Indiana Brexton. . . .

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.

My Cinderella Ball Gown. . . .

It was a beautiful fall day in 1945. I was happy! I was excited! I felt good about myself as I
dashed like a leggy young gazelle out the front gates of Lincoln County High School. I started
home at a speed Coach Hutchison would love to see on the football field.

Life was wonderful! It was a magical time! I loved being in high school. I loved the new 'grown
up' feeling it gave me. I loved the hustle and bustle of a new routine. In fact, I loved everything
about it; the buses arriving from Caliente and Pioche, the clang of locker doors, rushing up and down stairs to class, Boys!, the sounds of them practising on the football field. Maybe some of them had noticed me. I had certainly noticed some of them.

Today was especially exciting. The school was abuzz with preparations for the Harvest Ball. It
was the first big dance of the year, and my first formal ball! I could hardly contain myself as I
ran home. Surely, nothing could stop me from going.

As I got closer to home, I slowed my pace and some of my enthusiasm seemed to melt away.
Wanda already had her ball gown. Her big sister had helped her pick it out at Leader's in
Pioche. They said it was beautiful. Ruby had hers. Her mother had taken her to Cedar City to get it. They said it was very expensive. But then, weren't all of Ruby's clothes very expensive. Even Shirley had hers. They had ordered it from the Montgomery Ward catalog. It looked
pretty in the catalog. Maybe I would go to her home today to see it.

I didn't have my gown, but I knew what I wanted my very first ball gown to look like. And most of all, I wanted it to be a real 'store bought' gown. I had some beautiful clothes, but I didn't
have many store bought ones. I knew why, and I understood. World War II had just ended and I had brothers and sisters who also needed clothes. And, Mother could sew. She was an artist with her Singer treadle sewing machine. "Why don't you look through the wishbooks, Ina, and if
you find something you like, we'll make it."

We received both the Montgomery Ward and Sears and Roebuck catalogs. Mother had always
preferred Sears but I thought Montgomery Wards was more exciting. It was larger and had
more colored pages. And so, I would look until I found a dress or a skirt and blouse I liked. We would go to Pioche or Caliente to find 'just the right material', and then Mother's magic would begin. Before I knew it, there would be my new clothes just like the picture. Only later in my life would I realize that the clothes were more beautiful than the pictures because of the love and
sacrifice of time, in the stitches that sewed them together.

I had slowed to a snail's pace as I stepped up onto the porch and called for Mother. When she answered, I saw that she and Dad were working outside. They were clearing out the last of the
garden. It was getting cold and they were trying to harvest what vegetables they could before it froze. It was hard work and they had a lot to do, but they stopped to say hello and ask me about my day and what was happening at school.

I tried to be enthusiastic as I talked about the ball. I felt guilty when I realized they really were interested. As I was not yet old enough to date, my handsome big brother was going to be my
escort for the ball. I thought Leo was the greatest and the most handsome. It was a loving
and unselfish thing for him to do. After all, he was an Air Force pilot and there were many girls he could have taken who would have been in seventh heaven to go to the ball with a
dashing Air Force pilot who had served his country so bravely during the war. I was happy
and had convinced myself that it didn't matter that Wanda and Shirley had been allowed to accept dates at age fourteen. My day would come and it would be right.

I mentioned to Mother that we needed to be thinking about my gown as most of my friends
already had theirs. Then she said what I had been expecting and dreading, "Why don't you look through the wishbooks, Ina? Find a formal that you like and we'll make it this week." I just couldn't do it! This time I couldn't get excited about looking at a picture and trying to find the material to turn it into reality. For my first formal ball gown, I wanted the excitement of going
to one of the big department stores to purchase it.

Mother asked me several times in the next few days if I had found a gown I liked and when I told her no, she asked me if I knew what I wanted it to look like. "I know I want a gown that glitters and shines, with a full skirt that stands way out", I said. She didn't say anything else.

