tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79310847044479535522024-03-13T09:56:36.378-06:00Turning HeartsBrent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-28114046038724297692013-04-05T16:01:00.001-06:002013-04-05T18:14:34.426-06:00 The Mission of Elijah<p><font style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"> </font><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 24px; line-height: 26px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">“Many of your ancestors died never having the chance to accept the gospel and to receive the blessings and promises you have received. The Lord is fair and He is loving. And so He prepared for you and me a way for us to have the desire of our hearts to offer to our ancestors all the blessings He has offered us.</span></p>
<p><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 24px; line-height: 26px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">“The plan to make that possible has been in place from the beginning. The Lord gave promises to His children long ago. …</span></p>
<blockquote><h2 xml:space="preserve" style="margin-bottom: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; border: 0px; font-size: 24px; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal; line-height: 26px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; "><p><font style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">'Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord:</font></p></h2></blockquote>
<blockquote><h2 xml:space="preserve" style="margin-bottom: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; border: 0px; font-size: 24px; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal; line-height: 26px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; "><p><font style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">'And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse' (Malachi 4:5-6).”</font></p></h2></blockquote>
<h2 xml:space="preserve" style="margin-bottom: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; border: 0px; font-size: 24px; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: normal; line-height: 26px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; "><p><font style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">—Henry B. Eyring, “Hearts Bound Together,” Ensign, May 2005</font></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "> </span></p></h2>
<p> </p>Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-40939085063589223652013-03-29T07:30:00.000-06:002013-03-29T07:30:00.798-06:00Elizbuth Melinda SomersToday is Elizbuth Melinda Somers' birthday. She is my paternal grandmother and was born on March 29, 1892 in Willow Creek, Utah. You can see pictures of her life and read her personal history on Family Tree which can be found at www.familysearch.org.Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-48683700642700165132013-03-18T10:30:00.000-06:002013-03-18T11:06:51.225-06:00Oliver Guy Johnson--Part Eight<div align="left">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Oh! My Papa" was Oliver's favorite song. Ollie Jean Johnson Sorensen, Oliver's daughter, would often sing it to him. It was sung at his funeral.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">OH! MY PAPA</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Lyrics by Eddie Fisher</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, my pa-pa, to me he was so wonderful</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, my pa-pa, to me he was so good</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">No one could be, so gentle and so lovable</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, my pa-pa, he always understood.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Gone are the days when he could take me on his knee</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And with a smile he'd change my tears to laughter</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, my pa-pa, so funny, so adorable</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Always the clown so funny in his way</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, my pa-pa, to me he was so wonderful</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Deep in my heart I miss him so today.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is a link to a You Tube audio recording of Eddie Fisher singing this song that Oliver liked so much </span><a href="http://youtu.be/6dWOsP_wly0">http://youtu.be/6dWOsP_wly0</a> .</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span>Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-88154711670753888362013-03-17T07:00:00.000-06:002013-03-17T07:00:04.137-06:00Oliver Guy Johnson--Part Seven<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Letter From Mae Jensen</span></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">January 10, 1970<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dear
Sister Johnson,<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">We were
so sorry that we were unable to see you at the Mortuary, but we were in Salt
Lake that Sunday. The service Monday was certainly a beautiful tribute to a
wonderful husband, father, grandfather, and neighbor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Of course
we shall always remember you folks, because it was your property that we built
our home on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have always been such
good neighbors. One particular trait Bro Johnson had I really liked and that
was from the first time we moved into the Ward, he always addressed me with a
genuine handshake a broad smile and called me by my first name “Mae.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have
admired the closeness and love your children have had for both of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The great concern they expressed publically
when Bro. Johnson was ill. Not only your own sons and daughter, but the love
that Jessie Lou and Gloria has expressed for you has been a real inspiration to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would like nothing better than to
have the love and acclaim throughout my life of my in-laws that I have seen
displayed among all of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is true
love.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was
much impressed at our Christmas party watching Brent helping you on with your
coat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little things, but it is the
little things that really make life worth living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have also watched your grandchildren
snuggle up close to you and Bro. Johnson in church, and their look of love and
confidence they would give you, and you in return, your little squeeze on the
knee, or act of affection to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I’ve
seen a lot of human drama sitting on the stand these many years), and I’ve seen
tears of joy in your eyes as your grandchildren preformed--I’m thinking
particularly of the night J.D. gave that talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Such a lot of respect and love he paid all of you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Brother
Johnson has surely given these sons and grandsons a “good name” to carry on--and
they will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have certainly admired
Nyman’s devotion and respect to both of you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Whenever
I hear the song “Oh My Papa,” I shall always think of the Johnsons. Never have
I heard it sung so meaningful as the day of the funeral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems it was just composed and sung for
that very special occasion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sister Johnson, please accept our
heartfelt sympathy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We shall all miss
your dear husband, but we also want you to know just how much both of you have
contributed happiness in our lives, but setting such a good example of an
L.D.S. family and being such good neighbors. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sincerely, Mae Jensen</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>Next Installment: "Oh! My Papa"<o:p></o:p></em></strong></span></span></span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-19870255940008274412013-03-16T16:18:00.000-06:002013-03-16T16:18:00.269-06:00Oliver Guy Johnson---Part Six
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Oliver
Johnson Obituary</span></span></b></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Oliver
Guy Johnson, 76, died Friday of natural causes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">He was
born May 19, 1893, in Logan, a son of James Christen and Mary Hansen Johnson.
He married Vilate Nyman of North Logan April 25, 1917, in the Logan Temple.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Mr.
Johnson received his education in Logan City schools, at Brigham Young College
and Utah State University. He was called into military service in the First
World War in October, 1917 and trained at Fort Lewis, Washington, and Camp
Kearney, California. He was serving in France with the 145th Artillery when the
armistice was signed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">He
homesteaded in Blue Creek, Box Elder County, and was a farmer and cattleman
throughout his lifetime. For seventeen years he was secretary of the Logan
Canyon Cattle Association and he also served as a director for six years,
vice-president two years and president for ten years. He also served as a
director of the Cache County Cattle Association for five years and the Utah Cattleman’s
Association for six years. He had been a member of the American Legion Post No.
7 for thirty years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">He was an
active High Priest in Logan 16th Ward, Cache LDS Stake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">As a man,
Mr. Johnson loved the out-of-doors. In his early life, he worked logging winter
and summer in Logan Canyon and also worked on the early horsepower threshing
machines where he measured the grain. He was invited by the State Department to
participate in an agricultural exchange tour to the U.S.S.R. and Europe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Survivors<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>include<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>his<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>wife, Logan; the following
children: Nyman Oliver, James Warren, J. Reed, Mrs. W. Karl (Beth) Somers, all
of Logan; Mrs. E. Blaine (Ollie Jean) Sorensen, San Bernardino, Calif.; Carl
Guy of Renton, Wash.; 22 grandchildren and one great grandchild, all of whom
spent Christmas at the family home on his request.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">He is also
survived by the following brothers and sisters: Mrs. Hilda J. Roskelley,
Smith-field; Mrs. Pearl J. Carter, Black Mountain, North Carolina; Mrs. Russell
E. (Clara) Berntsen, Logan; Milton L. Johnson, Tremonton.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Funeral
services will be held Monday at 12 noon in the Logan 15<sup>th</sup>-16th Ward.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Friends may call at the Nelson
Memorial Funeral Chapel this evening from 7 to 9 o’clock <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and Monday from 10:30 to 11:30 a.m.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ci4i3O8vBgA/UUOeLqFEFXI/AAAAAAAAJXo/P1izBJa9l_E/s1600/Oliver+Johnson+obit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ci4i3O8vBgA/UUOeLqFEFXI/AAAAAAAAJXo/P1izBJa9l_E/s640/Oliver+Johnson+obit.jpg" width="307" /></a></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Next installment: Letter from Mae Jensen</span></i></b></span>Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-1481385041647560252013-03-15T16:15:00.000-06:002013-03-15T16:22:23.227-06:00Oliver Guy Johnson--Part Five<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Nyman Johnson’s
Post Script</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1969,
when Jeanie and Carl were home in the summer, Dad had ask them about coming
home for Christmas this year. Their children had never been in Logan at
Christmas time. He wanted to have the whole family at home this Christmas time,
and they did come. A wonderful time we all had too. Right from the time they
started to arrive, first Jeanie and her family came from San Bernardino, then
Carl and his family came from Seattle, and with them came J.D. who was
stationed at Fort Lewis, Washington.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We were
all very busy all day of Christmas Eve, getting all the things done for the
party that night. We had ham to bake and slice, rolle-poulse to slice, cream
puffs to bake and fill, potato salad, cabbage and shrimp salad to fix, and
oyster soup to make. All too soon it was 6:30 and time for the party to start and
here came all the family home for it, all thirty-seven of them, to Grandpa and
Grandma Johnsons for Christmas. My were the little ones excited. We did have
fun and Grandpa most of all. He had all his family at home. After we were full
and had more than we could eat, we had a short program from the grandchildren.
