Life Story of Melvin J. Porter
Written by Melvin J.
Porter for the "Wilford Austin Porter, Alice Elnora Johnson Family
Histories" book compiled by MelDee and LuAnn Cox Porter August 7, 1981
I was born
on February 15, 1922 in Smoot, Wyoming;
Dr. West helped in the delivery.
Our close, good neighbor, Sister Taggart assisted my mother. I learned to respect this fine lady.
I was named
after apostle Melvin J. Ballard. This
man spoke to and was embraced by Jesus Christ and was told He was well pleased
with him. This has always given me a
goal to work for.
I was the
second of eight children born to my parents.
My father was Wilford Austin Porter and my mother was Alice Elnora
Johnson Porter. I had two brothers and
five sisters. Max Wilford Porter, Eva
Porter Nyberg, Della Mae Porter Gibbons, Louise Porter Collins, Florence Porter
Neuenschwander (Seegmiller), Betty Porter Pendleton, and Lyn Austin Porter.
When I was
about seven years old my family went with the team to visit the Canning's. While there, I took several marbles home in
my pocket. The next day I was found out
by my mother. She made me return the
marbles to the Canning family. This was
a good lesson for me.
One of the
first things I can remember and still remember was a dream I had. It was so real. I thought I was back in my heavenly
home. There was a large living room with
carpet and drapes, and a long winding staircase the color of brass. How I wanted to stay, but I knew I had to
leave. After waking up, I still wanted
to return there.
I think
there was nothing I wanted worse in this life than a kiddy car, but I learned
to live without it. I still remember the
deep feelings I had as I saw others with them.
There was
one nickname I had, "Books." I
don't know why I was called this for I was not a book worm. At Christmas time we had lots of candy and
nuts to eat, games to play and made over toys such as hand sleighs and wagons.
Dad gave me
a pony, "Nip," a beautiful black.
A while later Dad wanted to sell the pony to get more hay for the other
stock. I wouldn't give in. A short time later the horse died of colic
caused by eating old moldy hay. I felt
bad and shed a few tears.
The gypsies
used to come. I thought they would take
everything because they didn't have anything.
My brother, Max, and I felt sorry for them. Wow, was Dad mad. They offered us money but we wouldn't take
it.
My close
friends in school were Earl Johnson and Reed Schwab. We played marbles. I was a good shot, but used poor judgment,
usually ending up losing my marbles. My
brother, Max, was a fair shot and using good judgment, he brought home lots of
marbles. He had won a large sack of
them. One day as we were playing I
started to claim some of his marbles. An
argument developed. Father became upset,
took the sack of marbles and threw them down a large dirt hole in the mud. We recovered a few of them. To this day, 50 years later, I still feel
guilty about how Max must have felt.
There were other times we got in hot water. Max, being the oldest, got most or all of the
correction. He got lots of lickings
because of me. I don't know if he has
ever forgiven me: I hope so.
I started
school at 6 1/2 years, my teacher was Cholotelle Hill, (Griffeth). At age 7, I started to milk cows two or
three. This you might not believe;
Mother told me years later that I milked at age 7.
One day Dad
and Mother left us kids home alone. I
was perhaps 8. It was cold and we had no
fire. I got the wood in the old cook
stove, then tried to get it to burn. No luck! I then did what I had been told never to do,
but I had seen my father do. I picked up
a full gallon bottle of gasoline, poured a little in the stove. The bottle caught fire. I sat the bottle down and grabbed a bucket of
water, pouring it on top. It never went
out. I then picked up the bottle and
carried it very carefully out in the yard.
I got more water. No luck. I then picked up the bottle and started
toward the ditch. It got too hot to
hold. I threw it at the ditch. It exploded in the air, throwing fire back to
the side of me. It's a miracle that my
life didn't end there.
Finally, I
got to be eight years old. This was a
great year for I was old enough to be baptized.
