Killed a hen

There is a big whopping achievement I want to report.  It has been an entire year in the process.  It would not have taken so long if I would have really knuckled down to do it.  It probably would have only taken three months.  I finished typing up my Great Grandmother’s journals!  Well, there are only three years worth, 1961-1963.  I have been told there are more, many more, but nobody seems to know where they are.  Well, actually I have been told they are located in the missing trunk that I reported on here some months back.  I don’t know if this trunk really holds all these treasures, of if it is to blame for the loss of family priceless jewels.  I hope someday we can find out.  The journals amounted to roughly the equivalent of 120 typed pages.  Yea, I know, it doesn’t sound like much, but it was a long process.  I really enjoyed the walk through time.  The death of my Great Great Grandmother is in there although a small, undetailed account.  The assassination of President Kennedy was another interesting read.  While she records no emotions on the death of her mother, for days afterward she is sickened by the assassination.  She comments seeing Mr. Oswald being shot by Mr. Ruby and how horrible that felt to her.
I learned quite a bit about myself in the process.  Every week contains some reference to my Grandparents, Norwood and Colleen Jonas.  Sometimes it is as common as every day for a week.  There are references to operations on my Grandmother, Colleen and her having what was believed to be a cancerous mole removed.  There are references to my own mother losing her finger, which story I have also included in past postings.  Grandma Lillian references babysitting often my Aunt Jackie.
All in all, I gained a greater testimony of daily journal entries.  Her example is powerful.  The most mundane of activities are in some ways completely foreign to us 40 years later.  She visit teaches 10 (!) different households every months the entire three years.  What is more, she comments about it the beginning days of nearly every month, meaning it was done early and regularly.  It is strange to hear of the chickens being killed for Sunday dinner.  That is something you never hear of someone just deciding to kill the chicken for dinner that evening.  Telephone calls are still referred to as a novelty.  The insurance was incredibly cheaper.  I don’t know of anyone who mops the whole house every Saturday.  I don’t know anyone who regularly bakes several loaves of bread and puts up literally dozens of jars of goods every fall.
So I am glad that is completed.  I will return these three journals to my Aunt Lillian when I am visiting Utah in the beginning of April.
This week has been Amanda’s Spring Break but it hasn’t been much of a break.  She has been going to all these different schools telling the children how to take care of their teeth.
This week I was informed we found the marriage date and place for my Great something Grandparents.  William Sharp and Mary Ann Bailey Padley were married at Laurel Loup, Nebraska Territory 10 Jul 1853.  Leanne Maynes got a copy of the divorce papers which gave the information.  I am glad to have a copy of the papers and the marriage date.
I also applied to George Mason University Law School this week.  That leaves only William and Mary to apply to.  Their deadline is the 1 of July, but I hope to get it in within the month.  No point of waiting and have it surprise me the day before.  So far I have applied to Washington & Lee, University of Virginia, and George Washington.  I didn’t even see the point of applying to University of Richmond.  They required several additional documents and I don’t have any desire to go there.  I am not impressed with them at all.  I will tell you, it is an expensive process applying to these schools!  Anywhere from $70 to $90 a school!  I will have to make sure I save some money for applying this coming year.  If I apply to 10 schools, and they each charge that range, that is $700 to $900!  The good thing is some of them do not charge.  LSAC does for the report to send to them, but that is only $12 per school.  That is much more feasible.
Temple cards continue to trickle in from all over the world.  I have forgotten where so many of these cards go.  I have to leave it completely in the hands of the people who have them to return them.  I got some from a lady a month or two back from Seattle!  I wrote to her asking where she got them from.  She gave me the name of a woman who I did not know so the chain is longer than I have the capacity to follow in some instances.  This week I received about 30 completed cards that were first baptized in 2002.  I don’t have many cards that old out there anymore.  But they still are!  I fear some cards may have been lost forever.  I hope not.
Last week I taught the first lesson of the latest string of family history classes.  It went very well.  I am excited for this class and group of students.  They all came prepared and have actually done some work.  I don’t have to try to light the fire of family history in them, they already have it.
Time to sign off.  Life goes well.  Just wish I didn’t have to sleep.  How much more could I accomplish in a day!?