I walked into the house several days before the Ball. It was quiet, but I could hear Mother moving around in the back bedroom. Then I heard a rustling of paper, and she called, "Ina, come in here." As I walked through the door, I saw a large box on the bed. It stated that it was from 'Auerbachs'. I was intrigued and excited! I could see layers and layers of white tissue paper. "I had some formals sent to us on approval. Why don't you look at them and see if there is something you like. We have to return the others right away", Mother said.

I couldn't believe it! It was my dream come true. My ball gown was going to be a real 'store bought' formal. Not from Pioche or Cedar City. Not from a catalog, but from Auerbachs in Salt Lake City. Reverently unfolding the layers of tissue paper, I took out a beautiful pink gown. It had a scoop neck and a tiny wisp of a sleeve. Mother said the material was tulle. The skirt was tulle over a darker pink organza. It was magnificent! I tried it on and then laid it on the bed. I then lifted a yellow gown from the tissue paper. "Pretty, but plain", I thought. I didn't notice that the skirt was two layers of sheer silk chiffon over a deeper, rich yellow satin. I just saw that it wasn't stiff and didn't stand way out. That it brushed the floor with a light and fluffy elegance made no impression on me. I didn't notice that the bodice with it's demure heart shaped neckline was softly shirred into tiny parallel rows of gathers along the shoulders where they were caught in the sleeves. "Plain sleeve", I thought, "they are neither long nor short." Nor did I notice that the bodice from the shoulder to where the slightly dropped waist gently curved into a soft point in front, was smocked into an intricate honeycomb of soft, light and airy puffs, and that it fit me to perfection in all of the right places. "Nice, but it doesn't glitter or shine", I thought.

Gently, I lifted the last dress from the tissue paper that was holding it so lovingly, and gazed at it in awe. It was my formal! My Cinderella Ball Gown! Blue taffeta that hung crisply and stood way out. Puffy sleeves, slightly off the shoulders. And, it glittered! Rhinestones, dozens of them, glittering and shining everywhere. I had made my choice. I tried it on. Mother said I looked beautiful. "We'll fold the others and you can take them to the Post Office before it closes", she said.

I was in heaven as we started to fold the dresses. Then I saw the price tag on the pink tulle. I was shocked! It was expensive. If it cost that much, how much was the blue taffeta with it's full skirt and rhinestones? Reluctantly, I looked at the price tag on My Cinderella Gown and my dream was shattered. Mother and Dad couldn't afford that dress. I also knew that they would buy it for me anyway, and that they would be happy for me. There were times in my life when I had been selfish, but for reasons I did not understand, this time I could not put them in that position. As I looked at the price tag on the yellow dress, I realized that even though it was still expensive, without all of the adornments, it was priced less than the other two. I was sure Mother saw me look at the price tags, but she didn't say anything when I told her that I had changed my mind. I told her I was sure the yellow dress was a more flattering color for me (it was) and fit me better than the other two (it did). She asked me if I was sure, and when I said I was, she hung it on the closet door. I folded up the pink formal and my blue Cinderella Ball Gown and went to the Post Office.

As I went to bed that night, I kissed Mother and Dad. I was disappointed and yet I felt good. However, I think Mother saw a daughter whose dream had just been shattered, but being wise,
realized I had made a decision that would strengthen me and help me to mature.

I woke in the early morning before it was light. Through sleepy eyes, I saw a light in the little kitchen and heard Mother working quietly as she did her early morning chores. I wondered why she was up so early. Even for her, this was early. It couldn't be 5:00 yet. I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head, trying not to feel guilty. Usually, I would have been able to go back to sleep without feeling a twinge of guilt. Not this time. For some reason, I groaned and turned toward the kitchen. Maybe Mother needed help. Then I saw my ball gown. It had been carefully pressed and was hanging on the closet door. "It really is nice", I thought, "but wait, what is that?" In the softly muted light, I saw them, dozens of tiny luminous seed pearls shining with a burnished lustrous glow from where they had been gently and perfectly placed among the honeycomb of soft puffs. How many hours during the long cold night had a mother spent lovingly stitching her daughter's dream back together?

