I have wondered where to start, and often wished someone else was writing about me. It may not belong in an auto-biography, but I think I will tell something of the life of my mother. Already entered in the computer is much from the journal of my Grandfather Hovey, and all I have about my grandmother Hovey. I have made copies of the journals of my mother, which she kept from just before she met the missionaries and joined the church until she arrived in "Zion" where she wanted to be. So each one of our children have a copy of her journal, and I will not enter it in the computer. But I would like to include a little about the rest of her life. It is hardly long enough to make a separate file. I also made copies of my father's missionary journal for our children, and it is not entered in the computer. There is something about him in the notes found with his family.

Annie Stokes Hovey

Annie Stokes Hovey was born 26 July 1877, in Collyweston, Northamptonshire, England, the daughter of John Thomas Stokes and Eliza Sophia Stokes, who were cousins with the same surname. The parents of John Thomas were Thomas Stokes and Mary Jane Chamberlain. The parents of Eliza Sophia Stokes were William Stokes and Ann Taylor. The parents of Thomas and William were Charles Stokes and Elizabeth Tasker.

Annie was the eldest in the family, as was her father in his family. Her sister Maud was born two years later, her sister Sophia (Sophie) 1886, brother William 1891. Another brother, Cecil, was born in 1893, and died 1895 of eczema. 

Annie's mother came from very well to do people. Her mother and her mother's two brothers were very talented musically and went around the country giving concerts. Her two great uncles on her mother's side raised fine horses for the Queen's carriages. (It is interesting that my husband's great grandfather Peter Betts invented a spring which made the Queen's carriages much more comfortable to ride in, and he was Knighted for it.)

Annie’s father had a “green thumb” and loved gardening. He raised and sold plants to neighbors. This was his hobby. His work was in insurance, as he collected insurance premiums from the miners who worked the mines nearby. He did not make a great deal of money, and probably would have liked to spend all his time growing things. Annie's mother had her own money which lasted most of her life, so the family was well provided for, a good average middle class family.

Annie had what would now be called Polio in her youth, which left her feet and legs crippled. The doctors of the day wanted to break the bones in her feet and reset them to enable her to walk more comfortably, but this she would not let them do.

Most children of those days went to school until they were fifteen years old, and then were apprenticed to some Master of a trade. Annie was apprenticed to a Dressmaker for five years, her sister Maud in the shop keeping trade, and Sophia got an automatic knitting machine. I think she worked in a shop also. They worked a five and a half day week. On the half day off they did the heavy work around the home, including the washing, which was far from easy then. The white clothes were boiled as well as washed. Being raised in a middle class home did not mean they did not learn to work.

Nevertheless they often found time to visits friends, take tea with them, and give entertainments in their homes in the evenings. In those days they provided the entertainment. Songs, skits and such things were the order of the entertainments. They seemed to do much cooking, always having pies or tarts or other goodies to pass around every time anyone came to call. Bread or meat was taken to the bake houses to be cooked, and called for when done.

Cleaning and blacking the stove was one of the jobs to be done often, and even oftener the taking out of the ashes. Spring cleaning came oftener than spring, when they whitewashed all the walls and ceilings, needed because of the smoke from the open fires.

So Annie and her sisters grew up and learned to work, and learned a trade, and obeyed their parents. They attended the Church of England regularly. The one in the family who became somewhat "spoiled" was the one brother, William.

Annie finished her dressmaking apprenticeship and set up as dressmaker in a nearby town for a while. Later she returned home and did dressmaking from her parent’s home. I am not sure why she went back home, but would guess that it was to help her mother. Her sisters and brother were still at home at the time. Her sisters and mother helped her with the dressmaking when she was rushed, so they helped each other as families should.

One day Annie was alone downstairs, probably working or sewing, when there was a knock at the door.  She started to go to the door to answer the knock, but some power seemed to make it impossible for her to move. My mother could be a very determined lady indeed, and she said to herself, "I will go and answer the door," and with renewed effort she managed to break free and go to the door. There she found two young men, who had called to see the lady of the house as they had been told she had a room to rent.

My mother went upstairs to tell her mother the gentlemen wanted to see her. Her aunt was there, and she said to her aunt, "I have the strangest feeling that the coming of those men will change my whole life."

The young men rented the room, and as all good missionaries do, proceeded, every chance they had, to tell members of the family about the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Book of Mormon and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

My grandmother was very good to the young men, who did not seem to have very much to eat, so she often sent them things to add to what they were having. They often had only bread and onions for supper. (I wonder if that is why I like so much to have bread and thin slices of raw onion for my supper?)

My grandparents listened to the young men and were good to them, but were not interested in their message. But my mother and her sister Maud were interested in what they had to say. They read the Book of Mormon and my mother received that "Burning in the bosom" which told her beyond any doubt that it was true. Maud too decided it was true.

Then my grandparents were very upset that they had converted their daughters, and told the missionaries to leave the house. They wanted their daughters to have nothing more to do with them. But for once they did not obey their parents, and it was a very hard thing to do, for until that time they had always obeyed their parents. They were of age to act for themselves so they were baptized. Things were not as comfortable around home after that, and while the missionaries did come back to visit the girls, their parents did not want them there.

But while there were the two of them to go together to meetings and conferences, and read the scriptures and have prayers together it was not bad. Then after being faithful for some time, I do not know just how long, my aunt began to go out with a young man who had been ordained minister for another church. At first he would go to her church with her if she would in turn go to his church. So it is not hard to guess that before long she left the church.

Then my mother felt lonely indeed, with her parents wanting her to do as her sister had done, leave the church. Her father was quite antagonistic against the missionaries so they could hardly come to strengthen her. She had one good friend who told her she could come and live at her house if her parents put her out. This friend was very good to her and to the missionaries, although she did not join the church while my mother knew her.

So it is no wonder that Annie longed to go to "Zion" where she would be with other members of the church. She was the only member in the village where they lived, and it was a long walk to church, which she did faithfully, even if lame.

So Annie sewed and saved to earn enough money to go to Zion.

It took quite a while but finally she had enough. The conference president told her he thought she should go to Canada, as there were more opportunities for young people there.

After Annie joined the church she would not date young men who were not members of the church. So as there were none such in her vicinity, she did not go out with any young men.

By 1902 she was ready to leave England. The church looked for some one else going to Canada, so she would know someone for the trip. They found a girl; although she did not have much in common with her other than that she too was going to Canada. It was a sad goodbye to her family. Her mother went to the ship with her and they had their picture taken together.  Not a bit of a smile between them. As my mother put it, she left "dear old England," leaving every member of her family there. She did not see England again in this life.

On the ship she found the girl she was traveling with had head lice, and it was necessary to wash her waist long hair every day to keep the pests away. The girl was going to Stirling, Alberta, Canada, so she had decided to go there also.

When she arrived in Stirling, she wrote in her journal, as the closing remark "My dream was realized, I was with the people of God."

We have the gospel of Jesus Christ today because our parents and grandparents had the courage to give their all that we might have it. What a debt we owe to them.

But life was not easy for her after realizing her dreams. She did dressmaking to make a living, and not a easy living either. One day Grafton G. Hovey sat in a meeting in Stirling and noticed a young lady sitting on a bench ahead of him. After looking at her he said, there is the woman I want for my wife. Talk about sudden romance. He was 35 years old and old enough to know his own mind. And my mother was willing, because he could take her to the temple to be married. She knew she did not want to throw away all she had suffered for by marrying out of the church.

So she had done everything the way she believed it should be done by a member of the true church.  But her sorrows were not over. They wanted a family, but did not have a baby for five years. Then because of a difficult birth the baby was stillborn.  The baby would have been a son, just what my father wanted.   But it was not to be.  The next child was myself, and I was strong and healthy, and had too much of the wild blood of Ephriam to be an easy  child to raise, especially for parents past their youth.

