Dictated on a tape recorder April 1967
I am Charles Andrew Olds and I was born over in Lyman, Wayne County, 30 May 1894. We left -- We used to call that Rabbit Valley over there- Anyway we left Lyman - Yes I remember going to school over there. Well we left there and came down to Monroe a short time. I can remember irrigating grain -- all of us-- down in the fields, kids and everything. Were there on Granddad Hunt’s farm. This water used to come down and Granddad used to yell, “Oh here comes the water.” It was a big stream in those days, Off the Sevier River you know. We’d all grab a shovel and away we’d go and it kept us busy irrigating back and forth, turning all this stuff. I think that was where Dewey was born in Monroe. Then we left Monroe. Dad had hemorrhage of the nose and we left there. It did the same way over in Lyman. And we come over in Summit and we stayed in Summit possibly two years. I ran across one of those Hulet girls down in the Hospital in St. George. It was when I got Merrill out of the hospital and I wrote a check out and she asked me if I knew those Hulets up there and she asked me what their name was, so I told her. There was John and Nephi and two girls, I forget their names. But we stayed there for two years and went to school there -- the whole flock of us. We landed down in Toquerville in the fall of, I think about, 1901.
I don’t remember the date when I was baptized (6 September 1902 by John T. Batty. Confirmed 7 September 1902 by Riley C. Savage) but I can remember when it was. I was baptized down at the Hans Anderson place down in Toquer. Then we was baptized in the Nephi Temple (Sealed to parents in Manti Temple) but I don’t remember much about that. Yes, I remember when we went to the Manti Temple to be sealed to our parents. It was the Manti Temple and they brought us in there and they had some attendants and they got a hold of us and lined us up; I suppose in the order of our ages, I don’t know. But I can remember that as well as today. We went over there; in those days they had these old covered wagons or white top buggies. I don’t remember how long ago that was (1898). I can remember going over there, but I don’t know who was there. I guess Arthur was with us, he was about the baby.
We landed down there (Toquerville) in about 1902. and near as I can remember we stayed with Grandmother in her house for a short time - not long- and we rented a house right straight across the street for where Arthur lives now. There was four houses on that block. There was the Hamonds, the Forsythe lot where we rented, and the other place had two or three names it was know by - Joe Sylvester place, Rass Anderson place and Bill Lamb place at that time. Then there was the place that Uncle Bill (Theobald) had, that Harvey Theobald tore down and rebuilt. He tore all three of those houses down.
About Louis’ death - I don’t have much recollection. I can’t remember too much about that, but still I have a faint remembrance about it.
Well, anyway we came to Toquerville and we lived there for quite a while. Levi got big enough to work around and he and George picked up jobs. We accumulated this lot right south of Arthur from Old Man William’s. I can’t remember his first name, but he got drowned in Dry Creek. We bought this lot from him, then we bought the one where Mark Lamb’s house is now from Old Man Davis. This old Man Davis is those Bringhurst grandparents. We traded these two lots and some cows and something else. White horse, named Charlie, Yah, he was a good old horse I can remember, for that Pintura property.
We went over there and Dad and Joe Sylvester got a contract running the mail from Bill Lamb - Old Bill Lamb- not the one you know about. Dad took it from Pintura to Cedar City, seems like the price was about $360 a year. Maybe that was for both of them, I don’t know. They run that about a year or so, with Levi and George, they got old enough to help Dad out. Used to have a lot of teams, lots of horses. Needed them in that day, and we farmed a little over there after we got this other. We got the mail line before we got this other (property) I think, but I wouldn’t be sure. We lived at Toquerville at the time. We run that for quite a while and accumulated this little property where Tommy Parkinson lives now. Lived there for, I don’t know how long. Had all kinds of jobs. Bill used to say that he took the cows up in this hills bunch of grass up in there, and he used to take the cows up in there and if they didn’t come back we’d have to go get them in the evening. Course, we had good horses, but lots of time we’d be too tired to get on the horses so we’d go on foot. Had a bell on one or two of the cows.