Sharp tragedies

It seems in order that I give some more stories I have found out recently concerning the Sharp Family History. 

Someday I will have to back up and do a history or outline for other family lines that I have learned so much about.

It is the stories that are most memorable, which are quickly passed down and remembered. Sadly though, they are the ones that are most traumatic. The Sharp line is one that certainly has not been immune to tragic tales.

Robert Ford Hunt, grandson of Victorine Mary Sharp and Robert Edward Maw; son of Ruby Ada Maw and Joseph Herbert Hunt is the first of our line. He was driving a farm truck when he failed to stop for a train near Marriott. He was 19 in 1931.

Paul Ross, the son of Ethel Sharp and John William Ross was taken to live with Victorine Sharp (Ethel’s sister) and Fred Hunt. In 1932, near the age of 10, he fell out of the loft of a barn in Plain City. He passed away three days later from a concussion. For an interesting note, he was born in Paul, Idaho.  To read more about this family, follow this link: Ross-Sharp Wedding.

Bert Fredrick Hunt, son of Fredrick Lawrence Hunt and Victorine Sharp, and Bert’s son Robert, were both electrocuted in 1960 in a Plain City dairy barn. Grandpa (son of Victorine’s sister, Ethel) told me that he was there that evening and helped them with their duties in the barn. When he grabbed the milk cooler it zapped him. It wasn’t very bad but he turned off the breakers and told Bert and Bob about it. We don’t know if they did not heed and turned it back on or what, but that same cooler would electrocute the two that evening. The milk man found them the next morning. Grandpa made the comment that it could very well have been him lying there. Grandma was apparently with him and both could have been part of the tragedy.

Edna Louise Sharp (she went by Louise) was the daughter of Edward and Lillie East Sharp. She married Ralph Anthony Blanch. They went to Othello, Washington for a missionary farewell in 1968.  In their rush of the morning, they were hit head on in an automobile crash. Both of them died in that automobile accident.

Florence Sharp, daughter of Edward and Lillie East Sharp, married Leonard Neilson. They had a son named Douglas Ray Neilson. Grandpa said they were going north through Willard in 1940 and there was a line of traffic. It was raining that day and the rains of previous days caused some washing out of the mountains. At this point in the road at Willard only a few cars were allowed to follow the grader as it would clean the mud and water off the road which kept reappearing from the rains. It was in this environment that Grandpa and Doug were in the back of the truck while Ed was driving. They finally started moving forward and Grandpa went to the passenger side of the vehicle. Doug went over to tell Ed something. When he leaned down towards the cab, putting his hand on the cab, he slipped (the old rounded top cabs). He slipped down between the cab and bed of the truck falling right in front of the wheels. It was the people in the car behind that flagged Ed down neither he nor Grandpa realizing Doug had fallen out. He was pronounced dead at Brigham City.

Marjorie Lillian Sharp married Farrell Clontz. His family had an old mine claim in Montana near the Canadian border. He was contacted at some point and told something along the lines that they needed to do some work on the mine or the claim would fall through and not be valid or something to that effect. So, that summer in 1955 he took his brother in law Milo Riley Sharp (differentiated from his grandfather by the same name) and they went to work the mine some. They took Farrell and Marjorie’s daughter, Nelda to help with the domestic side of life. Farrell was teaching Milo how to do the packing and loading of dynamite. We obviously don’t know what exactly happened. They did not come down for dinner so Nelda went up to find them. Calling out for them, nobody answered. Entering the mine, she found the lower portions of their bodies with nothing remaining of the rest.

Sherry Sharp, daughter of Edward Junior Sharp and Delores Salter, in a complete moment of irony, fell out of the car in the hospital parking lot. In the moment of rushing her mother to the hospital to give birth she fell from the car and was run over. She was flown to Seattle where she passed away days later from the trauma on Halloween, 1956.

Edward and Delores had another daughter whose plane went down on a berry picking trip in Valdez-Cordova, Alaska. She left behind a husband and daughter.