Later Annie had twin girls, and lost one stillborn because the doctor was "under the influence" and smothered the unborn twin. The other little girl lived to six weeks and contracted whooping cough. Babies that age are supposed to be immune to communicable diseases, but she caught it from me and died from it. One child left out of the four. A child who felt that I’m some way she was responsible for the baby's death. And so acted as mean as could be because she did not know what else to do. Poor parents.

As the Lord says He tries those he loves, I can only assume he loved my mother and father very much.

Life on a farm in Canada was very different from life in England as Annie had lived it. But she did her best, and worked as hard as she was able to.  When I was seven they bought a home in the town of Raymond, and my mother lived there most of the time. My father went back and forth to farm, and during the busy times stayed at the farm, and came to town a couple of times a week. All so I could go to school, I think.  We all stayed on the farm in the school

Annie always told people about the gospel. From the time she was converted, she went around her village in England to the homes of the people and told them about it, but neither her efforts nor those of the missionaries succeeded in bringing any others into the gospel while she was there.

Considering her lameness, my mother accomplished a surprising amount of work. Always busy. And nearly always suffering with pain in her legs and feet. She did all the genealogical work she could, and attended the temple as often as possible.

I did not know how she likely felt when I went to Lethbridge to school and left her alone in the house when my father was away. We all have to experience these things for ourselves.

And I grew up, and got married, and a few years later my father had a growth which was found to be cancer. As it grew into his head, he had to go to Oliver, Alberta for the last months of his life. My mother lived 25 years as a widow after he died, and carried his picture in her purse for all of that time.  They were married for all eternity.

Mother sold her home in Raymond when we moved to the farm to look after it, and lived in the small house we had in Raymond. When we moved to Rosemary she came with us and lived with us off and on until her death. It was rather lonely for her on our farm in Rosemary, so from time to time she visited friends in Raymond, and for a while lived with a niece of my father who was alone too.

She could often be found reading the scriptures in her room. I seem to remember that she often read the Doctrine and Covenants and I have a picture in my mind of her sitting in her rocking chair reading it. And if she was not reading she was sewing.  She did much sewing for other people all her life, and especially for me and my family. I think she likely did some sewing the year she died. From the time she was converted to the gospel until her death she had a strong testimony, and it never wavered.

One of her happiest times was when the first grandson went on a mission. Always she wanted to "make repayment" for the sacrifice of the missionaries who brought the gospel to her. As she did not have a son to go on a mission a grandson was the next best.  Many of the missionaries she knew in England had left wives and children to go on a mission, so it was indeed a sacrifice for them and their families. Her cup of joy was full when two more grandsons went on missions. I know her eye is on all her descendants hoping many of them will go on missions also. And especially that they will find the joy she found in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

She died at age 88 in the hospital in Brooks, Alberta.

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Autobiography of Doris Hovey Betts

 Born 7 July 1912, Stirling, Alberta, Canada.

I think because my mother had such a difficult time when she had her first child, when the second was expected  Grandmother Stokes came to Canada to be with her. Everything went well, except that my father was then and ever after very disappointed that I was not a boy. He did not dislike having a daughter, but wanted a son also. But in this life he did not have his desire.

I grew up on the farm until I was seven. I can remember playing outside, and often running into the house to ask my mother "what can I do?" With an only child that seems to be an eternal question.

I did have a few playmates, only in the summers. A couple who had a farm half a mile away had adopted a Hawaiian girl while on their mission. I remember playing with a young duck we had captured and put in a tub of water. And on the west side of them there was a family named Anderson with a little boy. We also played or fought with him, as the occasion demanded. The little girl died the year we moved to town so I could go to school. She did not have the resistance the Canadian children had to colds and related troubles. The boy Dennis lived with us for a year as his mother died.

We went to church in Stirling, and the visits my parents made there were hard for me to bear. Father's relatives lived there, and he and mother enjoyed visiting with them. The children did not know me, and I was like a strange chicken flung in a coop full of chickens.  They spoke to each other in sign languages so I would not know what they were talking about, and made fun of me in every way they could, laughing at everything I said. In other words I was no friend of theirs and they wished I was not there to spoil their time with their friends. I wonder if parents ever realize what they are doing when they tell their child "run out and play with the nice children." That just isn't the way it should be done. Children do resent being told to play with the visitor which spoils all their fun.  We would all have been much happier if they had let me sit quietly on a chair by myself until they were ready to leave.

This probably influenced my life to some extent and it seemed easier to be by myself than make efforts to be friendly. The same girls, later then they wanted to come to Raymond for a dance or entertainment and wanted some place to stay and eat, were very friendly with me, or tried to be. I think I managed to be nice to them, which seemed to be quite an achievement to me at the time.

After the death of my twin sisters, my father thought it might help my mother to take her on a trip to visit his folks. He never felt he had the money to send her home to England to visit, and likely would not have sent her so far away anyway. It was a long slow trip in those days. So the three of us got on a train and went to Salt Lake. We had to go in the winter during the time there was not much needed doing on the farm. Father's brother James lived there, and we had a nice visit. I remember that year there was much snow on the streets.  My uncle had only one daughter left at home, named Rozina. She was surely very nice to me and I had a great time. My first visit to the United States. I was about five years old.

I remember that my father had given my mother some gold pieces for the trip, each worth $20.00, which was quite a bit of money then. I thought those gold pieces were just what I wanted, and coaxed my mother to let me hold them. She was a softie and let me take them. When my father saw that I had them he took them away from me and kept them himself. My mother was too proud to ask for money after that, and did not spend a cent on the trip. My father could not stand having money carelessly handled; he had found it too hard to come by. So I am not sure how much good the trip did for my mother, but she did enjoy visiting.

We also met two of my father's sisters. They seemed very tall and stern to me at age near five. Later they came to visit us and tried their best to reform me, so I was still of the same opinion. I was terrified of thunder storms as a child, and never have liked them as an adult. We had a bad storm while the aunts were visiting. I knew I was very wicked and they were always so good, so I crept up to one of the chairs an aunt was sitting on, and put my feet on a spindle of the chair. That, I was sure, would protect me because I was right by her and she was so good she was sure to be protected. And she was.

By the time I had children of my own I just had to overcome my fear of thunder and lightening, at least enough so that I could raise my children without them being frightened to storms. I think I succeeded. Maybe it could be because they thought I was so silly to be frightened of them. I fear kids can always tell if you are frightened.

When I was a baby the way to go anywhere was by buggy and horse. My mother learned to drive the horse, but was, I am sure, very nervous about doing it. Once when I was a small baby we, my mother and grandmother and I, were driving to Stirling when one of the lines either broke or came off the bridle. This frightened the horse so that it ran in various sized circles.  My mother's concern was all for me, and she managed to toss me lightly out onto a bank by the side of the road. Finally the horse quieted down, and no one was hurt.

I can't remember how old I was when my mother's brother William came to stay with us. He was a young man and wanted to do something different as young men do. He worked for my father on the farm, and tried his patience no end. A green Englishman, and one who did not learn fast enough to suit my father, but he put up with him as he was mother's brother.

William liked to encourage me to do things my parents did not want me to do. I could always run to him and hide after doing something I should not have done. That is not good for a child. Uncle Willie had a bit of an ornery disposition.

I can still see him riding off in the evenings. He never did learn to ride a horse with any elegance. Both arms would flop up and down with each move of the horse, and it was quite a sight. On those evenings he stayed at home he embroidered. A man embroidering? Many of the men in England would knit or embroider or something like that. He made some very nice things. I remember a table cover he made in cross stitch and gave to my mother. He was always her little brother Willie to her.

When the world war came along he was very frightened that he would be drafted back to England and have to fight. He did not want to go in the army. He got the war news as often as possible and seemed so worried about it that I was frightened of that war. I did not really know what it was, but to me it was very frightening.

