in the
Panaca Ward. Both of them could be used as bedspreads and
would be beautiful. Lee and I had fun shopping for curtains and
some decorative throw pillows that would match the quilts. We
also found curtains for the living room and kitchen and a bright,
colorful shower curtain for the bathroom. I wanted to surprise
George when he came home.

I walked the neighborhood to get familiar with it. I checked out
the little combination grocery and hardware store near us and
found a post office within walking distance from our apartment.
I was a little disturbed to see that even though our apartment was
nice and the complex was well kept, the neighborhood seemed a
little rough. There was a large population of Hispanic and Oriental
people in the area and there were stories of gang activity between
them and rival Caucasian youth. When I walked alone, I was often
nervous as I observed them loitering around. I determined not
to let this bother me as I had met some nice people in our complex,
and Jack and Lee were near.

Each morning, I purchased several newspapers so I could search
for job opportunities. I found very few. With the Korean war
going on and so many military families in the area, there were
more people searching for work than jobs were available. I was
limited with no car, to only be able to look for available positions
within a radius that I could walk or use the public bus system.

It was very discouraging. If possible, I wanted to find a job that
would use my secretarial skills, and for one so young, my resume
was good. However, there were older, more experienced women
wanting the positions that were available. I had applied at two
businesses where I was told I would be placed on a waiting list to
be called when something became available.

In the meantime, we enjoyed our weekends together. George
worked for Jack installing carpet on many of the Saturdays. This
gave us a little extra money which helped us do some of the things
we wanted, and needed, to do. Even though he was working, we
still seemed to find time to explore our surroundings. We rode a
bus to the beach. We found a lovely park nearby where we could
stroll and eat a picnic lunch. We were invited to Sunday dinner
at Jack and Lee's and got to know Lee's family, the Shinpaughs.
They accepted us as part of the family and Mom and Dad
Shinpaugh became like foster mom and dad to us. They were
sweet, kind people. Dad Shinpaugh and Lee's brother Coy,
worked for Jack and George soon became good friends with them.

Sunday dinners were a family tradition with the Shinpaugh family
and most Sundays would find us eating dinner at Jack and Lee's, Coy
and Barbara's, or one of Lee's sister's homes. Her sisters, Elsie Mae,
Vonna, and Mary, all lived nearby. Mary and her husband Bob,
were mine and George's age.

George and I decided that I would have to start looking for a job
at one of the fast food restaurants near us. We were not happy
about this, but I needed a job. There was also a cafeteria near one
of the housing complexes and business malls that catered to the
civilian government population that were associated with the
military. So, with that in mind, I applied for the necessary food
handling card from the Health Department and had the necessary
tests for tuberculosis and hepatitis and was immunized for
hepatitis.

I was hired at the cafeteria but several days before I was to start
work, I was called by one of the businesses who had placed me
on a call back list. The business was Cal-Gems, Inc. They were a
clothing factory that made women's clothing. They were located
on Westminster Blvd, which was a straight shot easy bus ride for
me. When I went for another interview, they told me there were
two openings which would be available upon deployment of the
women's service husbands. They could not tell me exactly when
this would take place but said they had liked my resume and the
personal information I had provided them. They asked me if I
would be willing to take a job on the production lines in the
factory until one of these openings became available.

I was overwhelmed at the prospect of this. The production floors
in the factory seemed to me to be hubs of noise, confusion, and
"over the top" activity. I would be assigned a locker and issued
a kit containing a pair of scissors, pins, needles, gloves, ruler,
tape measure, marking tape and pencils. I would start at the
tables where the patterns were placed on the materials, pinned,
and cut. At this time, I was told that my "scissors" were my
number one priority. I would only be issued one pair. If I
damaged or lost, them, I was out of a job. Just like that, no
excuses, no arguments, lost or damaged scissors, no job!

It was a frightening position for me. Most of the workers on
the factory floor were Hispanic or Oriental. They had been
doing this work for long periods of time. It was hard for me to
wrap my mind around the concept that I was a factory worker,
these women were good at their job. They were self confident,
fast, and efficient. For the most part, they were kind, friendly,
and helpful. Few of us were Caucasian. I think many of them
felt sorry for me. I did not speak either language and knew
just a few high school Spanish words and phrases. They talked
so fast in their native languages that my head spun. I was sure I
could not do this, but I wanted that secretarial job when it
became available.

It was not long before they advanced me from the cutting
tables to the sewing machine. Now, this was scary, indeed!
The never ending noise from the busy sewing machines
never let up. It was an assembly line scene. I started doing
straight seams. That, I could handle. It was challenging,
however. We had a quota and were expected to complete our
required number of pieces each hour. It became more difficult
as I advanced. Each was a challenge for me; facings, darts, and
plackets. It was piece work and we were paid accordingly. If
we made a mistake, it didn't count as a completed piece. At the
end of each pay period, we received a detailed sheet which
showed completed pieces, minus our messed up ones.

I was scared to death when I realized that I would soon be
advanced to my worst nightmare; pockets, pleats, and zippers.
I had realized that even though I was a temporary floor worker,
being held in reserve by general management, the supervisors
on the floor would not be cutting me any slack. Was I a
nervous wreck? You bet! I lived in anticipation of hearing the
closing bell ring each afternoon. When it rang, we had twenty
minutes to finish the piece we were on, remove the thread and
bobbin from the machine, brush the lint from it, give it a
squirt of oil, and tidy up our area. And then, the sweetest music
that was heaven to my ears, the ding ding ding of workers
punching out.

I prayed fervently each night that a job opening would happen
before I had to face the "Grim Zipper", and it did! I was called
into the main office and told that an opening was available and
they hoped I would accept it. I would be taking some dictation,
transcribing, typing, and simple bookkeeping, consisting of
entering the days debits and credits into a ledger. My main
responsibility would be to prepare the daily bank deposit. For
several weeks, I was trained and always prepared it with my
immediate boss and another worker. We always worked as a
pair. It was top security, and it was scary. We had to be bonded.
After the other employees left, our purses, lunch boxes, and all
personal items were taken from us before we were locked into a
tiny office. We could not leave on our own. After the days receipts
were counted and the deposit slip completed, we entered a code,
a different one each day for security purposes. This rang a bell,
which brought a manager, who unlocked the door. After the
manager checked everything, a Brinks truck picked up the
deposit. We were then given our purse and personal items and
cleared to go home. I enjoyed this job very much and my salary
of $2.50 an hour was certainly better than being paid by the
piece with my speed on the sewing machine.

This sounds a bit "other worldly and clandestine", but it soon
became ordinary to me. Most importantly, I was off the floor
and away from the noise and chaos I associated with it. I did
realize, however, that it was not really chaotic, but was very
disciplined, smooth running, and efficient.

In retrospect, you would have thought that I would become an
expert seamstress and would love to sew. Neither happened. I
was never more than mediocre at this, and even though I did sew
for my children when they were small, I never really enjoyed it.
I had a feeling of sastisfaction, however, as I realized I had
braved the "refiner's fire", and I had survived. It also made for
some interesting story telling, especially the time I sewed my
finger to a seam. Bloody ouch!

And so, life moved on. I went home tired every day but with a
sense of accomplishment and anticipation as I looked forward
to the weekend when George would be home.

To Be Continued. . . .

Love Is In The Air. . . .Our First Home Together. . . .#10

2012-01-23T04:02:00.000-08:00

Our plan to have me return to California, was set in motion much
sooner than we had thought. I had only been home for a few days
when George's first letter arrived telling me what had happened the
Saturday we had left him at the main gate of the Naval Training
Center in San Diego.

When he reported, they told him to go to his assigned barracks
and wait for instructions. His company of 40 men were assembled
there. An officer arrived and told them they would have Sunday
to get packed and ready to receive their orders. George went to
church Sunday morning and spent the rest of the day getting
packed and ready to go wherever his orders sent him.

Monday morning they were rousted out of bed very early and told
to have their beds made, barracks clean, dressed and ready to go.
They were formed into four columns of ten men each, to be
marched to an assembly area where they would receive orders for
their deployment. Nerves were taut and anticipation was high.
As they were marched in formation through several turns, they
were halted in front of the Personnel Office building. The officer
yelled "Halt!" and when they did, another officer called out
George's name and told him to "Fall Out!". He handed him an
envelope, said "These are your orders", and as the rest of the
company marched off, he was told to go into the building. They
sent him to a desk where he turned in his papers and after the
officer read them, he was told, "You will be serving here and
will be assigned to the Security Division.

We were so very relieved and happy. The time George spent
working for the FBI in Washington D.C., and the national
security clearance he had, was keeping him in the states and
in San Diego.

George and Lee immediately started the search to find us an
apartment in Westminster. Hopefully, they wanted to find one
near Jack and Lee's home. Housing was very limited due to
the Korean War and the many service and government
families who were struggling to get settled in the area. It
was hard not to be discouraged. How excited I was when a
letter George had mailed on August 28th, arrived.

With butterflies in my stomach, I opened it and read:

Dearest Ina,

Only five more days to go. Boy, it hardly seems true. I can
hardly wait for them to pass. The thing above is a drawing of
the apartment. It is about as big as Jack's living room. It is
just the right size for us. It has a pull down bed and a couch
and easy chair. They aren't new, in fact they are a little old,
but they are still good. All they need is covering.

It is all done in plaster and tile in the kitchen and bathroom.
It has a shower and no tub. There is a big closet in the bath-
room. It really is a nice big bathroom. In the kitchen, there
is a gas ice box. It is small but just the right size for us. There
is a small 4 burner stove with a full oven. It is also gas. It
is a cute kitchen and there is plenty of room to put things.
That is all there is. It is really clean and has a tile floor and it
won't be hard to keep clean. They have a laundry in the
garage that you can use at any time.

So, you will need all of our bedding and kitchen utensils, every
thing you need to keep house. Oh yes, don't forget a cookbook,
I think you will need one. Ha, Ha! (cook book is underlined,
very funny George!)

Lee is going to have the lights and gas turned on so all you will
have to do is move in. Jack put down $20.00 to hold it, so
you better have $45.00 to pay on the rent and to pay him back.
I'll get $18.00 Thursday. Boy, won't I be rich?" (He had worked
for Jack the previous Saturday.)

Ina talking. . .David and I were going to pick him up in San Diego
on Friday he gave me directions on how to get there and where to
meet him.

He ended the letter thus:

"I have to run and mail this letter, so must quit, and this will be
my last letter to you. Sure do love you lots, Love George

You can tell that he was excited about us being together again,
as was I. It was a happy meeting in San Diego and what fun we
had moving into our very first home together.

It was a really cute studio apartment. It was very near to Jack
and Lee's home. There was a store within walking distance
where I could get most of the necessities I would need.

We were sad to tell David goodbye but were grateful to him for
all he did to help us.

In true David style, he bid us goodbye with these words of
wisdom, "Stay off of those crazy freeways and away from those
wild California drivers, and be careful not to breathe too much
of that Southern California air, it won't do you any good."

It was a short weekend for George and I, but we had a wonderful
time getting settled into our first home together. We put some
of our pictures and other personal items throughout the house.
By the time George left on Monday morning, it really did look
and feel, like a home.

I still had enough settling in to do to make the five days before
he could come home again, pass quickly.

I planned on going out early in the morning and get several
newspapers to see what kind of jobs, if any, were available.

And so, with a smile on my face and sweet dreams when I went to
bed, I looked forward, with joy, to another beautiful day. . . .

To Be Continued. . . .

David. . . .On California, Love, and Marriage. . . .

2012-01-23T03:19:00.000-08:00

David, being David and the big "tease" he was, had a great time
poking fun at us about California. He continued to do this
throughout his life, even as he and his family would visit us there
and have a wonderful time.

For our 5oth Wedding Anniversary celebrated at a Family Reunion
in Panaca, we received a beautiful book full of memories and
tributes from family and friends. David's is wonderful and evokes
precious memories of mine and George's marriage, our move to
California, and our first home together.

He wrote:

Dear George and Ina,

"Marriage resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they can't be
separated after moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing
anyone that comes between them.

Shortly after George and Ina were married, I helped them move to
Westminster, California. After unloading about half of the boxes, a
neighbor lady invited us in for a break. We were sitting around the
living room talking and a bobcat jumped up on my lap. Needless
to say, it startled me. The woman said it was just a "kitty cat". She
said she found it on her back doorstep before it's eyes were open.
She wouldn't believe me when I told her it was a wild cat. She said
it is "just a big beautiful kitty cat".

When I started to leave, I was thinking, "I hope Ina doesn't want me
to come and get her next week." Then, I had another thought, "Ina
must love this guy to come to live where people try to run over
you and your neighbors have wild cats for pets."

That was 50 years ago. Now I want to congratulate them on the
big 50th anniversary and to wish them many more wedding
anniversaries.

I want to thank Ina for being a very great sister and George for
taking care of my sister. Thanks to both of you for the good
times you gave to me when I came to Arizona with Martie. The
trip was one of the highlights of the last few years for me. Just.
try and be angry with someone who just fed you something
delicious.

Grandparent: Something so simple that a child can operate it.

Something for the ones that have had their 5oth: The quickest
way to get things done is to take your time. God didn't create
hurry."

God Bless You, Love, David

Thank you David. I love you.

Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet Love. . . .#9

2012-01-20T02:38:00.000-08:00

It seemed so different to be back home in Panaca knowing I was
now married and had left my husband in California. I missed him
and as I did not know when I would see him again, I was lonely.

I had asked Esther if I could delay coming back to work until the
blisters from the extensive sunburn I had received from our day
at the beach, were completely healed. She had someone working
for me on a temporary basis and told me to come back when the
burn was completely healed.

I used that time to look at all of our wedding gifts and catalog
them. Since I didn't know where we would be living and how
much room we would have, I was sorting them into categories of
items we would need, those I wanted to take if we had room, and
others that we would not need at this time. It was a fun task and
I was amazed and delighted at the variety of wonderful things we
received. Mom and I had so much fun doing this. Her advice on
what to take and what would not be necessary, really helped me.

I wrote George every day, but of course he could not write me
as often. I was so excited when I received my first letter. When
I looked at the envelope and saw that it was addressed to Mrs.
George Paul Wimsatt, Jr., it didn't seem real.

George didn't know yet what his assignment would be; would he
stay in San Diego, go someplace else stateside, or be deployed
to active duty. He was worried about me being alone in San
Diego not knowing anyone and not having a car. Finding us
housing with so many other service families looking, and
not knowing how long he would be there, would be a problem.
He thought the best thing for me would be to find a place for us
in Westminster where I would be near Jack and Lee.

Lee's brother had a very close friend who was a navy medic
stationed in San Diego. He had a car and commuted back and
forth. It was a long drive, which could be very lonely and
tiring, and he was happy to invite George to ride with him.

It wasn't the ideal situation, but it was the answer for us. They
would come home on Friday and go back very early Monday
morning. On George's duty weekends, he would not be able to
come home and so we were looking at some two week stretches
where we would not be together. I was not looking forward to
that, but if I was able to find a job, I would be busy during the
day and it would just be the nights that would be lonely.

Our plan was thus; George would go to Westminster on his
duty free weekends and stay with Jack and Lee. He and Lee
would look for an apartment for us and he could earn a few
extra dollars working with Jack on Saturdays.

Jack's business was installing carpet, tile, and other floor
covering. He contracted with Sears and Roebuck stores
in the area. His and George's father, George, and uncles
Bert and Charles, had also had a floor covering business
and contracts with Sears stores in the Los Angeles area.

I discussed this with Esther. She said she would start the
process to hire someone to replace me and I could train
her. In the meantime, I would be getting my personal
things ready and the household items from our gifts that
I would be taking to California. My brother David could
not fathom why me, or anyone else, would want to live
in California. He said, "Ina, that's a crazy place to live
and anyone who lives there, is nuts!" Even so, he said that
he could understand why I would want to be with George,
and so "against my better judgement, I will move you!"
We put our plan into action and hoped it would come
together in jig time

And so, I watched for his letters, and with butterflies
in my stomach, I waited. . . .

To Be Continued. . . .

Memories Of My Mother, Lois Stewart Wadsworth. . . .

2011-10-21T06:02:00.000-07:00

Our honeymoon in California was the most exciting thing that
had ever happened to me. I had fantasized about California
for as long as I could remember. My mother had a dream to
see the ocean and walk along the beach with the waves gently
caressing her feet as they rolled into the shore. Even though
she had never seen it, she loved looking at pictures and reading
about it. She loved music about the ocean. She loved poetry
and I grew up reading poems she had written and listening
to her recite some of poetry's masterpieces. The Ancient
Mariner by Samuel Taylor Colridge and The Chambered
Nautilus by Oliver Wendell Holmes were two of her favorites.
They were long poems and I marveled that she could recite
them so perfectly. I was determined to memorize both of them
and as a teenager, I did memorize The Chambered Nautilus and
would recite it back to her.

Two of mother's brothers lived in California, Uncle Viv (Vivian
Henrie), lived in South Gate and then Fullerton, and Uncle Dade
(David Brinton), lived in Los Angeles. They both knew of her
love for the ocean and always brought gifts portraying it when
they visited her. She loved seashells and they brought them to
her. At one time, Uncle Dade gave her a nautilus shell. They
sent postcards of ocean scenes and pictures of them at the beach.
Mother didn't have the opportunity to visit them in California
until George and I lived there. By then Uncle Dade had moved
away and died much too young, at age 48. Mother never got
over his death as she had been such an important part of his life
as he was growing up.

The Lloyd Mathews family lived across the street from us in
Panaca. Their daughter, Beverly, was mine and Delores' play-
mate. Beverly's grandmother was Margaret Ann Wadsworth, a
cousin of my Grandfather, Nephi John. Beverly's first cousins
and my distant cousins, sisters from California, often visited them.
These girls lived near the beach in Los Angeles. They talked about
the ocean and playing on the beach. Their life sounded so exciting,
I found myself envying them.

My beloved Aunt Lizzie Edwards, Elizabeth Alice Wadsworth, a
sister to my grandfather, Nephi John, and her husband, William
Edwards, lived in Panaca. When they were a young married
couple, they lived in California. After returning to Panaca, they
often had family and friends from California as guests at their
home. One of those visitors was Darla Jean Hood. She was just
a few months younger than me. Aunt Lizzie always had Delores
and I come to her home when Darla was there. That was so
exciting. Darla was a gifted child actress. She played the role of
Darla, who was a member of the "gang" in the Our Gang and The
Little Rascal movies. So, as a little girl, I actually played with a
movie star from Hollywood, California. I don't remember if Darla
was Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Will's niece or granddaughter. I think
she was their granddaughter.

As a little girl and teenager, I often told my parents that when I
grew up I was going to live by the beach in California. I also
promised myself that when I did, I would walk the beach with my
mother and we would pick up seashells together as the waves
rolled into shore, and watch the sun set into the ocean. When we
are children, we dream of wonderful adventures and we make many
promises to ourselves. Some come true and some do not. These,
did, and I have stories I will tell about those special times.