Then who should knock at the door but Santa Claus himself. He came in and
visited with each one and had a small gift for the children. When things had
quieted down a bit from his visit, we opened all the gifts that were under the
big tree in the corner. This was the time when all the Grandchildren got
excited and it was no exception this year. Soon it was time to get the children
home to their beds so Santa could come.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Christmas
morning bright and early we were all at it again. Grandma and Grandpa made all
the rounds of the different houses to see what Santa had left. Sure enough he
had been to each home. We had dinner again at Grandpa and Grandma Johnsons. The
Johnsons were known for eating parties.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">On Friday,
the 26th of December, we took all the kids up to the sinks in Logan Canyon to
play in the snow. It was cold and the wind was blowing but they all played in
the snow, young and old. They used plastic, inner tubes, and all such things to
slide down the hills. My they had fun. It was the first time in the snow for
some of them. After we got home and changed clothes and warmed up, we all went
to Reed and Gloria’s for a chili supper. It was good. We went down stairs to
the family room and had a sing along and then showed slides of the family from
the time the grandchildren were small. About 10:00 p.m. it was time to go home.
Grandpa left us and walked upstairs by himself. No more than five minutes
later, one of the youngsters called that something was wrong with Grandpa. By
the time we got upstairs to him, he was at peace with the world and with his
God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">He had his family all home for
his last Christmas and he enjoyed it so much, right up to the very end. He must
of had this all planned and it worked out as he wanted it to.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ALeXCLNRGFA/UUOdBEr0Y9I/AAAAAAAAJXg/sAnoGcCyW_Q/s1600/Oliver+Johnson+funeral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="528" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ALeXCLNRGFA/UUOdBEr0Y9I/AAAAAAAAJXg/sAnoGcCyW_Q/s640/Oliver+Johnson+funeral.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-73936926926917042672013-03-13T17:42:00.001-06:002013-03-13T17:42:46.163-06:00Oliver Guy Johnson--Part Four<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Later Years and
Travels</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1947,
I was ordained a High Priest on April 27, by Ambrose Call, who was ordained a
High Priest by Joseph E. Cardon, who was ordained a High Priest by Rudger
Clausen, who was ordained a High Priest by Wilford Woodruff, who was ordained a
High Priest by David Witmer, who was ordained a High Priest by Martin Harris,
who was ordained a High Priest by Joseph Smith, who was ordained a High Priest
by Peter, James and John.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WkfxBXr8zRk/UUEHdmI65TI/AAAAAAAAJWw/E4SpyK7NbgA/s1600/Oliver+Vilate+Johnson+abt1958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WkfxBXr8zRk/UUEHdmI65TI/AAAAAAAAJWw/E4SpyK7NbgA/s320/Oliver+Vilate+Johnson+abt1958.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate (about 1958)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bUcPjKzjclU/UUEHhJcgDVI/AAAAAAAAJW4/6HrCourCrTs/s1600/Oliver+Vilate+1958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bUcPjKzjclU/UUEHhJcgDVI/AAAAAAAAJW4/6HrCourCrTs/s320/Oliver+Vilate+1958.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate, (California, 1958)<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GQGKXAMKp40/UUEH35939kI/AAAAAAAAJXA/UjZIbyh09mc/s1600/Oliver+Vilate+with+kids+1958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GQGKXAMKp40/UUEH35939kI/AAAAAAAAJXA/UjZIbyh09mc/s320/Oliver+Vilate+with+kids+1958.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate with Brent, Michael, and Linda Somers (California, 1958)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In June
of 1962, Vilate and I went with Jim and Jessie and Vicky and J. D. to Seattle
and to the World’s Fair. This was of course the first World’s Fair that we had
ever seen, so we took it all in and really enjoyed it. We stayed with Nyman and
Carl and Roberta. They were all living up there at that time. 1962 was the year
for trips I guess. We also took a trip to Hawaii. Vilate and I, along with
Melvin and Jennie Schvaneveldt went by air and even flew to the islands in the
Hawaiian group. We had such a good time and enjoyed every minute that we were
gone. Hawaii is really a beautiful place and the people over there really know
how to show you a good time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">On
Sunday, July 28, 1962, I joined a Farmers from Utah, People to People Tour to
Europe. There were 35 farmers from Utah. Uncle Rich Roskelley from Smithfield,
also went on the tour. We were gone 17 days. All the details were taken care of
before we left. We flew from Salt Lake to New York then to England. From there
to Brussels, Belgium, and spent a couple of days visiting some of their farms.
We then flew to Amsterdam, Holland, then to Moscow, Russia. We stayed at a big
hotel and went out each day and visited some of their farms. We then flew down
to southern Russia to a city called Krasndor and spent about three days there
visiting some of their large collective farms. We then went down to a Black Sea
resort for a couple of days. I went wading in the Black Sea. We then flew back
to Moscow and then to Budapest, Hungary. We lived in a hotel on the banks of
the Blue Danube River and spent a couple of days visiting some of their big
farms. We then flew to Warsaw, Poland, and saw some of the bombed out buildings
from World War II. We also visited some of their farms. We then took a bus and
went to East Berlin and through the wall and into West Berlin. You could sure
see the difference. The people were different and more friendly and happy, and
the stores were stocked with all kinds of goods and the streets were filled
with automobiles. When we went through the Berlin Wall, this was the only time
we were held up to have our passports checked. We then flew to Frankfort,
Germany, and then to Paris, France. We saw the sights of Paris then we flew to
Brussels, Belgium. We stayed at the Plaza hotel, a bus came for us at 4:30 p.m.
and picked up about two thirds of our party and we went to the L.D.S. Sacrament
Meeting. It was sure a thrill and the Saints were happy to see and talk to us
and make us welcome. We had to talk in the sign language, but it was the same
church that we go to at home. They had one of our group, George A. Christensen
talk with an interpreter. He was a Stake President and President David O. McKay
was a member of his stake. He sure gave a wonderful talk.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6cwDGE1gph8/UUEOOKAdefI/AAAAAAAAJXI/_X0jeeDIJT0/s1600/Oliver+Postcard+back+1962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6cwDGE1gph8/UUEOOKAdefI/AAAAAAAAJXI/_X0jeeDIJT0/s320/Oliver+Postcard+back+1962.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Postcard from Oliver to Linda Somers (1962)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We then
took a jet to Montreal, Canada, then to New York and on to Salt Lake City. It
was a wonderful trip and when I got off the plane at the airport in Salt Lake
City, there was just about all of my family to greet me, even the little ones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1958,
I had rented the farm and the cattle to Reed and started to receive Social
Security. In 1964, I sold the farm to Reed and then I semi-retired.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1966, Vilate and I went with
Jim and Jessie on a trip to Southern Utah. This was the first time we had ever
been down there in that part of the country, other than to pass through on the
train. Our first stop was at the Big Rock Candy Mountain, and that is really
what it looks like. No trees or grass, just rock and every color. It really
looked like candy and good enough to eat. We saw the Manti Temple for the first
time. It was very beautiful and we even got a piece of rock of the kind that
the Temple is made of. Then we saw Bryce Canyon. This is really something to
see. We stood at the edge and looked down and out over the canyon. All you see
is color and lots of color. You cannot go down into the canyon by car but have
to stay at the top and look over it. There were tall pinnacles of every color
in the rainbow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We
visited in St. George with Jessie’s Aunt Isabell. Then she went with us and
showed us around St. George. She took us to visit Mrs. Anna Wulffenstein whose
husband was a sort of relative of Vilates. Then we visited the Brigham Young
winter home. This home was very beautiful and was furnished in the pioneer
period. We were in the basement and saw the hooks where they would hang the
cured hams and bacon. We saw clothes of Brigham Young and his hat and cane. The
hat was black and flat and had a big, wide rim. We saw the Silver Reef Mine.
This is nothing but a ghost town now but we could see what is left of the Wells
Fargo Station. Then we took in Santa Clara and went through the home of Jacob
Hamblin. This is a fine two-story house and is furnished in the pioneer period.