Don’t remember any Christmas’. We used to have lots of - I remember Christmas all right, but in those days you didn’t have too much, you had to make your own presents, you know what I mean. Mother used to make those things, like popcorn and string it up on strings and hang it around the house and make this old sorghum candy, plenty of apples, nuts, and things like that, but you didn’t have any commercial stuff. Mother would make us a pair of pants or shirt or something like that. She used to knit us socks. Mother used to knit these little wrist bands for all the kids and it kept your wrists warm.
Of course, there was only one girl, Louie, and we all got run in on helping with the washing. It was a big one - a pile of pants that high of dirty overalls. There was at least two us helped with the washing. We used to have two washers. One of them we used to push his way over and back and the other one you turned the handle on it. We’d take turns -- Mother had the two of them a goin’. She’d heat the water outside in big black tubs, had two tubs goin’. Out back of the house there was two big pear trees and a big almond tree and a cherry tree. The cherry tree was here and the almond tree was here and a pear there and another pear there - and she’d wash out underneath that. Out along the south there was about five of those big poplar trees. We used to come in the back of the house, like I was telling Leither the other day- we used the back of the house ten times more than we did the front. We had a cistern in those days. We had to pump water out. Sometime we’d be too tired to pump so we’d take a bucket and tie a rope on it and drop it down in and haul the water out. We had water run down through in a pipe in a ditch and we’d use that -- Mother did to wash clothes with. We’d pack it up for her and Mother would, of course, make this homemade soap you’d get from the pigs, I guess, and sheep and stuff to get the fat. We’d render the fat out to make soap.
Well, another little thing I want to bring out for ole Bill’s special attention. We’d been a washing all day, and we had these big tubs out laying around and we’d pack them off to empty. Mother would have us get a hold of them and pack them off and dump them in the ditch to let them drain down as they were all soapy and dirty. Well, it was the year Beth and Bill got married, and we’d been there eating watermelons and we’d forgot to take this big No. 4 tub out. It was about 2/3 full of ole dirty sloppy water where Mother had been boiling some old dirty overalls, or underwear, I don’t know which it . Well. I have been doing something with Beth and I was going to wash her face or something with watermelon rinds, and she backed up away from me and sat down right in this old tub. Well, the water just came up just where it had a little chance and it just came up right into my face. Bill was quite concerned abut it --thought he had lost a wife (laughter). So he and I, we put out foot down on the edge of the tub and she was just wedged in and it was wet and soapy and you know how it would stick. And when she came up it sounded like an old cow. I can remember that. Old Bill used to come down and they lived there with us for a little while. Beth was a lot of fun, she’d never get sore at you and would laugh and jaw and have a lot of fun with us.
We lived there - Bill lived with us then he left and went over on the Sevier River somewhere; most of the time lived at Kanarraville. About that time I got to chasing around and got some jobs. I got a job working driving the mail from Harmony down to Leeds. Make a trip down and back in the same day on horseback. Then they changed the contract from Harmony to Toquerville. Hans Anderson got that job. I just turned sixteen and I had to go down there and I put my left hand in the air and swear before they’d let me take the mail out of the post office. I drove that awhile and George took it later on for me when I got all the money I need. Got a dollar a trip and you’d stay over in Harmony all Sunday and go to church up there when you got a chance.