A point of interest to this story; as an adult serving in the Young
Women and Relief Society organizations in various wards, I often
used the poem, "The Chambered Nautilus" in my lessons and
presentations.

The nautilus is a beautiful shell. It is composed of chambers. In
the beginning, it is an inch long and contains seven tiny chambers.
These chambers are filled with gas which gives it the buoyancy to
move through the ocean, even when storms rage and the waters
are troubled. As it grows, it will add new chambers to it's shell,
each larger than the last. The inside of the shell has a lining of
lustrous nacre and a nearly perfect spiral that always reaches
upward. It's journey through life is much like our life's journey
as we gain our physical and spiritual growth. The last stanza of
The Chambered Nautilus is beautiful. It was Mother's favorite
and is also mine. I want to share it with you:

Build thee more stately mansions, oh my soul,
as the swift seasons roll.

Leave thy low vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,

Shut thee from Heaven with a dome more vast,
till at length thou art free,

leaving thine outgrown shell by life's
unresting sea!

I was never fortunate enough to find a nautilus shell, but
Mom and I did walk the beach together and pick up many
beautiful shells of all kinds. Many times we just sat and
watched the waves crest and break as they rushed toward
the shore. Mother also loved to watch the sun set into the
vast expanse of water as the tide ebbed and the ocean birds
called out to each other as they settled for the night. These
memories are vivid and they are precious.

She also enjoyed exploring the beach and picking up seashells
with my children, Paul, Rhonda, and Craig when they were
little, just as I did, and then later as I experienced the wonder
of it with my grandchildren. I have stories to tell about that.

My mother was an amazing woman. She was the second child
in a family of seven children, five boys and two girls, with her
brother Karl being the eldest. She was born in Fredonia,
Arizona, on October 22, 1897. In 1901, when she was almost
four, her family moved to Alamo, Nevada. Her father, David,
and two of his brothers, Will and Tommy, had purchased part
of a ranch and other property in Alamo. This was an exciting
time for them, they were looking forward to expanding and
improving their lives.

Mom's parents, Lois Crosby and David Brinton Stewart, loved
their children and their home was filled with love and laughter.
She often told me how happy her early childhood was. Then,
when she was nine years old, tragedy struck. David's sister
Ethel, was moving to what later became known as the Henrie
ranch. It was located down the canyon from Caliente. Ethel
sent word to Grandpa David that she would like his help to
move. He worked hard to get her settled and by the time the
move was made, repairs to the house completed, and Ethel
settled in, it was nearing Christmas. He caught the stage to
Caliente. There was a heavy storm and since he was the only
passenger traveling on from there, the stage did not go all of
the way to Alamo but turned around in Hiko and returned to
Caliente. He looked for a way home, but with the storm and
Christmas near, there was no way available. He had promised
his family he would be home for Christmas, and so he walked
16 miles in the cold storm. He had asthma from the time he
was a boy and his lungs had been damaged. By the time he
arrived home, he had pneumonia. Even with careful nursing
and fervent prayer, his life could not be saved. He died on
Christmas Eve. He was only 39 years of age. His youngest
child, David Brinton, (Uncle Dade) was not yet six months old,
and Taylor Fay had just turned three. Fay's twin, Levi Ray
had died the previous year when he had just turned two.

Before Grandpa died, he called Karl to his bedside and talked
to him about what his responsibilities were going to be. The
duties and cares of a man were placed upon his shoulders. He
was only eleven years old but he willingly promised his father
that he could, and would, do this. At age seven, Vivian was old
enough to be of some help to Karl.

He then talked to Mom. He told her that her mother was going
to be very lonely and that she was going to need a lot of help with
the babies. Mom told us that she would never forget how she
felt when he once again told her to keep her mother company
and not let her be too lonely. She kept that promise to her father.
She and her mother, my Namie, were confidants and best friends
from that day until her mother died in 1936.

To support her children, Namie had to go to work and mom be-
came the housekeeper and little mother to her younger siblings.
Her only sister, Theresa, was too young to be of much help to
her as she was just five years old. When she wasn't in school,
Lois, a child herself, carried her baby brother David, around in
a sling she designed, while she cared for the other children, did
housework, cooked meals, and kept up with her homework.

I marvel when I contemplate upon this because the woman my
mother became was not a reflection of the hard life she had while
growing up. She had little chance for a formal education. There
was no high school in Alamo, the nearest was Lincoln County High
School in Panaca, 79 miles away. Loving school and having an
intense desire to learn, she obtained permission from school
officials to repeat the eighth grade. This proved to be a very good
thing as the new teacher for the eighth grade was James Allen
Wadsworth from Panaca. When she had only been in his class
for several weeks, she went home one day and told her mother,
"I am going to marry Mr. Wadsworth when I get older." Namie,
of course, told her she was being silly, but we know that statement
came true. James treated her with the utmost respect as her
teacher that year, but she captured his heart, and in 1917, when
she was twenty and he was thirty they were married. Even
though she had never been able to go to Panaca to high school, she
and Karl, with help from their Uncle Tommy Stewart, made sure
their younger siblings had the opportunity to do so.

What a remarkable woman Lois Stewart Wadsworth was. Despite
her lack of formal education, she was one of the most intelligent
woman I ever knew. She was kind and generous, funny and sassy.
Dad used to say she was a blithe spirit with her charming smile,
twinkling eyes, and merry laugh. She loved her seven children
with an unconditional love. She adored and supported her husband
wholeheartedly even though it often meant she was home alone with
their children and the responsibility of farm and ranch chores while
he was away on ranch duties or pursuing his responsibilities
as a Nevada State Senator.

She worked tirelessly from dawn to dusk (but, yes, she did get very
tired). She milked the cows, slopped the hogs, gathered eggs, and
forked hay to the horses and cattle. She could kill a chicken, pluck,
and cook it, for her family"s dinner. She could butcher a hog. She
planted and weeded in the garden and canned hundreds of jars of
fruits and vegetables each year.

She was famous for her cooking in Panaca, Lincoln County, and even
beyond those boundaries. Her pies, cakes, bread, cinnamon rolls and
donuts were the things of legend. People knew when her baking days
were and would "just happen" to drop by. They always left with some
baked goods. Her Halloween taffy pulls were a favorite tradition for
the children of Panaca.

She loved to pick up pine nuts. She knew exactly where to go to find
the most and the best. She harvested pounds of them each year.
Some of these pine nuts along with her suet pudding and lemon
sauce, fruit cake, homemade candies, pickles (especially mustard
pickle), jam, jelly, and peach melon preserve, always came to us for
the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.

She was a gifted seamstress and her daughters always had the most
beautiful clothes. She usually had a quilt on frames in the living room
and her patterns and quilting stitches were intricate and beautiful. I
grew up thinking that all little girls played and had their tea parties
under quilting frames. Her hand work, embroidery and crocheting,
were amazing. When her children were little and then when her
grandchildren began to arrive, she made dolls, doll clothes, stocking
monkeys, teddy bears, and other stuffed toys for them.

She was a faithful and active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter Day Saints. She served her sisters, and their families in the
gospel, as well as other residents of the county, tirelessly and un-
selfishly. She nursed the sick. She delivered babies with her mother
in the days when midwives were more often available than the over
worked doctors. She continued to do this after her mother died. She
lovingly prepared deceased women for burial, making them look
beautiful, and bringing comfort to their families.

She was a marvelous and talented story teller. She knew more poems
than most people read in a lifetime. My siblings and I grew up on her
stories and poems. Her grandchildren grew up listening to her stories
and poems, the same ones we loved; Little Orphan Annie, Little Boy
Blue, The Spider and the Fly, and Betty and The Bear. She made sure
her children loved to read and always had the best books available
to us. A good book was one of our favorite gifts.

Mother always had time for her grandchildren. In the summer, she
often had six to ten from out of town staying there, plus the seven
who lived in Panaca. Her house and yard looked like a camp for
boys and girls, and I guess that is what it was. She was the
perfect grandmother. They called her "Granny" and adored her.

She would stop whatever she was doing to play with them. She let
them eat donuts as fast as she could cook them. She patiently made
toast for milk toast for their "who can eat the most slices of milk
toast'" contests. She let them gather an egg for their breakfast, and
pick corn, tomatoes, and melons from the garden. Three things she
told them not to do, which they often did anyway, were not to climb
the fruit trees, pick her roses, or swing on the garden and front gates.
Even when they did those things, they were scolded with a twinkle
in her beautiful eyes.

She and my father instilled in their children a love for the Gospel of
The bible and The Book of Mormon. They taught us to love, honor,
and respect our parents, our siblings, our prophet and other church
leaders, the leaders of our nation, and as we married, our spouses.

They established family traditions and taught us to love them and
instilled within us a desire to see that we preserved them through the
years. They taught us to serve our fellow men, work hard. and pray
often.

I loved her so much. I admired and respected her. She was my best
friend. Is it any wonder that I wanted to give her a precious gift,
something she loved and desired? That I wanted to share our love for
the ocean. That I wanted to walk the beach with her and pick up sea
shells. That I wanted to sit with her and watch the sun set into the
ocean with all of it's glorious color, as the tide gently ebbed pulling
the water back into the sea. That I wanted her and I to share some
thing that was "our" special time together. That I wanted to see her
smile and hear her merry laugh. That I wanted to laugh as she oohed
and aahed when she found that "perfect" seashell. She was like a child
on Christmas morning as we shared these experiences and I was so
happy and excited that I was able to make it possible for her.

Mother, your little great great grandson, Brexton , Rhonda's grandson
and Brinton's son, shares your birthday of October 22nd. Today, as
we celebrate his 6th birthday, I will laugh at his joy and enthusiasm,
I will remember yours, and I will laugh again. I know you will be
laughing, too.

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for all you did for me. Thank you
for sharing some of my happiest and most exciting adventures. I can't
wait to see you again. What fun we will have!

Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you. I am blessed and honored to call
you "Mother".

Pictures From Our Honeymoon. . . .

2011-10-16T09:01:00.000-07:00

It's that 50's look. Ginger Rogers bangs and 50's skirt.

George's cute sister, Margaret.

At Margaret's in Las Vegas.

Barbeque with all of the trimmings.
Welcome to California, I.na

We enjoyed the barbeque Jack and Lee had to welcome us to

California. George's handsome little brother Art was there, as
were Lee's sister and brother and their spouses..

What a wild shirt I bought George!
He's wearing it cause he loves me!

Smile, you're on Candid Camera!

Peek-A-Boo!

So happy! Wearing one of my favorite dresses.

Oops! This picture was posted out of order, but isn't he cute!
I love the way he looks in his dress blues.

Hey, this was taken before our famous "burn".
We did have some sun afterall, see the shadow.

Training to be a "sailor boy" sculpted George, he's looking good!

Jack and Lee in front of their house

Can you figure out what George is doing?

This picture is a repeat - same dress.

Jackie and Lloyd - Cute!

On the way to San Diego. How I love the ocean.

To have George looking "spiffy", before he enters The Training Center,
his big brother gives him a final "brush off". Now it's time for me to

say goodbye. Do I really have to?

These pictures have survived for 60 plus years, several moves and a flood.

Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .#8

2011-10-15T04:55:00.000-07:00

Our wedding day was over. It was a beautiful wedding. Our reception
was over. It was a wonderful reception. Since we didn't have a car
and our money was limited, we had decided we would start our honey
moon in Las Vegas. We could ride to Vegas with Margaret, spend
three days there and then take the train to Los Angeles. Since I had
this love affair with California, George being stationed in San Diego
was the fullfillment of a dream I had always had; which was to go
there on my honeymoon. We would have five days before George had
to report back to the Naval Training Center in San Diego. I would take
the train from there to Caliente where someone would be waiting to
take me home to Panaca.

My parents, with help from my siblings, were packing our gifts to take
to their home. Amid a frenzy of hugs, slaps on the back, good luck
and have fun wishes, we left to change our clothes and pick up our
travel bags. We had kept the location of Margaret's car a secret to
avoid the "Shivaree" mischief (shivaree - a clamorous salutation made
to a newywed couple), so David and Gino's cars had been decorated
with the traditional tin cans and balloons. They followed us as we left
to change our clothes and then followed us out of town with tin cans
clattering, balloons popping, horns honking, and people whistling and
shouting.

For days, I had been asking George where we would be staying in Las
Vegas. He kept telling me that it was a surprise. No matter how much
I pleaded, he wouldn't tell me. I was exhausted from our activities
and little sleep. Before the three and a half hour trip to Vegas was
over, I was asleep. I was awakened to George saying, "Ina, wake up,
we are here." Imagine my surprise and giddy happiness, when I
opened my eyes and saw that we were at the main entrance to the
El Cortez Hotel! A bellhop met us and ushered us into the lobby
with it's beautiful marble floors, paneled walls, elegant draperies,
plush furniture, and walls covered with autographed pictures.

George checked us in as Mr. and Mrs. George P. Wimsatt. They gave
him a key and escorted us to the elevator for the Tower. After riding
up several stories, we stepped out into the hallway, walked down it as
registered guests, and used "our own key" to open a door and enter a
beautiful suite. I couldn't believe it! It was deja vu and a 15 year old
girl's promise to herself had come true!

The next morning, we strolled through the lobby, and even though
Bugsy was no longer there and the Rat Pack had followed him to the
Flamingo, their presence was still evident in the pictures lining the
walls. Throughout the day, we leisurely looked at all of the pictures,
browsed the gift shop and had a cold drink by the beautiful pool
We then took the pedestrian walkway to Freemont Street. The
walkway was just as I remembered it and Vegas Vic was still there
waving us welcome. Best of all, when we returned to the El Cortez to
have dinner, we didn't have to eat at the Grill, but were seated in the
main dining room where we enjoyed their famous smorgasbord with
an array of desserts to dazzle a new bride and groom.

Our time at the El Cortez was over all too soon. We spent a day with
Margaret's family. She cooked us a delicious dinner and took us to
the station where we boarded a train. "California, here we come!"

George's brother Jack and his wife Lee, met us at the train. When we
arrived at their home in Westminstere, they had a room ready for us.
It was an add on and so was our own private space for as long as we
would be staying there. They had a swimmiung pool and game room
with a pool table and other games. They had planned a barbeque
dinner and swim party to welcome us to California. George's younger
brother, Art, was living with them for the summer and working for
him until school started. All of Lee's family lived in the area. Her
youngest sister Mary, was George's age. She also had sisters Elsie
Mae and Vonna, and brother, Coy. All of them were maried. Her
parents, Mom and Dad Shinpaugh, were wonderful and as our parents
and siblings, except for Jack, did not live in California, this family
became our family in the years to come. We felt loved and this
evening was a wonderful introduction to California.

Jack made a car available to us. Of course, the first thing I wanted to
do was to see the ocean and play on the beach, but the weather was
typical May beach weather in Southern California. It was overcast.
foggy, drizzly and chilly at the beach. We decided to do some of the
other things we had planned and see if the weather would be a little
more agreeable later.

I wanted to visit a zoo and Lee suggested the Los Angeles Zoo and
Botanical Gardens located in beautiful Griffith Park. We enjoyed our
day there. I couldn't have hoped for a more exciting one. Griffith
Park and the Botanical Gardens were beautiful. The foliage was
green and lush and so very different from Nevada. I loved the zoo.
The only other zoo I had been to was the Hoagle Zoo in Salt Lake City.
That zoo began my love with zoos and my fascination of animals from
around the world. I knew that I would be living in San Diego while
George was stationed there and so have the opportunity to visit the
world famous San Diego Zoo. I could hardly wait.

We had planned a day at Knott's Berry Farm. The weather had not
improved, so we decided to go there the next day instead of the
beach. I had heard a lot about Knott's Berry farm and I was not
disappointed. We browsed their quaint shops. While walking, we
treated ourselves to one of their signature "Olalie Berry Ice Cream
Sundaes". We rode the Log Ride through a mock rushing river and
laughed at the end when we were splashed. My favorite show was the
"bank holdup" on Main Street. The sheriff and his deputies engaged
in a gun battle with the outlaws and when it was over, several outlaws
were sprawled out on the street dead, and others were hauled off to
jail. In the evening, we ate dinner at their famous Chicken Restaurant
and stopped by the Chocolate Shop to choose something for dessert.
We had a wonderful day and returned to Jack and Lee's home tired
and happy.

Our time was almost over and we knew that regardless of the weather,
if we were going to have our day at the beach, it had to be tomorrow.
When we awoke in the morning, it still looked like our beach day
would be overcast. but sun or no sun, I was so excited, I could hardly
wait. We had chosen to go to Huntington Beach and since Art knew
the way way there and where to park, Jack gave him the day off
from work so he could go with us.

This excursion was to set the tone for the rest of our honeymoon.

Lee had packed us a delicious lunch, we had some drinks in a small ice
chest. and on a grey overcast day, we set out for my very first visit to
see the ocean and play on the beach. George had not been to the
beach since he was very young and this being my first time, innocents
that we were, we didn't realize you could burn as bad on an overcast
day as on a day when the sun was shining. We played in the water for
hours, and walked the beach picking up sea shells. We ate our lunch
and then lay on our towels for a little nap. We had no shade, but hey,
we had used sun screen and there was no sun, so no problem, right?

I don't know how long we slept, but when we awoke, the day was gone.
It was one of the happiest and most exciting days of my life, but by
the time we got home, I was a very sick girl. I had severe sunburn
over all of the exposed parts of my body, especially my back, chest,
and thighs. Since they had been exposed to the California sun during
the summer, George and Art were not burned as severely as I was. I
was light headed, dizzy, nauseous, and throwing up. Lee wanted to
take me to the emergency room at a near by hospital, but I refused to
go. I said that if I could just lie down for awhile and have something
cool to drink, I would be fine. It was a long, painful night and the next
day, I was covered in silver dollar size blisters. Still, I refused to go to
the hospital. Lee called her doctor and he told her of a salve she could
get at the pharmacy. He cautioned her that since I would be traveling,
to be careful not to break the blisters when applying it.

I couldn't stand anything to touch the burned areas and so lay with no
clothes and just a sheet covering me for three nights and two days,
then it was time for George to report back to the Training Center and
me to go home to Panaca. I was feeling a little better, The red had
faded a bit and the pain was not as bad, but the blisters were still
there. I was wondering if we should have opened and drained them.
Regardless, I had to get ready to go. I had a white satin blouse with
long billowy sleeves that mom had made for me. It looked great with
the pant suit I had chosen to wear on the train. The sleeves would
cover the blisters on my arms and were so full I thought there would
be no problem with irritation. Jack and Lee drove us to San Diego and
even though I was still miserable, it was a nice drive. We drove along
the coast, stopping twice at beautiful scenic overlooks where we had a
panoramic view of the ocean. Since George was a "Sailor Boy", I was
fascinated by all of the naval ships we saw along the way and George
loved identifying them to me and telling me the duties of each one. I
thought he was so smart. We stopped in Oceanside for a leisurely
lunch of seafood. If I remember correctly, I had clam chowder and
fish and chips.