Joseph Allen baptized me in Cottonwood Creek. I don't think I understood much about it,
only that my sins were gone and I had a new start. I think that my Primary teachers had more affect
on me in life than all the other teachers, except my parents.
My brother
Max had a horse named Bess. We went
riding up through the trees one day, I went on "Nip." We decided to race home two separate routes. I had to cross under a big tree with low
hanging limbs. These limbs caught me,
pushing me towards the rear of the horse when they let loose. I was thrown forward by the reins of the
bridle over the horses head to the ground on my back. The horse came to a stop, holding her foot
over my face. I can still see that hoof.
It always
seemed to me that there was something or some unseen person protecting me,
telling me what to do. There was another
time Dad sent us boys to cut down a dry tree for wood. We went with the team and sleigh. We stopped the team about 20 feet from the
tree. I stayed with the team, standing
in the sleigh box. Max cut the tree
down. It fell directly toward the front
of the sleigh. I threw a stick at the
horses, they ran and the tree hit the front of the box. I dove down in the middle of the sleigh
box. The pressure of the moving sleigh
caused the tree to raise up, letting me pass under it. It came crashing back down again behind me, destroying
all of the sleigh box except where I lay.
I had a fast ride until what was left of the box caught another tree,
pulling it from the sleigh. Dad was very
unhappy with us. This little experience,
I think, has helped to keep us close together as brothers.
My father
took lots of pride in his driving team.
I thought they were the best trotters in town, also the best pulling
team. They weighed about 1800 pounds
each. They were high spirited and true
blue to pull, and it seemed that they could break anything. My father took lots of pride in his stock,
his yard, and fences. He seemed to
always put over the idea of always being the best in whatever you were
doing. Dad liked new cars and had
several. I believe Dad was at his best
when he talked about the church, his testimony.
It always seemed to me that Dad was a hard worker. He had great compassion for people in
need. He always spoke with respect and
love for people. He was the best man I
ever knew; how I miss him, he so honored his Mother and Father.
My Mother
also took pride in her work, always making new clothes out of hand-me-downs for
8 children. She supported father by
milking, or helped in the hay field.
Mother was always trying to help us kids make the right choices. We always had a large garden. Mother did most of the work in it. She was a great hand to take food to the
neighbors when there was a need. If
there was sickness Mother was always there.
She and Dad took time to play with us kids. Those are great days gone by.
The first
home I remember was in Smoot. It was a
two-room home about 12 x 20 feet with a lean built on the side. The lean was used for the kitchen and a
bedroom. The floor was rough
lumber. This lumber had shrunk, leaving
cracks so you could see the ground. Boy
was it cold in that bedroom where Max and I slept! In the kitchen they covered the lumber with
linoleum. We had no running water at
this time. Water was packed from the
nearby creek. Many mornings the water bucket
was frozen-you could get a little water out of the bucket if you took a knife
and broke a hole in the center. The
other part of the home was used as a living room and bedroom. It was much warmer in there by the big black
stove.
The second
home was in Forest Dell, 6 miles south of Smoot. This was the home that my grandfather,
Wilford Porter, built. It was located on
a small hill with big quake asp trees.
We had no running water in the home.
The back house was just below the home.
We boys thought it was great fun throwing rocks at that place when the
girls went in. It seems to me that the
place was a playhouse for Eva, Della Mae, and Louise. I can go back there today and see where we
kids carved our initials in the trees with a big heart with that of our boy or
girl friend's initials. There was one
year the squirrels were so thick, I was able to run and catch one of them. It took a nice bite out of my finger. I never grabbed another!
It was at
our second home that we as a family had our greatest fun. The snow got deep. We almost slid into the back door of our
home. It was a great place to ride on
the crust. We had several hand
sleighs. Sometimes we ran into
trees. While living there we had most of
the childhood diseases. My sister, Eva,
had long black hair when she got measles, losing her long hair. It never again was long, quite short. As I think of her, she was not one to demand
much of anything. I can see her out in
the field raking hay, when we boys should have been doing it. When it came to playing games, she was very
cautious. We boys could never out smart
her. It was quite different with Della
Mae and Louise. They were quite easy to
out-fox. But when it came to going
places, on dates, they were almost impossible to out maneuver. It seemed to me that Della Mae and Louise got
all the breaks. I thought it was Della
Mae's clever talk and Louise's red hair--that's why they got to go everywhere.