I left my warm bed and brushed my hand over the pearls as I walked into the kitchen. Did I say anything? Did Mother? I don't remember, but I will always remember the smile and the twinkle in her eyes as she looked at me.

The gymnasium looked fantastic! It had been transformed into a wondrous magic kingdom fit for a princess. Wanda was beautiful and I felt a tiny stab of envy when I saw her with her date, but she was my friend. She was right, her dress was beautiful and it was perfect for her. I could see that Ruby's dress was very expensive. It was very lovely and so was she. Shirley looked pretty. "Her dress is right for her", I thought as she flashed her special smile at me.

And, my Cinderella Ball Gown? It was breathtaking and I felt beautiful! Leo told me that, indeed, I did look beautiful and the boys were sure to notice. As we entered, they handed Leo our dance cards. How excited I was as several boys, including the Prince Charming who was the subject of all of my dreams, came to choose a dance and put their name on my dance card.

Leo looked so handsome in his uniform. Tonight we would forget the war and the combat missions flown in Italy. He was safe! He was home! As he swept me onto the floor for the first dance, I could feel the smooth rich touch of satin against my legs and the soft whisper of chiffon billowing gently and gracefully as we circled the room to a beautiful waltz. Glancing down, I saw the soft burnished glow of pearls. They seemed to glow brighter as they smiled lovingly up at me, and I basked warm and secure in that love.

Ina Mae Wadsworth

Thunder and Lightning, AKA, Popeye and Wimpy. . . .

I recently learned that Thunder and Lightning, the beloved wild burros that the children of
Panaca loved, cared for, and played with for so many years, were leading a double life.

I have related in my stories of these little burros wandering the hills, canyons, washes, and meadows between Pioche and Panaca where they sought shelter and foraged for food. They often wandered into town and at some point were given the names Thunder and Lightning. The
children watched for them during the cold winters and if they didn't come into town, they would search for them and bring them home where they would have food and shelter.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my sister, Delores and brother-in-law, Peter Horlacher, about the little burros. Pete grew up in Pioche. He told me that the little burros would also wander into Pioche. The children of Pioche named them Popeye and Wimpy. Like the children of Panaca,
they would catch them, feed them, and ride and play with them.

Pioche's main street was lined with places of business; stores, restaurants, bars, and at least two hotels. The little burros, Popeye and Wimpy, would stroll up and down the street getting into mischief and becoming a nuisance to the proprietors of the businesses. The sheriff would then catch them, load them into a truck, and drive them out of town where he would release them in the hills. Sometimes, it would be months before they again came into town.

I didn't know this as a child. When Pete first told me, the child in me felt sad, then I found myself feeling betrayed and even became angry. I didn't want to share them. How could they do this when the children of Panaca loved them so much and considered them their own?
Didn't they know they had a home in Panaca? But as an adult, I was finally able to remember that these little burros were wild and roamed free. No one owned them. They owed us no allegiance. They willingly accepted our love and care when it was needed, but they belonged to the wild country through which they roamed. Having the children of Pioche loving them,
too, helped keep them safe and made their lives even easier.

Like Pete said, "These little burros, whether called Thunder and Lightning or Popeye and Wimpy, were an important part of the history of our little towns." I want to add that they were "a beloved part of the heritage of both the children of Panaca and the children of Pioche." And so, this story needed to be told.

I do believe, however, that emotionally they were more a part of the landscape of Panaca than that of Pioche. Even though our main street wasn't lined with places of business, it did have several and as far as I know, the little burros were never considered a nuisance. It is also important to know that our sheriff NEVER hauled them out of town.

Life In A Small Town. . . .

The Million Dollar Courthouse
built in 1871 is now a museum.