All too soon, we were at the main entrance to The Naval Training
Center where George and I would say goodbye. We had only been
married for eight days. and as I kissed my husband goodbye, I
listened with a mixture of happiness, sadness, and anticipation to
his promise to find a place for us to live in San Diego as soon as he
knew if he was going to stay stateside or be sent to Korea. It was a
bittersweet parting but I was still filled with the joy and excitement
of our wedding and reception, a honeymoon at the El Cortez Hotel
in Las Vegas and our glorious California adventure.

Jack and Lee dropped me at the train station. I had a two hour wait
for my train. Not feeling well, I couldn't enjoy the sights and sounds
of the trains rushing in and out of the depot as I always had from the
time I was a little girl. It was a long miserable ride through the night
and I was so happy when we pulled into the Caliente Station in the
wee hours of the morning. Mother was there to pick me up. She
could see that I was sick, but she was horrified when we arrived home
and she literally had to soak my beautiful blouse from my body. Many
of the blisters had burst during the long ride and my clothes were
stuck to my skin. I was so relieved to be home with my mother and to
let her gentle, soothing care heal my body and soul..

I wasn't able to go back to work for a week, but Esther understood.
As the blisters healed, I had time to relax and relive all of the exciting
sights and sounds of our wedding, reception, and honeymoon.

But, how many days would I have to wait for a letter from George?
With butterflies in my stomach, I waited. . . .

To Be Continued. . . .

You'll Find Your Share Of Memories There. . . .

2011-09-26T09:33:00.000-07:00

Vegas Vic waiting to welcome us to Las Vegas.
"Howdy, You All, come right in!"

Lincoln County Lynx - Center, George Wimsatt

Got to get this snap right before the game in Las Vegas.

Ina Wadsworth, Ruby Lee, Wanda Nielson "Cruising" Freemont St.

Probably heading off to the El Cortez.

The El Cortez Hotel and Casino of the 1940s and 1950s
Rat Pack Members, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., Frank Sinatra

Peek-A-B00!

A suite at the El Cortez in the 1950s

When I was a teenager in the 1940s, a very popular radio program
was "Your Hit Parade". It was broadcast each Saturday evening
and offered the most popular and best selling songs of the week. In
the beginning, it offered the top 15 songs. Later, a new and more
exciting format offered a countdown to the top three songs, with the
number one song announced with much fanfare, for the grand
finale.

The title of this story comes from a song written by Johnny Mercer
in 1944 and recorded by Frank Sinatra, the swoon master of all the
giddy "bobby sox" crowd . It was a "Your Hit Parade" winner in 1945,
and one of my favorites. It was titled, "Dream (When You're Feeling
Blue)". The chorus of the song was fitting for me, a high school
freshman.

So, dream when the day is through;
Dream, and they might come true.
Things never are as bad as they seem.
So dream, dream, dream.

When I was in high school, some of my most exciting times were the
trips the students took to Las Vegas. The different student body
clubs had trips affiliated with their studies. The Pep Club had
several trips each year. Even though Las Vegas High School was
much larger than Lincoln County High School, they competed in the
same league in boys sports. The Pep Club usually had a trip to Las
Vegas for a football game and a basketball game. If we made the
league or district playoffs, which we often did, we would have
another trip.

They kept the girls separated from the boys on these trips and the
ball teams were also separated from the other boys. The athletes
and coaches always stayed at the Wittwer Motel in North Las Vegas
and the girls stayed at the Sal Sagev Hotel in downtown Las Vegas.
I guess they figured all the distance and no cars, there would be no
breaking curfew or getting into mischief. I can honestly say that it
did not always work the way they intended it to.

As we were not allowed to go onto the Strip, or any establishment
except those on Freemont St. and Las Vegas Blvd., the Sal Sagev
was the perfect place to stay. It is located at One Freemont St.
and is the smallest and oldest hotel on the street. It opened in
1906 as the Hotel Nevada, and in 1931 became the Sal Sagev (Las
Vegas spelled backwards). In had one more change in 1950 when
it became the Golden Gate Hotel, home to the famous $.50 shrimp
cocktail, (but that is a story for another time.)

One of the girls favorite destinations was the El Cortex Hotel and
Casino. It had a lot of glamour, and a bit of notoriety, attached to it.
It was owned by mobster/gangster Bugsy Siegel. It had opened in
1941 and was considered the finest such establishment in downtown
Las Vegas. Bugsy bought it in 1945 when he migrated to Las Vegas
from California when authorities shut down California's gambling
operations. He ruled his little kingdom with a flamboyance new to the
downtown area, throughout 1945 and 1946. In late December of
1946, he sold it to open the Flamingo on the Strip. While he was at
the El Cortez, you could usually find all, or part of, Hollywood's
"Rat Pack" there, either as entertainers or as Bugsy's honored guests.
The Rat Pack consisted of Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr, Dean
Martin, Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford. It had long been written
about the Rat Pack's ties to the gangster scene, especially Frank and
Dean, and they were close personal friends of Bugsy. Now, to a girl
in her teens from the tiny little town of Panaca, Nevada, that was
heady stuff, for sure! At that time, ole "Blue Eyes", as Frank was
called, was the crooner who was making all of the girls hearts flutter,
and the rest of the Rat Pack shouted "Hollywood Entertainer"!

Cruising Freemont St. several times a day was mind boggling to me.
I loved the noise, the millions of lights, the people thronging the
streets, rushing from one establishment to the next, intent on
their individual missions and often not paying attention to who they
were bumping into or knocking for a loop. I was enthralled with the
famous "Vegas Vic" neon sign, a 40 foot tall cowboy wearing a big
stetson and boots, with a cigarette in his mouth, forever waving
his arm and welcoming us to Las Vegas and Freemont St.

The El Cortez is located at 6th Ave. and Freemont St., one block off
Las Vegas Blvd. To make it even more exciting and mysterious,
as we walked Freemont St., we could reach it by taking the pedes-
trian walkway to the hotel's main entrance. The walkway was a
marvel. It was 1,500 feet long with a 90 foot high overhead canopy
with thousands of small blinking lights. It connected several hotels
along Freemont St. from Las Vegas Blvd. to Main St.

When you stepped from the walkway into the main entrance of the
hotel, you stepped into glamour, beautiful marble floors, paneled
walls, elegant draperies, plush furniture, and walls lined with
autographed pictures of Hollywood celebrities, sports celebrities,
political greats, and scenes from Broadway and Las Vegas shows,
and Bugsy reigning supreme with the headliners of the day. Of
course, we were not allowed to go into the casino, but we would
often catch a celebrity walking in the lobby, and it could be one of
the Rat Pack. Bugsy was often seen walking around with the ever
present cigar in his mouth, very much the genial host. Just
knowing who he was, and what he did, made us giggle, even as we
shivered if he looked our way.

We couldn't afford to eat in their main dining rooms, but could go to
the coffee shop, or get a hamburger, hot dog, or ribs, at The Grill.

Bugsy had added the Tower behind the original hotel and casino to
jazz it up and add more rooms. One of the sneaky things we loved
to do was to ride the Tower's elevator, getting off at each floor to
walk the hallways, hoping to be able to look into a room as a maid
was cleaning, or a guest was entering or exiting. The rooms looked
so glamorous and opulent.

It was at that time that I made myself a promise that I would one
day stay at the El Cortez Hotel. I wanted to walk those hallways
as a guest and use my key to enter one of those beautiful suites.
I wanted to partake of the famous El Cortez smorgasbord in the
huge dining room and browse the gift shops. It seemed a pretty
lofty goal for a teenager from Panaca.

Did I achieve that goal, realize that dream? To find out, you will

need to read my next story.

Families Are Forever. . . .

2011-09-21T08:41:00.000-07:00

The Nephi John and Eliza Jane Terry Wadsworth home in Panaca.
James Allen Wadsworth, my father, lived in it while he was growing
up and later with his wife and family. I lived in it from the age of 2
until I was 11 or 12.

It is now the home of James Leo and Kathleen Vickers Wadsworth.

From the book - George Allen Wadsworth - Pilley to Panaca
September 10, 1896, "The new brick dwelling of N. J. Wadsworth
was nearing completion. When finished it would be the finest
residence in the county".

The new house was a big two-story home built by Albert Miller
of St. George. The home was eagerly looked forward to, for the
family included ten members and another was expected. After the
Wadsworth family moved into the house, it became known as the
"Castle", a name it is still affectionately called 115 years later.

I received a beautiful letter from my brother Leo yesterday. As
I was reading it again this morning, I was thinking about my
parents and my siblings. Of my two brothers and four sisters, only
Leo, and Delores are still living. Of George's three brothers and
three sisters, he is the only one still living. Both George and I were
the second youngest in our family.

Our mortal life is fragile. It is really but a moment in the eternities
to come. I grew up in a home with wonderful parents. They loved
me and my siblings unconditionally. They raised us to be good,
moral, people. We grew up with a deep and abiding love for our
parents and our siblings. We honored our parents and their desire
for us to love and respect our siblings and treasure our family ties.

Our parents set the standard with us to do all we could to preserve
family ties, the ties that bind us together eternally. We worked hard
to do this after our parents died. We carried on family traditions,
continuing to publish the James Wadsworth Tribal Gazette newsletter
and hold our Family Reunions. We have worked hard to instill within
our children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, the importance
of our extended family. My generation will soon be gone and it will be
their responsibility to make sure their progeny continue what we
have worked so hard to preserve.

Leo, is now 90 years old, Kathy is 88, George and I are 80, and Pete
and Delores are 78. As patriarch of our family,Leo is the last source
of much of our family history and personal stories. Yes, Delores and I
know some of the stories but we are so much younger than Leo, there
are many that we have not heard.

As I share my personal history on my blog, I am writing stories about
my grandparents, parents, and siblings. These are stories my parents
aunts, uncles, and older siblings have told me, and also from reading
their personal histories, doing genealogy research and reading
published books about my ancestors.

Many of the stories I share have come from Leo. He has been so
wonderful about sharing them with me. Frequently, I receive a letter
from him with a beautiful and touching story. Such is so with the
letter I received from him yesterday. It has a story about Dad and is
also filled with his thoughts and reminiscences about his siblings. I
thought I would share it with you.

Sept 11, 2011
Panaca, Nevada

My very dear Ina and well loved, George,

Have been meaning to write for weeks, but never got around to it
because I convinced myself I'm too busy.

You will have to put up with my scrawl because I'm out of tape on
my 20 year old typewriter. I have several new ones someplace in
this house but I don't feel like looking.

If I didn't love this old house so much, I'd get out of it and go to a
lower altitude where both Kate and I feel better.

It may or may not be, but I often feel a presence in this house. Quite
often Grandma, and occasionally, Granddad. I woke up this A.M. with
the feeling Dad had been here in the night. Over and over in my mind
this A.M. I hear "Oh, the roses are blooming in Picardy", along with
'The End of a Perfect Day". Another favorite song of Dad's, "Lilac Time"
and memories of France are so closely associated with Dad in my mind.

Dad loved the famous tenors, Thomas L. Thomas and John (whose
last name escapes me.) We, Dad, had several Victor 78 records by
those two. He especially loved John, the great Irish tenor of the late
10s and 20s.

I don't know how much Ina knew of Dad's bad several weeks near the
end of the war (World War II), Dad was hauling a load of ammunition
to our front lines and his ammunition train was straffed by the
German Air Force. While he was cutting one of his beloved draft
horses who had been killed, from the the team, a wounded one kicked
his bad hip. He was already bruised and battered and sick, in the early
stages of the terrible flu that was epidemic at that time. He was sort
of abandoned for the medics to pick him up. A French farm woman
and her adult daughter found him. He was with them for several
weeks, very ill and nursed by them, before he was found by American
medics and returned to his regiment.

There is, of course, much more to this story, but the only two I knew
of who had the whole story were Uncle Lafe, and especially Uncle
Jack ( Nephi John, Jr.) and neither would ever tell the whole story,
but I heard enough for "surmising" (is that a word) to relate it.

I spend so much time thinking of my family. I had such a wonderful
host of immediate family, then aunts and uncles, and of course, cousins.

The most vivid and precious memories are of my siblings. I had a
separate and distinct relationship with each. Every time I get in a car,
I can see Ina sitting behind the wheel with tears streaming down her
face. I offer to let someone else teach her to drive but she would
always say, "No, I want you."

I see her shinnying up old Pardner's leg until she could reach the
stirrup. I see her on Silver, "in command". Then when she finally
talked me into letting her ride Lobo, the only female who ever did.
Ina was an excellent rider. She loved the horses and they trusted her.

I can't butter a waffle without thinking of Edna. She would never eat a
waffle until she had butter in every crevice. She was so intent.

Theresa was something special to all of us. The last time I saw her,
she sent all who were there out to shop because she wanted to visit
with me one on one.

Martha, was of course, Martha. My tag along sister. I have many
memories of her and of David and Delores, my only brother and baby
sister.

Those are some of his memories and reminiscences in the letter. He
talks about his and Kathy's health and closes with this:

"On the 26th of this month, Kate and I will celebrate our 60th
Wedding Anniversary. Just to remind you, Nephi John and Eliza Jane
and James Allen and Lois Stewart celebrated their 50th anniversaries
in this house. I would bet there are few houses that have had three
such celebrations for three immediate generations." He talks about
opening the old home for a celebration in their honor when they are
feeling better, maybe October.

He closes with this, "Our grandson, Jared, his really wonderful wife
and their new baby have called and want to "do us" at the house on
the 26th. We welcome it."

I wanted to share this letter because it contains some history, and
memories that I share with Leo. I, too, have felt a presence in the old
house. When I was a child living there, I often felt it so strong in the
upstairs master bedroom, on the balcony, and in the parlor, that I
was often frightened of something I was too young to understand
until one night I heard the grandmother I never knew whisper, "I
love you." Now, like Leo, I would just feel it as a confirmation of the
eternal love of our family. Many times during the day, I look at the
picture of the old house which hangs here in my home, and I smile.

Families are forever and I am grateful to know that we do have an
eternal family. The knowledge that we can be together, forever,
makes it easier to bear the trials we face throughout our mortal life .

A point of interest; Knowing of Dad's love for the song, "When You
Come To The End Of A Perfect Day" which had been sung at his father's
funeral, Mother asked George if he would sing it at Dad's funeral
service. I have never heard him sing more beautifully.

Dad had a beautiful singing voice. He sang tenor. At one time he
was invited to sing with The Tabernacle Choir after General
Authorities visiting Panaca for conference, heard him sing.

The great Irish tenor, John, whose last name Leo did not recall, was
John Count McCormack. Three of his most famous songs which Dad
loved, and which I often heard him sing, were "It's A Long Way To
Tipperary", "Keep The Home Fires Burning", and "Believe Me Of
All Those Endearing Young Charms". Keep The Home Fires
Burning and It's A Long Way To Tipperary were very popular songs
that were sung during World War II.

I made reference to the song "Lilac Time". Along the fence in front
of the old home, lilac bushes were planted. They bloomed in
profusion every spring and summer. The scent permeated the air
around the home. A fresh bouquet of blossoms was always in the
dinning room and parlor. Often, I can still smell that glorious
fragrance, and it evokes precious memories of my family.

A Beautiful Day At The Temple. . . .

2011-08-30T06:46:00.000-07:00

Joshua visited us in July. He rode out with Miranda, They came
a week before our family reunion so Josh could spend some time
with us before every one got here.

Hannah was already here. She had flown out two weeks earlier.
Miranda was going to be staying in Phoenix to start preparing for
the school yer. She hoped to get some things done before the rest
of the family arrived. She stayed here for three days with Hannah
and Josh before going to Phoenix.

It was fun spending time with them. We played Yahtzee, went to
In n' Out Burger, shopped, went to In n" Out Burger, swam, went
to In n' Out Burger. They spent time with Rhonda and Steve,
Brinton, Cote, Brexton, Nixin, Trey, Jenna, and Montana. While
with them, they shopped, went to In n' Out Burger, swam, went
to In n' Out Burger, went to movie, played with Rhonda and
Steve's animals, rode in their golf cart, went to an extreme sport
skateboard event, and more fun things. Oh, and did I mention that
they went to In n' Out Burger? Oh yeah, and how many trips did
they make to Jamba Juice?

For George and I, the highlight of Josh's stay with us was the trip
we made to the beautiful Mesa Temple. We went so Josh could
experience the joy of being baptized for some of his Wimsatt
ancestors. With Josh acting as proxy for 18 of his ancestors,
George baptized and confirmed them as members of the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I was able to be up close to watch
these sacred ordinances being performed. It was a joyful time for
all of us.

We ate lunch in the cafeteria. While we were there, the temple
president came to our table to talk to Josh. He asked him where he
was from and then talked to him about Bentonville and his life there.
He then shook his hand and thanked him for visiting the temple and
participating in the sacred ordinances for his ancestors. Joshua
looked so handsome and we were very proud of him.

After lunch, we strolled the temple grounds and took some pictures.
It was a beautiful Arizona morning and a special time shared with
our grandson. Thank you, Joshua.

More Point Hilton Pictures. . . .

2011-08-19T14:14:00.000-07:00

Ina and George - Yep, we started this!

Tracy and her son Cameron relaxing.

Tracy's daughter Chasity also taking a minute to chill.

Steve and Miranda taking time out for a chat.

Pointe Hilton Splash and Other Fun. . . .

2011-08-16T10:10:00.000-07:00

Hurry, I'm ready to go.

Can I go? Can I go? Please!

Lots of action on the volley ball court from Cameron.

Great serve, Brinton!

Trey and Josh say "We're ready!

I got the ball, now what?

Craig taking pictures of family fun.

I see Cote giving Nixin a boost! I see Chris, Jeni, Ryan and Ethan.

Who's dunking Ethan? I think it's Uncle Justin.

Trey and Grandpa George getting ready to toss Hannah.

Okay, here we go!

Nixin says "Here I come!"

Aaah, so refreshing.
I see Brinton and Charlotte, Justin, Jeni, Nixin and Ethan.

Brexton says, "I'm outta here!"

Three little Princesses, Nixin, Ryann, and Montana.

Trey, Jenna and Montana, a happy family!

Have you ever seen a cuter little leg?

Ryann says, "I want the ball."

"It's mine!"

"Got it, Mommy!"

Swimming wears a girl out! A tired Montana.

Steve, Miranda and Ryann relaxing in the shade.

I caught Rhonda relaxing in the shade.

She say's, "This is the life!"

Oops! Paul got splashed when Ethan landed.

It's up, up, and away for Ethan! He's got his hat on!

Grandpa Paul, Great Grandpa George, and Ethan!

The UpWords tradition continues with Grandma Ina.
4th and 5th generation, Josh, Chasity, and Ethan.

With Grandma Joanne, sister Ryann, and Cameron watching,
Ethan became a bit bashful, but he knows how to play the game.
He set it up all by himself, "Don't help me, I will do it!"