Then I got another job in Harmony for awhile and I did darn good work for him, but he never paid me. I can’t remember his name, anyway he never did pay me for my work. I had about $45 or $50 and I wished I had it a time or two. I worked around at different places and finally I went to school, about 1914, I believe, the fall I went to school. I went up and Levi was there. I graduated from Toquer then I went up to Cedar. I graduated when I was fifteen years old and I took all this money I earned driving mail to go to school that winter. Yea, I went to BAC Branch Agricultural College. I went up with Levi, Leonard and Billy Slack and I stayed there to Ashdowns. Your dad (Levi) was working for them and we was boarding there with them. And on Saturdays and sometimes on Sundays they’d have us help them haul hay or go up and get a load - they was in the lumber business, you know --we’d go up and get a load of lumber or a load of logs or something. Then they had a couple of horse - they had a race horse they wanted me to exercise, which I did, and they had a bronco horse they wanted me to ride, and I used to ride him out to Squaw Cave south of Cedar up in there. I’d get on him every day after school and they paid me a little bit - fifty cents, I think, but I would have paid them to ride him. I went two years there and never did finish. If I had gone the third year I could have taught school - same way with Gladys - we got them foolish ideas and quit and got married and a school of our own. In the meantime we started working around here, there and everywhere. Your dad (Levi) and I, we went in cahoots and bought that little place -- we thought we did. It's a good thing we didn’t buy it. We lost a little bit of money; four or five hundred a piece. We bought that old Birch place from Joe Sylvester. Your dad and I did. We turned it back. Took nearly all the profits. We was supposed to pay him so much a year for it as a down payment. Took all the money we had. I had a little bunch of cows and so did you dad, and I had to sell about half a dozen of them. Used to get fifty dollars a piece for them in them days.
I went up to Parowan before I was married and worked for Lee L. Clark for two or three years. Was herding sheep in the winter time and summer time taking care of his place. He had a bunch of registered cattle he went back to Iowa and got them. I bought two of them, he gave me a rake off on two of these registered cows and I had some good cattle out of them. Dewey came up and helped - I got him a job on the mountain with me. We went down around Enoch in the spring and I was with these cows. Dewey come up and drove these two cows down - they were red Durham’s. I worked there for quite a little while, bought a little bunch of cattle, bought a couple from your dad, and I bought two from old John Kinsley, that old fellow that used to live down there. He just had a couple he wanted to get rid of. I’d buy a cow or two just when I got the money. I got about thirty-five head somewhere along in there. Then they cut me off from the Forest Service for some reason or other so finally I got rid of the cow business. In the meantime, about the time we got married. Oh, we got married just about a month before Mother died. Mother died on Gladys’ birthday.
How did I meet Gladys? When we went into Dixie she was peeking through the fence and I went by in the wagon and raised the cover up. She was after me and I had to chase her away all the time (Ha, Ha). The road came right along in front of her house. Dad knew her dad and stopped to talk and she come and stuck her head through the fence. Had these 6 or 8 inch boards along it about four of them, and she was peeking through and I was in the wagon peeking through at her. I don’t know how old we was at that time.
We went to St. George and lived down there and I worked around St. George and I helped old Doc Gregor build a house for his second wife. Can’t think - one of them was Bertha, yea, Bertha and Alma. I helped him build that to help pay the doctor bill on Merrill when he was born. Then I went out on the strip (Arizona) that winter. Old Joe Atkin was out there, helped him build a pond and looked after his sheep for while. Then we come back in and Arthur and I went out to Grand Gulch Mine -- out south in Arizona. We was out there for about three months. I was well acquainted - they had a man what they called the mail carrier, old Bert Sorenson from St. George. He was a neighbor of mine and he was the one who got us the job. That was big money out there, they paid workers in the mines nearly three dollars a day, then they charged you $1.50 a day for board. So we worked out there and after we was out there one time Old Bert come to me - he was taking the mail out which he took out once a week. If there was any men that wanted to work he would take them out in the big white top buggy. He had a big saddle horse that would tag along with his team and if a man wanted to ride it they could. He come in one night and said, “Say do you want to go back home?” I said I didn’t know. “You better,” he says. “They’re going to close down here, that’s the word I got and nobody knows it but me. I’m a friend of yours and I’ll tell you.” I said, “Listen, why don’t you save about four seats in there and I’ll tell you later.” There was two young fellows from St. George and Arthur and I. I went and told them but, oh, no, they