Florence and
Betty were perhaps 10 and 12 years old.
They really loved their dolls.
Lyn was born in 1936 on April 12.
On that day there was 6 feet of snow on the level. It was 1939 that Dad built a new home in
Smoot. Now we had running water, central
heat and electric light.
In the years
1925 to 1938 we lived back and forth from the Smoot home in the winter and the
Forest Dell home in the summer. It was
in the year 1930 that everybody was talking about how hard it was (money). The school was heated with blocked wood. One school day I was asked to throw the
blocks from the saw machine. This I did
with a promise that I would receive 10¢.
I started at 9 o'clock a.m. and ended at 3:30 p.m. I was able to keep all blocks away. After it was finished I received 5¢. I took the 5¢ into the school house and
showed the janitor what I had. It
slipped from my fingers behind a small board.
It was still in sight. The janitor
said we could get a knife tomorrow and get it out. Tomorrow came and the nickel was gone.
In that same
year, and the year before we kids rode a covered wagon pulled by horses from
Smoot to Forest Dell, seven miles away.
At this time Doc Kingston was the driver. This took him about four hours a day. He furnished the wagon, team, and wood to
keep it warm. He received $25 a
month. The last month of school the
school district ran out of money. After
that the parents took turns hauling us kids.
The teachers, I think, taught for nothing or very little. It was also at this time my father milked
about 20 cows. His milk check for two
weeks was $17. I know this to be true
for I found an old milk check stub when I remodeled the old home in 1950. We milked the cows by hand. I milked two or three cows at the age of
seven. At about this same time my father
sold a cow to the Government for $12.50.
This cow was shot in our corral.
The neighbors and family divided the cow. There was no market for beef and too many
cattle, that's why the Government was in the business.
Times surely
must have been tight. My father had a
few pigs. Dad decided to butcher one of
them. He borrowed the neighbors 22-rifle
and two shells. After killing and
scalding the pig in a fifty gallon barrel of hot water, the pig was scraped to
get the hair off. Then it was cleaned
and hung up over night. My father sent
me back to the neighbors with the 22-rifle, some bacon, and a roast. I was also told to thank them. The lady said, "Tell your father he owes
us two cents for the shells." My
father sent me back with the two cents, but was a little shook up.
My mother
and father got a small battery radio. I
can only remember one add that was on the radio station. They would say, "We are about broke, if
any of you could send us 10¢, 25¢, or 50¢, we will stay on the air." The show I wanted to hear was, "Gang Busters
Air Adventurers of Jerry Allen."
I don't
remember needing much money. We made our
own fun. We got together as neighbors
and played kick the can, pig in the meeting, and bonfires, rode sleighs, went tobogganing,
went horse riding, and had homemade candy.
I think the best of all was throwing each other in the ditch. These things were all better when Mother and
Dad would join in. Swimming in the
gravel pit with live pollywogs was fun.
These were great days with Max, Eva, Della Mae, Louise, Florence and
Betty. Lynn was a little young for our rough stuff. I remember one time Max and I was playing
along the road where the neighbor milked his cows. In those days, they put their milk in 10
gallon cans. We thought it was great fun
to put rocks in the can. We found one
rock that would just slip in. After it
was in the can, we thought we ought to get it out. We put our arms and hands in there with no
success. Father was the milk hauler at
this time. When he came home that day after
hauling the milk and said to Mother, "The funniest thing happened
today." He told her about the
rock. We kept our secret for many years.