George and Ina's 60th Wedding Anniuversary Celebration. . . .

2011-08-09T12:49:00.000-07:00

You don't chose your family, they are God's gift to you, as
you are to them. - Desmond Tutu -

Several of the last stories I wrote were about George and my
wedding and reception. It was a joyous day filled with love
and laughter. We were excited and filled with enthusiasm as
we looked forward to our life together.

I have found that as we grow old, friends and family become
tolerant of the many eccentricities associated with the aging
process. Keep that in mind and travel with me as I leapfrog
ahead 60 years from that day to another wonderful day filled
with love and laughter.

George and I celebrated our 6oth Wedding Anniversary on
May 24, 2011. When Rhonda asked me what we wanted to do
for our anniversary, I told her the only thing we wanted was
for our family to be together and have family pictures taken.

She, Paul, and Craig, decided that the weekend of July 21st-24th
was when everyone could be together in Arizona. With Rhonda
as coordinator, they began to plan it. She researched different
sites and was impressed with the Pointe Hilton Squaw Peak
Resort in Phoenix. It is a Spanish style resort set on a mountain
side with panoramic views. It seemed to have everything we
needed for both young and old alike to have a great time.

The family gathered together, coming from Arizona, Arkansas,
California, and Utah. Craig's very special lady, Tracy, her son
Cameron and daughter Chasity, came. Miranda's boyfriend,
Ryan also came. We were very happy to have them.

We booked six casitas in Casita Village and were fortunate to
have them close together. They are charming, designed with a
distinct "south of the border" flair. There is a central area with
a fountain. Three private swimming pools with jacuzzi, lounges
with umbrellas and shelves with towels are situated among the
casitas for the exclusive use of casita residents. Near the pools
are laundry facilities, vending machine and ice.

The casitas are spacious and comfortable, two stories with living
room, large screen TV, dining room, nice furniture, kitchenette
with bar, fridge, microwave, hot beverage brewer, and half bath
on the ground floor. A small entry room with a wet bar and sink,
opens into a car port with a private parking space.

The bedroom/bedrooms, are upstairs; great beds. large bath,
another large TV, and ammenities including an ironing board and
iron, hair dryer, and lots of towels which are huge and plush. A
balcony with table, chairs and umbrella, opens off the bedroom.

There are many things to enjoy, exercise room, children's play
area, spa, golf, miniature golf, and many more. The main reason
we thought the family would enjoy this resort was for The-Hole-
In-The-Wall River Ranch, a four acre water park with a huge
pool, waterfalls, water slide, and encircling it, the Lazy River
where you can lazily float in big tubes around the entire park.

The pool area was where we spent most of our time. Passes are
issued to each casita for admission to the park and towels are
furnished. There are plenty of lounge chairs and umbrellas. Some
lounges are under overhangs for extra shade. Slim Picken's Grill
offers poolside grub and coolers with ice water and glasses are
always available. All of us loved the pool. The Lazy River tubing
was very popular with the entire family. One end of the pool was
set up for water volley ball. All ages of the family played and their
games were intense and competitive with lots of laughter. There
are two other on site restaurants available; The Hole-In-The-Wall
and Rico's American Grill.

There are several areas available for special events. For our picture
taking session Saturday morning, we chose two patio garden areas.
They are beautifully landscaped with trees, shrubs, and flowers,
arched entryways, benches, and a beautiful fountain. The family
had been concerned about the choice of brown, orange, and rust to
wear with our denim for the pictures. It turned out to be a lovely
choice. We had a beautiful mix of shades that blended perfectly
with the Spanish architecture which was painted in rich rusty
brown with rust brown tile. It was fun to see how each individual's
personality was reflected in their choice of apparel. Amanda, our
photographer, was very nice, professional, and helpful. She and
Rhonda came up with some special groupings for pictures which
everyone seemed to approve. We can't wait to see the pictures.

This reunion was all I wanted it to be, and more. It was balm for
my soul. In a world fraught with so much uncertainty and danger,
I find peace in the companionship, support, and love of my family.
Let's not take the value of family bonds for granted. We can build
a beautiful creation for today and the generations that follow.

Sights and sounds from this reunion that are irrevocably woven
into my memory and nestled lovingly in my heart and soul:

Our dinner of delicious Mexican food Friday evening. Casitas
filled with love and laughter as family visits one to another. Me
and my kids, Paul, Rhonda, and Craig playing UpWords, a Scrabble
tradition, now third generation as I play with Joshua and Chasity,
and more amazing, a fourth generation as I play with Ethan. From
watching the adults play, he knew exactly how to set the board up
and how to count his tiles and moves. Joanne saying to him early
in the morning, "So this is why you insisted we come down here?"
(to play) Cameron playing his first UpWords game. Miranda
sorting the salt water taffy into piles by flavor and being so proud
and happy to introduce Ryan to her extended family. Hannah and
Charlotte laughing as they discover my chocolate stash (oh no!)
Justin teasing me as he eats all of the cashews from the mixed
nuts (another oh no!). Cote landing perfect ollies on his skate
board in the casita courtyard. Spur laying by Montana as she
sleeps and taking the squeaker out of Muggles' toy. Muggles
laying on her pillow in front of the window happily watching the
"world go by", and biting my toes when it is time to eat. Rhonda
bringing Nixin to our casita to "pick out her treat". Our three
sassy little princesses, Nixin, Ryann, and Montana, in their
"teensy weensy little bikinis". Ryann and Montana tuckered out
from all of the excitement, sleeping in their strollers under the
overhang with Jeni and Jenna running back and forth to check on
them. George and I lounging in the shade of the overhang with
the sleeping babies and laughing at our family as they play in the
pool. Fun! Joshua, Cote, and Brexton having a good time as they
lazily drift in tubes on The Lazy River. Rhonda and Steve tubing.
Craig and Tracy and Paul and Joanne's families in their tubes.
Shouts and laughter from the volley ball teams. Paul, Chris, and
Justin tossing Ethan into the air over and over again. Ethan
making sure his hat was on each time they tossed him and Chris
making sure he had it. Trey tossing Hannah for a high dive into
the pool and he and Jenna so proud as Montana was dunked for
the first time. Jeni in the pool with Ryann. Brinton, Steve, Rhonda
playing in the pool with Cote, Brexton and Nixon, and Rhonda
laughing as she cuddles and plays with her little Princess, Montana.
Tracy and Chasity playing together. Brinton walking across the bridge
with his kids for a ride down the slippery rock slide. Brexton
curling up on a lounge by me and saying, "I'm tired and bored
with swimming now, can we go to your casita?" Me, "What
would we do at the casita?" Him, "Well you've got snacks and we
can watch TV." George deciding to go into the pool the second day
and telling me, "That was very refreshing." Cameras snapping.
Thank you Rhonda for taking most of my pictures. Two leisurely
breakfasts at Rico's American Grill with Steve and Rhonda with
Hannah joining us for one. The best Eggs Benedict I have had for
a very long time. Watching the whirl of activity at the picture
taking session. Steve (Papa) gently coaxing a reluctant Nixin
through the session. Our grandkids laughing and teasing us as
they say I "looked shocked" when Amanda told George to give
me a kiss for one of the pictures. Ryann running everywhere as
fast as her chubby little legs could take her with Jeni and Joanne
in hot pursuit. Great exercise girls! Brinton and Trey's goofy kiss
for the photographer! Pei Wei with Craig and Tracy and their kids.
Celebrating Trey's birthday at The-Hole-In-The-Wall restaurant
Saturday evening and watching Jenna laugh as he and Ethan blow
out the candle and devour his ice cream brownie birthday sundae.
Hugs, kisses, and back slaps as we checked out of our casitsas.

Thank you Paul, Rhonda, and Craig for giving us this wonderful
gift. We will never forget it. And a huge thank you to each of
our wonderful family for being there to celebrate with us. If
even one of you had been missing, it would not have been so
perfect.

I have to mention our Scattagories games the last day Craig
and Tracy were here. Ten of us; George and I, Tracy and Craig,
Cameron, Chasity, Miranda, Ryan, Hannah, and Joshua, sitting
around our dining room table playing and laughing hilariously at
some of the answers given. It was a blast! I wish everyone could
have played.

Thank you to Miranda, Hannah, and Joshua for coming early
and spending time with us and the rest of your Mesa family.
It was fun to have you.

A Very Special Wedding Gift. . . .

2011-05-20T05:16:00.000-07:00

George William Wadsworth on his mission in England

Sarah Mariah Terry Wadsworth

Josephine Rebecca Terry Wadsworth

Aunt Josie as I knew her

I will attempt to establish a foundation for this story with
some genealogy.

My great grandfather, George Allen Wadsworth and his wife
Elizabent Broadbent, had eleven children. My father's father,
Nephi John, was the second child. George William (Will) was
the fourth child, and the father in this story.

Thomas Sirls Terry, my great grandfather and his wife, Eliza
Jane Pulsipher, had twelve children. My grandmother, Eliza
Jane Terry, the wife of Nephi John, was one of these children.
Two of her sisters, Sarah Mariah and Josephine Rebecca, are
part of the foundation of this story.

George William fell in love at the age of 20 with the very
beautiful Sarah Mariah, who was 17. They married and had
a son. Soon they had a little girl, Sadie. Sarah died from
complications of the birth when she was just 20. Great
Grandmother Eliza Jane, came to Panaca to care for George
and his children until they could recover from this tragedy.
A very short time later, George was called to serve a
mission in England and Eliza Jane took the children to her
home in Hebron to care for them while he was gone. After
returning from his mission, he went to Hebron to see the
children. They didn't know him, nor did he know them.
Sarah's younger sister, Josephine, 19 at the time, had been
the primary care giver of the children. I am sure there
were many reasons, but I am romantic enough to think
and hope, that love was why George married Josephine
after a brief courtship. It is easy to see why she had fallen
in love with him; he was the father of the children she
loved as her own and he was very handsome and kind.
He took her and the children home to Panaca.

George and Josephine had nine children, Albert Thomas,
one of the principal players in this story, being their first
born.

Now a little more history. Dad had three aunts living in
Panaca. His father's sister, Elizabeth (Aunt Lizzie Edwards),
Nora, the wife of his father's brother, Benjamin (Aunt Nora
Wadsworth), and Josephine (Aunt Josie Wadsworth), the
wife of George William. Aunt Josie is the other principal
player in this story.

Dad loved these aunts. My siblings and I loved them, too.
We knew them as the "older aunts", but to us they were
the same as our other aunts who lived in Panaca, Dad's
sister Dora, and Florence and Dolly, the wives of his
brothers, Frank and Lafe. To us, perhaps, we loved to
visit their homes even more because they were an older
part of our pioneer heritage and had such wonderful
stories to tell. They loved Dad, and so they also loved his
children.

Aunt Josie lived in very humble circumstances, George
having died at the age of 50 leaving her with all of those
little children, the youngest just an infant. She cleaned
houses and took in washing and ironing to support her
family. I loved to visit her and often found myself walking
to her humble little home, hoping for a hug and another
wonderful story. Her little home was always clean, neat,
and cozy. She always had a treat for me and my siblings
when we would visit her. I realize now how meager a
treat it was, but to a child who loved her, it was always
wonderful. She would have one of her homemade
gingersnap or molasses cookies, a scone with homemade
jam, or sometimes just a cold baking powder biscuit
with molasses or honey. It was all very delicious

When Dad was proprietor of the N. J. Wadsworth and
Sons General Mercantile, he helped Aunt Josie by
giving her supplies in a way that she was never stripped
of her dignity. Aunt Josie died in 1942, having been a
widow for 31 years. I was just 11 and I was so sad when
she died. I missed her so much.

James Albert never married. He had health problems
and was mentaly handicapped. I am not sure if he was
born with these challenges or if they occurred later. I
have heard that he was severely injured in a fall from a
horse and that he had suffered severe illness with very
high fevers. I learned from listening to Dad and reading
genealogy, that for a time he worked at farming and
drove freight wagons. As a child, I remember him riding
a beautiful big black horse and hearing stories of his skill
as a true "Old West" cowboy. My brother, Leo, said there
was no one he would rather ride the range with and that
he learned a lot about being a good cowboy from Albert.
Eventually, Albert was no longer able to do these things.

Dad loved this cousin and was protective of him. He was
known as "Ob" to most everyone. He was a sweet, gentle
man. Some of the kids in town called him "Old Ob" and
when he got older, cruelly referred to him as the "dummy".
Dad told my siblings and I that we should always call him
Albert and treat him with love and respect. Dad always
had a little job for him. He always complemented him
when he completed them and helped him to feel that
he was important and of worth.

Aunt Josie had loved Albert and gave him the care that he
needed. When she died, Albert was alone and frightened.
His condition worsened. He continued to live in the little
house he and Aunt Josie had lived in for so many years.
He had a sister, Georgia, who lived next door, but she had
many problems in her own family and couldn't do too
much for him. Dad made sure Albert always had something
to keep him busy that would give him a few groceries and a
little spending money. I think after Aunt Josie died, he
looked to Dad for love and stability. In that sense, Dad
became his primary caregiver.

On a beautiful summer day, May 24, 1951, George and I
were married by Bishop Horlacher, my brother-in-law
Pete's father, in Mrs. Free's beautiful flower filled yard.
During our reception that night at the church, George and
I were standing in the receiving line with our parents. As
guests arrived, several of the Relief Society Sisters would
take their gifts and place them on a table before they came
through the line to congratulate us.

Albert came through the door. He was neatly dressed in
his best clothes, his hair slicked back, and his shoes shined.
He had a newspaper wrapped bundle clutched tightly to
his chest. As he came in, the sisters attempted to take it
from him. He clutched it tighter and became agitated
when they again attempted to take it. Dad saw what was
happening. He motioned for the sisters to step away and
asked Albert to come over. He ignored the line and the
people coming through, walked straight to me and placed
the newspaper wrapped bundle into my arms.

Dad nodded for me to take it and as I held the newspaper
against my white satin gown, Albert said to me, "These
were my mother's, we used them every day. My mother
loved me and took care of me. I loved her. James loves
me and helps me. I love him. You are James' daughter
and so I love you. You loved my mother and I want
you to have them."

He stood there and waited for me to unwrap his gift, and
with people waiting in line, Dad told me to do so. Albert
smiled his sweet smile, looking proud, as I did. Inside
were a few of Aunt Josie's dishes, much used, one chipped,
but all scrubbed clean. In those days, these dishes were
given as premiums in each box of oatmeal. They were china
and ovenware in several different patterns. This little
bundle contained an assortment of pieces . There was a
bread and butter plate, saucer, cereal bowl, and a fruit
dish in the Harvest pattern. There was a cereal bowl in the
Tea Rose pattern, a cereal bowl and a fruit bowl in the
Pastoral pattern, a cup and saucer in Jadeite and another
small green bread or salad plate.

Even as a 20 year old new bride, this touched me deeply. I
could picture him going to the cupboard and assembling
this wonderful gift for me. It was, and still is, a testament
of my father's love and respect for his family and fellow men
and a testament of his infinite kindness to those who some
people do not treat as equals, nor see them through the eyes
of our Father in Heaven.

When unpacking after a move, I always remove these dishes
before any of my other china. They have always remained
with me. I have never used them, but I look at them often
and they have been used as visual aids in lessons I have
taught in Relief Society and Young Women. They are dear
to me. They are a part of my childhood and young woman-
hood and represent a link to those people I loved so much.
I am sure on one of my many visits to Aunt Josie's humble
little home she served my treat on one of these bread and
butter plates and I happily ate from it as she told me
another wonderful story of my family and the "olden days".

As I wrote this story and took them out to photograph them,
I cried for a minute, not tears of sadness, but tears of joy
and thanksgiving for my wonderful father, his precious
Aunt Josie, and his special cousin Albert.

About Our Wedding Gift From Albert Wadsworth. . . .

2011-05-19T12:59:00.000-07:00

Pastoral by Taylor Smith and Taylor - Green under glaze print
cereal bowl and fruit dish.
Tea Rose by Homer Laughlin - scalloped edge cereal bowl with
red, yellow and blue flowers.
Oven Fire King Glass Jadeite saucer by Hocking Glass Co.

Harvest by Homer Laughlin - Red fruit compote underglaze print
cereal bowl, fruit dish, saucer, bread and butter or salad plate.

In 1915 Quaker Oats first came out with the familiar
round box featuring a picture of the Quaker Man. With
the debut, they offered their first promotional premium.
If you cut out the picture of the Quaker Man and sent it
with one dollar to the Quaker Oats Company, you would
receive a double boiler to cook your oatmeal in.

After that first successful promotion, they began to offer
premiums regularly, including puzzles, trading cards and
pins. With the advent of the trading cards, Babe Ruth's
was the most popular.

In the 1920s and 1930s, Homer Laughlin, Taylor Smith
and Taylor, and Royal China jointly made breakfast sets
in several different patterns of china for Quaker Oats,
with individual pieces given away in each box of oats.

Another popular premium found in Quaker Oatmeal was
a Jadeite cup and saucer. Jadeite was first produced by
Jeanette Glass Co. and McKee in the 1920s and 1930s.
In the early 1940s, Anchor Hocking Glass Co. began
producing it's Oven Fire King Glass with Jadeite being
a favorite color. Jadeite was named for it's translucent
green color. Promotional advertising said you would
receive a piece of Jadeite "free" in each box of oats. It
wasn't exactly free, however, as you paid 24 cents for
the box of oats.

These dishes are highly sought after by collectors. You
can still find them at Flea Markets, Antique Stores, and
garage sales.

Knock Offs of the Jadeite Oven Fire King Glass are
being produced in China and Japan and so care must
be taken if you want to buy vintage pieces.

These pictures show the dishes Albert Wadsworth gave
George and I at our Wedding Reception. They are an
important part of my previous story. There is a cup to
match the Jadeite saucer but I did not want to empty
the hutch to find it. I don't know why they were not
together.

I think it is very possible that when I was a little girl
visiting Aunt Josie in her humble little home, I ate
my scone and jam or my baking powder biscuit and
molasses from one of these dishes that Albert chose,
lovingly wrapped in newspaper, and pressed into my
arms at our wedding reception on that beautiful
night so long ago.

Conana's new "Digs" . . . .

2011-05-12T12:38:00.000-07:00

In December 1991, two weeks before Christmas, George was installing carpet on a patio in Gilbert. It was very cold and windy, and raining. Out of the rain walked a little Indian Ring Neck Parrot. She was cold, wet and hungry. She walked up to George and waited for him to pick her up. If she had been enjoying her freedom, doing whatever birds do when they are flying free, she was no longer having fun. She was scared and miserable. He called to the woman he was working for and asked her if she had lost a parrot. She told him no and when he asked her if she wanted one, she again answered, "no".

George put her in a box he had in his van and gave her several Ritz
Crackers. The woman's teenage daughter and two friends canvassed
the neighborhood asking people if they had lost their bird. When no
one had claimed her, George brought her home. I put an ad in the
newspaper and still on one claimed her.