didn’t know anything about it. Arthur said he was going to stay and work. I said I wanted to stay too, but I didn’t want to walk out of there. Its about eighty five miles you know. Well, I told these other fellows and one of them, the youngest said he’d go cause he had heard the same rumors. I believed Old Bert, so we went with him and I rode the horse in. There was about five or six in the buggy and there was one girl from St. George that went with us. We each had a little roll of bedding and we camped out two nights, I guess. Anyway, after we got home about a week it closed up and Arthur and that fellow that married your Aunt Leah - Melvin Weaver. Well him and about six or eight others just got a little blanket and whatever cans of corn and peas and stuff they had there to live on; they packed it on their shoulders, it was darn hard walking that eighty-five miles. Yea, they wouldn’t believe me and they had to walk all the way back. I got home just shortly before they closed down - about a week. Gladys was living in St. George in what the called the old Woodbury place. She got this room - it was a pretty good sized house and she got two rooms and another little place in the back, kind of a wash room and Maude had the other one. Maude, her sister, the one that was buried here the other day had the rest of them. There was one room upstairs, it was a nice room. We lived in that for awhile. That was where Merrill was born. The doctor came over there to the place. I remember that afternoon they had an eclipse and Dr. McGregor, the old man, came over there. He and old Dr. Woodbury were together in those days. They came over there and this Mrs. Marridance, she was over there. She was an old English woman and a nurse. They had very few rooms in the hospital a that time, and it was filled up or something, anyway they came over there. He was born over in that Woodbury place. I think it’s torn down now, I haven’t seen it lately.
Well we lived there awhile, then we came back up to Pintura and lived there awhile. Then we went back to Toquerville and chased around Toquer in different places and I forgot to tell you we was there in Cedar for awhile. And I worked at different jobs around. Worked for Sevey for four or five years and worked for Spilsbury on his old farm down there for four or five years. Different jobs I had and finally got back around and worked for the Union Pacific at Iron Mountain. Oh, I worked out there most of the time. I was loading ore. I worked for you the first time out (Arlton you did all the work and I got all the credit). We worked together out there in the warehouse. Yes, I worked in there for quite awhile then I left that place and went over to the Mound after that.
But anyway, we raised all the kids up through the years, about eight of them, I guess. Still got about 95% of them. Shirley was born in Pintura. We set LaVell Sylvester with a team and a little black top buggy after the midwife. We couldn’t get a doctor from St. George and you couldn’t get into a hospital down there. Shirley, she started walking about nine months after she was born. She was a dancing around there. She was always a little girl, reminded me a lot of Shannon here. She was just like a little squirrel. She was here, there and everywhere and up every tree and over every fence. We all got the flu one time and Shirley was the only one that never got it. She would go and get me a drink of water and Gladys a drink of water. Merrill got it too, he was about two years older. But Shirley was the only one and she could get us a piece of bread or a little soup or milk or something. Everybody had the flu around there and she was just big enough to mind a little and we was to damn sick to care what she brought us anyway.
I don’t know, not where was Dick born. Oh, Dick was born two thirds of the way between Washington and St. George. Old Doc McGregor was coming up to Toquerville to do some tonsils or something, so we got in touch with him, we was in Pintura, and he said not to get in a hurry and he’d pick us up and take us down. In the meantime, we thought we could help matters out and we got in the can and went down to Anderson’s Ranch. All the kids in Toquerville was accumulated and he was taking the tonsils out. Mass production. We had two or three but we didn’t have them out that day. At Anderson’s Ranch we was a waiting. Gladys was getting awful nervous, twitching around in her chair, you know, wiggling around. Finally they came and picked us up. He had some lady with him. I think it must have been a nurse who was helping him. He took these kids tonsils out at Rhea Wakeling's home. Well, we started down there and every once in a while this nurse would say, we was riding in the back seat of the doctors car. One of those old soft top ones you used to roll it back and say, “How you gettin’ along dearie”. Gladys would say you better drive a little faster. Well, we came up out of Washington and she said you’d better hurry and the doctor would stomp on the accelerator. Anyway, we drove up and he just reached back and picked her up and carried he in the hospital. About fifteen minutes after we got to the hospital I could hear Dick bawling. I was sitting out in the front and they finally let me in. Mary and some other girl that came in they was telling me stories about the new father, you know, but we had a couple of them and I was about half broke in.