During the
years 1932 to 1936 Dad worked away for the forest and Bureau of Public
Roads. Max did most of the mowing. Mother tried to tell us boys what to do. I used to say to myself, "Mother we know
more about this than you do. Why don't
you leave us alone?" I wonder if
all boys are as foolish? Mother and Max
ran the buck rake, Earl Christopherson stacked the hay, I drove the pull
off. Father worked all hours after he
came from the other jobs. My clothes
were mostly hand-me-downs from relatives.
I remember that the pants got so thin behind I could scratch my behind
and just fell a few strings. My shoes
were so bad that when I went into the field, I had to watch every step to keep
the stubble from cutting my feet. When
company came to the house, I would head out the back door to hide my rear-end. They said I was bashful. This was a hard time. I don't blame anybody; mother had six
children to take care of, milked the cows, helped with haying, washed on a
board, cooked and still had other chores.
It was about
the time I started high school that Dad had taken on a milk hauling job. Times had improved. I only went five weeks and quit. I helped Dad put in a pipe line. This was the first running water we had in
the house. The next year I was ready for
school, being two years younger than Max and failing the second grade. That put him starting to college. Dad gave us boys a can of milk to send to the
creamery. The check amounted to about
$15.00 every two weeks. (We got this
during the summer). When school started
I was told Max needed it for college.
With this money and a job he got, he was able to stay in school.
My mother
would put up a lunch for us kids and I would leave mine home. The school had started the hot lunch program,
which cost 10¢. I felt embarrassed to
pack a lunch. I'd just make myself as inconspicuous
as possible while they were eating. By
the time I became a Senior we had a little money. I enjoyed my schooling and was able to
graduate, being about an average student.
We had lots of dances at this time.
I always tried to dance with my sisters and mother if they were
there. I called them my duty dances. Just before graduation, we Seniors had our
Senior Sneak to Pocatello, Idaho. We had
one more student than the bus could carry.
The advisor said we could each take turns standing. We did this on the way down. Starting home about 10:00 p.m. I gave up my
seat to Jean Pringle. Everyone went to
sleep and I remained standing until we got home.
I was 12
years old when ordained a Deacon by Wilford W. Porter on 6 May 1934, a Teacher
by Arthur F. Burton on 14 March 1937, a Priest by Joseph Allen on 7 May 1939,
and Elder by Royal S. Papworth on 30 March 1941, and High Priest by President
E. Francis Winters on 4 May 1952. I
thought a lot of the church and tried to do the things I was asked to. It was impressed upon me to remember who I
was and what I represented. I remember
my grandfather Johnson's funeral in December of 1936. He was 72.
He had asked a friend two days before his death, Brother Jensen, as they
walked down the street to tell his family the thing he regretted most in this
life was that he didn't take more interest in the church. My Grandfather died at 2:00 a.m. Brother Jensen said that he was awakened by a
dream at 3:00 a.m. about Charles Johnson.
It so shook him up he could not sleep the rest of the night. He told his wife there was something wrong
over to Charlie Johnson's home at about 5:00 a.m. He learned of his death about 10:00 a.m. This story hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew the church was true. I was so impressed. I couldn't keep from thinking about it. I was 14 years of age when this took place.
During my
senior year, December 7, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Just before being drafted October 22, 1942 I
received my Patriarchal Blessing from Ray S. Thurman and found that I was of
the lineage of Ephriam. It also said
that I would preach the gospel at home and abroad. I have had many opportunities to do
this. While in the service, I was
stationed in Alabama, Georgia; Seattle, Washington ; Mori, Hawaii; Oahu,
Hawaii; and Osaka, Japan. It was not my
lot to be placed in combat, this I am grateful for. I had no desire to have to take another's
life. I had some close calls in
training; once turning a jeep over.
I spent
three years and four months in the service.