It had lots of real fine antiques. The caretaker of the home is a granddaughter
of Jacob Hamblin. On the way home we got into Salt Lake City early in the day,
so we went out to Bingham Canyon and saw the open pit copper mine. This was the
first time I had ever seen that and it was sure interesting. We had a wonderful
time on the trip and we went over so much country that we had never seen
before.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We then
took a trip to Peoria, Illinois, in 1966, to visit Karl and Beth and family,
who were there for the summer. Karl was working in the Caterpiller Tractor
Factory for the summer. I was a guest at the factory and I saw how they make
Caterpillar tractors right from the ground up. Beth and Karl showed us all the
interesting places around that part of Illinois. We visited the Amish City
which was very interesting. We also went to Springfield and went through the
Lincoln Memorial. We visited Nauvoo and saw the Joseph Smith home, the Mansion
House, the Temple site, the Brigham Young home, the Heber C. Kimball home, and
the Wilford Woodruff home. We also visited the Carthage Jail. It was all so
interesting to see all these places from our early church history.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QH2G3RzET5g/UUEOnFxTlZI/AAAAAAAAJXQ/YaQokpfGZbw/s1600/Oliver+Vilate+Johnson+1967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QH2G3RzET5g/UUEOnFxTlZI/AAAAAAAAJXQ/YaQokpfGZbw/s320/Oliver+Vilate+Johnson+1967.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate (1967)</td></tr>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Next installment:
Nyman Johnson’s post script.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-42392528188498153082013-03-08T08:30:00.000-07:002013-03-08T08:30:01.560-07:00Oliver Guy Johnson--Part Three<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Early Married Life
and the Army Years</span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">At
Christmas time I got up enough courage to give my sweetheart a ring and we set
the date for April of 1917. I also applied for and was granted a permit to
graze ten head of cattle in Logan Canyon. This was also the year I registered
for the Army Draft in the first part of April, because the U. S. had entered
the World War I.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">I was married on April 25, 1917,
to the most wonderful girl in the world, Vilate Nyman from North Logan. Her
parents were Carl and Albertina Nyman, Mormon pioneers. I had worked with her
brothers on the threshing machine. We were married in the Logan Temple by
Willard Young, a son of Brigham Young. I didn’t sleep much the night before and
I was up early and hitched the horse to the buggy. I then went to North Logan
and got my sweetheart and took her to the Temple. I tied the horse in a lot
where the hospital now stands. [The hospital was on the northeast corner of the
intersection of 200 North and 300 East.]<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We went
to Salt Lake City on our honeymoon and moved in with my folks. In July my name
was drawn for the draft and I was called for my physical exam which I passed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">I got notice in August to be
ready to leave for the army on October 3, 1917. I left home the night of the
3rd and got on a troop train at Cache Junction and went to Camp Lewis,
Washington. I was at Camp Lewis for about six weeks and then I volunteered to
go to Camp Kearny, California. There I was put in the 145 Field Artillery which
was made up of National Guard boys from Utah and I was with a lot of boys I
knew from Logan. I had my wife come down and live in San Diego and I would be
able to get a pass on weekends and stay in town with her. We rented a small
apartment. My wife got a job in a grocery store and that helped her pass the
time away. I soldiered in that camp from November 1917 to August 1918, when we
were ordered to France. We went by train from Camp Kearny to New York and left
New York in a convoy of seventeen troop ships. We were on the water twelve days
and then landed at Liverpool, England. We stayed in a rest camp called Knotty
Ash a few days and then went by train to Southampton. We went across the
English Channel in the night to LaHarve, France. I stayed on deck all night and
sat with my back against the smoke stack to keep warm. We wore life preservers
for we were in danger of submarines. Nobody could light, so this was pretty
hard on the boys that smoked. When day light came we were in LaHarve. We went
from one camp to another until we came to a large Army camp called DeSauge. The
day we marched into this camp was the hardest day I had ever put in. We marched
all day with our full packs. There were a lot of the boys that had to drop out.
We lived in brick barracks but the flu hit us and we moved outside in the pup
tents. I got the flu and was taken to the hospital for five days. Then I had to
leave to make room for some of the other boys. I got over it and went back to
my pup tent. We did some final training and were issued our combat equipment
and were under orders to be ready to go to the front. Then November 11 came and the war was over.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Now the
next question was when will we go home. We finally got orders to move to a
smaller camp. It was cold and wet and we had snow. We went to another camp with
nothing to do but try to keep warm when we learned this was by Bordeaux and we
were to ship out from there. So the night before Christmas we loaded on the
ship then we had to wait for high tide to sail out. In the morning we were out
in the Bay of Biscay and it was rough and in the afternoon I was so sick I had
to stay in my bunk. I was sick for about five days and then the sea was calm
and I could go on deck and sit in the sun. We were on ship twelve days and when
we got in New York Harbor it was zero weather, but the Statue of Liberty sure
looked good.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We stayed
in Camp Merritt for a few days. I went to Coney Island one night with my buddy,
Walter Barrett, and I met my nephew, Carl Baker Nyman, who was stationed in
that camp and he asked me to tell his mother that he is all right. This I did
when I got back home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We left New York by train and
came direct to Logan. When we got home all the people had masks on for the flu
was at its worst. My wife, Vilate, was in bed with flu at her mother’s home in
North Logan, but this I didn’t know until I got home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We
marched from the Depot in Logan to the College, up Center Street via the
Boulevard to the college and the people were lined up on both sides of the
street to greet us. It was a few days before I could get a pass to go see my
wife who was still in bed with the flu, but was recovering. Then I got a pass
to go down and see Mother and Father.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We were discharged on January 23,
1919. The boys that were not from Logan marched down to the depot and boarded a
train for home. My commander ask me if I would carry his grip to the station
and when I said yes, he gave me the first discharge in the company and told me
I could go and meet him at the station which I did. I was able to say good bye
to all the boys, many of them I have never seen since. I was home again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In the
spring of 1919, I took my wife in a covered wagon to Blue Creek and she stayed
with me for the summer and helped me with the work. I fenced some of the farm.
She drove the team on the wagon and I would toss out the posts. She helped me
haul water and she also harrowed with four head of horses. She would ride a
horse behind the harrow and drive the four head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1920,
I bought a home on Main Street (537 North Main Street, Logan, Utah) where our
first son, Nyman Oliver, was born. He was named after his mother’s maiden name.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LSYcONwMAmc/UTez2Aw9HOI/AAAAAAAAJWM/CdDHSD74bl8/s1600/Vilate+Oliver+1935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LSYcONwMAmc/UTez2Aw9HOI/AAAAAAAAJWM/CdDHSD74bl8/s400/Vilate+Oliver+1935.jpg" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate 1935</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gbYDmHkOeJ4/UTez9rbgc1I/AAAAAAAAJWU/TEyBHRE5xvI/s1600/Vilate+Oliver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gbYDmHkOeJ4/UTez9rbgc1I/AAAAAAAAJWU/TEyBHRE5xvI/s400/Vilate+Oliver.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ymU0WFhPPbY/UTe0CMsCq1I/AAAAAAAAJWc/0F9B8tvy6Cg/s1600/Jim+Carl+Oliver+Nyman+Reed+1935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ymU0WFhPPbY/UTe0CMsCq1I/AAAAAAAAJWc/0F9B8tvy6Cg/s400/Jim+Carl+Oliver+Nyman+Reed+1935.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver with James, Carl, Reed, and Nyman (1935)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J29ugpu3CIw/UTe0HJdIKaI/AAAAAAAAJWk/YC7fMUKmSrI/s1600/OGJ+Family+1943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J29ugpu3CIw/UTe0HJdIKaI/AAAAAAAAJWk/YC7fMUKmSrI/s400/OGJ+Family+1943.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oliver and Vilate with Carl, Reed, James, Nyman, Beth, and Ollie Jean (1943)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Next installment:
Later Years and Travels</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-34689030546259030402013-03-06T14:30:00.000-07:002013-03-06T14:30:00.718-07:00Oliver Guy Johnson--Part Two<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">The Pre-Marriage
Years</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">I went to
the Benson School until 1908 and then I went to the old Woodruff School where I
graduated at mid-year from the 8th grade, being one out of eleven boys and one
girl. This was as far as the public school went at that time. I registered at
the Brigham Young College for the rest of the year. In the summer I worked on
the farm with my father, brothers and sisters. We all had to work in the beet
fields and milk cows. The next year I went to the B.Y.C. and in the summer I
worked on the farm. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MDuMQPWoB00/UTewFdnw9tI/AAAAAAAAJVo/v1wvBv4SqNw/s1600/James+C+Johnson+family+1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="338" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MDuMQPWoB00/UTewFdnw9tI/AAAAAAAAJVo/v1wvBv4SqNw/s400/James+C+Johnson+family+1908.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">I was
ordained a Teacher by Joseph Grew on December 28, 1908. I attended B.Y.C. in
the winter of 1909 and 1910, and also attended U.S.A.C. in 1910.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yylYNbFqICE/UTewPE6WMGI/AAAAAAAAJVw/bY6ZL0FTHPY/s1600/Oliver+Johnson+1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yylYNbFqICE/UTewPE6WMGI/AAAAAAAAJVw/bY6ZL0FTHPY/s320/Oliver+Johnson+1908.jpg" width="208" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In the
spring of 1910, I went to Blue Creek for the first time with my brother-in-law,
Richard Roskelley, and helped him clear forty acres of sagebrush. He plowed it
with four head of horses on a sulky plow and I picked the sagebrush up and
piled it and burned it. I went from Blue Creek to Smithfield with Samuel
Roskelley and his wife, Maggie, and son, Martin, in a white top buggy. I stayed
with my sister, Hilda, in Smithfield that night and the next morning I left for
Blue Creek with four head of horses for Samuel Roskelley. The three horses were
tied together and I rode the other with just an old quilt for a saddle. It was
the hardest horse back ride I have ever had in my life, about sixty miles. I
worked for Samuel Roskelley for eleven days at $1 a day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1911,
I attended U.S.A.C. winter quarter. I went to Blue Creek and helped my
brother-in-law, Richard Roskelley, harvest his wheat. I drove a team on a
header box. I walked over the land which was to be my Blue Creek farm. My
father went out to Blue Creek and looked at the land which was to be our farm
and then he went to Brigham City and filed a homestead claim. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">I was
ordained a Priest by Andrew Eliason, January 9, 1911. I also joined the 4th
Ward choir this year with Robert M. Smith as the leader.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">My
brother James came home from his mission in 1912. I went to Blue Creek with a
load of hay and grain and then came back and my brother James and I went back
with a plow and five head of horses and started to plow up the sagebrush. After
about a week, James got sick and I had to take him home. I went the short cut
by Blind Springs to Fielding and made it in one day. The next day I hitched up
the team and went back to Blue Creek. I was out there alone for about ten days
and then James came back and we worked together. One would plow and the other
would pile sagebrush so it could be burned. We plowed about forty acres just
north of where the house now stands. Then we came home and put up the hay. We
bought a drill and went out alone and planted the wheat in the fall. James worked
on a horsepower thresher.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In the fall of 1913, we harvested
our first crop of wheat in Blue Creek, which was 1600 bushels of wheat. I also
fenced part of the Blue Creek farm. I cut the posts in the holler just west of
the farm. We bought a header and two header boxes and had a thresher thresh the
grain. This was the year, 1913, that I met the girl that was later to become my
wife, (how lucky.) I did some work on a horsepower thresher in my father’s
place. I did the measuring with a half bushel. James went out to Blue Creek and
planted our crop and hauled the wheat to Lampo, a fifteen mile trip each way
for 60¢ a bushel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1914,
I again farmed in Blue Creek and broke up more of our ground and cleared the
sagebrush off. I also started to see my future wife a little more often. I
worked on a threshing machine with C. A. Nyman, Golden Nyman, A. B. Nyman,
Parley Cronquist and A. L. King, in the fall of 1914. I was also ordained an
Elder, February 9, 1914, by O. H. Budge.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">We farmed
in Blue Creek in the spring of 1915. We had been staying to our neighbors, and
traveling up to our farm to work. But this year we had a water tank built and
moved up on our farm and pitched our tent about where the house now stands and
built a net wire corral where the corral now stands.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1916, I got a job at the Logan
Post Office during the Christmas rush as a mail carrier and stayed on until
late spring. I carried the mail on a route that took in all homes north of 2nd
North and west of 2nd East. I was asked to take the exam and get a permanent
appointment, but I had my farm in Blue Creek and thought I would stay with
farming.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">After
James and I had moved out to Blue Creek, I took a team and wagon and went back
into Tremonton and got a load of lumber for the first house we had on the farm.