Now let's see, who was the next one. I guess you came along about next (Kent). You was born April Fool’s Day down there in Herb Naegle’s north bedroom. That was Kent. I was working over on that road between Anderson’s and Toquerville. Of course, I was kind of expecting this. During the noon hour we had a little time and we was pitching horseshoes, and Frank Anderson came out and said I was wanted on the telephone. It was April Fool’s Day and all these fellows was a ha, hawing. I went in, and I knew what it was, they wanted me to come home, and I got Lyle Bringhurst to take me home. We went down the new road to Toquerville. The old road used to go down around through that black hill hollow, you know, but he took me on the new road, but it wasn’t finished, but you could get through. That was the first day of April, what year was it? I guess about 1925. That’s when the road was built along through there.
And Joy was born, wait a minute let’s figure out where Joy was born. I don’t remember where Joy was born. She might have been adopted. Joy was born in Pintura and I don’t remember whether she had Dr. Akin or if she had a midwife. Then we moved over to Toquer and Rod was born in that place where Ed Slack lives now. She had Dr. Akin and he left his little black bag, so he sent me back over to Hurricane for it, and when I went in the office the girl said he took it with him, but I said he sent me back after it; so she looked around and he had set it down on a chair or someplace and run off and forgot it. He brought his wife with him, and instead of sending her back he sent me.
Well, then in the meantime we moved down to that place where we live now. That’s where Gladys got so sick. She was sick when Dick was born too. After he was about six months old Louie took him. They don’t know what was wrong, but after she came out of it she had a big thing break out on her arm and it run and was a mess for a long while. Louie took Dick and kept him for awhile after weening him. I remember getting one of those little cups with a handle on both sides and had to teach him to drink out of it. Well then, LeGrnade was born in that little place and so was Jeanen. When Gladys got sick this time it was with her heart. She was sick a long time and spent two or three years in bed. Dr. McIntyre was her doctor from Hurricane, nearly starved to death cause no one ever paid their bills. So he went to Kanab, and this other fellow came in and he did starve to death, and got heart trouble to boot. That’s what killed him was heart trouble.
Well, I could tell you we worked here and worked there and all over any place we could get a job. One summer I worked out on Kaibab and took the family out there. Do you remember that Kent? We went out there and about all the kids could do out there was watch an old doe and a couple of fauns come down and eat in front of the tent at night. Joy was a baby, I believe. I spent the summer, then I stayed there until quite late in the fall after I sent the family in. We lived out there in tents that winter. There was a whole flock of us, a lot from Toquer doing construction work building a road down through the canyon. I worked up on Cedar Mountain two or three time, working on that contract there. I happened to be home when Dad died. I was the only one at home. Arthur was working over on the State Road over to Leeds. That time he was driving team over there and I had quite a time. I had to go over and find him. The car we had wouldn’t run. I got one from a fellow who lived in Washington, he was working on the road or something and I had to get him to take me up to get Arthur. Dad had stayed with me the night before in Pintura and was going up to get a headstone for Mother’s grave.
Well, I worked at different places and had different jobs and then we came the last twenty or thirty years, we had that place in Toquerville. Lived in there and built this new house about 1944, when we started; 1946 before we completed it. The kids were all born in the old house, wasn’t any of them born in the new house. Then of course, Gladys died. Its been eight years this year in July - eight years on the 9th of July since she died. Jeannie was born on the fourth and her Grandmother died on the ninth. Jeanen came down and had not of come, but she did. She had quite a lot of trouble see in. They got her home and the doctor got to working on her. Helped her out a little, I guess. Hope it did anyway.