My aunt told us that he came back to England with enough money to start up in business. We could never figure out how he got it, as he certainly did not save that much out of farm wages. Perhaps on those evenings he went out he gambled in some form.  Just a guess.

Then when I was still a small child my father decided to get a Ford car. I am sure he thought long and carefully before doing such a daring thing. He learned to drive, but it was much longer before he learned that saying "Whoa" did not stop a car. The special occasions were going to Lethbridge in that car. It was about 20 miles, but no trip taken today can seem as long. We had to go up temple hill, and the car did not like hills. So Mother and I got out and tried to push while father drove up the hill.

One time on such a trip in Lethbridge father did not notice a train coming and drove over the track. My mother screamed and it seemed to me that the train passed within an inch of our back wheels. But a miss is as good as a mile, but safer to have the mile.

One of the things I can still remember is when we went to the dedication of the Cardston Temple. I think my age was somewhere around eight years, no older anyway. We could pick up bits of material left from building the temple. I remember little square tiles that I found. And as I was standing right up front at the time of the dedication, when President Grant came out after the dedication was over, and he shook hands with a very few people, I was fortunate to be one of them. How my mother wanted to shake his hand, but he had time to shake no more after mine. My parents bought a heavy piece of glass with a picture of the temple in the back, and it looked three-dimensional from the front. Never heard of three-dimensional then, of course. I wonder what happened to that?  Can't remember.

So we moved to Raymond and I started school at age seven. I did not have any trouble with the school work, but getting along with the other students was not always easy. But I had plenty of friends, and got into trouble along with them without any effort. Maybe I led them into trouble, at least we usually found it.  When there are two parents, and only one child, they do seem to have a lot of time to correct you! This is likely as difficult as not having enough attention.

My parents took me to all the church meetings, and there were three on Sunday then. Sunday School in the morning, sacrament meeting in the afternoon, and a meeting called Mutual meeting in the evening. This was a meeting like the afternoon one, except that it was where returned missionaries spoke, and visiting speakers, etc. As you may guess, that was a lot of meetings for a child. On a hot summer day it seemed the hardest thing in the world to go to the afternoon meeting. I never objected to going to Sunday School or the evening meeting. But object I did to the afternoon meeting. To no effect. If necessary my father took me in hand, literally, and marched me to church.

You might think that would cause me to stop going to church when I was old enough. Not so. I always knew that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints was the true church of our Heavenly Father. I knew Jesus Christ had died for us, and the least we could do was try to do as he wanted us to do. And I still feel the same way, and pray I will endure to the end and be as staunch as my forefathers. I don't want them to be ashamed of me when we meet over there.

 I was a conscientious student, and could not bear to get a low mark for anything. Usually I was about third place in the marks, always there were two people who got a mark or two better than I did.

Soon after we moved to Raymond my parents purchased a new piano so that I could become a good musician. My mother always wanted to play and sing. But the good singing voice others in her family enjoyed did not come to her, but she did the best she could with what she had. I was either fortunate or unfortunate to have Lorenzo Snow Mitchell for my piano teacher. He later went to Salt Lake City and became a great musician there. But he was far too kind and gentle for a music teacher. He was there to teach you.  You could learn if you liked, but if you didn't you could get away with that.

Children usually like to play better than practice the piano, and I was no different. I also liked to work in the garden better than practice. But I did get through some grades and play not too badly, but had one problem I have never overcome. I could not play in public, no matter how much I wanted to. So I have only played for my own satisfaction. Every time I tried to play in public everything that made my playing worth listening to deserted me.

One of the usual chores before going to school on washday was turning the washer with a stick in a socket that ran the washer. No electricity or gas motors. How tired a kid could get of swinging that washer stick back and forth. And if I got into too much trouble that washer stick made a good punishment rod. Once I was late because I had to swing the stick too long. How unfair that was, for I had never been late before and thought it a terrible thing to happen to me.

When I was a child I remember keeping my small bit of spending money in a little tin cough drop box. That money was saved for a long time until we went to the Fair. If I had 35 cents to spend there, I was probably the richest child there. Those were the days when a nickle bought a nickle's worth. And a Fair was the place to spend money, and faster than a wink.

I could howl very loudly when I put my mind to it. One time my father decided I really must be punished. I am sure I did not get a fraction of the punishment I earned, as he hardly ever chastized me. But this time he gave me a switching with a willow stick, and I howled loud enough to bring the neighbors, who lived half a mile away, out where they could see what terrible thing had happened to me. My father did not deserve that embarrassment. I can't remember that he punished me after that.

I always liked to raise plants, and helped my mother in the garden. She must have had her father's green thumb too. I remember she usually had nice ripe tomatoes by July 1. I liked to raise flowers and in the growing season I was usually busy in my spare time around the yard. You would not think that would cause trouble for me, but it did. The neighbors seeing me digging and spading and working would say to their children "Why don't you do something in the yard like Doris, you never help make it look better around here and etc." and that did not make me popular. There seems to be nothing that turns a person against you faster than for someone to say they should be like you.

When we were living in Raymond the job I hated the most was mopping the kitchen floor, which I had to do every Saturday afternoon. Why, mopping that floor actually made me sick, but it was surprising how fact I felt better after I had finished doing it.

As my father was out at the farm most of the time we lived in town, I automatically became the man of the house. My mother was not strong, so I tried to do the hard work, and the chores. I painted the ceilings and walls and woodwork in the house, and finally decided the outside needed painting too. At this time I was probably about fourteen or fifteen. So I painted all the outside of the house, which anyone could do, but for me it was especially hard as I hated high places. I had to force myself to paint around the top of the house.

But my green thumb persisted through the years, and I went from failure to failure, without a great deal of encouragement from the results. I just liked doing it.

I do not know, not having tried it with brothers and sisters, but perhaps being the only child makes one more serious, and more apt to take the weight of the world on your shoulders. A neighbor man liked to ask me questions to hear my answers, which were more like an adult speaking. I spoke with adults all the time at home, so why not.

In spite of being strong physically, I got bad colds every winter. One winter I had one so bad my parents were sure they were going to lose me. I suppose it was pneumonia. How my poor mother managed all that nursing and worry I will never know, because she was not physically strong. She jumped at every sound I made, thinking I must be dying. I did not get well for a long time, and looked like a ghost when I first tried to walk.

I must not forget to write about my first date. Don't think the kids now days would win a prize for early dating. I think it might have been in grade three or four, and the boy sitting across the aisle asked me for a date. What excitement. Nobody else in the class was dating, but I suppose someone had to start it. He took me to an entertainment in the Opera House, and we shyly held hands as we walked across the alley from the school. This Opera House was built about the year my father came to Canada. We saw some great things there. The Chataquawa (I no longer know the correct spelling, but that is about as it sounds.) was the best entertainment. What fun that was. There is nothing like it now. It was a professional entertainment and came to the Opera House about every year when I was young. That was something no one wanted to miss. That and the country Fair.

One summer, after we had gone to Raymond for Church, we could see a storm coming, but wanted to get back to the farm before the storm broke. So we started out but did not make it. The storm brought thunder and lightening and hailstones as large as golf balls. The sides of the car consisted of "curtains" made of fairly heavy material. They were not heavy enough for the hail though. My mother shrieked out that she had been hit, and she thought she had been hit by the lightening, but it was by the hail. Made a very nasty bruise. We turned around and went back to the house in Raymond and found the windows had been broken out on the storm side of the house. That took care of the crops for that year for many farmers, but I can't remember if the farm was in the area that caught storm. It seems like it missed the worst of it.

Blizzards were common in those days in southern Alberta too.

When we lived in Raymond during the school year, we needed milk, so we kept a cow or two in town for that purpose. That was a common thing then. We had a small pasture and a barn and small chicken house on the home lot. So I learned to milk cows fairly early and had that job. Also feeding them. So wear old clothes to milk night and morning, and change clothes for school. And change after milking in the evening. Early on I got tired of changing clothes. One Sunday I missed changing my shoes and wore the old milk splattered ones to evening meeting. Of course I noticed it immediately I got in the building. That was a very uncomfortable meeting, worse than wearing odd shoes.