I was paid $50 a month for 16 months and $70 for the remaining
time. I was able to pay an honest
tithing to the church. I always had
money and a good time. I was able to
save $1,800 during that time. The reason
I saved money was so I could go on a mission for the church when I got
home. I never told anyone of my
goal. I received my discharge from the
army January of 1946. There was lots of
temptation in the army. These came from
my close friends trying to get me to drink-to lower my standards and visit the
women. It seemed to me that they were
possessed with a great desire to get me to indulge. It got so strong that I even began to wonder
if I was taught right. It was a great
day when I was to leave to come home.
The fellow that was most persistent in trying to lower my standards came
and bid me off. He said, "If I
could live like you I would give anything."
I went back
to working on the farm thinking that the Bishop (Bruce) would ask me to go on a
mission. I started dating the girls, had
a lot of fun going places, doing different things. By February 1947, I was getting serious about
one-VaLoy. When the bishop asked me to
go on a mission, I thought about it and decided at my age I should get
married. VaLoy was lots of fun to be with. She was always happy, laughing, and
singing. I told others she was the
personality kid. She was eight years
younger than I, but in many ways more ready for marriage than I. We were married on June 21, 1947 in the Logan
Temple by Elray L. Christiansen. We went
up through Yellowstone Park on our honeymoon.
While there, I was taking a picture of a mother bear and cubs. The mother bear took after me. I was lucky, she almost got me. VaLoy was always loving, kind, considerate
and jolly. Her home has always been neat
and clean.
We rented
our first home from Sister Hill, two miles north of Smoot for $10.00 a
month. We then moved to Smoot in a home
10 x 16 feet; just room for a bed, table, two chairs, and a wood stove. We finally moved and bought my father's farm
six miles south of Smoot. We paid
$13,000, my missionary money, $1,800, was used for a down payment. We farmed here for a few years with father's
help, and his machinery. At times I
worked for Jim Gohm at his sawmill for $1.00 per hour. Mr. Gohm was a poor, but honest man. I took half my pay in cash and the other half
in two heifers-$125 each. I took the
heifers and borrowed enough money to buy eight cows at $225 each from Delos
Anderson. That first milk check sure
looked good, $110.00. I had great goals
and ideas about how I would improve my farm, but seemed to get side tracked by
salesmen. We bought our first car from
Heber Anderson for $225.00. He was
leaving on a mission. The car was not
worth $100.00 and I knew it but because of what he was going to do, I felt good
about it.
In the
spring of 1947, I was asked to be a counselor in the Sunday School to Harry Johnson. I quite enjoyed this. In 1948 or 49, I was asked to be Elders
President over the Smoot and Osmond Elders, with 67 Elders. I knew very little about the job. The other officers were Dell Schwab, Second
Counselor; Bill Swenson, First Counselor and Ivan Roberts as Secretary. I learned to love those men and still think
of them with great respect. In my weak
way I tried to be a good president. I
received some open criticism of my performance.
This had quite an effect on my feelings.
As I look back on the experience, I don't think I was a good president,
maybe fair, but I tried. If I would have
only received a little instruction from the stake or perhaps I was just slow to
learn.
On May 11,
1952, I was put in the Bishopric as Second Counselor to Bishop Elmer Lancaster
in the Smoot Ward. This was a great
challenge to me and I took my calling seriously. I had lots of opportunities to talk, visit
the sick, and sit in counsel. My love
for the people increased. I was released
from the Elder's Presidency in June 1952.
One day in
April of 1952, I decided to start a business down on the road; cabins, gas
station and café. Taking my
Father-in-law as a partner, who was a poor man having very little money. I went to my Aunt Irene and told her of my
great idea. She loaned me $1,500 on a
three year contract. No security, jut my
signature on a note. We started to build
about the 1st of May. My Father-in-law
was a rough carpenter and had poor health.
I was less experienced in building.
By the first of August we were able to open our café. Leon and Gladys and LaDene ran the place,
hiring a little help. This venture
didn't work out in harmony. I sold my
interest to Leon with a promise he would pay me when he was able.
In July of
1955, we got a snow storm four inches deep. I was a little discouraged so VaLoy and I
sold our ranch to Dell Lancaster for $25,000.