I got a load of gravel out of the wash and mixed concrete for the foundation
and built the floor. Then we moved the stove on the floor and James went home.
I stayed there alone and plowed and hauled water for our horses and for the
camp. I would build a little at noon while the horses would rest and then a
little bit more at night until I finally got it built. I was so proud and
happy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Next installment:
Early Married Life and the Army Years</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-16849895692115514602013-03-05T06:21:00.001-07:002013-03-05T06:25:38.459-07:00Oliver Guy Johnson<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CH-nzJNW5vM/UTXwWYXTf-I/AAAAAAAAJVQ/zllMhTk1osk/s1600/Doxie+0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CH-nzJNW5vM/UTXwWYXTf-I/AAAAAAAAJVQ/zllMhTk1osk/s400/Doxie+0010.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oliver Guy Johnson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1893-1969</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: large;">Oliver Guy Johnson was my maternal grandfather. Born
in 1893, he passed away at Christmas time in 1969. He blessed us by writing his
personal history. Over the next several days, I will be posting his history in installments.
I hope you enjoy reading about this great man.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">The Early Years—Part One<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">I was born May 19, 1893, at 91
West 6th North, Logan, Utah, the seventh child and the second son of James
Christian and Mary Hansen Johnson. They had both come to Utah from Denmark. My
father came to Logan in July of 1875 and mother came in 1869. I was born in the
house that my son, Reed, and his family now lives in. My father owned land and
operated a small farm where I was born. My father had been a railroad
contractor, building the railroad grade in Idaho and Montana, but had quit it
and moved back to Logan to be with his family before I was born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">The 20 acre farm where I was born
and grew up, was also the home where my nine brothers and sisters were born and
raised. At the present time (1964) there is a large L.D.S. Church where Father’s
barn once was and there are seven business places and some twenty or thirty new
homes. We always had cows to milk and horses on the farm. I soon learned to
ride a horse and I have liked to ride horses all my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">My first
remembrance of my father was one day when he was sorting potatoes out in the
potato pit and Mother let me out to be with him. I had been stung on the eye
lid by a bee and my eye was swollen shut. I do not remember how or when I was
stung by that bee, but I do remember that my Father ask me whose boy I was.
When I told him I was Oliver, he said he didn’t think it was because Oliver
could see with both eyes. My mother was very sick when I was born so it was up
to my oldest sister, Hilda, to tend me until I could do a little for myself.
She was twelve years old when I was born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">I finally
grew up enough so 1 could do a few things around the farm like feeding the
chicken and the calves and pigs. My mother kept my hair in long ringlets until
I was five years old, but one day she cut them off and I was a boy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">When I
was six years old, I started school at the Benson School which was on the
corner of 4th North and 1st East Streets. I remember my sister Mable, who was
two years older than me taking me to the teacher for the first time. This
school had eight class rooms, four upstairs and four downstairs. I attended all
of them in the next eight years. This is the same school where my sons, Nyman,
Jim and Reed, and my daughter, Beth, took the first six grades.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">A few of
the boys and girls that I can remember (55 years later) of that first school
class are: Joseph Keller, Herbert Kallstrom, Alonso Lindquist, Ernest Ruchti,
Easter Lundberg, Lillie Hansen, Rebecca Jacobson, Carrie Jenson, Ina Barrett,
Edward Barrett, Harvey Larson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">My father
went back to his native land, Denmark, on a mission for the L. D. S. Church in
1902, leaving eight children home with their Mother. My brother, James, was 14
years old and I was 8. We took care of the farm; we milked the cows, put the
hay in the barn, and did all the irrigating.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKgS8-yQ4XI/UTXwtFKjoMI/AAAAAAAAJVY/VAY9RQMDbwA/s1600/James+C+Johnson+family+1904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="365" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKgS8-yQ4XI/UTXwtFKjoMI/AAAAAAAAJVY/VAY9RQMDbwA/s400/James+C+Johnson+family+1904.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">I went to
the 4th Ward Primary and Sunday School and Religion Class. They do not have
Religion Class any more. I gave the closing prayer at the exercises when I
graduated from Primary in 1905. I went to church in the 4th Ward. Thomas X.
Smith was Bishop with Thomas Morgon and Gustave Thompson counselors. Nora
Eliason was President of the Primary. E. W. Robinson was superintendent of the
Sunday School. They were the days when everybody walked to church, the good old
days before there were any autos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large;">I was
ordained a Deacon on December 9, 1905, by Fred Crunder Jr. We held our
Priesthood meeting in the back room of the meeting house. I helped with the
chores such as feeding of the calves and chickens and helped to keep the wood
box full, for wood was all we had to burn in those days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Next installment:
The Pre-Marriage Years</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-57398322372531757982013-01-23T07:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:16:39.956-07:00Vilate Nyman Johnson--Part 6<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tribute given by
James Warren Johnson (son) at the Logan 16th Ward Sunday School on Mother's Day
in May 13, 1973<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">My
brothers and sisters, I feel very humble as I stand before you and say a few
words about my Mother on this special day and to recall some of the things that
make her special to me. I ask The Lord to be with me, so I will be able to say
the things that are in my heart, and to be able to share them with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We
as a family had a very close and happy home life because our mother taught us
the meaning of friendship and happiness. Many are the times I remember bringing
home friends and she would always fix sandwiches and hot chocolate. My Mother
has always been a wonderful cook and we as a family still enjoy going home and
eating wonderful things she makes. Some of the grandchildren have a special
dish that grandma makes and when she makes that particular one, the grandchild
gets a phone call and an invitation out to dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9TNZUGXD8H0/UPctPFz1b8I/AAAAAAAAJQY/Ciz5pm4k-cY/s1600/img826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9TNZUGXD8H0/UPctPFz1b8I/AAAAAAAAJQY/Ciz5pm4k-cY/s320/img826.jpg" width="229" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
has also been a wonderful teacher to me. She taught me the Gospel from an early
age, and I remember when I was baptized we went to the Temple in a bob sleigh,
pulled by horses because it was in the middle of the winter. She taught us the
meaning of being truthful and to be good to each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
also taught us that through work and being honest we can achieve the goal we
are striving for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
has been proud of her pioneer heritage and has taught us to respect it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
is proud of her family, six children, 24 grandchildren and one great
grandchild. There are four of us that live in this ward, and we feel very
fortunate to live this close to her, and that we still receive her help and guidance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Myself
and my three brothers all served in the armed service. I remember looking
forward to the letters from Mother and all the news of my brothers and sisters.