As my father did not have the son he wanted, and he needed the help of one on the farm, I did some of the things a brother would have done. I can remember staying out of school to help in the harvest, mainly stooking grain. When night came I thought I had never been so tired, or ever would be again. Those bundles of grain were ALL very heavy. I suppose it is no wonder I was at least half tomboy.

As my mother was a dressmaker I started to sew at an early age. She was always willing to teach me what she knew, but never did I come even close to sewing as well as she did. Had I put in as many hours sewing I might have reached the same perfection. I was not afraid to tackle anything anyway. At about age 14 I made my own winter coat, and my friends would not believe that I had made it.

In my early teens I wanted to embroider everything, bed spreads, dresser runners, table covers, any kind of fancy work. I knit and crocheted and tatted, and hooked rugs. I also painted on cloth and all such things. I think I did so much of that kind of work I did not want to do much of it after I was older.

One winter my father made arrangements to have the stock on the farm looked after by a neighbor, and prepared to serve a six month's mission for the church. He left two cows in town for me to milk, with sufficient feed. One of the cows liked to kick and I was frightened of her. I kept trying to milk her, but was not old enough to have enough authority to make her behave. She ended up going dry.  My father went to ST. Paul, Minn. on his mission, and enjoyed it. He had served a full time mission in California before moving to Canada.

When I was fourteen years of age, my parents took a seven year old girl to live with us. The difference in age made it impossible for us to be close friends at that time although I do not remember any particular difficulties between us. She was the daughter of Howard's cousin, and her mother had died. Her father did not keep the children together as he could not look after them. When she was sixteen she left to live with friends. We kept in touch with her and visited her after she was married. Her name was Georgina Crawford, and she married Paul Woolersheim and they lived in Blackie, Alberta. Georgina died of cancer when her youngest children were in their teens, and her husband died not too long afterwards.

In those days we did not have disposable sacrament cups. The Bee Hive girls, so called, were called to wash the sacrament cups each Sunday. We all had plenty of turns. Each cup had to be well washed and dried. And it was a good sized ward. That kept us out of mischief for a while.

My parents, being staunch members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints taught me well in the scriptures and doctrines of the church. Many hours my mother read to me from the Book of Mormon, until I read it for myself.  I went through all the classes for girls, and the full young women's program. As soon as I was 17 I was called to teach a small group of girls barely two years younger than myself. A year or so later I was called to be Stake Sunday School Secretary.

After public school I attended the Raymond School of Agriculture for two years. This school had high school subjects and also subjects relating to farms for the boys and housekeeping and sewing for the girls. We also studied Horticulture. In the second year after, supposedly, learning to cook, we cooked and served a banquet to the staff. That was a very nerve wracking experience.

Another was when I and another girl were assigned to clean the coal cook stove. We had sets of instructions, which said WASH ALL REMOVEABLE PARTS OF THE STOVE.  As you may guess, all the lids were removable, as well as the sections between them, They were also covered with a  quarter inch of soot. Well, we followed the instructions to the letter. We had to wash them in strong washing soda. Our hands were imbedded with soot for some time, and our white aprons which we had to wear were not white that day. I think the instructor when she came around was sorry she had not thought to tell us to over-look that part of the instructions.

But all in all I have always been glad I attended that school. Not only did I learn a few things, but I had a great time. I walked to the school, and it was over a mile. In winter it was possible to get rather frost bitten. And one time a train man offered me a ride on the engine, and I was foolish enough to take it. Rather dirty.

After that school, I went to Lethbridge to the Garbutt Business College. I stayed in the home of a mortician. I enjoyed the school and graduated, but found that I would have liked more experience before taking a job. I went back home and got a job at the Raymond School of Agriculture where I had been a student. I liked it there and stayed until the school closed. Then I worked in the Sugar Factory during the run. I ran the adding machine which totaled the weight of the beets delivered to the factory. I also worked there a little while when the stenographer went on vacation. After the run they offered me a full time job but we had decided to get married and so I thought I would only work again during the run, which I did until Denyse was born.

What did young people do for dates in those days? We went to motion picture shows, to church and church functions, visited in the homes as now, and sometimes took trips. To row in a boat on a lake near Lethbridge, and attend entertainments in Lethbridge. Visit the gardens there. A couple of times at least Howard and I and his sister and her boy friend went to Waterton Lakes, a pleasure resort in the mountains. About sixty miles from Raymond if I remember. Not so different, but not so easy to get cars to go around in.

Howard had been the boy across the road, as his family had moved into the house across the main road from us when I was about age twelve. He had two sisters, one about the same age as I was, Effie, and Lenna who was a couple of years or so older. We became friends. Not long after this "they" were saying Howard and I had a very bad case of puppy love.  For years some horrid boys in the neighborhood called me Howard. And they had chosen a great way to make life miserable for me. Years later I met one of those boys then grown up to a middle aged man, and to my surprise he seemed to be a nice fellow. I would never have believed that could happen when I was young. It is not only in this age that young people date too early, I have to admit.

  We had been going together for some time before getting married in the Alberta Temple 13 Jan. 1932.  I think we chose the coldest day of the winter to get married. We went to Cardston by bus from Raymond, and to make it even better the heating system of the bus failed. That took more than love to keep us warm.  My father gave us a little house he had in Raymond and we lived there for some time.

I had a garden and some flowers and could always keep busy. A few times I went with Howard when he went to work for farmers and the land was a distance away. After Denyse was born I did not go out to work again until after our youngest son was twenty-three.  So I stayed home and looked after the children, and after we went on the farm, raised chickens and turkeys and helped on the farm.

One day about a month before Denyse was born, there was a great storm of lightening and thunder. The Lightening hit the electrical wire near our house and knocked the electrical meter from the wall, and it rolled to my feet. As I was frightened of Lightening anyway, it was a wonder that Denyse was not marked in some way by this occurrence.

When Denyse was about 18 months, my father developed signs of cancer. He had a brown spot on the side of his face, and the doctor told him he should have it removed. But he grew up in the days when you never went to a doctor unless all else failed, so he did not have it done, and it turned to cancer. It grew into his head, and of course he could no longer be responsible for all his actions.  This was a terrible time for all of us, and finally we had to let him to go Oliver, where he stayed until his death. For years afterwards I dreamed about him and what he had to suffer. It was hard to understand why a righteous man should have to suffer so much. We felt we could not stand it, but had to.

So we had to move to the farm to take care of it. Mother sold her house and lived in our little house in town. On the farm we lived in the house my father built as his first house there.

The other three children were born while we were living on the farm there. We found plenty of work to do there. The farm was not big enough to make a good living, but it seemed to take as much work. We had some cattle, hogs and I raised some turkeys. The turkeys were a lot of work, as we did not have a barn for them. When the hens started laying it was too cold for the eggs to be left out, and it seemed like I spent my time hunting to find where they hid their nests. I managed to find enough to raise a flock of turkeys. I waited until I found the hen sitting on the nest all the time, and put enough eggs back for her to sit on. Usually some of them hatched. One year I raised 115 mature turkeys from 12 mother hens, and of course a gobbler.

The flocks, after the young were large, would take to wandering to the neighbors, and it was a job to bring them back. We lost turkeys that way too, as the neighbors raised a few turkeys and were sure some of ours belonged to them, and accused us of stealing them. Their turkeys wandered to our place first, and so mixed with ours and started them wandering. But rather than have a fight over it, we let them have what they claimed, although I knew they were the ones I had raised. We sold the turkeys after dressing them, and that was work too.