Anyhow, there are some other stories, but I have less information with them so they would be more speculative.

But for the sake of keeping track,

Milo Ray Sharp’s family would move to Sunset, Davis County to farm.

Delwin Sharp would remain in the Plain City area all his life.

Austin Sharp would move to Washington State.

Ernest Sharp would remain in Plain City.

William Edward Sharp moved to Washington State.

Victorine Sharp and her husband Fred Hunt would remain in Plain City.

Mary Irene Sharp would marry Oscar Childs Richardson and move to Tremonton.

Edith Sharp would marry Clements Richard Martin and move to Southern
California.

Ethel Sharp would move to Idaho returning to Plain City. There she would
have her last child which birth would take her life.

Far Flung

I thought another entry would be in order.  A few notes of interest first.

Tonight I again played Dr. Abbott in Squash.  Do you know how humbling it is to be whooped by a 60 year old man in Squash every week?  He is an orthodontic professor at the Dental School Amanda attends.  Anyhow, it is not all bleak.  I beat him 2 of 6 tonight, and 2 of 6 last week.  One of the games tonight was a complete shutout.  He did not make a single point!  Yeah, I am getting my game back.  It just doesn’t seem very impressive against a 60 year old!

For the family history plug, I have two miniature miracles to give.  Family history is one of those things that just keeps on giving.

I received an e-mail from a Juan Jose Breuer Moreno in Buenos Aires suburbia.  Instantly the Breuer name in his name had my interest piqued.  Well, he was sending me an e-mail about family history.  Come to find out, we are exactly 6th cousins.

Going back far enough, I had a set of great something grandparents whose last name was Breuer.  We are talking they were married in Kirchheim, Prussia on the 22 Jul 1777.  Their daughter, Anna Catharina Breuer would marry a Wilhelm Jonas.  A name that would come down through the years to be my mother’s maiden name.

Anna Catharina Breuer had a half brother named Carl.  That is Juan’s ancestor.  So I have officially opened communications with a relative who lives in Argentina.  Who would have ever thought I had ties to Argentina by blood?  I look forward to learning more about the family.  I do recognize that he lives in an area called San Isidro, which is a very affluent area.  It is also an area with heavy ties to the government there.  It will be interesting to learn of their history and if perchance it ties to the history of Argentina.

He tells me he has a full time genealogist working for him.  I wish I could afford someone to help out in the old East Germany!  Luckily this line comes from Rheinland which does make it somewhat easier, besides the language barrier.  At any rate, just what I have seen so far, this genealogist is very thorough and appears to have ALL the information one could want in relation to dates and places for important events.  I am especially interesting in learning what he has for the ancestors of the Breuer line, for what I have only goes one more generation (to1720).  Hopefully he has opened up a whole load more.

For another little miracle.  I received an e-mail from a lady who was inquiring about Sarah Amelia Donaldson from Ontario Province, Canada.  I always knew my Donaldson’s came to Utah via Ontario Province and Ireland.  So I looked into my records to find I did have a Sarah Amelia Donaldson.

I responded to her e-mail but alas, it was not the same one.  It is not uncommon to get e-mails that end up not taking you anywhere.

Oddly, a few days later, she e-mailed me back and said she had the strangest story (I don’t know the details, so I am assuming quite a bit here).  That she had told her mother that I have a different Sarah Amelia Donaldson.  Her mother made the comment that she had some records on that Sarah.

Her mother went and dug out a packet of papers.  At some point in the past, a lady knocked on the door with this packet.  She knew that her mother was related to the Donaldson family and left the packet with her.  For what reason, I am not sure.  She didn’t know what to do with it, it was any relative of hers so she stuck it away.

Here I come with a different Sarah Amelia, and this lady offers to scan all the pages and e-mail them to me.  I can tell you that I have received over 100 e-mails of scanned documents on my Donaldson family.  Granted one brother many years ago moved to Northern Utah and started my line.  But as far as I can tell, all the rest remained in Frontenac Township of Ontario Province.  She sent me scores of documents providing children, families, and information on families I had not traced too much.  (It is a line I have wanted to pursue, but have not).  She gave me information that traced this line of the Donaldson family across Canada to British Columbia, Alberta, Manitoba, and Saskatchewan.  These are lines that would have been difficult to establish noticing how much they moved about.  One line even goes to the Seattle area.