This courthouse was built
in the late 1930s and is
where I worked.
It is still in use today.






There is something very special about living in a small town.
The camaraderie among the residents encompasses all ages.
The friendships that are established extend back through
many generations. Your best friend, was in all probability,
the daughter or son of your parents best friend, whose
parents were also best friends.

Panaca was the first permanent settlement in Southern
Nevada. Her founding fathers were Mormon pioneers and
their posterity continued on to play major roles in it's history.
As I could trace my genealogy back to Panaca's first settlers,
so could many of those who were by best friends as I was
growing up. Even today, many of the residents of Panaca are
direct ancestors of those original settlers.The beautiful little
towns of Caliente, Pioche, and Alamo, are the other major
towns in Lincoln County. Like Panaca, my life and the lives
of my family, were also entwined with the lives of the residents
of those towns. Thinking about the people mentioned in the
story I posted of the events leading to mine and George's
wedding, a multitude of memories were brought to mind.
My boss in that story, Esther Rollins, the Lincoln County
Clerk, had great admiration and respect for my father.
She often told me that he was her mentor and instilled
within her a desire to make Lincoln County a better place
to live. Before I left for Salt Lake City after my graduation,
she told me that if I did well in my studies at the LDS
Business College, when I came home she would try and get
me a position in her office.

Esther lived in Pioche. Her two sons, Jim and Jack Rollins,
went to Lincoln County High School with me. They were a
year ahead of me. Jack, especially, was a good friend of mine.
George played football with them, and we shared other
school activities. Jack was a pilot in the navy and an officer.
During the Vietnamese War, he was held as a prisoner of
war for four or five years. We were living in El Cajon,
California at that time. I will never forget the morning I
was watching television and the news showed a number of
released POWs stepping of a military plane and walking
down the tarmac. One of them was Jack. Lincoln County
welcomed home a hero and those of us who lived away
rejoiced with them. His picture hangs in the courthouse
of my story.

I have previously written that I was often called to assist
in the District Attorney's office when Esther could spare
me. Dolores Werber was DA Roscoe Wilkes secretary.
When depositions were being taken, extra help was needed.
Dolores was two years older than me and was in my brother
David's class. She was a happy, laughing girl, a prankster,
affectionately called Dee Dee by her family and friends. She
was very intelligent and committed to her studies.I looked
up to her. She was one of the original members of the newly
established Tocahadode Commercial Club at Lincoln High
and during her senior year she was elected it's president.
She encouraged me to study hard and improve my skills in
typing, shorthand, business machines and all other studies
associated with the commercial department. When I was
a senior, I was elected president of the club and I gave
Dee Dee a lot of credit for that. She continued to mentor me
when I began my job at the courthouse. When I would be
"quaking in my boots" and dreading another confrontation
with the DA, and the terror of being called to take another
important deposition, she was always there to calm me and
laugh away my fears. She would assure me that beneath his
demeanor as the stern DA, Roscoe was a big Teddy Bear, an
image I was never able to bring to mind when thinking
about him!

DA Roscoe's sister, Kathryn Wilkes, was one of my favorite
high school teachers. She taught commercial classes and was
also an advisor to the Tocahadode Commercial Club. She
remained a caring friend to me after I graduated. And so, in
yet another way, our everyday lives were forever entwined.

The Werbers had lived in both Pioche and Panaca. Dee Dee's
mother, Lydia, was an amazing woman. She was a little woman
with a huge singing voice, a beautiful pure contralto. For those
of you who are not familiar with a woman's contralto singing
voice, it has the lowest range of all of the women's voices. It
is equal to the men's counter tenor singing range. It was
thrilling to hear her sing. When this little woman would begin
to sing, those listening were equally amazed and thrilled. As
often as I heard her sing, the first notes of a song never ceased
to astound me. After all of these years, I still get goose bumps
thinking about it. She was very modest of her talent, never
seeking the spotlight, even though she was widely coveted as
a soloist. While talking to Pete and Delores recently, I asked
them to verify several bits of information I was going to use
in this post. While talking about Lydia, they told me a
wonderful story about her. She was visiting family in Las Vegas
and some of them went to dinner at the Olive Garden
Restaurant. The strolling musician was playing his accordion
and entertaining the patrons as they dined. As he was playing
the song, "Somewhere My love". without rising from her chair,
Lydia spontaneously began to sing to his music. Everyone
stopped eating and listened, enthralled. It was said that the
standing ovation she received was long and enthusiastic.