My father always told me that I could drive his car if he did not have to teach me to drive. No Drivers Ed. then. And it always turned out that someone who said "sure, I will be glad to teach you to drive" ended up not doing so. It was not until 1937 I learned to drive, the year Colin was born. Colin was born in the poorest year we had on the Raymond farm. I remember driving to town and buying a pound of hamburger the week before he was born. That was a great treat for us, and tasted so good.

We raised grain and hay, and sugar beets. We had a Japanese family from Vancouver to work in the beets. During the war they moved the Japanese people from the coast area. They took all they possessed and gave them very little for it. The Japanese had to take any kind of work they could find during the war. We built a shack for them to live in, that was all we could afford, as we were about as poor as they were then. They were good workers and we liked them.

It was a job watching the children and getting the work done. I would have to feed hay crews, and men who helped haul the beets and other things. We had help from time to time. It was a good thing a new mother got to stay in the hospital for ten days then, it was the only rest we got. I did get sick a couple of times and had to "rest".

We did not have a car much of the time. We had to have a tractor, and could not have both. So we rode to town in a trailer Howard built, pulled back of the tractor. I could not have a church position when we did not have a car. And the only time anyone from the Relief Society came to visit me was in the fall when they wanted to have a turkey dinner. Then the Presidency would come out in their fine car and fine clothes, and into our  humble home, and ask me to donate the turkeys. And so I did. Had to dress them too, of course.

While we went to town in the trailer, we would take the children to Sunday school, but as meeting was at night we did not feel we could take them to that. With the trailer it took some time to get home and was too late for them to be up.

We milked cows, and I traded butter for groceries. We could only have meat in the winter, when it could be kept frozen. So we had some chickens for meat in the summer. We did not have a refrigerator. We used a hole dug in the ground, with a cover. It would keep milk and water and butter cool for a day or two, but we were not able to keep meat long that way.

We had a coal stove and heater. I used flat irons heated on the coal stove, and everything needed ironing, no perma-press. Later I got a gas iron. We used coal oil lamps at first, and when we got a gas lamp we thought we had enough light for anything.

For a while after we moved to the Raymond farm I went back to town to wash with the washer there, but the washer was not too reliable. Later Howard traded a load of wheat for a used maytag washer. We got a gas motor and I could wash on the farm, when I could start the motor, or Howard started it for me. Many a time I started that motor when it stopped by a prayer. And sometimes nothing worked and I had to leave the washing in the middle and do it another day. That was frustrating as the water had to be hauled from the well for washing, and then heated on the stove in a boiler. Twice seemed too much, with all there was to do. And a load of wheat was a high price to pay for a washer.

One time we were all caught in town by a blizzard. Howard was worried about a heifer which was due to calve, but could do nothing about it until the storm stopped, when he walked to the farm. He hunted for the heifer, and found her and knew she had calved. He had little hope of finding the calf. She was standing by a small irrigation ditch, and he dug down through the snow to the bottom of the ditch. To his surprise he found the calf snug and warm under the snow and very much alive.

The house needed insulation but we had no money to do it, so were none too warm on the farm during the winter. The only warm place sometimes seemed to be in bed. For us, that is. It was a nightmare to keep the smallest child covered. No matter how cold they always kick off all the covers and lie there happily getting colder and colder. After trying sewing them in sleeping bags, and having them still get out, I often took them to bed with us. Then we knew they were warm, and so were we, if sometimes rather damp. (No plastic diaper covers in those days).

Several times we were storm bound in Raymond when I had gone there to wash. Howard would leave me and the children there and go back to work on the farm. Several times he walked through deep snow to bring a pail of milk to town for the children. You could not buy milk in the stores, but had to order it through a dairy and then they would deliver it, but you could not order it for only one or two days, nor get it delivered immediately when you ordered it. So we had to have milk, for the youngest at the time if not the others. We had a few good blizzards while we lived on the Raymond farm.

We tried to teach the children not to play with matches, but I suppose it only made them more determined to find out what matches were all about. One day Colin and Rod made a fire under our bed. Why under our bed? It was, they thought, big enough to hide what they were doing. I could smell smoke however so stopped that before the bedding caught fire.

Howard needed help in driving the tractor, especially one time when a calf belonging to his father which he was pasturing got away and headed back home. He and Colin went on the tractor to bring it back. They found the calf all right but Colin could not drive it the way it did not want to go. So Colin had to drive the tractor while Howard drove the calf back. Colin was six at that time and after that was soon driving the truck as well, but on the farm only. In those days when you needed help the children had to supply it, sometimes anyway.

We only had 40 acres of the farm that was irrigated, where we raised hay and beets. Several years the rest of the land was too dry for a good crop. So it sounded good when a man named Bishop Norton spoke at conference and told us what a good place Rosemary was to live and raise a family. All irrigated land and sure crops. Howard was not a bit interested at first, and said he had all the irrigation he wanted to handle. He was not going. But gradually something changed his mind and we ended up selling the farm and moving to Rosemary. We finally got everything packed up and on the train and wagon, and went by car on March 17, 1945.

What a move that was, as we took everything. Literally everything. I said I would never move again if we had to take everything we had on a farm with us. Cattle and horses went by train, and everything that we did not need immediately. A loaded wagon took the things we felt we had to have until the train load arrived. I even took a few plants with me, as it was warm enough in March that year to dig them up and plant them in Rosemary.

Being warm in Rosemary was what caused us to get stuck when we were nearly there. Had to get a new neighbor out of bed to pull us out with his tractor. When the cattle got there, they wanted to go back home right away, and were very hard to drive to the new farm from the train. After they got there they got away again later and started for home. A man saw them and corralled them and milked the cows, and we found them the next morning.

It took a long time to get everything settled in the house. There was painting to be done on some floors before putting all the furniture in, some changing and fixing.

We were afraid that the move would upset Bartley as he was three years  the following May 28th, and every time we had taken him anywhere he wanted to go home. The first morning he awakened in the house in Rosemary, he looked around and said "I like this house" and there was no wanting to go back home. It was home. That helped make it all easier.

On the Raymond farm the children could walk a half mile and catch a school bus by the time Colin started. Denyse had stayed in town with her Grandmother before that, and they both stayed in town during the winter. In Rosemary it was also a half mile to catch the school bus, and they could not stay in town. So they could easily walk the distance if the weather was not too cold.

When it was cold, but not below 11 degrees F, I would watch from the window until the school bus passed our corner. If the children were ready they could jog and run to the corner before they got too cold and catch the bus on the way back from Kunkles. When it was below 11 degrees their father took them to the corner. When the roads were so bad that the bus could not come, he took them all the way to town, riding in a box fastened on the back of the tractor.

Oh, that Rosemary mud, called Rosemary Gumbo by the people there. In rainy weather the children came home plastered with mud to the knees, more if they fell down. I had to scrape the mud off with a knife, and have them take the muddy clothes off in the entrance before going into the house.

Children always have a good time on a farm, and ours were no exception. There was a big "swimming hole" in the canal close to the house, where they had lots of fun. There were horses and a dog and cats, and gophers to catch and shoot. And soon chores that were not much fun. Just can't get away from work on a farm, especially an irrigated farm.

We always went to church, and there were people there we knew, and others we soon knew. The boys made friends and liked to go. Denyse had lots of friends in the church in Raymond but the move to Rosemary was not good for her. There were no girls her age at church and she had to take one year of primary the only one in the class. It was not much better when she got in the Bee Hives.  One year alone there too. Then the local leaders told her if she would try to catch up she could go in the class ahead. Then the Stake Leaders said no, she could not.  I think it would have been better for her if we had stayed in Raymond.

It was not always easy to get to Sunday School on time with the chores which had to be done first. But you could always do it if you got up early enough.

It is not much fun to start school, especially for boys used to running free on a farm. Denyse and Colin started in Raymond, and Rod started in Rosemary. It was hard for him. Bartley seemed more outgoing and seemed to like school.