I certainly looked forward to getting into port and getting those letters from
home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
I was trying to remember some of the important things to tell you today, I was reminiscing
and so my wife wrote this poem to my Mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mother<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">by Jessie Lue
Slack Johnson<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
am one of the reasons<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It’s
been said to me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">That
made mother's hair<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
white as could be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
there are others<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">in
this reminisces<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Three
of them brothers <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
two little sisses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our
Mother's a wonder<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
there is no doubt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">That
sometimes with confusion<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
wanted out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
kisses us and cuddled<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
hurts seemed to fade<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
to ease broken hearts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Something
special she made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Love
is one specialty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">That
she has galore<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">For
all of her family<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
then she has more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Kindness
is another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">of
treasures she shares<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">For
friends and for neighbors<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">she
always cares.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">There's
Beth and there's Nyman<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
Reed is here too<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">With
spouses and children<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">that
makes quite a few.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">There's
Jeanie and Carl<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">That
live far away<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
send her their greetings <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">On
this special day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I'd
say that we're blessed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">with
a mother like she<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
no better example<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">there's
apt to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Her
children all love her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">and
honor her name<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
grandchildren too<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">think
just the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One
little great grandson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">and
him we can't miss<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Cause
for him always<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">there's
a hug and a kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
held her head high<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Even
through sorrow<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
great hope <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
greets the tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
taught us our prayers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">and
to love one another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So
we say to her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thanks
for being our Mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-953489952390113622013-01-22T07:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:16:27.926-07:00Vilate Nyman Johnson--Part 5<!--[if !mso]>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i><span style="color: black;">Remembrances of
Vilate Nyman Johnson by Beth Johnson Somers (daughter) written in 2005</span></i></b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OXbqW4Zcvno/UO8tNJekS1I/AAAAAAAAJNs/Hy4-np_eMds/s1600/Vilate+Johnson+1976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OXbqW4Zcvno/UO8tNJekS1I/AAAAAAAAJNs/Hy4-np_eMds/s320/Vilate+Johnson+1976.jpg" width="227" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Vilate Nyman Johnson (1976)</b></i></td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i><span style="color: black;"></span></i></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">I
remember as a young girl when we lived on Main Street in Logan, at 537 North
Main, my mother would get cleaned up in the afternoon and we would sit out on
the porch and she would do her hand work. It was embroidery at that time. Then
she started to crochet lace for pillow cases and she made lots of doilies in
the pineapple pattern. After I got married she learned to do hardanger. A
sister in the ward showed her and she made many beautiful pieces of hardanger.
She always had a project she was working on, even until her later years.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Years
later when Nyman was living with her, and she couldn’t do fine hand work any
more because she couldn’t see as well as before, Nyman had her crochet granny
squares and she was able to do these until he passed away. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Mom
was a good seamstress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She made a lot of
our dresses and shirts for the boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Mom
was an excellent cook. We would come home from school and there would be fresh
baked bread. She made six loaves every other day. She made cinnamon rolls once
a week. Living on Main Street
her sisters and brothers from North Logan, Hyde Park,
and Benson Ward would stop when they came to town and she was always able to
feed them.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Our
family always went to Aunt Teenie Egbert’s for Thanksgiving dinner. The Egberts
came to our house for New Year’s dinner.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Mom
had many nieces in the Nyman family that would stop by and visit too. Even in
her later years they would often stop and visit.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Before
my Grandmother Nyman died, she was sick with diabetes for a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stayed with my mother for a while and
mother took care of her. She slept on a day bed in the front room.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Mother
never drove a car and always patiently waited until someone could take her to
town or to a store.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">After
Dad died in December 1969, Nyman sold his home and moved in with Mom to help
her. Nyman was very good with her and helped her so much. They went shopping
together and always to church. Before Nyman died he was noticing that Mom was
getting forgetful.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">That
next year when Mom was 76 years old she had cervical cancer and had to have a
hysterectomy. Dr. Gasser did the surgery. She had to have a radium implant for
a couple of days and no one could visit her in the hospital during this time.
She recovered very well.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Nyman
passed away in 1977 which was such a big shock to all of us. He was at work at Casper’s Ice Cream and had
a heart attack. Mike [Somers] was home from his mission so we had him move in
with Grandma so somebody would be in the house at night. I would go in every
morning to help Mom bathe and get dressed. One morning when I got there she had
fallen in the bathroom and couldn’t get up. We don’t know how long she had been
on the floor. I couldn’t get her up so I went next door to Dennis’[Johnson]
house and got Debbie to come and help me. Between the two of us we were able to
get her up and she seemed to be OK.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">After
Mike got married, Carolyn and Jens Trauntvein lived with her for a short time. When
she could no longer be by herself, we all took turns having her live in our
homes. I was taking care of her when Brent [Somers] called and told us Andy was
so very sick. We made arrangements with Debbie and Dennis to take Mom so I
could go back and stay with Brent’s twins. I was there six weeks. When I got
home then we took Grandma to Ollie Jean’s. She was working and had a girl come
in and be with Grandma during the day.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">While
she was staying at Ollie Jean’s, in Boise, she fell and broke her hip and had
surgery. I went and stayed with Jeanie and we would go to the hospital every
day. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">When
they couldn’t do anything more for her in the hospital we had to make
arrangements for her at Sunshine Terrace. She hadn’t walked since she broke her
hip. Jeanie and Blaine borrowed a friend’s suburban and we got a hospital bed
in it and we brought Mom home to Sunshine Terrace. She stayed in Sunshine
Terrace for about two years. She never walked again.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">She
did have dementia but it was not Alzhiemers disease.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Mom
died October 19, 1987, at 94 years of age at Sunshine Terrace. </span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-72892999174580576102013-01-21T07:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:16:12.951-07:00Vilate Nyman Johnson--Part 4<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">The Later Years-Vacations and Travel</span></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i> </div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">In June of </span><span style="color: black;">1962 we took a trip by car with…[Jim’s family] to the Seattle Worlds Fair. This was the first Worlds Fair that we had ever been to and we <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">enjoyed it </span>so much. Nyman and Carl were living in Seattle at the time and they <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">really </span>showed us around the Fair and the Northwest. We were there several days so <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">we were </span>able to see it all.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">One day </span><span style="color: black;">in January of 1964, Ollie mentioned it would be nice to go to Hawaii on a <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">second </span>honeymoon. Then after thinking it over for quit a while, we thought that it <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">would be </span>fine if we could get another couple to go with us. So we asked our <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">friends the </span>M.E. Schvaneveldts, (Mel and Jennie) what they thought about going to Hawaii on a trip. They thought that would be a fine idea, so we made all arrangements with the travel agency and got our reservations. We flew from Salt Lake City to San Francisco on 26 January 1964. This was my first plane ride. We boarded a 707 jet liner, Pan American in San Francisco, this plane had seats for 180 and all were filled. We got to Honolulu Airport at 2:30 p.m. It took us about four hours to cross the Pacific Ocean. So it was all a new experience for me. The trip across the ocean was just marvelous, as smooth as riding on a super highway.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We were greeted at the Honolulu Airport by a Hawaiian couple, greeting us in the Hawaiian fashion with a kiss on the cheek and placing a laie of lilies around our neck. After getting our baggage they took us to the waiting limousine. They took us to the Breaker Hotel. We had a nice apartment, living room, bedroom, twin beds, and a kitchenette where we could cook a little if we wanted to.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">The hotel was built around a lovely swimming pool. The flowers and plants and trees were all tropical and the most wonderful to see, and the colors were out of this world. We went on tour everyday. We didn’t have to worry about a thing. It was all arranged before we left Logan. They would pick us up at 9:00 a.m. and we would be gone until about 5:30 p.m. Most of the meals were arranged for on our ticket so we didn’t have to worry about that.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Our first dinner was at a lovely restaurant, it consisted of Kentucky fried chicken and all the trimmings, three big spears of the most delicious pineapple we had ever eaten and the most delicious coconut pie.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">On 27 January we visited the sugar cane fields and also pineapple plantations, just thousands of acres of them. It takes about fourteen months for the pineapple to mature and be ready for harvest. It was really interesting, we enjoyed it so much.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Our next stop was at the Temple. It was really a sight to see that beautiful structure. It is on the Isle of Oahu.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We visited the Polynesian village. It was very interesting to see the customs and dress of the different Island people.</span></div>