Speaking of the District Attorney's office brought to mind my
family's involvement with that office. My Uncle Frank, one of
dad's older brothers, Franklin Ernest Wadsworth, was elected
District Attorney of Lincoln County in 1920 and held that
position for sixteen consecutive years. During that time, he
handled between 125 and 130 felony cases and with the
cooperation of his fellow officers, got the evidence needed to
obtain guilty pleas in all but ten cases.

My brother, James Leo Wadsworth, served several times as
District Attorney. During the 31 years he practiced law in Las
Vegas, he served as non-resident District Attorney in Goldfield
and spent four years as DA in Lincoln County. Upon his return
to Panaca in 1986, he was again elected to the office of Lincoln
County District Attorney. He prosecuted and won convictions
in some very crucial cases in the history of Lincoln County.

Pioche being the County Seat of Lincoln County, the courthouse
was located there. The first courthouse was built in 1871. It
was designed by Edward Donahue along the borders of the
"Classic Revival" style of architecture. It was constructed of
brick and stone. It was originally projected and budgeted to
cost $16,000.00. In the history of Lincoln County, it reads,
"From the get-go courthouse politicians prodigally delayed
payments, mounting interest, and these cost overruns
ballooned the cost of construction into a million dollar price.
Known thereafter as the Million Dollar Courthouse, it was finally
paid off in 1936 four years after it was condemned for use.
A new courthouse was already being built. That courthouse is
the one I worked in as secretary to Esther Rollins. Over the
years there have been some renovations but it is still in use
today. While serving as DA, Uncle Frank had his office in
The Million Dollar Courthouse. It has been restored and
designated a Historical Building for the state of Nevada and
is now a museum detailing and portraying the history of
Lincoln County.

Those were exciting times and the people mentioned in that
part of my life as I was "Growing Up Ina" in Lincoln County,
are a significant and important part of who I am today.

Check out Growing Up Ina's New Look. . . .

I have been trying to jazz up my blog for some time now but have been having computer problems and the onrey thing has blocked everything I have tried to do. I have been wanting a new background for so long. Compared to others in my family, my blog was starting to look boring, boring, boring.

Charlotte the pro, who has one of the most professional looking blogs going, tried to change it for me and kept getting blocked. Rhonda came over Friday after her exercise class and worked on it for quite awhile, and she too, kept getting blocked. However, she did figure out what was probably going on with the computer. She went into the security system and found that the anti-virus program I thought I had, was never activated. We purchased it for both mine and George's computers at the same time and his was activated just fine. Obviously, I am really not computer literate. Anyway, Rhonda helped me purchase a new program. They happilty took my money and then wouldn't let us download the program, which means I probably have a virus. Great! But at least I know what the problem is and why I am being blocked from doing so many things. Now we can get it cleaned up.

Rhonda took my password and user name home with her and installed it from her computer. She also posted a new profile picture of George and I with our little "Princess Nixon". So, I am all jazzed up and can now compete in the "lookin' good" department with the rest of my family.

Thank you, thank you, Rhonda! I have missed boring you to death with my stories and am looking forward to some serious blogging under a beautiful new look.

Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet, Love . . . .#5

• 
  George served his four years in the navy at the Naval Training Center in San Diego, California. The picture shows him standing watch as a forward lookout aboard the only ship he served on during his navy enlistment. It is a 2/3 scale mock-up of a destroyer. It was commissioned the USS Recruit TDC-1 in 1949 and land docked a quarter of a mile from the San Diego Bay. It served as a Sea Daddy to new recruits and was affectionately known to them as USS Neversail. While in training, each company served one day standing watches aboard this ship. Every two hours, they rotated to a different station.