We had some good blizzards in Rosemary too. One time we barely made it back from church, which dismissed early so we could all get home. Mother was with us and I do not know what we would have done if we had got stalled. Fortunately we made it into our yard.  That storm filled the closed car with snow to the roof during the storm.

Another time we were snowbound for six weeks. We had to make a trail through the fields, following places where the wind had blown the snow away. We used this trail when we had to get out, but the children missed much school, as did other students. I think they rather liked that. One time when the roads were plowed out after a storm, there were banks of snow seven feet high on each side of the road, so it was somewhat like going through a tunnel.

The time seemed to fly by on muddy roads and snowbound winters. Later we had better roads. And of course there was much good weather too.

We did not have electricity on the Rosemary farm either when we went there. No phone, and coal stove and furnace. When the North wind blew hard and strong in cold weather the only warm place was still around the kitchen stove. Before too long we got electricity and a deep freeze, but did not have a refrigerator. When I needed to keep the turkey eggs cool we got what was called a "cooler" which was big and seemed to take up about half our kitchen.

The first year in Rosemary we tried a few potatoes, and they turned out so well we planted more the next year. Howard's brothers had returned from the war by the next year and Lawrence helped us for a year, and Ing got a farm of his own and Bud helped him for a year.

That first year we found we had not left all the wind behind us. One of the reasons I wanted to leave the Raymond farm was the wind which blew dust into the house all the month of March and other times too. Now the spring we arrived in Rosemary a big wind came up and blew dust into every crack and crevice of the house. It was a Sunday morning early when it started, and we felt too dirty with all the dust to try going to see if they were having church. So we went off to visit Effie and Lovett in High River. It was a good visit and we enjoyed it. But I did not enjoy it when we got home and I saw all I had to clean up. It was a long time before all the dust was cleaned away.

I was always home when the children came home from school, but often out in a field or cleaning a poultry house. I liked working outside better than housework. The only problem I could not stand to have the housework left either, so tried to do both.

It was not long after we went to Rosemary that I was asked to be Relief Society President. I certainly felt unequal to the task, as I had not held a position in the church for a while. I tried my best and had good counsellors. One time I was notified of a death and the car was away, so I rode to town on Sweetheart. I felt silly riding a horse to town, so tied her a little way out of town to a fence and walked in.

I suppose I learned more than anyone else did. I remember one thing I learned was that you never ask one sister who considers herself a midwife to help another sister who thinks the same. Even if they are both sisters in the ward and should be willing to help where ever needed. And I found out that some husbands and fathers can be unbelievably helpless when something needs to be done. I had not before seen anyone so unable to cope with what had to be done.

And I learned how willing to do things are most of the sisters in a ward, and learned to love those I dealt with, which is the main thing you need to learn. And that no matter how busy you are you can do it. I know I was able to do it because my mother did so many things at home so that I could be away.  Later on I was again called to be Relief Society President. I was called to teach children, but have to admit I was far from good at it. I just lacked something all teachers need to have. I taught the gospel doctrine class for years and found that much easier than teaching children.

And in between I found time to be, at various times, Speech Director, Sunday School teacher, young girls secretary (attendance), Relief Society Secretary, member of genealogical committee, Stake Board member-Sunday School, Relief Society Visiting Teacher, Literature Leader, and Theology leader in Relief Society. But when they asked me to put on a drama, I actually was too busy. They also asked me if I would be on the building committee when they were going to build the new church. This was a big surprise to me, but I started jotting down things I thought were important. I had not had experience in building, but I had experience in living in houses which were not built as they should be, and I started from there. I got quite enthusiastic about it. And then I found out that when they had a meeting of the committee I was not advised of the date and time. In fact it seemed as if I had not been asked to be on the committee and no one missed me. I suppose someone, or perhaps more, thought I should not have been asked. Perhaps if I had asked around enough I might have found out when a meeting was and attended. But that did not seem the thing to do, as they notified everyone else.

I suppose everyone is given tests in this life to see what they will do. Perhaps this was just a test for me. I may not have been smart enough to be on the building committee, but I was smart enough to know that if I let this snub direct turn me away from the church I would hurt myself more than anyone else could. I was fortunate to know that the best thing to do in any situation was hold fast to the church and try to be a good member. Just set your goal and everything else will not matter in the long run.

First I raised chickens, for eggs, and broilers. I started having some turkeys, and then more turkeys. By the time Colin was going on a mission, or soon after, I had a chance to sell turkey hatching eggs. This I did until about the time Bartley finished his mission. And while I had the hatching eggs, first from chickens, and then turkeys, I was too busy to hold a church position other than teach one class. Hatching eggs take much care to be of any use.

Over the years I learned a few things about turkeys. They are very silly birds. And we had many losses. Once when we did not yet have a turkey barn, they were sitting on roots and trees in the yard. During the night some coyotes came and killed many of the turkeys. I think they frightened the turkeys so that they got excited and jumped or fell from the roots, because they could not have got them from most of the roosts. Another time after we had a turkey barn an airplane flew over, and the unaccustomed noise frightened them so that they piled up in a corner and smothered many of them. 

And speaking of turkeys, I always felt sure one of them swallowed the diamond from my original engagement ring. Turkeys have an obsession to pick at anything bright and shiny. And had tried to pick the ring off my finger, but I didn't think much of that until I noticed the stone was missing. I wonder if anyone found a diamond in the gizzard of a turkey? A diamond would make a durable piece of grit for the turkey.

I did not like the job of killing a chicken or turkey. I could not count on Howard being around to do it, so I became quite proficient in putting a cord around the neck and then pulling the neck out over a log, and a swift hatchet stroke did the rest. I just hope I do not have to meet all the poultry "over there" that I dispatched that way.

The children grew up, and likely they can remember more about it than I can. We had our worries, as all parents do. We tried to give them some good times as well as teaching them to work. We knew everyone needed to know how to work, if they are going to have any kind of successful life.

We went visiting sometimes; berry picking in the season thereof, even went several times to B. C. for fruit. And always the berries and fruit had to be "put up", some in cans until the garage burned up, and then in bottles. As the family was growing I often put up over 1000 quarts of food. That too was a bit of work.

We had three fires. First the garage burned up with the small tractor inside, the children's bicycles, and my canner, as well as other things stored there.  Once when I had turkey poults in two granaries a faulty brooder caused a fire and buildings and poults were lost.  And later we had a small electrical fire in the entrance roof. It was small because we had help to put it out.

The boys were a help on the farm, but of course often things they wanted to attend came at the same time as work needed to be done. It helped to have them run errands after they were old enough to drive the car. They drove the tractor from a very early age on our own farm.

Denyse visited Vancouver one summer with her friend Helen and worked there until time to come back home to finish grade twelve. Then she went back to Vancouver and was married there. We did not think it possible for both her parents to leave the farm at the same time, so it was decided that I would go to the wedding, and Colin would drive us there.  I hated those mountain roads, and they were bad at that time. We made another trip or two to see her, and the roads had improved a great deal.

I had Elise Shields make a wedding cake and we took it with us. We had a nice time there after we arrived, and the trip home went well. I found it a little harder without her help; she did a lot of ironing for me as well as other things.

One time Denyse sent her two children out to visit us for the summer and we took them back in a little car Colin had at the time. The exhaust leaked and we were all sick when we got there.

Colin worked a summer or two on a farm, and went to Brooks and worked there until he went on his mission. He was interested in cattle and got some of his own after returning from his mission, the Southern Far East Mission which lasted for 2 3/4 years for him. Then he went to the school of agriculture in Olds. The next year he went to the BYU.

Rod went to Brooks and apprenticed as mechanic. Later he quit to go on a mission, before Colin came home from his mission. One interesting thing, Colin had a suit made for him in Taiwan from a tailor there, and later Rod had a suit made by the same tailor in France. When Rod returned from his mission he worked in Brooks for a while, and then went to the BYU.