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It was about 1:30 p.m. when they came and got us for the Pearl Harbor Cruise. We saw lots of ships and boats of all kinds. A portion of the sunken ship <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Utah</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> </span>was showing above the water. We saw the remains of the battle ship <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Arizona</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">. </span>There were 1102 men on the <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Arizona</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> </span>and 58 on the battle ship <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Utah</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> </span>when they went down. They are still there and will remain there. These ships were sunk December 7, 1941, by the Japanese Air Force and that is what caused the U.S. to enter World War II. When we were coming out of Pearl Harbor we saw two big whales, tuna, and porpoise. <span style="color: black;">We visited Waikiki Beach, watched the waves come in, and saw the surf riders and bathers lined up along the beach. It was one of the most outstanding beaches in Honolulu.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">At 5:30 p.m. the limousine came after us and we went to the big luau, (Hawaiian feast). We enjoyed three hours of entertainment and feasting in Polynesian style. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We visited the four islands. We flew from one island to the other and saw many interesting places. We left Honolulu at 9:30 a.m., arrived in Kuai, and had our lunch at Cocoa Palms Hotel. We left at 12:30 for a canyon ride. The McKenzie Limousine was there to pick us up. It was such a beautiful ride and the most beautiful canyon one has ever seen. It was classed as the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific.” We passed many thousand acres of sugar cane and also pineapple.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Our room at this hotel was just gorgeous — king size bed, velvet bedspreads, beautiful lamps, tables and chairs. The wash basin in the bathroom was a big shell. We were at this hotel for two nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 7:00 p.m. the boys blew the horn for dinner.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">On January 31 our driver picked us up and we went on a river cruise. There were about 50 people on the boat, all tourists. The boat ride was just perfect. The natives sang for us all the way up the river. The captain would point out the interesting places.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We left Maui February 2 at 9:10 and stopped at Honolulu and changed planes, then flew to Hilo on the Isle of Hawaii. The driver was there and took us to a place where they raise orchids and we watched them make lais.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We had lunch at the Volcano House. It was very good food. On this trip we traveled many miles over black lava. It was really interesting but it looked so very destructive. After traveling around all afternoon we came to Kona and to the King Kamehamehale Hotel. We visited the coffee plantations where they process the coffee beans and sack them in burlap bags, ready to be shipped to a factory where they roast the beans and get them ready for the market. The native women make beads out of seeds and pods of many of the plants.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We had our dinner, then the native men and women entertained us with their music and singing. It seems like all the natives can play an instrument. They really enjoy entertaining the visitors.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">The next day we went for a boat ride in the bay. It was a fifteen mile trip up the coast that is lined with black lava all the way. The water was very clear and is known as the Coral Bay. This is the bay where Captain James Cook of the British Navy landed when he discovered the Hawaiian Islands in the 1700’s. We could see the coral bottom. There were two Hawaiian boys diving that went to the bottom and brought up pieces of coral.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">As we had no schedule for the afternoon, we and the Schvaneveldts hired a taxi and rode forty miles to the biggest cattle ranch in the world — 258,000 acres of cattle range, 35,000 head of cattle and 1500 head of beautiful saddle horses. It was a wonderful trip and we enjoyed it so much.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We had breakfast and got packed as this was the day to leave for home. The guide came for us and took us to the airport.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We left Honolulu for Los Angeles at 3:00 p.m. and arrived in Los Angeles at 10:00 p.m. We were really happy when we landed on U.S. soil. Jeanie and Blaine were there at the airport to meet us and we were happy to see them. They had been to the Temple and were able to get out in time to see our plane land.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We left Los Angeles for Salt Lake City by Western Jet Airlines, 707, and got in Salt Lake City at 2:28 a.m. Reed and Gloria were there to meet us and take us to Logan and HOME. We were so happy to have had such a wonderful trip and were just as happy to be home. It was quite a change to come to 10 below zero from 80 degrees above.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Oliver and I along with…[Jim’s family] went to Southern Utah in June of 1965, and had such a lovely time. We visited Bryce Canyon and it was such a thrilling sight. We also saw the Grand Canyon of the Colorado and Zion Canyon, where we had our breakfast. We then went to St. George and visited Brigham Young’s winter home and also the Jacob Hamblin home. We visited Pipe Springs and the Silver Reef Mine.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">On July 23, 1966, we got our train reservations and went to visit Beth, Karl, and family who were in Peoria, Illinois, for the summer. They showed us many places of interest of early church history including Nauvoo and Carthage. At Springfield we visited Lincoln’s Memorial and many other places of interest. We were gone about three weeks, enjoyed ourselves very much and were real happy when we got home to Utah and a cooler climate.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">For the past twelve years we have taken a trip in the winter to San Bernardino, California, to visit with Jeanie and Blaine and family. We have enjoyed visiting with our children, and they seem to want us to continue our visits as long as we can. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">In 1965, Oliver and I flew to Seattle to visit with Carl and Roberta and family and had a lovely time with them. We had been to Seattle several times before when Nyman was living up there, but this was the first time for us to fly there.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">On April 29, 1967, we celebrated our Golden Wedding Anniversary. We had such a lovely time, and so many of our friends and relatives came to congratulate us for the occasion, in spite of the blizzard going on outside. It started to snow in the morning and as the day wore on it became just like the middle of winter, but in spite of that the people came. All six of our children and twenty grand-children were home for the party. We received so many beautiful flowers and dozens of cards.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><i>(From Vilate Nyman Johnson's history, July 1967)</i> </span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-3374915224494085342013-01-20T07:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:15:58.325-07:00Vilate Nyman Johnson--Part 3<!--[if !mso]>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vilate Nyman Johnson (1917)</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Marriage and Family </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I met my husband-to-be,
Oliver Guy Johnson, at a North Logan social. He was on a threshing crew that
would come out to do the threshing with my brothers Charley, Golden, and
Andrew, and he would stay with the thresher so he attended the social function
of the ward. Our dates consisted of coming to Logan to the public dance on Saturday night
and then to church on Sunday. We went together four years before we were
married. Our courtship was in the horse and buggy days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black;">We were married in the
Logan Temple, 25 April 1917. My husband-to-be came out to North Logan in a
buggy and we went to the Temple
early in the morning. We went on the streetcar to Salt Lake City for our three day honeymoon.
When we got home we had a reception at my home in North Logan and had a wedding
dinner for all the families and a few close friends.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black;">We lived with the Johnsons
the first summer. Oliver had registered for the draft in World War I in April
and his name came up in the first call up in July and he left Logan
the third of October for Camp Lewis,
Washington. I had come to Logan in my father’s buggy
and Elder Sonne had seen the list, and told me it was in the window at the
Herald Journal. Elder Sonne was a neighbor to the Johnsons and a family friend.
I went out to the hay field in North Logan
where Oliver was working and told him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">After
six weeks at Camp Lewis he was sent to Camp Kerney down by San Diego. I left
Thanksgiving Day 1917 to go to California.
My folks didn’t want me to go way down there, but Ollie’s folks thought that
was the place for me to be. I had a job in a small neighborhood grocery store
while I was there. Oliver would only be able to come home on weekends and we
would go to a show on Saturday night and to church on Sunday and then Ollie
would have to leave to go back to camp. We were there about nine months and it
was a very enjoyable time. We went to the zoo many times. Ollie got orders to
go overseas so I had to come home alone on the train. He was in France from
August to January 1918.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">I
worked at the John Anderson Department Store in Logan for the three months and
stayed with my in-laws. Oliver came home on my birthday, 23 January 1918 and I
was very sick in bed with the flu. He got off the train at the Depot on Center
and Sixth West street and had to march to the college before being </span><span style="color: black;">discharged.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black;">That spring we went to our
Dry Farm in Blue Creek which Ollie and his brother James had homesteaded before
he went into the service. We went out in a covered wagon and it took two days.
We came home in July for two weeks to put up the hay, and then went back and
stayed until the planting was all done in the fall. I helped when needed with
drilling, and plowing and hauling water for the horses and the household. From
1918 to 1924, Oliver and I traveled to Blue Creek in a covered wagon.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dYefIWP25o/UO8o3rop4_I/AAAAAAAAJMk/X_TLzNmZ3xw/s1600/Blue+Creek++001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dYefIWP25o/UO8o3rop4_I/AAAAAAAAJMk/X_TLzNmZ3xw/s320/Blue+Creek++001.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vilate and Oliver at the dry farm in Blue Creek</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">In 1919 we bought our first
home and large lot at 537 North Main Street, Logan, Cache County, Utah and it
was here that our first son, Nyman Oliver was born 10 October 1920. James’ wife
Ingeborg came and stayed a few days. Nyman was a very beautiful baby and we
were so thrilled over him</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">We
started going to Blue Creek every other year and changing years with James [Grandpa
Johnson’s brother] and Ingeborg.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">James
Warren was born 25 August 1923 at home and my sister Annie came and helped. Jim
was named after his Grandpa Johnson and after Warren C. Harding, who was
President of the United
States at that time. He was a very sweet
baby with blond hair and blue eyes. He was so good we hardly knew he was
around.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">We
bought our first car in 1924, a 1924 Model T Ford Sedan and in this year, 1968,
we still have it. This helped us out greatly on our trips to Blue Creek.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">On
6 May 1926 our first girl arrived. That morning Ollie was hit by a car and
broke his shoulder. When the doctor came to set it he asked me when I would be
at the end of my rope and I said right now. That night Beth came. We didn’t
know what to name her until the day of Fast Meeting, walking to church we
thought of Beth and both agreed to that. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">August
15, 1929, our third son Jay Reed was born. Beth went and stayed with my sister,
Annie, and Oliver took care of the two little boys while I was in the hospital.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black;">January 20, 1931, another
girl came to bless our home. She had dark hair and blue eyes, we were so happy
over her. We named her Ollie Jean, and she grew up to be a lovely girl. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">On
March 22, </span><span style="color: black;">1934, we had another boy, a rather
cute little guy and of course we <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">all
learned </span>to love him. We called him our baby boy and sometimes we still <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">refer to him </span>as our baby boy, even
though he has grown up and moved away from <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">us. We named </span>him Carl Guy, after his Grandpa Nyman and his father.
In fun we <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">used to call </span>him and
sometimes still do, “Bidda Carl” which is Danish for “little Carl.” </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5oGj47DyPS8/UO8pWbjgOkI/AAAAAAAAJMs/pedzbG1EQzs/s1600/Vilate+Oliver+1935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5oGj47DyPS8/UO8pWbjgOkI/AAAAAAAAJMs/pedzbG1EQzs/s320/Vilate+Oliver+1935.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vilate and Oliver (1935)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span><span style="color: black;"></span></div>
<span style="color: black;"> </span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dga2lEUJP80/UO8ppefo9mI/AAAAAAAAJM0/MHgSP_s5WVA/s1600/OGJ+Family+1943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dga2lEUJP80/UO8ppefo9mI/AAAAAAAAJM0/MHgSP_s5WVA/s320/OGJ+Family+1943.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Oliver and Vilate Johnson family (1943)</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">I
joined the </span><span style="color: black;">Daughters of the Utah Pioneers
(Zina D.H. Young Camp) on May 16, <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">1935.