The next picture shows Ina with her "sailor man" after his graduation from Boot Camp. Isn't he dashing in his Navy Whites?

George left for Las Vegas to join the Air Force almost immediately after we had our "Bare Your Hearts" date. He took the train from Caliente and when he arrived in Las Vegas, went to the Court House where the recruitment offices for the different branches of the Armed Forces were located. No one was in the Air Force Recruitment Office. He waited all day for someone to come in. When he realized he would miss his train if he didn't get things resolved, he stepped next door and joined the Navy. On the way back to the train station, he passed a pool hall. Looking in, he saw several young men he knew shooting pool. They had played basketball against him as team members for the Las Vegas High School Wildcats. Stepping inside to say a quick hello, he saw the Air Force Recruitment Officers who had obviously been there all day shooting pool with them. He said to them, "So, this is where you have been all day while I was waiting to enlist in the Air Force." One of them answered, "Well, here you are and here we are, let's go and get it done." George told them it was too late, he had a deadline to catch a train back to Caliente, and so had gone next door and joined the Navy.

He came to see me when he got back and told me this story. We had a good laugh about it and he said, "Well, so much for my wanting to he an Air Force pilot, I will now be spending my days and many nights in bell bottom pants buttoning and unbuttoning 13 buttons!" He told me he would be reporting to The Naval Training Center in San Diego for Boot Camp in one week. We had several dates during that week and he left with a promise to send me his military address as soon as he was given one and that he would write me as often as he was able. "But", he said hopefully, "you should be able to write me several times a week." Boot camp lasted for eight weeks and when he had time to write, his letters included the usual horror stories about the rigors of it's training. He stood up under it well and seemed to meet the challenges with enthusiasm. However, he assured me that he was "missing me in the worst way!"

In the meantime, I had settled into my job at the Lincoln County Court House and really enjoyed working for Esther Rollins, the Lincoln County Clerk. The work was interesting and challenging. Esther was a wonderful boss and became a very dear friend. In addition to serving as her secretary, I was often called to the District Attorney's office to take depositions and type legal documents. It wasn't unusual for me to fill a complete steno pad with shorthand from a single deposition. I spent many nights working fast and furiously to have it transcribed and ready to type before my notes got cold. Roscoe Wilkes, the DA scared me to death and I suffered more than one nightmare over this. The first time I took a deposition from a witness in a murder case, it was a hair raising experience. Scary or not, Roscoe did teach me so much about how the justice system worked. I came to realize that the reason he was such a stern taskmaster was because he could not afford to get it wrong.

I missed George terribly. Through our correspondence, our love grew stronger and somewhere along the way, we decided to get married when he came home on leave after his graduation. He would have two weeks leave. This didn't seem like a lot of time for all of the preparations and events leading up to a wedding and leaving any time for a honeymoon. Mother and I began all of the preparations for the wedding and I took the train to Salt Lake City to find a wedding dress, my honeymoon trousseau, and George's wedding ring. It seemed fitting for my sister, Theresa, to be with me as I searched for the perfect wedding gown. After all, she was responsible for restoring mine and George's romance and courtship. I knew I wanted a satin gown with long sleeves and a train and that she knew where we should look. She would be making dresses for my two little flower girls. They were her daughter, my niece Lois Marie, and George's niece, his sister Margaret's daughter, Todd Ann. We needed to find the material for their dresses.