We bought a cage and I took her to a vet. I wanted to make sure she
was not sick from her adventure in the wet winter weather. Due to
the color of the ring around her neck, I was quite sure she was a
female, but I wanted to know for sure. Also, I was wondering how old
she was. The vet said she was healthy, but underweight. He said she
was a female and that she was mature. He estimated her age to be 3
or 4. We had learned a few things about parrots and the trouble they
can get in, and so we named her Conana, after Conan the Destroyer.

This little parrot adored George from the first time she saw him. She
had found him and he had rescued her. She always wanted him to
hold her, pet her, and scratch her back. She cooed at him, talked to
him, and performed for him. The way she kissed up to him was
hilarious. She barely tolerated me. She was jealous of me and would
try to bite me whenever she had the chance. She screamed at me
and rolled her eyes until they were yellow. But since I fed her,
cleaned her cage, gave her treats and a tub to bathe in, she put up
with me. She knew the minute George's van pulled into the driveway
and the garage door opened, and she was so happy. Her favorite time
of the day was in the evening when George laid on the floor to watch
TV. She ran around the room, climbed all over him, and would
stretch way up with wings spread, to mimic an eagle. Whenever
George says, "be an eagle", she does it.

Conana has lived with us for almost 20 years. She has been a fun
addition to our family. She likes most men and doesn't care
much for women. She loves to eat. She loves "people" food.
She knows when we are eating and will run around her cage,
stopping to ring her bell on each circle, until I take her some of
whatever we are eating. Her favorite food is corn on the cob, She
loves potatoes, fixed any way, bread and pizza. She loves chicken
(a bit of a cannibal, perhaps.) She loves most fresh fruit and
vegetables. She loves sunflower seeds. Her favorite nut is peanuts,
but she will not shell them. I do it for her, and still the ungrateful
little character will bite "the hand that feeds her". I learned that it
is actually healthy to feed a parrot people food along with the
commercial mix as long as you watch the salt and the sugar.

Her life of freedom came to an end on Wednesday, April 13, 2005
when George flew to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to get Muggles, our
beautiful little red Norfolk Terrier. Being a terrier and bred as a
vermin hunter, we can not trust Muggles to not hurt her. Now, I
know a bird is not vermin, but I was not sure Muggles knows it.

For the last six years, I have worried about Conana and her loss
of freedom. Was she happy still, I wasn't sure. When I became so
ill this year, one of the things I was diagnosed with was environ-
mental emphysema. In an effort to protect my lungs, we needed to
move Conana to the patio as bird droppings, particularly parrot
and pigeon, can aggravate lung problems. George had recently
decided to move his leather work to the patio. Not wanting to
cut out light or the view, he used clear panels to enclose it. It is
light, airy, and very attractive. He purchased a portable air
conditionig unit that is very effective.

This was the perfect time to get Conana a larger cage with a play
area on top. We knew that birds love to be up high so they can
view their terrain. Did we go overboard with the size of her cage?
Most likely we did, but she loves it. She is a happy little bird. So
happy, she will sometimes let me scratch her back and pet her
without biting me.

How did Muggles handle this? It has been hilarious. She has driven
us to distraction at times. For the first two months, she spent every
waking moment sitting at the sliding glass doors staring at
Conana. The first thing she does in the morning, is run to check her
out. She eats and runs right back. She would lay there all night if
we didn't take her in our bedroom and shut the door. We say the
word bird, or Conana, and she takes up her stance. I am sure she
is living with a stiff neck from looking up all of these weeks.

Conana is not afraid of her, and I am no longer sure Muggles would
delibertely try to hurt her, but we can't take the chance, so if
Conana is playing on top, Muggles can not go out. Conana will run
around the bottom of her cage and she and Muggles will go nose to
nose through the bars. So far, Conana has not bitten her nose, maybe
she doesn't want to.

Every day when I see Conana enjoying her new "digs" and being so happy, I am grateful that we have given this sassy little parrot with the enchanting personality, a new and refreshing look at the beauty of the outdoors and a new environment to enjoy the rest of her life. We love her. Thank you Conana for 20 years of fun.

An Indian Chief, a Campfire, Two Girls, and a Dance

2011-04-15T05:23:00.000-07:00

Edna and Theresa Martha

Edna speaking:

My cousin, Francis Jo and I, spent hours writing plays and performing them with our younger brothers and sisters and others we recruited to help us. In retrospect, I realize we always had an audience because we produced wonderful comedies. Even our tragedeies were comedies. One, I remember very vividly. It started out with "Pandora" sitting fanning herself and suddenly a pig walked in. This was a talking pig that turned into Prince Charming, shades of today's books, Charlotte's Web and Babe In The City, and this was about 70 years ago.

We had one play where the hero was a Superman type. Across from my home was a lot where the house had burned down and the place had reseeded itself into a jungle. In our play, the hero chased the bad guys all the way through the jungle and the capture ended in the barn at the bottom of the lot.

During the chase, the audience followed the actors all of the way at a fast run, with the little ones yelling. "Wait!" We hadn't yet mastered the moving or the changing of the stage and props. Of course, our largest audience was made up of our little siblings. and their friends.

Another time, Jo and I made up an Indian dance. The dance was ceremonial and supposedly was performed around a camp fire. We made mock suede or leather costumes from gunny sacks and spent hours cutting all of the edges into strips two inches long to stimulate fringe. We performed the dance at a school program. Word got around about this "great dance" and we were invited to dance at a high school assembly. They clapped, stomped, whistled, and encored us. We were convinced that our dance was fantastic, and so came to the conclusion that our most appreciative audience would be the Indians themselves.

They had come to town a short time earlier to harvest pine nuts, as they did each year. We sneaked out after dark and went to their camp above town. We crept from one sagebrush to another, whispering to each other as we found our next concealment. Bear in mind that there were people in town who had experienced hostile Indians, and we were frightened by tales we had heard.

The Indians saw us, of course, and beckoned us in. We did our dance for them and they yelled and stomped. We were simply flabbergasted! I can still see the big fat chief (there really was one). He rolled back and forth on the ground, laughing so hard that big tears were running down his dark, fat cheeks. Then we really were petrified, but they just gave us some pine nuts and escorted us part of the way home. "Old Charlie" couldn't wait for Dad to go to the corral the next morning so he could tell him about it. Dad explained to us later that if the dance had not been "so good", we could have insulted them because they were so proud and so brave. I learned a great lesson. Of course, all experiences are a part of the learning process, good and bad, but what an adventure it was!

Theresa speaking:

Jo's older sister Bea, and I, always wished we could be as brave and forward as our younger sisters, so when we heard Edna and Jo planning this caper, we decided we would follow them. It wasn't until we were almost there that I discovered we were also being followed. Yep, our little "tag-a-long" was my little sister, Martha. We were afraid that if we took her home, we would miss "the show", so we told her that she would be in "big trouble" if she made any noise. We were amazed at how brave Edna and Jo were. We were scared to death and couldn't wait to be home, snuggled into our warm pajamas and comfortable beds.

A bit of trivia to go with this story:

Edna and Jo attended BYU. While there, they tried out, and were accepted, as part of BYU's dance team. Hmmm, I wonder if when they had to perform an original dance in competition, did they do their Indian Dance?

Jo married Sherman Hinkley, President Gordon B. Hinkley's brother. Jo"s brother Don, married President Hinkley's sister, Sylvia.

Words From Martha, A "Tag-A-Long" Little Sister. . .

2011-04-07T04:13:00.000-07:00

The other day, I was thinking of some things we used to do for entertainment as children growing up in Panaca. There was no such thing as television and many people did not even have a radio. We made our own fun, and there was plenty for all.

Play acting and story telling - what fun we had with that! Some of our plays were really great. My sister Edna, and cousin Jo, were something else. They would pull back the curtains to the stage and away we would all go - the audience running to keep up with the actors. This could envolve several town blocks . These were very original stories that no one wanted to miss. I remember one "swell" one. It went like this - Pandora sat fanning herself and all of a sudden a pig walked in! Now is that a good opener, or what?

A favorite time was when the Indians came through twice a year. The tribe spent weeks gathering pine nuts. Few people realized that the chief had attended the BYU Academy and was an educated person. He had been sent to school so he would be ready to lead his people.

We all, the children anyway, thought he was a fierce person. He thought we were one "crazy" tribe. My father always made sure there was work for the young chief so he could furnish sugar, flour, and other necessary items for his people. A couple of my siblings, a cousin and I, used to creep away and hide in the shoulder high "rabbit" brush so we could entertain them. We felt very brave and smart and I remember the great laughs we received. My cousin and sister spent hours on "gunny sack" dresses that were frayed and decorated with beads. The whole purpose of this operation was to dance "Indian" around their fire. How the chief would laugh and I would burrow deeper into the brush and hide "plenty".

When the chief came to weed and thin the new plants for dad, it became my duty to talk "Indian" so he would know how to communicate with us. How he would laugh at my weird utterings, grunts, and so on. I could lay him in the aisle everytime. Because he was Dad's good friend, he put up with our nonsense.

Foster Charles/Charlie Foster. . . .

2011-02-17T10:36:00.000-08:00

In several of my stories I have written about Foster Charles, also
called Charlie Foster. He was the Indian Chief who was a good friend
of Dad's. He and his tribe came to Panaca each year when it was time
to harvest the pine nuts from the Pinon Pine trees that grew in great
profusion on the Panaca summit.

Several months ago, in an e-mail, Bruce asked me if I knew what had
happened to the Indian Chief that was Dad's good friend. I wrote Leo
hoping that he could tell me some of the history of Charlie. I received
an answer from him with the following information:

In the 1870's, the Utes, including Paiutes and Chivwits, had decided
to start another war against the whites that were taking over Utah,
Southern Idaho, Northern Arizona, and Eastern Nevada. The wars
of the 1850s and 1860s were still fresh in memory, but the Indians
had not really been beaten. Although they could not get a real
movement going, it looked like they were going to try again. A minor
war chief went to our Great Grandfather Terry and to our Great
Uncle, Charles Foster. These two men had married sisters, aunts of
our grandmother, Eliza Jane Terry Wadsworth. The chief told the
two men that he had to answer the call. At that time, honor to the
Indians meant more than to many whites.

The chief stated that he knew it was a losing cause and that the anger
would be such that he was afraid for his family. He wanted those two
good friends of his to take his two children and raise them as their own.

Uncle Charlie had not the large growing family that Thomas Sirls had,
so he took both of them. It was necessary that they be given white
people's names. He reversed the names of him and his wife. Using
those names, he had the children baptized and sent them to school.
They evidently were good students. Uncle Charlie sent them to the
BYU Academy. The way I remember it, after one year the girl
returned home, "back to the blanket", and married. Foster remained
at school for two years in Provo. He stayed very strong in the
church. When he was in Panaca, he never missed attending.
He looked upon Granddad Nephi as a cousin.

After granddad died, Foster continued to bring his family to Panaca
each year as soon as school was out in the St. George area. His three
older sons worked for some of the men in Panaca, mostly for Dad
and his brother, Uncle Frank.

Through the government in Washington D.C., the Bureau of Indian
Affairs and the Department of Interior had been in charge of building
houses for the Navaho's and Hopis in Arizona and New Mexico.
Several clusters of small, square cement homes were built on the
Chivwits Reservation west of Santa Clara, Utah. But rather than
the Indians falling on their knees in thanksgiving, as had been
expected by the government, most of them were not interested.
In the beginning, government representatives selected "leaders"
from the Indians to contribute their thoughts and ideas on the
venture. Accord was never reached between our government
and the Indians. Due to that, and the lack of interest by the Indians,
most of the houses were never lived in and fell into ruin.

Foster with a better than average education, his father's status
in the Indian Nation, influence in politics because of his
foster families, and because the three Indian tribes trusted him,
had been chosen to be a leader. Figuratively though, like his
sister, he "went back to the blanket". Besides seeing him when he
came to Panaca with his tribe, Dad went through the reservation
fairly often to see him and thus remained in touch.

Leo said he doesn't remember Foster coming to Panaca after 1935.
He clarified that year with a ?, meaning he is not sure of the year.
I think Charlie had to have returned into the late 1930s as I have
vivid memories of him and his tribe together on the porch of the
Wadsworth store on several occasions. I remember how nice they
all were to me because I was James' daughter. I also have vivid
memories of playing with one of the little Indian girls who was my
age. If they quit coming in 1935, I would have only been four years
old and I don't think my memories would be so strong and clear.

Leo said Peter, Charlie's (Foster's) youngest son and he, were
good friends. After the tribe quit coming to Panaca, Leo said he
would see Peter once-in-a-while at horse race meets and rodeos.
He was always very friendly and happy to see Leo, but outside of
that, he didn't seem to want to socialize

Anther point of interest is that the second husband of our second
cousin Nell Wadsworth, was Charlie Foster's youngest son.
Leo said he had some good visits with him at Wadsworth and
Stewart reunions in the Las Vegas area where they lived. He
said he has often wondered why this man didn't keep track of the
Foster Charles family as that family meant so much to Uncle
Charles Foster.

I hope the Foster Charles/Charlie Foster references in this story
are not totally confusing to you. Our family always referred to him
as Charlie Foster rather than Foster Charles.

Charlie and his tribe were an important part of my childhood. I
loved it when they would assemble at the Wadsworth store. I
was fascinated with their gentle nature, the sound of their soft
conversation in their own language. I loved the vivid colors in
their clothes, the women's long dresses, the ribbons and beads
braided into the little girls hair, and the haircuts the men and
boys sported. I was enthralled with the papooses sleeping in
their beautiful cradle boards.

Thank you, Leo, for this wonderful information. I would love to
know where Charlie is buried. I am sure it is in the St. George
Santa Clara area. I am going to do some research on this.

I'm Back. . . .

2011-02-17T10:16:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it has been six months since I last posted. The first
problem was an inability to post pictures. I didn't want to post my
stories without the pictures that go with them. I still haven't
solved the problem. We are working on it and hope to solve it
soon. For now, I will write stories that will not be posted with
pictures. The second problem is that I got sick. It has been a
longer recovery than I expected and I have not been able to
focus.

Thank you for your patience. I haven't forgotten all of my loyal
followers and I hope you haven't forgotten me.

About the "Something Borrowed" at my wedding. . . .

2010-11-14T05:15:00.000-08:00

When writing about getting ready for my wedding. I related how

my mother put into my hand the beautiful white handkerchief with

the delicate crocheted edging that she carried when she and my

father were married. It was the same handkerchief that her mother

had carried on her wedding day. She told me it was the "something

borrowed" I would carry to my wedding and that I would carry

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

For many years, my sisters and I shared in the joy of collecting

dolls. It was more than a hobby to us. It was something we all

loved and could do together. I have often reflected on the happy

times we shared as we searched together for that "perfect doll",

the one that was our heart's desire, the one that we just had to

have. Searching for that doll gave us an excuse to be together. It

fueled our excited phone calls late at night or very early in the

morning. It gave us the joy of receiving or sending, a spontaneous

gift to a beloved sister. I remember searching in England and Germany the summer I traveled there, for a doll for each of my sisters. I remember several occasions when I opened a

package from a sister and found a doll nestled lovingly in tissue

paper and smiling up at me as I looked at her.

I have loved going to my sister's homes and looking at their dolls

and the way they are displayed. I have particularly enjoyed

looking at the dolls in the hutch in my sister Delores' home. She

is the sister closest to my age and we were childhood playmates.

We did everything together. We often dressed alike and shared

many of the same friends. In her hutch, she has some of the same

dolls that I have displayed in my home. They speak to us of a

Christmas from our childhood. When I see her Doc doll from Snow

White and the Seven Dwarfs smiling at those who look at him, I

smile, because at home my Doc smiles at me and reminds me of

a gift from our brother Leo who bought him for us on a joyful day

in Provo, Utah, when we were little girls. We have loved him

since our childhood.

Edna didn't feel that she had money to buy dolls for her sisters,

so she began buying paper dolls for us. Soon, we all were adding

to our paper doll collections. It was a race to see who could find

the latest Hallmark paper doll birthday card for their sisters.

We enjoyed buying the modern paper dolls and searching in

gift shops and antique stores for old ones. We were always

trying different ways to exhibit them. Edna spent many hours

cataloging hers and putting them into albuums. Mine are carefully sorted but they are not on display. I look at them often but few

see them.

Besides collecting dolls, we all tried our hand at making a rag,

bisque, or composition doll. Some were better at this than others. We all dressed a doll, or dolls, in clothes we designed and sewed. Martha and Theresa were the most talented at designing and making the clothes. The rest of us benefited from their talent as they helped us in our endeavors.

Theresa is the sister who excelled in making rag dolls and teddy bears. She helped me make my first Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls

for my little nieces, Marsha and Ann, and later for my own children.

We spent many happy evenings embroidering the faces, stuffing

the bodies, and making their clothes. Mother was an expert in rag

doll making. My children were the recipients of sock monkeys and

stuffed animals. She lovingly made beautiful rag dolls for Rhonda

and her other grandaughters. I am sure that is where Theresa got

her love for making such beautiful rag dolls.

I never tried to make a Teddy Bear. I have several adorable bears that Theresa made for me in all sizes, from tiny two inches to eighteen inches. She dressed some of them and others came with beautifully crafted assessories like the stick horse the cowboy teddy bear has.

Martha excelled in making bisque and composition dolls. She was meticulous in making sure that they were accurate in every detail. She researched the hair and clothes before finishing a doll. She searched for hours for the perfect wig. If she was creating a vintage "antique" doll, she shopped antique stores for material for the clothes and if she couldn't find a dress or coat pattern she liked, she created her own. At one time or another, together or alone, we all made a bisque doll and dressed it. I also took a class and made a doll with my daughter-in-law, Joanne.

The pictures I have posted with this story are of a doll Martha made from the mold of a French Bru. She made one for each of us. She found the material for the dress at an antique store that stocked old vintage material. What makes this doll so special is the collar and the beautiful lace trim on the dress. After mother's death, Martha was going through an old trunk mother kept in the closet of our little home in Panaca. She found the beautiful white handkerchief, the one that was the "something borrowed" I carried at my wedding. She also found the dress my father wore when he was blessed in 1887. The dress had deteriorated and turned yellow with age but the lace trim was beautiful and unblemished. Martha cut the handkerchief into two pieces. She fashioned them into collars for the dresses. She added the three delicate blue bead flowers and some lace from Dad's christening dress to finish them. She then trimmed the skirt of the dress with more of the lace. The finished doll is beautiful. I will forever cherish it because my sister made her for me and because her clothes are finished with a collar made from the handkerchief carried by my grandmother at her wedding. Namie then gave it to my mother who carried it when she and my father were married in the Salt Lake Temple.

The tradition was then carried on as Mother gave it to me to carry at my wedding and to full fill a promise she made to me, that I would carry it again when George and I were sealed in the temple.