To join </span>the Daughters of the Pioneers, one has to be a direct blood line
of a <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">pioneer. We </span>meet once a
month and have a lesson pertaining to pioneer history or <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">events and </span>each one of us has to give
a history of our pioneer ancestors. Some of <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">the ladies </span>that have been in the Daughters of Utah Pioneers with
me are: Emma <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Holmgeen, </span>Louise
Poulter, Nora Hansen, Melba Johnson, Mildred Cannon, Clara <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Berntson. </span>I have enjoyed the Pioneers
so very much. I have also been a Relief <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Society
</span>Visiting teacher for many, many years.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XwSKiZq70qQ/UO8qgyM1j4I/AAAAAAAAJNA/F32hqIoNpis/s1600/img864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XwSKiZq70qQ/UO8qgyM1j4I/AAAAAAAAJNA/F32hqIoNpis/s320/img864.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span><span style="color: black;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black;">[Note: Vilate and Oliver
lived at 537 North Main until Oliver’s mother died in 1942 and they moved in
with Oliver’s father at the family home at 100 West 600 North. They took care
of Oliver’s father until he died in 1947. The farm and house were then divided
amongst the children. Oliver got a share of the farm and his brother, Milton,
got the house so Oliver, Vilate, and family needed to move. This is when they
bought the house in the picture above on 200 West where they lived there the
rest of their lives.]</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LCZM7HqQjb8/UO8qs44PRZI/AAAAAAAAJNI/AcWVVvdGcaM/s1600/img825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LCZM7HqQjb8/UO8qs44PRZI/AAAAAAAAJNI/AcWVVvdGcaM/s320/img825.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Oliver and Vilate Johnson family at the time of Carl's wedding (1960</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Usz1gBjT1K8/UO8rH3BCUII/AAAAAAAAJNU/mX5s_5zn6HQ/s1600/img824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Usz1gBjT1K8/UO8rH3BCUII/AAAAAAAAJNU/mX5s_5zn6HQ/s320/img824.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The growing Oliver and Vilate Johnson family at the time of Carl's wedding (1960)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8x6dD4GHnAg/UO8rYFFwIxI/AAAAAAAAJNc/82XcJVFbP-M/s1600/img567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8x6dD4GHnAg/UO8rYFFwIxI/AAAAAAAAJNc/82XcJVFbP-M/s320/img567.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Oliver and Vilate Johnson family at the time of their 50th wedding anniversary (1967)</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black;"> <i>(From Vilate Nyman Johnson' history, July 1967)</i></span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-76494423650272857422013-01-17T07:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:15:39.227-07:00Vilate Nyman Johnson--Part 2 <!--[if !mso]>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">The Years Before Marriage </span></i></b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xc9mnOhazgw/UO8mIQ2PUNI/AAAAAAAAJMM/NygfBHpUjgA/s1600/Vilate+Nyman+1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xc9mnOhazgw/UO8mIQ2PUNI/AAAAAAAAJMM/NygfBHpUjgA/s320/Vilate+Nyman+1908.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vilate Nyman Johnson (1908)</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span><span style="color: black;"></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I attended the Utah State
Agriculture College for one year. I also attended a dressmaking class in Logan and learned how to
sew. The year at the college, my two sisters, Teenie and Dell, had an apartment
and we three stayed in Logan.
When I was taking the dressmaking class I had to walk into Logan
from our home in North Logan, up over the
college hill and then down into town, and then walk home again in the evening.
I did this many, many times. Some times I stayed with my sister Ida and her
husband John, they lived up on the college hill.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I did sewing for my
sisters, Amelia, Ida, and Dell and I would go and stay at their homes for a few
days while I did this. I made a little money this way.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I was baptized on 1 July
1901 in the canal where the canal crosses the Green Canyon Road. This is the
North Logan-Hyde Park canal or as we called it “the upper canal.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was baptized by N. W. Crookston and
confirmed by Ralph Smith.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I
attended the North Logan Ward and was Secretary of the Primary. I taught a
Sunday School class and I sang in the choir and sang for programs many times.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">When
W. J. Allen was teacher in the North
Logan School,
he would sometimes invite the young people to come to the school and dance.
They had a vacant room in the school house and we would dance to a gramophone
and we really enjoyed ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
would take refreshments with us and had an enjoyable time. Mr. Alien and his
wife would be there as chaperones. We all enjoyed it so much and he was so
willing to be there and supervise our entertainment.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">I
helped milk cows since I was a small girl, we had six or eight most of the time.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also worked in the beets, and picked
potatoes and did all kinds of farm work.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">My
mother, Albertina Nyman, had diabetes for many years and as the older children
had left home it was left up to me to take care of the home duties. I made all
the bread and did all the cooking for the family. Mother was in bed for about
five years before I was married and wasn’t able to do much. One time I was
ready to go with a group camping and stay overnight but Mother fell off the
back porch and broke her shoulder so <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">I<i>
</i></span>wasn’t able to go with them.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">To go to choir practice at
night my brother Ernest, would saddle up the horse and I’d ride behind him to
the church. The church activities were our social life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black; mso-no-proof: yes;"><i>(From Vilate Nyman Johnson's history, July 1968)</i></span> </span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-50909351287606609242013-01-15T07:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:15:19.367-07:00Vilate Nyman Johnson--Part 1<style>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vilate Nyman Johnson (1967)</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">January 23 is the 120<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the birth of my grandmother, Vilate Nyman Johnson. In July 1968, at the age of 75, she wrote her history. The next several posts will be from that history. These are her words.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">The Early Years </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I, Vilate Nyman Johnson, was born in North Logan (Greenville), Cache County, Utah, 23 January 1893, the eighth daughter and fourteenth child of Carl and Albertina Loving Nyman. My father and mother were pioneer Swedish emigrants, coming to Utah in 1863 in the same ox team company.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">My father, Carl Nyman, was a tall thin man and had beautiful black curly hair that just laid back in waves. He wore a beard as long as I can remember. He was very strict and when he spoke to us we knew he meant it. He died when he was 84 years old on 19 August 1931. As he was laying in his casket with his silver gray hair, it still had those beautiful waves in it. He was buried in the Logan City Cemetery.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">My mother, Albertina Axelina Loving, was a short woman. As a young girl she was small and slender, but as the years rolled by she became heavier. Her hair was real dark, but as the years passed she too had lovely silver hair. She worked hard with her large family but had a happy life with them. She died 26 July 1925 at the age of 74. She died in North Logan and was buried 29 July 1925 in the Logan Cemetery.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t_XJyaA0HK0/UO8kdjYzzFI/AAAAAAAAJL0/WuW8OHSKuq8/s1600/Nyman+home+oil+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t_XJyaA0HK0/UO8kdjYzzFI/AAAAAAAAJL0/WuW8OHSKuq8/s320/Nyman+home+oil+painting.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Carl and Albertina home in North Logan</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">We had a large kitchen and the table would be pulled out across the room to make places for 12 or 14 when all the family was at home. The kitchen in those days was always the largest room in the house, this was our “family room,” this is where we lived. We got our water from a well. There was always a dipper at the pump, so anyone could get a drink of water at any time.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We had a bench in the kitchen that had a wash basin and a bucket of water with a dipper in the bucket at all times. Above this bench on the wall, was a mirror with a little comb case. Always a comb and brush were there, we didn’t all have our own comb and brush in those days, like we do today.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">We had a very simple but happy home life. We had to work when very young to help with most everything. We raised most everything. Always had a nice vegetable garden, had chickens for eggs and very often had one to stew. We had cows so we had plenty of milk, made our own butter, cured our own meat and many times cured meat for the neighbors. Father had his own smoke house you see.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">To the stores in Logan, my parents took their fresh eggs and home made butter. The butter had been molded into one pound molds, then wrapped in a fine butter paper. Then the products were traded for family supplies.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">The pioneers were also proud of the art of making soap. All old lard, and grease were saved and put into an iron kettle, lye was added along with some water and then boiled and stirred until a jelly mass was formed. They made the years supply of soap this way, and dirt disappeared instantly. They scrubbed their wood floors and they became beautifully white. Clothes were washed on a wash-board, then boiled on a hot stove in a large copper boiler, this made the clothes so white and beautiful. Later they were able to buy hand turned washing machines, this made washing so much more easier. I made home made soap for many years after I was married and it is still one of the best soaps.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">My father, Carl Nyman and my uncle Andrew Nyman owned a molasses mill on the hill south of our home. I can remember as a small girl taking a small bucket up there to get some molasses. My father raised sugar cane and we children would have to strip it down and get it ready to go to the mill. The cane went through two wheels, pulled by a horse hitched to a pole and went round and round in a circle. The juice went into a vat and was cooked until it got to molasses stage.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I went to school at the North Logan School up to the eighth grade. Some of my teachers were: Josephine Maughan, Lofter Bjarson, Katie Cragun, Merlin Hovey, James Cragun, Christian Larsen, William J. Alien, Percilla King, and Rose Daniels. There were two rooms in the school house and four classes to a room. I graduated from the eighth grade in 1908. For school parties we would carry salt, bucket, and the makings for ice cream and hike up Green Canyon until we found snow and there freeze ice cream by hand, by turning the bucket, in the snow, half way round and then back again, all this was done by holding on to the handle of the bucket. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-41whteefHKs/UO8kw1h9wcI/AAAAAAAAJL8/mtMdkCtn6bc/s1600/Carl+Nyman+family,+about+1904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-41whteefHKs/UO8kw1h9wcI/AAAAAAAAJL8/mtMdkCtn6bc/s320/Carl+Nyman+family,+about+1904.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Carl and Albertina Nyman family in about 1904</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; mso-no-proof: yes;"><i>(From Vilate Nyman Johnson's history, July 1968)</i></span><span style="color: black;"></span></div>