Bartley went on a mission before Rod returned, and then we were alone on the farm. After Bartley returned he worked for a while until the next semester and went to the BYU, and got married in his first year.  They came back to Alberta and were married in the Cardston Temple, the same place we had been married. I rather think Colin persuaded them to do that, and he drove them back for the wedding.

Colin liked to have cattle, and ended up with quite a few, and would come home in the summers and work on the farm. We looked after his cattle the rest of the year. But Howard had never liked farming too well, and so went out doing carpenter and mechanical work, and rented the farm. It was hard to keep the farm up on the rent, and so we decided to sell and Colin's cattle had to be sold. He did not want to work on an irrigated farm as his life's work, and we felt we should leave the farm.

Rod came home most summers and worked until school started again. One summer Rod and Bartly came home and helped us build the house in Rosemary. That was more a labor of love than a source of great income for them. We really appreciated it. We lived in that house until 1984, when we decided to go to the states with Bartly and family.  

Rod got married at the end of his last summer vacation from the BYU, finished the last year there and went to work for a while at Macy's in California. I think he liked it there, but before long the high cost of Medicare for them there forced them back to Alberta.

I think it was the year we built the house that I started going to work again. Both Howard and I worked for Pheasant Valley Farns for some years. Howard did both carpenter work and mechanical work there, and also helped with packaging vegetables. I did the bookkeeping etc. and also packaged vegetables.

One year we took a trip to the States and went to visit Colin in Reno. We arrived much too early one morning to suit him, but it was past the time I usually got up. We went a long way around to go home and had a good visit, except that the wind in a little valley blew the camper off the truck. We went again when Colin was married in the Logan Temple, and the reception in Reno. Rod and Maureen were there too. That was while they were living in San Rafael, I believe, and we went there.

Colin, although the eldest son, was the last to get married. I guess it took him quite a while to make up his mind. He had been attending the University of Nevada, and had a job at the Olds School of Agriculture. They loaded their things in our red truck, which we had driven there, and headed back to Alberta. We drove Colin's car home.

As I was not working full time at Pheasant Valley Farms, one year, after I had worked there five years, I decided to try for a job in Brooks. I worked for Bow Valley Veterinary Clinic for five years.

During the years we went to visit the children. We visited Bartly and Jacqui in Salt Lake City, and went to the Genealogical Library one Saturday. That surely encouraged my desire to have time to do all I wanted to do there.

We visited Colin while they lived in Olds, and later in Two Hills and then St. Paul, Alberta. We took a trip with Bartly and Jacqui in B.C. one year. And another year one in B.C. with Colin and Annette.

At one point Howard decided to have a shoe repair shop in Rosemary. He tried it for a year or so, but did not get enough work to make it profitable. As I was working in Brooks he decided to try it there, with good success. Later Bartly got interested in what he was doing, quit his job, and came to work with him. About that time they had to leave the shop they were renting, so they bought a store building in downtown Brooks. Other lines were added, and there was need of help, and after I had worked at a couple of other places, I quit and went to help them. We all worked there about ten years.

Then Bartly got interested in using the Computer. It easily became the main thing in his life so he wanted to get a job using a computer. It was not that he did not like the leather work he was doing, and was very good at it, but he now liked the computer better. He was successful and got a job with Tandy in Fort Worth, Texas. I guess the Lord helped us, as things were slower in Brooks then, when the Oil men left, and we could not expect to sell the business, but we did. As we had been working together, we felt that if we split what we had it would not work out well for either of us, and decided to go to Fort Worth together.

After living all our lives thus far in Southern Alberta we thought it would be nice to have a change. Can't say we grew too fond of Texas. It had many things to recommend it, but those bugs, cockroaches and related little creatures made life miserable for us. And the hot weather in summer was too much to endure.  We had been raised in a cooler climate. So we did not spend more than one summer there, but spent the cooler parts of the year there every year except the one we were on a mission.

We went to Salt Lake for three months the second year so I could work in the Genealogical library, which I had wanted to do for a long time. Ever since I was a girl I had been doing a little genealogical work. First I started typing what my mother had done. Then I started sending for information and as anyone knows who does it, genealogical work is very compelling once you start. So that was a dream fulfilled for me.

We also went back and visited Colin in Canada, for a couple of summers before we went on a mission.  One visit we extended our visit and went to Prince Rupert to visit Denyse. That was a good visit; even the weather was at its best, no rain and lovely walking. Mrs. Geddes took us up the mountain by cable car and the view was breathtaking. We could see Alaska from there. We were sure we would visit each other again soon, and so far the only visit was when Denyse drove to St. Paul the next time we were there to see us.

We suggested we would like to go on a mission to the Bishop in Fort Worth when we returned from the visit to Salt Lake. And we received our call.

And where did they send us on a mission?  Why, to what seemed even a hotter place. I guess we needed Fort Worth to get prepared. Miami where we spent our mission was so moist that it seemed even hotter. You could take a bath, and the clean clothes you put on afterwards were damp. When you arrived there the atmosphere as you stepped off the plane was just like a Turkish bath.

We had to have a physical examination before being allowed to go on a mission. Everything was fine with me, but the doctor called me into his office before Howard came out and told us that his blood count was so low that it was not safe for him to walk anywhere, or be alone. His machine read it so low the doctor was quite excited, but excited was not the word for us. Howard said "that will be the end of our mission". The doctor said not necessarily, they might get him fixed up. We asked if he could take the plane to Canada, for we could not afford medical costs in the U. S. if he had to be hospitalized for very long. The doctor said he would have to go in the hospital there first for a few days to let him try to get him stabilized. We were afraid that would cost so much we would not have money left for the mission.

We were certainly offering fervent prayers that this would not make the mission impossible, and that Howard would soon be all right. He entered the hospital and for some reason they did not take the tests the doctor had ordered. Either they were too busy or it was better to wait. When they took the blood tests, they said something is not right, and took more blood to test. Howard asked them if they were trying to take all the blood he had.

Howard asked me to go and phone Bartly and ask him to get someone to come with him to administer to him, which they did. Howard has had faith to be healed several times. In the morning the doctor came to see him in the hospital and told him his machine must have read the test wrong, as it was all right now, and he was sorry for putting him in the hospital, and he would pay anything the insurance did not cover. He never did pay that, but we felt it was all right, as we did not feel it was his fault. For we knew why he was better in the morning. The night he entered the hospital his fingers were blue and his lips. In the morning they were pink. He came home and continued to prepare for his mission. Our prayers were answered very quickly that time.

So it ended up that we had to be in the employment office because I could not stand the heat on the streets. The Mission President said he had sent word to the missionary training center to teach us about the employment program and give us some Spanish. Instead they put us through as proselyting missionaries, which we enjoyed, but it was not what we needed. We would watch elders going by on their bicycles and wonder how they could stand it. Most of the people were used to the heat, especially those with dark skins from South America and Cuba.

I think one of the main things I learned there was that people could be raised in this extreme heat and it did not bother them. I could not understand that.

I could understand the homeless people coming to Florida when it got too cold in New York and that area. But that meant we had many, many homeless people, and we also did have a few cold days in the winter. Because it was so damp a cold day was very cold indeed.

The Employment office was in a Bishop's office. And I learned that I was thankful I could never be called to be a Bishop. Being in his office, we got all the calls from people wanting something from the Bishop, and as we answered the phone, often they expected us to give them what they wanted. We learned how much the Bishop helped people from his own pocket. He would give everyone who asked for money a meal, and help in any other way he could. But as there were literally thousands in Miami asking fpr help, it was an impossible task.

The couple who had been in the Employment office before us had been blessed with an abundance of this world's goods, and they had been giving people money from their own pocket. This made it very hard for us to follow in their footsteps, as we were not able to give so abundantly. So the people who came to the employment office, or many of them, did not like us as well.