I did carry it on June 21, 1958. On that beautiful day, George and I kneeled at the alter and were sealed as husband and wife. Then Paul and Rhonda were brought in and sealed to us and we became a family sealed together in love, for time and all eternity. I remember looking at my mother holding Rhonda in her arms with Paul at her side. Uncle Viv and Aunt Wanda and Delores and Pete were there. Thank you. Martha, for such a special gift. This doll is very special to me. I will cherish her as long as I live and hope that after I am gone, Rhonda will take her and love her as I have.

My Celluloid Carnival Doll. . . .

2010-11-05T09:06:00.000-07:00

When we moved to Mesa from Descanso, California, in 1989, I

packed an old trunk with dolls and things related to dolls. The

trunk sat in our storage unit until just a few months ago when

George brought it to the house so I could go through it and

decide what I am going to do with the things that are in it.

I opened it this morning for the first time since I packed it all of

those years ago. I did it with feelings of dread that the hot Mesa

summers had ruined everything that was in it. Laying on top

was a small tissue wrapped item with a sticker reading "Celluloid

Carnival Doll - Utah State Fair - 1939".

I opened it and saw a cute little Kewpie celluloid doll smiling at

me. Her feathers were disintegrating but otherwise she was

still in remarkable condition considering she is 72 years old.

Feelings of nostalgia overwhelmed me as I was assailed by my

memories of a visit to the Utah State Fair those many years

ago. I was visiting Theresa and LeGrande. The fair had opened.

I had never been to a large fair and they thought it would be fun

for us to spend the day there. I was in heaven! The sights, sounds,

and smells were amazing. I had my very first ride on the huge

double Ferris Wheel. We went to the area where the animals were

on exhibit. They bought me a candy apple, ice cream, and pink

cotton candy as we strolled the midway. We played some games

and LeGrande won a prize for me throwing coins into ashtrays.

I had my choice of several prizes and after agonizing over making

a decision, I chose this little celluloid doll. Originally, she was

fastened on a bamboo cane. I don't know what happened to it.

We looked through many buildings housing different exhibits. It

was a magical day for a little girl from the tiny town of Panaca.

After I became an adult and began to spend time with Theresa,

not as her little sister but as a best friend, fellow doll lover and

collector, we often talked of that day. Theresa asked me if I

remembered the last thing I did at the fair. She was laughing as

she shared it with me. As she talked, I did remember most of

what she told me.

This is her account of what happened. It was almost time for us

to go home and Theresa wanted to see the displays in the Home

Arts Building. This building was where the sewing, embroidery,

crocheting, knitting, quilting, and other fancy handiwork was

displayed. Theresa made beautiful clothing. She quilted and her

embroideried pieces were absolutely beautiful.

LeGrande was not interested in walking through those displays.

He told Theresa to go and enjoy herself and he would take me to

some of the Midway shows. When we met her later, I began to

tell her about the show we saw where a huge woman was dressed

in a costume made from balloons and feathers of all colors and sizes.

She sat on a throne which was on an elevated stage. A carnival barker

asked people in the audience a question and if they answered it

correctly, they could pop a balloon. I don't remember when we left

the show, but I do remember a lot of balloons were popped before

we did. With each balloon that was popped, more of this huge woman

in her feathers, was revealed.

Theresa became more and more angry as I told this story. She

said to LeGrande, "What on earth were you thinking taking a

child to that show?" LeGrande was blushing a little, but he was

smiling as he answered, "Well Sugar (he always called her Sugar),

there were a lot of kids there and they were loving all of the

balloons popping. It was not anything to worry about because I

knew we could leave before too many of them were popped, and

we didn't pop any. And then, he sweetly asked, "Did you enjoy the

Home and Fine Arts displays?"

Now, Theresa was the one who told me all of the dialogue that

was exchanged between her and LeGrande. Theresa visited me

when we lived in El Cajon and on two occasions we went to the fair

at the Delmar Race Track and Fairgrounds. She and Edna visited

me in Mesa and we went to the Arizona State Fair. Each time, as

we were walking through the Home Arts Building, Theresa would

tell the story again and we would laugh until we cried and had to

sit down.

Through the years, this has remained one of my favorite stories.

My little Celluloid Carnival Doll is very special to me. It is not just

that she has survived for 72 years, but because of the wonderful

memorie she evokes.

Celluloid being as fragile as it is, I am surprised that I still have

her. She has lived most of her life in a trunk. She was in

Mother's trunk in her closet until after I married and began

collecting dolls. She was on display for a time in Descanso and

then once again put into a trunk where she lay for 21 years.

Even without all of her feathers, I love her.

A little history about celluloid:

Celluloid is one of the first synthetic plastics ever created. It is

made from wood products that include cellulose nitrate and

camphor. It is not the perfect plastic since it is flammable and

deteriorates easily if exposed to moisture. It also can be prone to

denting, cracking and yellowing.

Bisque and china dolls were breakable, fragile, and expensive,

so in the 1830s, doll and toy makers began experimenting with

celluloid. It was easily molded and was generally inexpensive.

Some fine dolls were created by major doll manufacturers from

celluloid and by the early 1900s were plentiful. In the late 1930s

and 1940s, Japan and a few companies in the United States and

Europe found a market for the inexpensive lesser quality celluloid

used to make carnival dolls and the other cheap toys and trinkets

that began showing up at carnivals and fairs. The celluloid Kewpie

Carnival Doll was one of the more popular items offered as a game

prize on the midways of these events. These little vintage dolls like

mine are now a sought after collectible coveted by doll and toy

collectors.

Our New Bedroom. . . .

2010-08-28T09:48:00.000-07:00

We finally finished redoing our bedroom. I don't think we would have

been been able to accomplish this without Trey's help. He helped

George move the furniture and he removed the popcorn from the

ceiling, textured and painted it. He also did all of the high ladder

work such as removing and reinstalling the ceiling fan and the high

up painting.

Rhonda was my interior designer when it came to choosing colors

and the valance for the blind. To save money, we tried to use accent

pieces we had. We also decided to not replace the blind for the sliding

patio door. Since it was pink, I worried about that, but the colors

we chose and the valance Rhonda found, tied it together beautifully.

We used lamps we already had in our bedroom. George repainted

the design with colors to match the walls. You would think that I

chose colors to match the dolls, flower arrangement, and floral

picture. I didn't. I chose the colors I wanted and they just happened

to compliment my accent pieces. I was amazed and happy at how

they blended so perfectly with each other.

Years ago, Kathy painted each of Leo's sisters a floral picture

featuring our favorite colors. Over the years, her picture has hung

in several different homes we have had and it looks nicer on this

wall than any of the others.

Rhonda brought me the beautiful Furga doll from Italy years ago.

I had always admired my siter Theresa's Furga dolls and was

delighted when she brought her to me. She didn't know I had

always wanted a Furga lady doll. We kept Brinton while she

was in Italy. It was 1984. He was just a little guy, 15 months old.

The boy and girl C & R Dolls on the dresser, were a gift from

Theresa in the early 1980s. The flower arrangement was made

by Donna Sperry who is a dear friend and was Relief Society

President when George was Bishop of the Alpine Ward. She made

it for his office. The plaques are in recognition of the hours and

service I have rendered to the Phoenix Zoo since I became a

volunteer there in 1991.

The picture above the bed is a limited edition lithograph of a

painting done by Ruby, the Phoenix Zoo's painting elephant.

It is titled "Midnight". I have had it since just after Ruby died

and had never framed it to hang. This was the perfect time.

George hand tooled the leather picture of Ruby to hang by it.

It was done from a photo taken of Ruby just after she had

completed a painting. The raised trunk was always her

signal that the painting she was working on was finished.

Dick George was the Zoo's photographer at that time. He

wrote and illustrated a book about Ruby after her death.

So, our new bedroom is decorated with things that are near

and dear to my heart and make the room seem even more

special to me. I think it all blended together in a very

attractive way.

"My Worst Nightmare Come True!". . . .

2010-08-28T06:27:00.000-07:00

When I started my blog and chose not to make it private, I have had
nightmares that someday someone would read it and be offended by
something I said, either about them or information I posted, that
they did not deem to be correct.

Two weeks ago, that nightmare came true. I went to my mailbox early
in the morning and found a small parcel there. I thought, "Hmmm, I
am not expecting anything, I wonder what this is?"

I looked at the return address and it said it was from Roscoe Wilkes.
My heart almost stopped and I broke out in a cold sweat wondering
what my long ago District Attorney would be sending me. When I
opened it, there was a letter and a book. Knowing that I had written
about Roscoe in at least two of my blog stories, my hands were
shaking so bad I could hardly focus to read the letter. I found myself
thinking, "Oh no, could Roscoe have someway found my blog and
did I say something to offend him."

It is a very gracious, very fun, letter. Never-the-less, I could not
wait to go to my blog and read the stories that included him, and my
heart was pumping big time. I couldn't imagine saying anything that
would offend him as I had nothing but the utmost admiration for him
and he taught me so much in the few times that I was called to his
office to assist him. Still worrying, I read and reread, what I said.

Finally George said to me, "Ina, quit worrying so, the things you said,
rather than offending Roscoe, probably made him feel good." So
Roscoe, if you read this, thank you for the letter. I loved it and I love
what you said about my family. I appreciate you taking the time to
write me. Do you think maybe it is the "Teddy Bear" side of you
that did this? I was immediately transported back to those days
when I was a wide eyed young girl working at my first important job
as a secretary to County Clerk, Esther Rollins and completely in
awe of Lincoln County District Attorney, Roscoe Wilkes.

Thank you for sending me your marvelous book. I have read it,
and some of the stories more than once. It is a very delightful
read. It is a wonderful bit of history of Pioche and Lincoln
County and I now have my own personally signed copy.

And now, being a glutton for punishment, I am going to push my
luck a bit farther and and include your letter in this post. That
is because it mentions members of mine and George's families in
a most positive way and will be a fun addition to the family history
I am attempting to write.

Roscoe's book is titled :

HIGH DESERT TALES
from the Not So Wild West

The cover features a wonderful picture of Pioche's No. 1 Mine.
To all of you who grew up in and loved a small town, and those
of you who just visit or read about them, I highly recommend this
book. It is a delightful, nostalgic read.

A letter to Ina Mae and George from Roscoe Wilkes:

Hi Ina Mae and George,

Browsing the internet, I discovered your writing about growing up
in a small town and enjoyed it, as I too experienced that privilege
in Pioche. One can even enjoy towns smaller than Pioche and
Panaca in story in the enclosed book.

Yes, I am the "Teddy Bear" who made little girls quake in their
boots then. And am also a "close" friend of brother Jim (Leo) and
an admirer, classmate and friend of sister Theresa, proud to have
her as our valedictorian, an honor won fair and square.

Count me as presumptuous in sending you the book, back cover by
daughter Karen, classmate of your cousin Terry, forward by sister
Kathryn. Son in Law did the cover and niece, Mary Duffin Stasak
typed it all, she is a first rate court reporter. So, it is a family affair.
Please, George and you read the stories then favor me with your
evaluation, good or bad.

I believe Art Wimsatt is George's younger brother, am I correct?
Art was star on my 8th grade basket ball team in the late 40s. I was
a Pioche teacher. Enclosed also is an "ad" and a "news article"
hopefully to appear in the Lincoln County Record on Aug 26 and
Sept 2, sent as information to you. Don't know if you have gone for
publication of a book, in my experience it entails more stress than an
old timer needs and costs a bundle.

At soon to be 93, with thanks to favorable genes and modern
medicine, I am still vertical, driving in heavy traffic if need be,
doing my own cooking and laundry (no enjoyment) and eyeing
lonesome widows, lost two wives, 30 years with each, both from
cancer. Now being pampered by two daughters and enjoying one
granddaughter one great grandson, a sister 91, and a loyal niece and
her husband.

Would love to hear from you.

My Best, Roscoe

And he signed his name in the beautiful script that I remember from
so very long ago. There is something in the distinctive flourish with
which these District Attorneys sign their name. I always love to see
my brother Leo's (Jim) signature on any correspondence I receive.

Words Of Wisdom From A Wise And Spiritual Man. . . .

2010-08-08T09:26:00.000-07:00

Lois Stewart Wadsworth and James Allen Wadsworth

Last Sunday was Fast and Testimony meeting. As I sat listening

to the testimonies that were being borne, I couldn't help but reflect

that as people prioritize the things in their life that are of the most

importance, the things that make them the happiest, some of them

list the material things; possessions, trips taken, and events that

give them instant excitement and entertainment. I didn't share

my testimony and that is not a good thing, but I found myself

hoping that I would never lose sight of what a "true testimony"

really is.

I remembered something I had read a few months earlier that

my father wrote at the end of his life history. In this history, he

shared some of the things he had accomplished in his life that he

considered important enough to make a difference in the lives of

his fellow men. I am proud of these accomplishments, but it is

what my father said at the end that touched my heart. His

children, grand children, great grandchildren and great great

grandchildren need to read this. It is a beautiful legacy left by

a truly wise and spiritual man. It follows:

"Now at 77 years of age and my health not too good, I have been

compelled to give up most of my public work. I am not entirely

satisfied with what I have done. Yet I look back over my life's

work and feel that I have few regrets. I can still attend some

meetings and perhaps do a little talking and discussing, and in

this way still keep up with what is going on and still do some good.

I would not have you think that what I have related is what has

been best in my life. Far from it. The greatest thing in my life has

been my wife and our family; the joy, satisfaction, and happiness I

now have with my wife and family, which now gives me

great grandchildren. I am a thorough believer in God and in his

Son, Jesus Christ. I believe that God is the spirit Father of

every man born in this world, that Adam is the Father of all men

in mortality. We were taught and instructed in the Spirit World

by God the Father and Jesus Christ, his Son.

There is definitely a pattern and a purpose in life, which is to

serve God and keep his commandments, that we might grow

and become like Him. When God created Adam "in his own

image". and gave unto him an helpmate (woman Eve), that it

was for the purpose of bringing children "like unto God" into

this world, all of the spirit children of our Father and Mother,

which art in Heaven. The body and spirit perfected consti-

tute the soul of man. When Adam ate of the forbidden fruit

in the Garden of Eden, he became as God, "knowing good from

evil. His eyes were opened". But Adam had disobeyed,

knowing by the commandment of the Lord and sin came into

the world, the greatest of which is death. Up until Adam broke

the first commandment, everything was peace and serenity.

There was now enmity among all the creatures God had

created "to dwell upon the earth."

As men were born upon the earth, they were to do as Adam

did. They were to take unto themselves a wife and bring

children into the world, the greatest blessing, privilege, and

commandment ever given to man. Now, since these children

had been born into a sinful, ignorant, and cruel world, unless

something was done, man would be lost in sin forever. So,

the Father gave His only Begotten Son, "that whosoever

believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting

life." Jesus was crucified and took upon himself the sins of

all mankind; those now born, those who were born before

he came, and those yet to be born, even as many as there

were and are, spirits in heaven.

So, Christ was born, crucified, buried and resurrected so

that these wonderful things could come to us (men); a

resurrection, to come from the grave; to take our sins

away from us; to give us our agency, and to give us the

Gospel of Jesus Christ through which we might work out

our Salvation in his Kingdom.

Now, I firmly believe what I have written above and have

an abiding faith in these things. So, when I took my wife,

I understood what, at least to a certain degree, was my (our)

mission and purpose in this life; to bring children into this

world and to accept all the responsibility belonging thereto.

When I took my sweetheart to be my wife to love, cherish,

and protect, to be the better part of me, to be one with me

through love and sorrow and to furnish her a home filled

with love, to feed and clothe her and the children she gave

me, I entered upon the greatest career, responsibility and

commandment in all of the whole world. The greatest, the

grandest, of most importance in the church, the nation or

in the whole world. I put myself in a position to have more,

and do more, than it is possible to get in any job, position, or

way, to be had in the world."

Taken from "A brief history of James Allen Wadsworth,

son of Nephi John and Eliza Jane Terry Wadsworth"

In an article published in The Church News in August,

1982, celebrating 65 years of marriage for Lois Stewart

and James Allen Wadsworth, Dad said this, "We

respect each other rights, privileges, and ambitions. We

share each other's love, joys, and sorrows."

Dad died less than a year after this article was published

and three years later, Mom went to be with him. I miss

them so much and can not wait to see them again.

How thankful I am that my Father in Heaven loved me

enough to send me to earth to this wonderful couple to

be my earthly parents and that they loved me enough

to bring me into this mortal life, born under the

covenant, and sealed to them throughout eternity.

Jennie Wadsworth Wilcox Culverwell and the Caliente Railroad Station. . . .

2010-07-30T07:24:00.000-07:00

Caliente Railroad Station

In my previous story I talked about my love and fascination for the

steam engine locomotives and how one of my favorite things to do

while I was growing up was to go to Caliente and watch them roar in

and out of the railroad station.

The station in Caliente was more than a regular railroad station. It

was a roundhouse. A roundhouse is defined by the large circular, or

semi-circular structures that are located surrounding, or adjacent

to, a locomotive turntable. The roundhouse is typically where steam

engine locomotives were maintained and stored and it housed the

repair facilities for them. A roundhouse station was always a hub of

activity. It employed the most skilled of the railroad workers.

The Caliente station was built in 1923. It was one of three or four of

the largest stations the Union Pacific Railroad had built at that time.

It was built on a grand scale. It was designed in the Mission style

using tan stucco and a lot of tile. It was two stories and housed a 50

room hotel on the second story. The hotel was very luxurious and

was generally filled to capacity. The ground level housed private

offices, a commercial center, and the railroad station offices and

ticket windows. The waiting room was spacious and comfortable.

This roundhouse was a major division point on the Union Pacific

railroad line between Los Angeles, California and Salt Lake City,

Utah. It was a main junction point for crew and equipment

changes. An additional one or two engines were usually needed

for a train to make the long pull up the steep grade between

Caliente and Salt Lake City. During World War II when so much

equipment needed to fight a war was being shipped throughout

the United States, the freight trains were so long and heavily

loaded that often three engines were needed. Also during the war,

troop trains came through Caliente day and night.

Dad's oldest sister, Jennie Wadsworth Wilcox Culverwell and her

husband Charles Culverwell, were married in Pioche, Nevada on

September 10, 1919. For most of their married life they lived in a

house which was located behind the train station. Aunt Jennie

and Uncle Charles were people of power and influence in Lincoln

County. Caliente was founded in 1901. The town was built on

land owned by William and Charles Culverwell, known as the

Culverwell Ranch, or just Culverwell. The name originally

given to the settlement was Calientes, due to the hot springs

that were present in the area. A little later, when a post office

was erected, the "s" was removed from the name and the town

became Caliente. The hot mineral springs drew celebrities

and other important people from all over and were a great

tourist attraction. They are still in use today.