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Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7931084704447953552.post-14686250207734794512013-01-05T09:00:00.000-07:002013-02-17T08:12:04.021-07:00Soren Christian Sorensen Malle<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; tab-stops: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">(Note:<b> </b>Karl Brent Somers’ father Wilford Karl
Somers was the son of Elizbuth Melinda Sorensen Somers who was the daughter of
Soren Christian Sorensen Malle)</span></i></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1kD709O1Uic/UOYZOg-zNZI/AAAAAAAAJKo/PQOQ1WD7HlY/s1600/Soren+C+Sorensen+Malle+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1kD709O1Uic/UOYZOg-zNZI/AAAAAAAAJKo/PQOQ1WD7HlY/s320/Soren+C+Sorensen+Malle+001.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">My great grandfather Soren Christian
Sorensen was born 151 years ago today in 1862, in Gudumlund, Denmark to Jens
Christian Sorensen and Ane Kirstine Jensen. Gudumlund appears to be a small
community, perhaps no more than a few farms, outside of Aalborg. Soren was the
seventh of eight children born into this family. Soren’s parents joined the
Church on January 4, 1860. On June 26, 1872 Jens, Ane, and three children,
including my great grandfather, boarded the ship </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-themecolor: text1;">NEVADA</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></i><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">to come to America and Utah. Their oldest
daughter, Ane Cathrine, had left the prior year. Their four other children died
in infancy. The ship arrived in New York on July 8, 1872. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Up until 1826, Denmark utilized the
patronymic naming system to give last names to children. In this system,
Soren’s last name normally would have Jensen or his father’s first name, Jens, plus
the addition of “sen”. The Danish government abolished the patronymic naming
system in 1826 although it took several decades for the Danes to fully adopt
the change. This undoubtedly is why his name was Sorensen rather than Jensen,
but he also went by the last name of Malle—Soren Christian Sorensen Malle. Malle,
which means catfish in Danish, is the name of a place in Denmark. Perhaps it is
the place or near the place where the Sorensen’s originally came from in
Denmark prior to settling in Gudumlund. There isn’t a record of Soren’s father
going by Malle, but his grandfather and great grandfather did use the name
Malle.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Upon arriving in Utah, the family settled
in Sanpete County, perhaps in Ephraim. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">According to our family’s oral history,
Soren proposed marriage to Thirza Malinda Peterson in 1882 when he was 20. She
died before they were married. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">When my great grandmother Mary Bosshart
was about 15, Soren came to her home to ask directions to another home. She went
out to point the way to him. He didn’t look where she was pointing but just
looked straight at her. Soren then became a regular visitor. After Mary’s
brother became ill, many of the neighbors including Soren, would come to sit
with him. During these visits, he and Mary would stay up most of the night
playing cards. One night Mary’s father said, “Soren Sorensen either you marry
that girl or stay away from here.” He couldn’t stay away so shortly thereafter on
November 24, 1886 they were married. He was 24 and she was 16. They were sealed
together in the Manti Temple on February 27, 1889. At Soren’s and Mary’s
sealing, Soren was also sealed to his deceased fiancé, Thirza Malinda Peterson,
with Mary serving as proxy for Thirza. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rwa2ULXPDgg/UOYZOgsGLwI/AAAAAAAAJKg/fnHtOvStstg/s1600/S+C+Sorensen+family+1890abt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rwa2ULXPDgg/UOYZOgsGLwI/AAAAAAAAJKg/fnHtOvStstg/s320/S+C+Sorensen+family+1890abt.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soren and Mary with Edward and Marlin</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Soren and Mary made their home in Willow
Creek in Sanpete County. Mary’s father, John Bosshard, settled Willow Creek in
about 1874. The town’s name changed to Axtell upon the arrival of the railroad
and post office arrived in 1891. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">While they lived in Axtell, they had eight children—Soren Edward,
James Marlin, Elizbuth Melinda (my grandmother), John Henry, Wilford Vinson,
Freeman Leonzy, Mary Ledora, and Meralda Dorthella. Interestingly my
grandmother had the same middle name, Melinda, as Thirza.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkU6Xm8oZTw/UOYZOyMoo_I/AAAAAAAAJKk/qrc9pOYSO9I/s1600/S+C+Sorensen+family+1900abt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkU6Xm8oZTw/UOYZOyMoo_I/AAAAAAAAJKk/qrc9pOYSO9I/s320/S+C+Sorensen+family+1900abt.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">By the early 1900’s, Soren was having an increasingly hard
time supporting a growing family. He heard about land in Box Elder County from
some former neighbors who had moved to East Garland in Box Elder County. Soren
and his son Marlin went to look around. They liked what they saw and bought an eighty-acre
farm. Upon returning to Axtell, Soren told Mary that they had bought a farm
between two big rivers. She said, “I don’t want to live there; I’m afraid of
floods.” But he told her she didn’t need to worry because the riverbanks were
plenty high enough to contain any floodwaters.</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">In 1905, Soren and Mary sold their home in Axtell and
bought a torn down log house. In March, Soren and his sons loaded the logs, all
of their livestock, and a hive of bees on the freight train to move north. Mary
took the younger children and her mother on a passenger train. The train stopped
in Collinston, where the neighbors who had moved before them met them and helped
them move to the farm. They lived with these neighbors until they built a house.
They cleared the farm of sagebrush and made it ready for planting.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">In addition to farming, Soren worked at the sugar factory
in Garland. The factory processed sugar beets into sugar. Soren’s daughter
Dorthella said that Soren would fill his lunch bucket with raw brown lump
sugar, take it home, and give it to the kids as candy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">After the family had been in East Garland for a few years,
a sales agent from a produce company in Ogden sold Soren enough gooseberry
bushes to plant an half acre. The firm would then buy the berries from them.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Three more children—Ira Evan, Walter Marion, and Sidney
Christian—were born to Soren and Mary while they lived in East Garland.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Probably in early August 1910, Soren was repairing a binder
when a handle slipped and hit him braking his collarbone. He was in a lot of
pain and Mary wanted him to go to the doctor. He refused because he felt the
doctor would only cause him more pain. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">On August 10, he sent his second son Marlin out to irrigate
the sugar beets while he trimmed the gooseberries. One of the boys came and
told him that their cows had crossed the Bear River. Soren got his horse and
dog and went down to cross the river and drive them back to their pasture. His
plan was to cross the Bear River, drive the cows back across, and then go up the
river to where the water was shallower to come back across.</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">In the meantime, Mary was outside their home when one of
their sons told her of Soren’s plan. She told him to get down to the river and
drive the cows to the pasture as they came across the river.</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> <span style="color: black;">He soon came back and told
Mary that the cows were still on the other side of the river but the horse was
on their side and there was something black in the river. He said he thought
his father had drowned. Mary went down to the river where the horse was and
found the dog lying by Soren’s hat. She told Marlin to go get help. He went to where
some men were thrashing grain. The news spread and soon there were many people
helping. The women took Mary back to the house. Some of the men got a hay rake and
started dragging the river for Soren’s body. They found his body in the early
afternoon. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Soren’s obituary said he had fallen off or
been thrown off the horse. The doctor at the scene said he didn’t drown as he
didn’t have any water in his lungs. He either died from a blood clot or a heart
attack.</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2m9podF2h-E/UOYZPjKvDGI/AAAAAAAAJKs/QFZ53n5CHUE/s1600/Soren+C+Sorensen+portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2m9podF2h-E/UOYZPjKvDGI/AAAAAAAAJKs/QFZ53n5CHUE/s320/Soren+C+Sorensen+portrait.jpg" width="186" /></a><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">Soren died at the age of 48. He was buried in the East
Garland Cemetery on August 12. At the time of his death, he left a family of 10
children. The eldest son, Soren Edward was serving a mission Norway and their
youngest son Sidney Christian was born 10 days later. In the midst of this
tragedy, Marlin said to Mary, “Don’t cry, Mother, I will help you raise the family.”
He was like a father to the children. Mary always kept a picture of Soren over
her bed.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Adapted from the “History of Soren Christian
Sorensen Malle” by Dorthella Sorensen Selman, Soren’s and Mary’s eighth child
who was six at the time of Soren’s death.)</i></span></div>
Brent Somershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05825934570588278068noreply@blogger.com4