We finished paying father for the ranch and other bills. Leaving us with about $12,000. I was released from the Bishopric in the fall
of 1955. I now started working for the
church in Murray, Utah. Here I learned
to manage dairy cows better. Our first
son, Layne, started school here. When
spring came I quit my job and returned back to my hometown. I wondered what I would do and if I could
find another farm. It seemed as if I was
being guided. The first Sunday that I
was home, my father and I went to the Stake Priesthood Meeting. Gilbert Anderson, while talking to my father,
said, "Do you know anyone who would like a good farm?" This was in April 1956, we bought the
Anderson ranch, 405 acres, in Grover, Wyoming-the cost being $80,000. I never got much encouragement to do
this. People told me to leave it alone. Carl Robinson, the banker, said that the
place had been lost four times before and that I couldn't make it. Father urged me on. It's been tough but I'm still here in 1981,
owing $17,000. People thought I was
crazy to buy the Anderson Ranch. I think
I would have lost it if my father would not have given me of his time day after
day and the use of his machinery. This I
am most grateful for. I don't know if I
ever thanked him. He was a great Dad.
In May of
1956, I was put in as advisor to the Priest Quorum in Grover Ward. I enjoyed this calling for two months. Bishops were changed and I was released. i was then asked to be a counselor to Marvin
Hepworth in Sunday School. It was hard
to be on time. I milked 40 cows and
fences were poor. I couldn't hold the
cows in the meadow, they were always out on Sunday morning. I told Marvin that perhaps I should be
released so he would have some help on time.
I served in the Sunday School for three months. At this same time, I was asked to go with the
High Council Sunday evenings for three months.
I finally got the fences up and the cows held. During this time I never missed attending any
of my meetings. As I write this I really
wonder how I did it. I had some cows
bloat. Now that the fences were up, I
was in hopes that the church would need my services again. I have always been a home teacher, this I've
tried to do with sincere feeling for the calling. For a
while I was secretary to the High Priest group. It was about this time I was called to be a
Stake Missionary. I enjoyed this for two
years, indirectly, one person came into the church because of my efforts. This pleased me very much.
I have a
strong testimony of the church. I have
loved to work in it. Something within my
very soul tells me it is true. It is
hard for me to understand why others don't feel as I do and would want to be
part of it. My feeling at this time was
how can I live so that my children will remain strong in the church and have a
desire to serve wherever called. It was
a constant feeling. What a good feeling
was mine as Layne, Eileen, MelDee, and McKell went on missions for the church. Eileen, MelDee and McKell were all out at the
same time. There were times I would
think where is the money coming from. It
was always there. I know the Lord looked
after our needs.
During the
growing up of my children from about 1959-1975, I never had any church jobs
except Home Teaching. Oh, how I longed
for a job, nothing happened. I began to
wonder why, what is wrong with me? Why
doesn't anyone want me to help them in this great work? I feel so left out. I shed many silent tears. As I write about it my feelings are so worked
up. I felt like I was being left
behind. Oh, how I could have grown if
opportunity had come my way. One day I
asked one of the Bishops that was released, why they never used me. He said, "I guess we thought you were
too busy." What a shame, I thought,
that my property should stand in the way of the things I love the most.
In 1969 my
Father and Mother sold me their property in Smoot. I tried to get them to sell this to someone
else. My Father said he didn't want it
out of the family. I took the deed and
offered it to all my brothers and sisters at Father's price $37,000. This property has taken much effort and time.
It was in
November of 1960 that my sister, Eva, passed away of a liver disease. She was buried in Indianapolis, Indiana. It was my good luck that I stayed in her home
two different times for about 10 days.
Now I was able to get to know her as a woman and know of her great
desires to serve the Lord. I also got to
know her husband and how he changed his ways and joined the church. Eva so wanted him and her to go to the House
of the Lord and be sealed for time and all eternity. This she was able to do a short time before
her passing.