They had reason to become known as a "power couple" through

out Lincoln County and the state of Nevada. Uncle Charles owned

most of the land in, and around, Caliente. He owned and operated

many of the local businesses, including a hotel, livery stable, and

the mineral hot springs. Aunt Jennie was always very active in

local and state affairs. She became the first woman in the state to

be elected to a public office and the first woman notary public in

the state. In those years, women had not yet received the franchise

to vote or run for public office. This privilege came into being at the

general election in 1915, but for the two years following, it was still

denied to them. Finally, at the general election in 1917, the women

were able to get a candidate on the ballot, and that candidate was

Aunt Jennie.

Aunt Jennie was a commanding presence. She was a large woman,

strong and tenacious as befit her "Mormon Pioneer" ancestry,

She was very pretty with a classy, regal demeanor. Many people

considered her to be quite intimidating. She loved her brother,

my father James, and she loved his wife, Lois, and their children.

I loved Aunt Jennie and if I was a little in awe of her, still I did not

let it affect the loving relationship I had with this rather severe

aunt. She was not well versed in the domestic arts and she loved

my mother's wonderful cooking. She was a regular Sunday after-

noon visitor at our home for dinner. She would arrive in her car,

always a new, top of the line, model. As she got out of her car,

she literally floated up the walk way and into the house. I always

felt like royalty had arrived. She wore the most magnificent

rings on her fingers and she talked very eloquently, using her

hands for emphasis. Without making a big show of it, she was

always the center of attention. I would sit spellboaound and with

complete fascination as I watched her beautiful hands, with all of

those pricey rings sparkling and shining, as she talked. She

always had a little lap dog and very often it would be with her.

It was exciting. It was the stuff movies were made of.

From the time I was 12, through my teen years, I often spent a

night at Aunt Jennie and Uncle Charles' home. I loved their house.

It was on a large lot surrounded by magnificent big trees and was

located behind the train station. When I stayed there, it was a

mix of pleasure and work. Aunt Jennie would buy me a ticket to

see a "show" at the Caliente Movie Theatre and make sure I had

money for a bag of popcorn and some candy. Afterwards, there

would be a stop at the Wilcox Drug Store and Ice Cream Fountain

for a malt, root beer float, or ice cream sundae. In exchange for this,

I shampooed her hair and set it in pin curls. She was very fussy

about how this was done. There had to be dozens of perfectly

placed pin curls with just a tiny lock of hair in each one. I also

cleaned the bathroom and dusted the dining and living rooms.

As I was dusting, I was expected to make order out of the chaos

created by the stacks of magazines and newspapers that were

everywhere. Aunt Jennie, being in the political lime light,

received newspapers from throughout the United States and

she subscribed to many magazines. I had to be very careful

as I was doing this task as she had many expensive figurines

and other pieces of art. It was a daunting task, but there were

rewards. I could look through weeks of the "Sunday Funnies"

and cut out the paper dolls and games. I could also take

magazines that she and Uncle Charles no longer wanted. As I

was a voracious reader, I loved this. National Geographic, Look,

and Life Magazine were my favorites. Some, we had at home.

Aunt Jennie didn't have a daughter. She had two sons with her

first husband, Frank Wilcox. He was a musician and a very

gifted violinist. While studying music in Germany, he had

abandoned his wife and two little sons. After her divorce, her

mother, my grandmother, helped raise the two little boys

while she developed her career. She and Uncle Charles had one

son. All of these cousins were much older than me. Like his

father, her oldest son Frank Wilcox, was also a very talented

musician. He served as the principal and bandmaster at

Lincoln County High School for many years. He was the

principal while all of my siblings and I attended the school.

Aunt Jennie missed not having a daughter and so she

welcomed her nieces into her home. While I was in high

school, she had a restaurant at the train station and when I

stayed at her home, another perk was to go there for a

hamburger and french fries.

But, the most wonderful perk of those visits was to stay the

night by the train station. As I lay in bed in the cozy little

bedroom Aunt Jennie always had ready for me, I could hear

my beloved steam engine locomotives rush in and out of the

station. I would hear the first whistle long before the train

reached the station and would lay transfixed as I waited for

it to roar into the station and release it's steam with a grand

"whoosh" and a clanging of bells. I would wait with eager

anticipation for it to gain another load of steam, blow the

whistle, and rush out of the station. This occurred several

times throughout the night and I never tired of it. Those

nights were not for sleeping but for day dreaming and being

immersed in a fantasy world of sights, sounds, and aromas.

With the arrival of the diesel locomotives, the mighty steam

engines were becoming obsolete. There was no longer a

need for those large roundhouse railroad stations. Most of

them were converted into museums where they housed

exhibits of local history, national history, and railroad history.

The Caliente station is now such a museum. It's glory days are

long over but it stands proudly as a symbol of the early days

of the Union Pacific Railroad. It holds a special place in my

heart and in my memories, as does the time I spent in

Caliente at my Aunt Jennie's home behind the train station

and tucked among huge trees and her wonderful lilac and

snowball bushes.

The Iron Horse. . . .A Little Girls Memories. . . .

2010-06-07T16:17:00.000-07:00

A steam engine locomotive in Nevada (Caliente?) in the mid 1930s

Chugging through a Utah landscape in the mid 1930s

Muggles wanted to go outside very early this morning. Even though

it was still dark, I went out with her and watched as she explored

every nook and cranny of the courtyard. I enjoyed the cool breeze

that was gently soothing away some of the heat of the previous

day. This is my favorite time. It is my time for reflection, my time

to explore the wonderful memories that are tucked away in my

heart.

As I sat there, I heard the OOoo ooOO of a train whistle and the

Ding-Ding-Ding of the railroad crossing bell as the gate came

down. Immediately, I was transported back to another time and

another place.

I have always been fascinated by the sights and sounds of the old

steam engine locomotives, the "Iron Horse", as they were called

when I was a child. Caliente was 15 miles from Panaca and was

home to one of the Union Pacific Round House Railroad Stations.

From the time I was a little girl, a favorite pastime was to go to

Caliente and watch those amazing steam engine locomotives

pull into the station. Even before you saw the train, you would

hear the blast of the train whistle. The whistle on the old steam

engines was called a 'mechanical bell whistle". The blast, when

the engineer blew the whistle, was a delightful sound caused by

super heated steam being forced through the smoke stack of

the locomotive. WHoOO!, and then the thunder of the wheels

as the train roared into the station. The sound is everywhere,

inside of you, outside of you. Then just for good measure, the

engineer blows the whistle again. WHoOO!

I remember being six years old and standing on the train

platform with my parents and my brother, David, who was

eight. Mom and Dad were putting us on the train to go to

Salt Lake City, Utah. We were going to stay for two weeks

with our sister, Theresa, and her husband, LeGrande.

WHoOO! The towering black and grey monster roared

into the station. The huge steel cylinders were dripping a

watery black grease and plumes of black smoke billowed

from the smoke stack. Steam hissed steadily as it rolled

to a stop. I remember jumping backwards and releasing

a long drawn out AaaaH! as I was overcome by awe and

wonder.

I watched the flurry of activity on the platform as people

rushed around; passengers collected their belongings,

stewards hurried by with baggage carts piled high with

luggage, and hugs and kisses were exchanged as loved ones

bid their goodbyes. Mom and Dad gave us into the care of

a pretty stewardess, admonished us to be good and do every

thing she asks of us, kissed us goodbye and stepped back as

the conductor called his "ALL ABoarrrD! The last

passengers hurried to board as the stewardess settled us

into a window seat facing the front of the train and pinned

tags with our name, parent's name and address, and

Theresa's name and address onto our clothes. I clutched

the cuddly rag doll mother had made for me tighter in my

arms and gazed around with wide eyes. I was actually

sitting in a passenger car pulled by one of those huge

locomotives! I will never forget the many sounds as the

engine prepared to leave the station. The passenger cars

stretched out far behind it and the conductor was now

standing on the red caboose at the end of the train.

Suddenly, WHOosh! I got goose bumps and my spine

tingled as the train started to roll forward, past the

station, and we were leaving. I looked out the window and

saw Mom and Dad smiling at us and waving. The engineer

blew the whistle, WHoOO! as the conductor signaled the

all clear. The OOoo ooOO echoed all around us and

soon all of the cars were moving. WHOompH! CLang!

CRash! ClacK - ClanK!, as the heavy engine and cars

begin to roll across the gaps between the rail sections.

Ka-WHOosh! CLang-CRash! WHOompH! And

then a steady and soothing Tick-Tickety-Tick as the

great Iron Horse picked up speed and settled into it's

traveling gait. We looked out the window in wonder as

the landscape rushed by and it seemed like we had

just began our voyage when we heard the Ding-Ding-

Ding as the crossing gate came down and we were

pulling into Modena, Utah. There were no passengers

getting off or on the train there and we were soon on our

way again. Before we even had time to think about it,

the stewardess came and got us to go to the diner car for

lunch. We felt very grown up sitting in an elegant booth

and being served by a waiter in a uniform. I don't

remember what our lunch was but I do remember that

we had ice cream for dessert.

After we settled back into our seats, David played with

the wooden train and blocks he had brought and I spent

time describing the sights rushing by the window to Dolly.

I think we both took a nap, lulled to sleep by the soothing

symphony of the train rushing along the tracks, Tick-

Tickety-Tick. After awhile the stewardess came and

told us she had a surprise for us. Holding our hands, she

walked us through the train cars until we were standing

on the observation platform of the caboose. We were

approaching the famous Horseshoe Curve built into the

tracks through one of the canyons. At a certain point,

you can see the engine with the smoke billowing from

the smoke stack, the long line of cars curving into a

graceful half circle, and the little red caboose trailing

along with jaunty flair, in one amazing picture. The

engineer blew the whistle, WHoOO! as a signal to those

who wanted to take pictures. Some sights, no matter how

young you are, you never forget, and this is one of them.

It seemed just a very short time after we returned to our

seats that the conductor came into our car and said we

were approaching the Salt Lake City station. He told all

of us to make sure we collected our belongings and to

gather up any trash we had accumulated. The stewardess

came and told David and I to remain in our seats until she

had helped the other passengers leave the train and she

would be back for us. WHoOO!, and then with a loud

CLang-CLang-CLang! WHOosh! HisssSS!, the

mighty engine rolled to a stop.

Theresa and LeGrande were waiting for us with huge

smiles on their faces. The stewardess took us to them,

checked all information and identification, told Theresa

how good we had been, hugged us and waved, as she

walked away. We went into the station and as LeGrande

left to claim our luggage, Theresa asked, "Did you have a

good trip? Was it fun? We were both talking at once as

LeGrande came with our luggage and we walked to the

car.

Suddenly, we heard ALL ABoarrD! Ka-WHOosh!

CLang! CRash! CLack-CLanK! Once again, I got

goose bumps and my spine tingled as with a last WHoOO!,

a plume of black smoke rising from the smoke stack, and a

HisssSS! of steam, the mighty Iron Horse rushed out of

the station on the way to it's next stop. For a little girl from

the tiny town of Panaca, this was a dream come true. It

had been a beautiful, wondrous day!

In the next several years, I repeated this trip two more

times. Once with David and Delores and once with Delores.

The excitement and fun of riding on the mighty Iron

Horse had not diminished at all. It was still a wondrous day!

Happy Anniversary To Us!. . . .

2010-05-24T14:24:00.000-07:00

Just a very short post to put it in writing that George and I
are celebrating our 59th wedding anniversary today.

It has been a wonderful life, a great run! It seems hard to
believe that many years have passed since the day two
barely 20 year old sweethearts stood in Mrs. Free's
beautiful yard amid a riot of beautiful flowers and said
"I Do".

There, we pledged to love, honor, and obey each other.
For all of these years, we have covered the love and honor
thing pretty faithfully. George would say that on more
than one occasion, I have failed in the obey category.
Maybe that is what has kept it interesting.

Seriously, today I have so much to thank George for.
I thank him for taking such good care of me and our
children. I thank him for the long hours he always
worked to give us beautiful homes and many things to
make our lives so much fun. I thank him for being such
a wonderful father for Paul, Rhonda, and Craig. I thank
him for being my best friend. I thank him for a broad
shoulder to cry on. I thank him for his steadfast support
even when it may not be warranted. I thank him for
making me laugh (but not always at his corny jokes.) I
thank him for putting up with all of my idiosyncrasy's
even when I know some of them drive him crazy (dolls
and bears, anyone?) I thank him for loving and honoring
my parents and loving my siblings as his own. I thank
him for his humble service to his country, his church
and his fellow men, never asking for anything in return.
I thank him for being a loving, caring, and very involved
granddad and great grandfather. I thank him for being my
own personal "Chef", more delicious meals served than
I could ever count. I thank him for indulging my silly
whims and hearts desires. These are just a few of the
hundreds and hundreds of things I wish to thank him
for.

Most of all, I thank him for loving me for all of these
many years, so Happy Anniversary, George! I love you
more than you will ever know!

The Day Dawn Is Breaking, The World Is Awaking. . . .

2010-05-16T07:43:00.000-07:00

Ina Mae Wadsworth and Nevada Deon Fisher

There is nothing more beautiful than being outside as the glory of
daybreak appears. There is nothing more magnificent than watching
dawn, the first light of day, unfold.

Very early this morning, I was watering the plants in our courtyard
and enjoying the cool gentle breeze that was stirring the leaves in the
large tree that is just outside our gate. The grackles that nest in the
tree were beginning to call to each other. I stood for a few minutes
listening and watched as the adults took flight.

I could feel the stillness of the early morning as the first light
appeared in the sky. I was thinking to myself that "nature hums as
morning comes". Two small geckos ran up the wall of the courtyard
and a humming bird darted in to taste the nectar of the oleander tree.
The blooms on my hollyhocks glistened with drops of morning dew.

I was fascinated as a hint of pink color began to appear in the sky.
The clouds were filled with pastel colors as the sun began to appear
over the horizon and tinted them with the colors of a rainbow The
early morning air was filled with the smells of a world awaking. I
stood transfixed as I listened to the plaintive call of the mourning
doves. For some reason, their call always makes me feel sad. The
first sunbeams soon added to the drama and the morning light was
shining bright at the dawning of this beautiful new day.

As I stood their marveling at the wonder of it, my mind spun back
to an early morning when I was a gloriously happy twelve year old
girl living in the beautiful little town of Panaca. Often in the late
spring as it was beginning to get warm after the long cold winter,
my best friend Nevada Deon Fisher and I would plan an early
morning hike. We were anxious to experience the beauty of nature
as it celebrated awaking to the dawn of a new season. There were
new leaves on the trees. The dormant grasses were turning green.
The annual flowers were budding. There were new babies in the
corrals and pastures.

It was a tradition of ours to take this first spring hike and cook our
breakfast outdoors. Our favorite place was a stretch of pastures
belonging to Dad and his brother, my beloved Uncle Lafe. These
pastures were located near the Spring. There was a stream running
through them and several stands of willow trees. They were beautiful
with their new leaves. We cleared an area under the trees near the
stream. We carefully selected large smooth rocks and carried them to
our cleared area where we fashioned a fire ring. We each carried a
knapsack. In our knapsacks we each carried a few matches, a
potato, an onion, one or two eggs, several slices of bacon, and some
baking powder biscuits my mother had baked for us. We had our
mess kit, a potato peeler, some cooking oil, hot chocolate mix. a little
ketchup and some jelly. One of us carried a skillet and the other
a pan for heating water.

We gathered kindling to start a fire. When it was burning, we added a
larger log or two. First we peeled and fried our potatoes and onions.
Then we cooked our bacon, saving some grease to scramble our eggs.
We laughed and talked as we cooked and ate our breakfast. We sang
at the top of our lungs. A song we loved to sing was one of the Nevada
state songs, "My Name Is Just Nevada". Instead of singing the line, "I
was born in 64" (Nevada became a state in 1864), we would sing, "I
was born in 31", (the year of our birth). Then, we would make up
words to fit the tune and sing of our adventures. Oh, we thought we
were so great!

We were always very careful to put our fire out by pouring water
from the stream over it until the coals were no longer red. We washed
our dishes in the stream and put all of our trash in a bag to take home.

We were usually cooking our breakfast as the new day dawned and the
sun came up. We watched the horned toads and lizards dart onto the
rocks to bask as the first warm sunbeams appeared. We listened to
the birds sing so beautifully in the early spring morning and the
plaintive W00-00-00-00 of the mourning doves. We laughed at the
pocket mice who began to venture out of their burrows to see if
we had left a crumb or two for them to enjoy. We hunted for four
leaf clovers and made our wishes when we found one. We watched
the horses and cattle waking up in the pastures. We picked our first
bouquets of wild flowers to take home to our mothers.

We were young! We were happy! We were best friends forever, and
we were "Growing Up Ina and Nevada" in our beautiful little "heaven
on earth", Panaca!

A bit Of Woolworth Trivia. . . .

2010-03-21T05:22:00.000-07:00

Salt Lake City and the Magleby family were a central part of my
story about F. W. Woolworth Co. After reading the story, Bruce,
the youngest of the children of LeGrande and Theresa, replied
with this interesting bit of Woolworth trivia. He was not yet born
when I was living with his parents in 1949 and 1950 and so was
not a part of the story. However, the Woolworth tradition of the
family's shopping there, obviously continued after his birth.

I thought the family would be interested in reading it and decided
that instead of posting it as a comment to my story, Iwould share
it with you.

Hello Aunt Ina and Uncle George,

I liked reading your latest blog about Woolworths. I sure did like
checking out the menu.

From age 9 to 13, I worked as a janitor before and after school at
my elementary school. I made $40.00 a month, about 80 cents
an hour. I thought I was rich. I guess I was since prices were so
low. Those were the days, they were simpler. Today, you have
to be 14 to even have the janitor helper job. At age 9, I was plenty
capable to handle the job. Brandon had the same job a few years
ago and the school takes it so serious now, it is sad.

In the third grade or so, my parents bought me a Schwin three
speed bike. I wanted to ride it to school, but was afraid it would
get stolen. My dad and I went to Woolworths and picked out a
combination lock so I could lock up my new bike. I was afraid I
would forget the combination so my Dad and I checked out many
different locks and found one with an easy combination to remember.
It was 36-6-16.

Love,
Bruce

Memories of F. W. Woolworth Co. . . . .

2010-03-10T05:32:00.000-08:00

A 1957 Menu from F. W. Woolworth Co - My generation's fast food!
If any of you have any doubt about what we paid for a coke and a
sandwich at Woolworth's in the 1950's, here's proof of the era we
lived in.

A friend sent this to me and the memories it brought to mind are
so wonderful and in such vivid detail that I decided to write about
them.

Woolworth's was the most well know of those glorious five and ten
cent stores that delighted children and adults of all ages. My first
memory of shopping at a five and ten cent store was when I visited
my sister, Theresa, in Salt Lake City in the 1930s. In was so
exciting for a child to go into a store where they could purchase a
treasure for just a few cents. It was so difficult to make a decision
with so many wonderful items on display. Often Delores, David and
I were all visiting her at the same time. She would take us to shop
at the huge Woolworth store downtown where she would wait
patiently for us to decide how we were going to spend our dimes,
nickles, and pennies. We would then stop at the lunch counter
and soda fountain and she would treat us to an ice cream sundae,
float, or malt.