Finally they all got married and scattered around. Some of them came up here and some went in the army and some of them went in different places. We built the house they all come back from the army, all but Rod. He didn’t go in until later on, you see. LeGrande, they turned him down on account of his arm. He had his arm hurt, of course you know. I was working for Spilsbury at the time he got his arm hurt. He and Paul Naegle and a bunch of kids was playing out along in the barn. He come down on the barn to see who could jump the highest or fall off or keel over one thing or another. He saw this thing a laying along there, this fork or carriage was laying in the top of the barn. Paul got a hold of it and come down hand over hand to the end of the barn. So LeGrande was next, so he came along and done the same thing. This fork or carriage had been laying there in the track all winter long. LeGrande got on it and it broke loose and started running along the track. Well, he just had to hang on to it. At the end of the track he came down on an old ragged looking fence that was broke in a dozen pieces or a hundred pieces. He came down and he had his arm straight up in the air on the cable and he run the board up in his arm about eight inches. Under the under part of his arm. It run up in just like that. Well, Forest Kleinman and LeRoy Stapley were close, it was at LeRoy's house. Bishop Forest picked him up and took him to Hurricane.
Well, I was off punching cows for Spillsbury and never got in till quite late that night. When I got home they was waiting for me. Francis Slack was, and he took me over and I stayed over there with him. Oh, they stayed over there that night then the next night they brought him up to Cedar. And then I stayed there to your place (Levi) Gladys did. I came up with then, then had to go back to the job and would run up every chance I got. He suffered a lot and finally we had to bring him up here (Salt Lake City). We brought him up to the St. Marks Hospital and he was up here, I think, about six weeks. And he was also in the Cedar Hospital for quite awhile. Old Graff was there. I tried to get Graff to dig some of the slivers out, but he said no, that it was just hurt by the cable, and I couldn’t get him to understand. That was D Day when they operated on him. I was reading about it here awhile ago. I stood there and wanted them to take a picture of it but they wouldn’t. I told them they was slivers in it, but afterwards they got twenty eight slivers out of it. Out of his arm you know. Old Graff was supposed to take it out, but he didn’t. He always had a bad hand after that, but he got by.
When Aunt Louie got married, she went up to Salt Lake alone with Will Duffin and got married and Bill went on his mission. She was there three or four days, I don’t remember, they come up alone. I can remember when Levi and Katie got married. They went to St. George in a black top buggy and got married. We were living in the same place where we live now, only a different house. We kids were there going to school. Arthur, Bill and I and possibly Dewey. We were just over there batching it. We lived in Pintura or Father and Mother did and they would come over and get us Friday afternoon and take us back home. And Levi, while he was courting Katie, he would bring her up there and she’d cleanup the house and mix us up a batch of bread about once a week and we’d bake it. Of course, Mother would bring some over, I can remember that. When your folks came back from getting married, there was a bunch accumulated like they usually do. They were a razzing Levi and Katie about getting married and this, that and the other. Then they started razzing your Granddad (Sam Dodge) that this ought to be worth a gallon or five gallons. I think your dad brought out a gallon or two.
And George was married in St. George. When he married Traca, we went down there. That’s another little story. When we went down to George’s wedding, there was Old Bill Gates, a fellow that used to live in Pintura. He wanted me to go out to Bull Valley with him and work out there. So I went out and after I got started Uncle Andrew Gregerson came along and said why don’t you go to work for me, and I knew him, so I went to work with him and Andy Gregerson and Amond Lake and a fellow we called Coffee John. I don’t know what his name was. He used to get up in the morning and roll up his Bull Drham and put on the coffee. He had a real big coffee pot and he never threw the coffee ground out until it got filled up. It was cold out there and we made a deal with him cause he had to get up anyway to smoke his Bull Durham and drink his coffee. We told him if he would make the fires, we would chop the wood and cook the supper and dinner, you know. He took us up on that. Well, we worked all that winter in the mines. I come back to St. George on the tenth of April and we was running a little race to see who could grow the most whiskers. I had about two inches of whiskers when I came in. I thought it would be dark when I got into town and shave them off. But it was just about sundown and here come Gladys, Lyle Gregerson and that Pickett girl, Ann Hall. They hid my razor and wouldn’t let me have it. Well, the next morning, I hadn’t ought to tell this, but anyway coming down through the canyon there was a bunch of deer jumped up and I knocked one of them down. Well, we put it in the wagon and brought it down, and when I left I was going to split it down the middle and leave Uncle Andrew half of it. Rone Kleinman was driving the mail from there to Toquer and felt about five in the morning. I went down to see him and told him I wanted to come up with him. He asked where would I be. It was April and I said I’d be sleeping out on the lawn and he could come and just yell at me. You had to take your own bedding in those days, you know. So, I hung this darn deer up on the side of Uncle Andrew’s fence or house, and when Old Rone Kleinman came along, I jumped up and pulled my pants on and rolled my bedding up in a tarp and got in the car and away we went. When we got to Pintura or somewhere up along the line I happened to think abut this dang deer that was still hanging out. Uncle Andrew was a big fellow, he’d weigh about three hundred pounds and he liked to sleep until nine or ten o’clock in the morning. Finally he got up, he had an old neighbor who was quite nosey and he got up about daylight. He came over there and when Uncle Andrew woke up there was that darn deer hanging out in broad daylight. This old neighbor was out feeding his cows and he said, “Hey, where did you get that deer?” Uncle Andrew said, “By darn, I didn’t get it. Somebody must have given it to me.”