It was May
15, 1973 that my Mother passed away of a heart attack. This was her second. She told me how it hurt and kissed me good-by
and said she loved me. What tender
feelings we have. Surely this is not the
end, but only the beginning of a better day.
I love you Mother! I talked at
her funeral. I think of her feelings for
each of us children, her doings, her wanting for us, her thinking and her
sensing what she really wanted for herself, Father and us children. I've seen her shed tears of joy, and tears of
sadness. Surely this is only part of the
road to perfection.
My father
passed away August 20, 1975. It fell my
lot to be at Father's side when he passed on.
What a surge of emotion takes place.
I cried out, "Oh Dad, how I love you!" The best man I ever knew was gone. The greatest lesson I ever learned about life
was taught by him.
One day in
1975 I was asked to be the teacher over the Gospel Doctrine class in Sunday
School. This was a great blessing to
me. It was such a good feeling to be
needed. I did this for about two years.
It was about this time we built a new home. This has been a great joy to my darling
wife. It was about a year later that my
son, Layne caught his motorcycle on fire, causing the old home to burn almost
down.
In 1978 I
was asked to be Second Counselor in the Stake Sunday School. This was certainly different than other
experiences I have had. I was released
from this in October of 1980.
We have been
blessed with seven children-Layne, Eileen, MelDee, McKell, Deanne, Lori, and
Errol. They all seem to have been
blessed with obedient spirits. None of
them has ever given me any real trouble.
Their personalities are all different.
They all have been blessed with musical ability-singing and playing
different things. This they have used to
entertain others and bless them. Their
mother has been their greatest help in this.
They have all helped me with my work on the farm. Sometimes even quite long hours. I have had the privilege to listen to each of
their heartaches and anxieties. Not
always knowing what to tell them, but to trust in the Lord and all will work
out. This seems to be still true. Now that six of them are married, I still
listen to their problems. I still say,
"Keep the faith and trust in Him, and all will work out.
To my
children I would say, "Be honorable.
Love your wives and you husbands.
Keep the covenants. Cling to that
which is good. Always look for the best
in others. Trust in yourself and you
God. Know that all will work out for
your good and benefit. Look out and up
and reach for the stars and great shall be you accomplishments. Only you can shorten what can be done."
I have now
been married 33 years to a loving and kind wife. She has been and still is a great helpmate to
me. She has a jolly disposition. VaLoy has laughed wit me and at me, always
trying to get me to see the bright side of things. I don't think it has always been easy for her
to put up with me, especially since I got Sugar Diabetes. It is so easy to not have positive
thinking. With her help it has been much
easier. During these years, we have gone
a few places. We should have spent more
time on dates together. One of our trips
we went down South through Texas, Alabama, Georgia, and to Indiana where Eve
lived. We went again to Indiana when Eva
was quite sick. As we traveled through
the South, VaLoy could not stay awake. I
guess it was the heat and low climate.
We went to California to pick up Eileen and visit Disneyland. We went to St. Louis, Missouri where Eileen
lived also. Last year we went to Seattle
to visit Eileen's family. As I write
this, I think to myself, "Who could have helped me more during these
years-teaching and training my children, always loving to me and putting up
with my short comings?" I love
her. It has been a good and fruitful
life with her. Man I would miss her if
she were to leave. She has special
ability decorating her home. It has a
personality like her-exciting to enjoy.
I think she has given much to make life better for me. Her children and I have been blessed with her
musical ability. Her children all love
and respect her. What more could a man
ask in life.
Now the
people tell me I'm old, I don't feel so.
I must tell one more thing. (My
thoughts) As a young man of perhaps 15, I used to think how great it would be
to give money or material things to those in need, but never let anyone know
about it. This is one of the great goals
in life I've had. Some would think this
silly but what little I've done has been the greatest. I think now a little time is just as
important-perhaps more so. To those that
might read this, I would say try it.
Don't give up on your goals. It
will help you stay young. Youthful ideas
are the greatest.