The long and busy eight weeks finally passed, and once again, I waited "with butterflies in my stomach", for George to arrive. We were going to go to a movie with Gino and Wanda. They had just recently been married. We would be seeing the new movie, "An American in Paris'', starring Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron. It was the perfect choice, a sentimental, tear jerking love story. The movie's theme song, "Embraceable You", was a perfect testimony of the occasion. In the back seat on the way home from the movie, George handed me a small velvet box. I opened it and saw a beautiful engagement ring. It was white gold with a large diamond in the center and a smaller one on each side. Actually, it wasn't a very large diamond, as be fits the budget of a "just graduated from Boot Camp "sailor boy", but to me it looked huge. And, I want to say right here, George looked absolutely dashing in his bell bottom pants, buttons and all. We sealed our engagement with a kiss and it was the sweetest kiss I had ever received.

Gino and Wanda then burst into song, singing: "Bell Bottom Trousers, coat of navy blue, Ina loves a sailor man, and he loves her, too. When they walk along the street, anyone can see, they are so much in love, happy as can be."

Gino and Wanda had planned this when George told them he was going to give me my ring. It was a romantic, fun, and hilarious night. Hilarious because neither Wanda nor Gino could carry a tune, but we had to applaud their enthusiasm.

Next up, was to obtain our marriage license. The legal age for a man to marry in Nevada was 21. As George was only 20, he had to be accompanied by a parent in order to be issued the license. Esther came up with what she thought to be an ingenious plan. She affixed the Seal of the State of Nevada to a marriage license application and authorized me to issue and sign it. After doing this, she conveniently went to lunch leaving me in charge. When George came in with his father, I issued our marriage license and his father cosigned with him to make it legal. I accepted his money for the fee and gave him a receipt signed by me. Those remaining in the office, and my future father-in-law, thought it was hilarious and teased George unmercifully.

The next momentous event to take place was George's baptism. Knowing how much it would mean to my parents and I, he wanted it to take place before our wedding. On May 22nd, two days before our wedding, on a cold night when the water in the unheated Baptismal Font at the Pioche Chapel was full of ice crystals, Delores' boyfriend and our dear friend, Peter Horlacher, baptized and confirmed George a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The spirit was strong and it was beautiful.

To be continued. . . .our Wedding Day. . . .

Uncle Wiggily Takes Ten Hops. . . .

My father, James Allen Wadsworth, was a true English Gentleman. A gentleman is defined as being of good family or social position, well educated, a man of the highest honor, courtesy and morality. He was all of that. He was also handsome, determined, and tenacious, while at the same time being a gentle, kind, and under-standing husband and father. If he was a little in awe of the beautiful "sprite" who was his wife, he never-the-less loved her deeply and was very proud of his "Loie".

Dad was a true Englishman in yet another way. He was blessed with an English sense of humor. He could be

very funny without even realizing it. Over the years, this gave much pleasure and many a laugh to his family and friends. I can still see the staid look on his face as he would deliver, or receive, a joke. In his own time, this

look would be followed by a chuckle, which would start suddenly and softly, and soon develop into a rumbling

"belly laugh".

We were a happy family. My siblings and I benefited from our parents loving, involved, hands on style of

parenting. We were a reading, story telling, and game playing family. We did these things together. From the

time we were small we were read to and taught to love books. We always had games. One of mine and

Delores' favorites, from the time we were very young until we were into our preteens, was the Uncle

Wiggily board game. In this game, the players advanced along a colorful story telling trail, from Uncle Wiggily's

Bungalow in a hollow stump to Dr. Possum's House. The first player to arrive there was the winner. Two

decks of cards were placed in the center of the board, one deck yellow and one red. On their turn, a player

drew a yellow card which either had them advance or tell them to draw a card from the red deck, which would

move them forward or backward. The cards were very entertaining, written in catchy little verses.

It wasn't all fun and games, though. From the time we were small, we also had certain chores to do. One of

mine and Delores' Saturday chores was to dust the whole house. It was no easy task. There was a lot of dust

that would settle in a house with as much traffic as ours had each day. Mom had her ceramic elf and sea shell

collections and there were a lot of pictures and books. Dad's upright Grand Piano and piano bench took a lot of dusting. With such a large family, there was always odds and ends of stuff scattered about. Rather that take the time to return it to it's proper place, we had a habit of just grabbing an envelope from one of the compartments in the little desk/table/magazine rack that sat at the end of the couch and cramming the stuff into it. Some one always seemed to be hunting for an item that had met that fate.