Ivan died when he was about six weeks old with whooping cough. At that time John T. Batty was going up to head of the ridge to meet President Ivans. Some one from Cedar brought him down that far. Then they would meet him and take him on to St. George for conference. They came in and we had them bless this baby, and that’s how we came to name his Ivan. This whooping cough came around and everybody got it, they couldn’t keep it away. They chased us out of the house and all, but you know anything like that comes along.
Mel was born in Pintura, so was Carl. No, seems to me that Carl was born down there just south of Arthur’s house. That old William’s house. I think that where Carl was born down there just south of Arthur’s place. That old William place.
While we were in Pintura, Old Man George Spilsbury came over and he organized a Sunday School. Mother was something in it, and me and Mary Stewart were secretaries for the Sunday School. I couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. We held it in that old school house for a while, then down to our place, then up to Gregerson’s. I’ve been a home teacher for I don’t know how long. Don’t have any dates on it. Along about the time LeGrande Spilsbury was put in as Bishop, I was put in the Sunday School. The first time as assistant to Clarence Theobald, that was 1952. That was the year I was working up on the railroad.
A few personal notes added by Shirley:
Toward the end of World War I, Andy received his draft notice to report to Fort Douglas. He had a slight cold, but could not go without saying goodbye to Gladys, who was visiting her sister in Toquerville (before marriage). He rode his horse from Pintura to Toquerville and then spent so long out in the cold air by the front gate saying goodbye that he got pneumonia and he nearly died. He was very sick for several months and as a result of this, he never did go in the service.
To illustrate how impulsive Andrew was, we must tell the following story on him. He had been courting Gladys for quite some time, then Gladys went to Salt Lake to stay with her sister, Maude, and work. Andrew collected sufficient money to buy an engagement ring, so he put it in an envelope and mailed it to her in Salt Lake. Not in a package, but a regular envelope. Not even insurance on postage at that time. In the meantime, Gladys left Salt Lake and returned to her home in Pintura. But the letter was forwarded and Gladys received her engagement ring in an envelope through the mail, and Andrew was living over the fence from her.
After becoming engaged, Gladys went to St. George to work with her Aunt so that she could get sufficient money to have a nice trousseau. She and Andrew were waiting for a temple marriage, but Andrew’s mother was in the hospital in St. George very ill and feeling that she did not have long to live. She asked them to set the date up and get married while she was still alive. Gladys’ sister, Maude had a nice wedding shower for Andrew and Gladys, and both the fellows and girls were invited. There was a very large group and they had a very nice time, but Andrew never did show up. It got so late and finally Milton Moody jumped up and said that he would be the best man and so he assisted Gladys in opening gifts and thanking everyone and bidding them good night. Gladys was so angry that she considered calling the wedding off. Much later and near morning, Andrew came walking in. He had started to drive from Pintura over in an old car. It broke down, so he walked the rest of the way. He came close to losing a bride over that deal.
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Copyright ©2000 by Brenton Bauer
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