We learned something of the Spanish people. If they wanted a job and got us to set up an appointment for them to be interviewed for a job, maybe they would turn up at that time, and maybe you would not hear from them again. Their idea of time and our varied a great deal. They would do things "manuana" if at all. This did not encourage employers to make appointments for our people.

The people from Cuba were different in some ways from those from South America. The people from Cuba had the instinctive desire to take over everything. Consequently they were buying out the Americans in the area as fast as they could get the money. This trait carried over into church work too. I was told, but had no proof of this, that one Bishop who was a Cuban disagreed with something those in authority wanted, and led his whole ward away from the church with him.

I do know that at the time we were there, they were appointing bishops for the Spanish wards from the South American people. These were a very loving people, and it was a joy to be around them a good part of the time. If you became friendly with them, they always said they were going to invite you to dinner. But we learned to disregard this, as we never had to go to dinner, no matter how much they talked about next week or the following as the time we should go.

 The conditions in Miami were far from ideal. Castro had emptied his prisons some time before we were there, and they all came to Florida. Hence crime was as you would expect it to be. The Halls who were missionaries there were driving down the street and someone threw a bottle at them. Their aim was not good, as we all believed they intended hitting the driver of the car. A bottle thrown that way hits with great force, and this one made a bad dent in the door just below the window. The Halls were lucky.

Not so lucky were a pair of missionaries riding on their bicycles. A car drove up to one of them and hit him with something, and I have to confess that I cannot bring the name to mind. It was something which was very likely to cause serious damage, much worse than a bat. The missionary was in the hospital for a week.

They could not plant any nice flowers around the church, because someone would pull them all up the next night. Prickly rose bushes near the church was about the only thing that lasted, and they only dared have one or two of them.

It was in Miami that I had my purse stolen in broad daylight on a peaceful (seemingly) street. There were many people there who wanted to make their living that way. The one who stole my purse was a young black man, strong and capable of doing any kind of manual work to earn a living, if he was not qualified for other work.

No matter how careful the missionaries were with their bicycles they were stolen. One time while a meeting was going on in the church, the wheels were stolen from two bicycles locked to a metal post. Then later they worked the post loose from the ground and took the rest of the bicycles.  None of the children walked to school alone. Those who walked, if only half a block, had a parent with them. Others who had farther to go came in buses their neighborhood parents had purchased, and one of them acted as driver. 

The stolen bicycles were loaded on a small ship and taken to other places to sell. The police captured one such ship, and got the bicycles back, but no one could prove that one of them was theirs, so they were sold at auction. When the police recovered anything it never went to the one from whom it was stolen, it was always auctioned off and the money went, supposedly, to keep the police force going. In order to claim any stolen item, you had to have the purchase slip or the serial number at least.

There were many fine people there, but those who were not made it a very uncomfortable place for the others to live. There have been bad hurricanes and tornados there, and some of the young foolish missionaries wished one would come along while they were there. We were thankful they did not get their wish.

We enjoyed some of the animal and other life. We had almost a pet Iguana who liked to climb the porch pillar. And a few times we had a pet frog whether we wanted it or not. They would get up on the porch and slip into the house when we went in at night. The first time we wondered what that big brown daub on the wall was. But when the church custodian, a lady, killed a scorpion by the church we did not think we liked that. Someone told us that a scorpion came to meeting one day and headed for a foot in the aisle, but a few motions shooed it back the way it had come.

The houses are so close together there that the rule that missionaries could not have television could not be enforced. In the hot weather there all the windows had to be open and the houses being so close together you could hear the neighbor's television as well as if you had it in your home. You just did not get a chance to pick the station you preferred. Neither did you get the chance to shut them off when you wished. How tired we got of them.

We spent as little time on the streets as possible. It was nice and cool in the air-conditioned office. We did have to go the store and the laundry, but that was about it for the week days. We went to the same church as the Bishop's office was located in that was also the Employment office. We were not able to attend any function at night, as it was not safe to walk anywhere at night (or the daytime either for that matter, but it seemed safer.)

We talked with the people who came to the Employment office about the Church, many of them were non-members. Once they came to ask for help in finding jobs they had to listen to what we had to say. Not the best way to get them but the only one we had. We had some referrals for the missionaries, but did not learn what happened in most cases. We even had one man phone the office and ask how he could go about joining our church.  He was moving to Utah and thought he should be a member. I rather think he thought it was something like joining a motor club or something. We referred him to the missionaries, but felt it was rather unlikely that he would join.

I tried to do my part in handing out Books of Mormon, to the Dentist and Doctor and where ever we went. They were all polite about it.

We had a very good mission President and his wife, who did many things for the missionaries. I think most missionaries feel that they have the best President ever, and we did too.

The missionaries all had Christmas together, and it was a great Christmas. The Mission President's wife wrote to all the families of the missionaries to have them send presents for the missionaries to her, so they could be given out on Christmas day. What a variety of presents. One missionary got a microwave oven and one got a giant sized panda. I think the microwave was more useful. The mission president's wife made a pound box of candy for every missionary, all 161 of them, and she made most of it the day before.

The missionaries in our group of four couples who went through the missionary training center together all still keep in touch. Two couples went to different missions, and the other couple was on the keys, which was not far from where we were. It was a very busy time at the mission training center but we made good friends and had a great time.

In the house we lived in I had a constant battle with the cockroaches, but I was thankful we did not live in the house a couple of the men missionaries lived in; they had a constant battle with rats. I literally chased those cockroaches until they could run no more. One in desperation ran up Howard's leg inside his pants. He did not think that was a good idea, as it felt nearly as bad as having a mouse run up your leg under the clothing. We shipped some things home to Fort Worth when we left, but did not have to worry about starting a cockroach infestation at home, it had got off to a good start long ago.

The President and his wife had a fine dinner party for all the missionaries who finished their missions. Usually there were several leaving at the same time. I was going to say that the saddest thing was when one of the missionaries had to go home because of cancer in his leg, but a few who were sent home for misbehavior were causing as much sadness. All in all it was a great group of missionaries; practically all of them were true and faithful.

We keep getting notices of reunions for missionaries of that area, but we have not been able to go, and now likely we would not find too many we know.

We returned home in the spring and stayed in Fort Worth a While. We visited in Canada and went to Salt Lake again, so did not stay there all the time. We came home from Salt Lake earlier than we had intended because Bartly and family were moving to Washington near Seattle. So we went home and packed our things and went with them. And found this to be the best climate we have lived in. Not too hot very often and not too cold very often, usually about right.

Bartly had sent his resume in to Microsoft some time before he was accepted. Oh how I did wish he would move to Washington, as I knew the climate would be so much better and no bugs. I had a dream which led me to believe that he would get a job with them, but not then, it would be later. And that is how it worked out.

We like it here very much even if we are continually warned this area is due for a bad earthquake. If we have a bad earthquake maybe we will be able to go out of this life in a hurry. They say an earthquake lasts about two seconds. A long lingering illness is far from desirable. But I don't suppose I would be so lucky as to go in two seconds.

And that about brings me up to date on my life story. This is now March 4, 1992. Whether I will live long enough to add to what I have written remains to be seen. We have felt we could not afford Medicare here, but think we have now reached the point when we will have to either get it here or move back to Canada. We could live in B.C. with the same climate, but the cost would run nearly the same. The coverage might be a little better. We have this to decide before long. So will we remain? I would like to as all the few things we now own are here, and Howard would feel sad to leave all the tools. I will likely add our decision here later.

Note from the Webmaster:

I am adding my mother’s history to the Bettsclan website today, Sunday, June 08, 2003. My father, Howard, died at the age of 92 nearly years ago, and you can read his history and obituary on other pages. We are still living in Washington, and have recently moved to Snohomish. Mom is now 90 and still in pretty good  health. She doesn’t get out, but she does take care of herself except for once a week when my wife Jaqui and I give her a hand with cleaning, groceries, and so on. Mom is now 90 years old.