Ours was a large family, which presented challenges even in the best of times. These challenges reached a

critical point during Word War II. In May of 1942, our government introduced rationing because certain things were in short supply. Food, clothing, shoes, gasoline, tires, and heating fuel, were all rationed. Even if you had money to buy these things, you couldn't just walk into a store or pull into a service station and purchase whatever you needed or wanted. Rationing was the government's way to make sure everyone received their fair share. This rationing lasted for three years.

Families were issued Ration Books filled with red and blue stamps and another referred to as the airplane stamp. This became a kind of currency. Red stamps were used for meat and fats, blue for processed foods, shoes and other clothing used the airplane stamps. The size of the family determined the number of stamps and coupons in the book. In addition, each family was issued a Gas Ration Book and a Sugar Buying Card. A point system was used to purchase these needed things. It was joked around that it took "a heap of learning" to figure it all out and most often it was a "trial and error" situation; for instance, How far was four gallons of gas a week going to take you? What were the alternatives to using sugar in cooking? In a large family, the simple act of buying a pair of shoes became a difficult task; Who was most in need of new shoes? Who could wait until the next allotment dates?

With so many of the young men going off to war, Panaca's farmers and ranchers suffered. Money and labor were in short supply. One day Dad received a notice from the bank stating that he was overdrawn on his account. Being a proud and ethical man, he was upset and embarrassed. To cover the overdraft, he immediately sold, for much less that it was worth, one of the pigs he had been counting on to feed his family. He put the money in an envelope he pulled from a compartment in the little desk/table and mailed it to the bank in Pioche.

A few days later, he went to Pioche on business and before returning home, went into the bank to make sure

they had received the money and his account was free of the overdraft. Having been a school teacher and holding political offices in the county and state, he was well known throughout the state. The bank manager and most of the other employees, were long time friends of his. When he entered the bank, he instantly became the focus of attention. As he went along greeting people with a handshake or a clap on the back, there were a lot of smiles, chuckles and outright laughter, from both employees and partrons. This puzzled him and he was wondering if he really was the cause of every one's merriement.

The question was answered when the bank manager called from his office, "Jim could you step in here for a moment?" Dad said later that it immediately became so quiet in the bank you could have heard a pin drop, and

then he heard his friend laughing. He handed the envelope he was holding to dad as he said, "You really out did yourself this time, Jim!" Confused, Dad looked at the envelope and recognizing his own writing, looked inside. It held several different items. They included the slip he had filled out for the deposit to cover the overdraft, a blue rationing food stamp to be affixed to the Sugar Buying Card for 5 pounds of sugar, an advertisement for Buster Brown shoes proclaiming, "I'm Buster Brown. I live in a shoe. That's my dog. Tige, He lives there, too.", and a yellow card from the Uncle Wiggily game, which proudly stated, "Uncle Wiggily takes 10 hops, while in the woods the ice cream pops!"

Dad didn't have a clue how this could have happened and so didn't try to explain it, but just left the bank followed by a lot of friendly ribbing and laughter. Mom said he didn't say anything when he got home. just sat in his rocking chair with a Max Brand western. Quite a while later, mom said she heard a chuckle and then a deep rumbling belly laugh, coming from the rocking chair in the living room. When she went into the room, he was still laughing as he handed her the envelope. He said, "It is a mysterious coincidence, but I guess the joke is on me!'

This quickly became our family's favorite story and these many years later, it still makes us laugh.

Even though I never admitted it, I have always felt that I was most likely to blame, albeit in innocence, for setting Dad up during one of my dreaded "dusting" experiences. Or could it have been Delores?