Later, in 1949 and 1950 when I was living in Salt Lake City with
Theresa and LeGrande, F. W. Woolworth Co. was a very important
part of my life. As I have mentioned in previous stories, I was
working at Bekins Freight Line to earn money to pay my tuition at
the LDS Business College and have orthodontics done to straighten
my teeth. My orthodontist, Dr. Chase, had his office downtown near
Temple Square. Bekins was on the other side of town. I would make
my appointments for late afternoon when I finished work and ride
the bus from there to downtown. Woolworth's was near Dr. Chase's
office. I soon found out that after he adjusted my braces my
mouth would be too sore to eat. I began to allow myself time to stop
there for a quick bite to eat. I would order my favorite egg salad
sandwich and a chocolate malt. Sometimes if I was feeling rich, I
loved the bacon and tomato sandwich. I carried my toothbrush in my
purse and after eating, would run into the restroom and brush my
teeth before heading for Dr. Chase's office.

My two little nephews, Jimmy and Karl, loved to ride the bus. I
often took them downtown for a trip to the zoo or to spend some
of their allowance at Woolworth's. I remember during the Christmas
season of 1949 when Jimmy was eight and Karl was 6, they wanted
to go Christmas shopping to buy presents for their parents and their
baby sister, Lois Marie. So on a cold and snowy day, they put on their
snow boots, scarves, hats, and gloves and we rode the bus downtown
to the Woolworth store. They very carefully chose gifts for their
parents and then agonized for a very long time over which stuffed
animal to buy for Lois Marie. They were buying it together and so
had to agree, which didn't prove to be an easy thing. I don't recall
what they finally decided on. After they finished shopping, we went
to the lunch counter where they ordered the hot chocolate with lots
of whipped cream and sugar wafers.

When George and I were first married and he was in the Navy, we
lived in a darling apartment on Fourth Ave. in Hillcrest, a suberb
of San Diego. Each Saturday when he did not have duty, we would
ride the bus to downtown San Diego and get off on Broadway near
the old Horton Plaza. We would walk the short distance to a cleaners
where for $1.50, the sailor boys could have their uniforms cleaned
and pressed. While we were waiting for them, if we had the money,
we would go to a movie at the theater in the Plaza. More often, we
sat at the fountain in the Plaza and watched the people and all of the
weekend activities, or just walked Broadway window shopping. We
always stopped at Woolworth's for an ice cream treat before riding
the bus back to Hillcrest. I always had a chocolate malt or a chocolate
ice cream soda. George's favorite was the super jumbo banana split.
Those were wonderful days. We were so happy we didn't realize how
little money we had, we were just enjoying our life together.

In the 1960's, we were living in El Cajon, California. Paul, Rhonda,
and Craig loved to go to downtown San Diego. Whatever we chose to
do that day, we often ended it with a stop at Woolworth's. They
loved to shop there where they could find so many bargains to spend
their allowance. They always wanted to get a treat at the soda
fountain when they were through shopping. If it was was winter,
like Jimmy and Karl before them, they loved the hot chocolate
It was still served the same way, with lots of whipped cream and
those wonderful sugar wafers. In the summer, they all wanted an
ice cream soda. Like his father, Paul also liked the banana split
and Rhonda and Craig liked the de luxe tulip sundaes. I think they
liked them because they were served in the cute tulip shaped dishes.

Yes, Woolworth's was an important part of my life from the time I
was a little girl. I had the pleasure of sharing it's excitement with
my wonderful big sister, little nephews, my handsome sailor
husband and then my own children. I was sad when they began to
close them. That wonderful era of those glorious "Five and Ten
Cent Stores" was at an end, but I am grateful to have been able
to experience it.

In the 1950s, Bing Crosby sang a song whose lyrics went like this:

"It was a lucky April shower, it was the most convenient door,
I found a million dollar baby, in a five and ten cent store.
The rain continued for an hour, I hung around for three or four,
Around a million dollar baby in a five and ten cent store."

I would love to hear comments of your memories of shopping
and eating at F. W. Woolworth Co. or any of the other glorious
five and ten cent stores.

Muggles is Five. . . .

2010-01-29T14:10:00.000-08:00

I've been a good girl. Do I get a birthday present?

What's in here?

A bear and some cookies! Yummm! I'll eat first!

This is my biggest bear so far.

Oh Boy, Oh Boy, it has five sqeakers!

Mom says I better not rip them out!

Muggles celebrated her 5th birthday this month. We took these

pictures of her as she opened her gift. She loved her new bear

but being the chowhound she is, momentarily pushed it aside while

she ate her frosted cookies. Then, it was back to her new bear.

"Wow", she said, "I have never had a toy with five squeakers!"

It doesn't seem possible that it has been almost five years since

Muggles came to live with us when she was just a tiny puppy.

When I first started my search for a Norfolk Terrier puppy, I

had no idea it would be so difficult to find one, and if I did, how

in the world could I convince George that I needed one. And,

if I could convince him, how could we afford one?

The first thing I would do each morning is check all of the ads

featuring dogs for sale on the Internet. On February 16, 2005,

I found an ad posted my Missy StCyr in Baton Rouge, La. She

had two Norfolk puppies for sale, a male and a female. Since

these dogs would have no breeding rights, she was selling for

a reasonable price. Still expensive, but one I thought I could

convince George we could afford. Since my pleading, whining,

and tears were beginning to get on his nerves, he finally

agreed that I needed my own little Norfolk.

That battle won, next I had to convince Missy that out of the

eleven families who wanted a puppy, George and I were the

most deserving. I lobbied hard to convince her, all of it done

by e-mail. At that time, we were visiting in Panaca and Cedar

City, so I was using Pete and Delores' and Justin's computers.

I had lots of good help and suggestions. Lisa was at her parents

home and Paul and Joanne were also in Cedar City. Lisa

answered a couple of e-mails when I was not available and put

in a good word for me, and Justin did the same in Cedar City.

I swamped Missy with stories of all of the dogs in my life from

the time I was a little girl, and about the dogs in my children's

lives as they were growing up and after they married and

established their own homes.

On March 6th, it was official. Missy notified me that she had

chosen George and I to have a puppy. She told me later that

I was a good storyteller and her decision to pick us was based

in large part on those stories. I wanted the female but she

told me that a woman had put a deposit on a puppy before I

contacted her and so she would get first choice. Fortunately,

her sons and husband wanted a male dog which Paula named

Paddington. That meant I had achieved my heart's desire, a

beautiful little red Norfolk female puppy. Missy had kept the

third puppy from the litter, a female she named Isabella.

That took us to the finale hurdle. . . .how to get her to Mesa

from Baton Rouge. Missy refused to fly her cargo and so

George got an early morning flight for Tuesday, April 13th,

met Missy at the airport, picked up Muggles and flew right

back to Phoenix.

And, the rest is history. We have been completely captivated

by this sweet, loving, bossy, sassy, funny, and mischievous

little dog. She weaves her spell on most of those who meet

her. We are very fortunate and very grateful to have her in

our lives. Happy 5th birthday, Muggles! We love you!

Okay!

That was fun!

A Special Tribute to Daisy and Samburu. . . .

2010-01-18T11:59:00.000-08:00

I want one of my first posts of 2010 on Growing Up Ina to be a
tribute to two of my long time friends and animal co-workers at
the Phoenix Zoo.

I love the time I spend educating the public about the animals on
the African Savanna. It is my favorite place at the zoo. It is
wonderful to be able to observe so many different species of
animals living together in perfect harmony, each faithfully doing
their part to preserve and enrich this beautiful habitat. So, it is
with great sadness that I said goodbye to two of the savanna's
long time residents.

Daisy, the Eland, affectionately known as Daisy-Do by her keepers
and the rest of us who worked alongside of her, passed away on
Halloween. Daisy was dearly loved by all of us at the zoo who
interacted with her in our various capacities of caring for, playing
with, and talking about; the vets, vet techs, keepers, managers,
experience staff, rangers, and volunteers.

Daisy had a sweet personality. She followed her keepers around
like a puppy. She was very inquisitive and always wanted to
know what was going on. Her personal keeper referred to this
inquisitive nature as bordering on being downright nosey. Her
favorite thing to do was to smash the pumpkins that are trad-
itionally put out on the savanna each Halloween to introduce
Boo At The Zoo. She would run as fast as she could from one
pumpkin to the next smashing them with her head. She had it
down pat and seemed to be saying, "Ha, I am going to smash
all of them before the rest of you have a chance."

The curtain for the show rose a little late this year. The pumpkins
were out for the opening number with the giraffe stomping, herd
chomping, and elands smashing their pumpkins in joyful abandon
while the hoof stock trail was saying goodbye to Daisy for the
last time.

The hoof stock keepers said, "Daisy has left us to smash pumpkins
on the great savanna in the sky. We honor her and those who
came before by continuing on with the show. They say, "The show
must go on and Daisy-Do would have enjoyed the show!"

The zoo's male reticulated giraffe, Samburu, better known as Sam
to fit his "good ole boy" image, was found dead in his stall in the
early morning of January 4th. It was said that it looked as if he
went peacefully to join Daisy on that great savanna in the sky.

Sam was 19. He was just a calf when I began volunteering and
was always one of my very favorite animal co-workers. He and I
watched together as the Phoenix Zoo grew into the world class
zoo it is today. I watched him mature into the magnificent bull
giraffe that he became. I remember how joyful and proud he
seemed when the savanna was enlarged and became the focal
point of the Africa Trail.

Sam had a great personality. He was very mischievous and
curious following his keepers around while pressing his nose
into their backs or bending his long neck down to rest his head
on their shoulder, adding a playful nip now and again. He
loved to eat. He was so interested in the new feeders when
they were put on the savanna. He would stand quietly and
watch them being lowered and raised. He didn't like to bend his
neck to eat but waited until the feeder was at it's highest so he
could stretch to his full 16+ feet to eat. He loved the new Giraffe
Encounter. He was always there even before the volunteers
rang the bell to let him and the four females giraffe know that
their adoring fans were waiting. With his 18" prehensile tongue,
velvet muzzle, and twitching ears, he always made sure that
they got the most from their $3.00. He was a true ham and
seemed to enjoy every bit of the adoration given him by those
who gave him treats. At the end of the hour, he was always
the last to leave.

Sam had been having some health issues for a few months but
seemed happy and didn't let it diminish his joy and love of life.
At age 19, he outlived most bull giraffe in captivity by a couple
of years. He sired eight calves. One of his daughters is a part
of the herd on the savanna. Others live in zoos throughout the
United States and as far away as Russia.

The hoof stock keepers said of him, "We will miss Sam, but we
honor him by ensuring that his spirit and genes will live on to
inspire and educate guests around the world.

Today, I pay my personal tribute to Sam and Daisy-Do and
thank them for letting me share in their remarkable lives.

Goodbye, old friends, I will miss you!

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

2009-12-30T09:27:00.001-08:00

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. . . .

2009-12-29T15:28:00.000-08:00

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. . . .

2009-12-27T16:50:00.000-08:00

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. . . .

2009-12-16T08:48:00.000-08:00

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. . . .

2009-12-01T08:23:00.000-08:00

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. . . .

2009-11-26T08:00:00.000-08:00

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. . . .

2009-10-24T03:49:00.000-07:00

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?!!. . . .

2009-10-20T13:35:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-13T14:22:00.000-07:00

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 . . . .

2009-09-24T08:04:00.000-07:00

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 . . . .

2009-09-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

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 . . . .

2009-08-16T09:17:00.000-07:00

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 . . . .

2009-08-15T17:13:00.000-07:00

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.

A Beautiful Dog Park Morning . . . .

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

We went to the dog park this morning.

This is Muggles with Emily, an Irish Wolfhound. Emily is very
old, very sweet, and very gentle. She is too old to go in with the
rowdy big dogs and so her owner brings her into the
small dog area along with his two Bedlington Terriers.

Just like she did with Grady, the Great Dane, Muggles really
loves this "gentle giant."

Six weeks ago, Muggles and I were delighted to meet a
woman at the park with a Norwich puppy. Her name
is Dora, and she is adorable.

She is the first Norfolk or Norwich Terrier that we have
met since Muggles came to live with us. Since then, at
the new grooming salon that Dora's mom sent us to,
we have met two more Norwich's, but have yet to
meet another Norfolk.

Muggles and Dora seem to recognize that they are the same
kind of little dogs and always greet each other with
a lot of excitement.

Dora is a lively, fiesty little puppy and she wears Muggles out.

I wish you could see Dora with her prick ears erect, she is
beautiful. When she is playing, she lays them flat.

Ears are a big thing with her. She loves to chew on Muggles'
ears. I don't think Muggles appreciates it, but she is
good natured about it.

I posted this picture out of order, it should have been
first. This is how Muggles looked this morning after I
brushed her teeth and combed her for her trip to the park.

She seems to know the mornings I am getting us ready to
go to the park and she can hardly contain her joy.

It was a nice morning at Quail Run!

These pictures are my first attempt with the new camera
George got for me to replace the one I broke at the
reunion (the second camera I have broken at a reunion).
And yes, Paul, Joanne, Rhonda, and just about everyone
else, I did keep those little strapies around my wrist!

A Brother's Love. . . .

2009-05-14T11:06:00.001-07:00

This picture of me was taken at the beginning of my freshman year in high school. It was just a few months before the Harvest Ball, my first formal dance.

The picture of Leo in his Air Force uniform shows the proud, brave, and handsome young man he was when he was my date for the Ball.

The picture of Doc shows a much loved and played with symbol of a brother's love for his little sister. He forever reminds me of the wonderful day Delores and I spent with our big brother when we were little girls.

After I posted the story, "My Cinderella Ball Gown", I was talking to my brother Leo, who was a major player in the story. I asked him if he remembered that night. He said, "Very well. I remember how happy I was to be home and how proud I was to escort my little sister to the ball, and what a wonderful night it was." He told me he would like to add an addendum to the story.

He said, "Since I chose to take you to the ball instead of having a formal date, I was a person of interest to many of the people who were there. Bob Dotson was one of them. Bob was older than me but we were good friends. We had played ball together and worked side by side in other Panaca activities. While you were dancing with some of the young men, he came to me and said he had noticed that I did not have a formal date. He said his wife's two sisters were visiting and he wanted them to have a good time and wondered if I would be willing to help him out. He took me to the table where they were sitting and introduced me to them. They were both very pretty girls. In fact, Carma was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. Dancing with her and her sister and watching you so happy and having such a wonderful time, made it a very special night for me. I had several dates with Eleanor before I went away again and in later years, I was able to introduce her to Kathy."

Then he said, "I don't know if you and Delores ever really knew how much I loved my little sisters." I told him that I certainly did know and thought I could speak for Delores as well. I told him that many of my most special memories are examples of that love. I said that every day I walk by my doll cabinet many times and look at my beautiful dolls. I always smile when I see "Doc" from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, gazing back at me. I love him! He is 69 years old and brings to mind a favorite memory of a brother's love for his two little sisters.

When Leo was getting ready to go to Provo to attend BYU, I was devastated. After he left, Delores and I went to Salt Lake to visit our sister, Theresa. I was not quite nine and Delores was almost seven. I guess Leo knew how much we missed him and perhaps he was missing us, too. He arranged with Theresa to have us in Provo for a day. And what a day! It proved to be one of the most exciting days in my young life! He had planned a day to delight any little sister. Shirley Temple's new movie, "The Bluebird of Happiness" had just came out. He took us to an early showing where we feasted on popcorn and candy. As he was buying it for us, he was admonishing us 'not to get sick'! After the movie, we went to an ice cream parlor where he treated us to chocolate malts. It was so much fun to sit on the stools in that delightful little sidewalk cafe. If it had ended there, it would have been perfect, but he wasn't done yet. He took us to a toy store and told us we could pick out a doll. We each picked out Doc. Mine is dressed in a green and orange velvet outfit and Delores' is in the same outfit in pink and lavender. I think it is interesting that even as little girls we chose the colors that would define our personalities throughout our lives; the colors of autumn for me and summer for Delores.

From there, we went back to the apartment he was sharing with our cousin, Don Wadsworth. Don was there with his girlfriend, and future wife, Sylvia Hinkley, sister to President Hinkley. They fixed us a gourmet dinner; hot dogs with all of the trimmings. Sylvia and Don both had beautiful singing voices. There was a piano there. I remember Sylvia playing the piano and she and Don singing. It was a wonderful day! When Delores' stomach rebelled from all of the good stuff we had eaten throughout the day and she threw up, Leo did not even hesitate. He consoled her and didn't even grimace as he cleaned it up. How many big brothers would do that? When Theresa came to pick us up at the end of the day, two sleepy and happy little girls were still reveling in the joy of that wonderful day.

I was sad and frightened when Leo had to go into the service during World War II. I worried about him constantly. When his cousins, who were also his childhood playmates and best friends, LeRoy Wadsworth and Leslie Mathews, were killed in action in the war, my worry reached the panic stage. Even during this time, Leo remembered a little sister. On two different birthdays while he was away, I received a gift, both of which I still have. One was a gold, heart shaped locket with the Air Force Insignia on it. The other was a pin of Air Force wings, which I pinned on my coat and wore continuously until he returned home.

These later events led up to that wonderful night when Leo was my date for the Harvest Ball portrayed in the story "My Cinderella Ball Gown".

A point of interest to this story. Carma, the beautiful girl Leo danced with the night he took me
to the ball, in 1946 married George's oldest brother, Alfred.

Miss me while I'm gone. . . .

2009-05-08T04:56:00.000-07:00

To those of you who check my blog, George is taking my computer in to Data Doctor today and then it should be back to business as usual, with pictures and everything. In the meantime, I have missed not being able to keep the stories going. I have especially missed being able to post pictures.

Indiana Brexton. . . .

2009-04-24T10:03:00.000-07:00

This is a picture George tooled and painted in leather of Brexton. He took it from a picture of him and changed the jacket and shoes to make him into a little Indiana Brexton.

We are having trouble posting pictures on my blog. When Data Doctors put my new computer together some months back, he thinks they did not program Windows Messenger into it. George posted this onto my blog from his computer as a test to see if his theory is correct.

I think the picture turned out so cute that I decided to turn this test into a post and make it part of my blog. We love our four great grandchildren, Cote, Brexton, Nixin, and Ethan so much and derive so much pleasure from sharing the special events in their lives; Brexton's T-Ball, quiet sweetness, and the hilarious things he says, Cote's wonderful Baptism, love of reading, and baseball talent, Ethan's first birthday, first steps, and his go for it happy personality, Princess Nixin's smiles. coos, and all of her adorable outfits and head bands. The little children are what gives our life purpose.

George also recently did a picture in leather of Ethan from a photo Jeni (his mom) sent us. We tried to post it but have had no luck so far.