Well, I have made it through about half of the e-mails.  I have to admit, I am a bit tired of opening e-mails and inserting the information, but what a treasure of information.  Some of the family group sheets are very complete with all the dates.  Others just have names, and I will have to hunt down more on them at some other time.

But I am grateful to have added a good score of family to the file.  There is plenty more to go.  I am sure of that.  Just information I need to round out what she gave me would keep me occupied for a good while.

 

Well, there is a bit of an update.  Life continues interesting.

Sharp Family History Outreach

The past few weeks have held some very interesting walks of family history.  The Sharp family has always been one of the most difficult lines.  I will explain some of the reasons why later.
I have mentioned in past updates my interactions with Kent and Pat Nielsen of Provo, Utah.  He contacted me for the first time several years ago.  I found that he was a relative of mine.  We share the common ancestors of Thomas and Elizabeth Cartwright Sharp.  He was born in 1796
in Misson, Nottinghamshire in England.  We don’t know exactly when he passed away, but his wife immigrated to the United States with her children.  Sadly, she never made it all the way to the Utah Territory dying in St Louis in 1851.
We do not know with certainly what exactly the family’s plans were.  William (1826-1900), my ancestor, joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1848.  His sister, Isabella (1831-1904) joined in 1849 and is Kent’s ancestor.  None of his other siblings joined the church but yet they made their way to the United States.  We assume they came for the LDS cause since they embarked upon a ship predominately  LDS.  They finally arrived in St. Louis despite some considerable difficulties at sea in Nov 1850.
They stayed there for a time.  They held together as a family but the draw for William and Isabella to be gathered with the Saints must have been strong.  They eventually set out for Utah leaving behind them their non-LDS family (Their mother died in Feb 1851).  In 1853, Isabella and William set out for Utah with their new spouses.  They arrived in September of that year.   Joseph and Isabella Carlisle settled in Millcreek, Salt Lake County.  William and Mary Ann headed to Lehi, Utah County.  (I leave behind the Carlisle family due to the fact that they have several individuals working on that line including Leanne Maynes, who I come to find out later was working with Kent.)
Difficulties with the water, cattle, and neighbors prompted them to move elsewhere.  During the evacuation of Salt Lake from threats of the United States Government, they learned of open, available spaces in Weber County to the north.  They made provisions and picked a place moving there the next spring in Mar 1859.  Their daughter, Evelyn, is claimed to be the first white girl born in Plain City.
This is where things get a bit more difficult.  They lived there and were actively involved in the community.  William’s skills as a mason became useful and were employed often in the community.  The family was also actively involved with dramatics and music as well.  Somewhere in this time, discord became apparent in the area.  Somewhere from about 1870 to about 1879, William and Mary Ann (Bailey) Sharp were  excommunicated from the church.  It is also notable to show that they were not the only ones.  A list of individuals was read at a meeting in 1879 announcing their excommunication.  Several prominent names from Plain City are on the list, including; Skeen, Dix, Musgrave, Singleton, Noyes, and Davis.  There are many speculations for the reasons of this excommunication, but nothing is known or documented for sure.
Since we don’t know the exact excommunication date, we do not know how this played into the divorce of William and Mary Ann in 1876.  We do
know that there was a group of former Anglicans who asked for a congregation of the Episcopalian Church to be organized in Plain City.  William Sharp built their church and school for that purpose.
He would later remarry and would die in Mount Fort (Ogden).  Mary Ann we know a little less about, but she would pass away in Plain City in 1913.  With that as a backdrop, we can focus on some more contemporary family.  Anne Sharp would marry in the Endowment House of Salt Lake in 1872 to Daniel Claiborne Thomas.  Their family would for the most part remain active in the LDS church until the present.  The other three  children, Milo Riley Sharp, Evelyn Carlisle Sharp, and Victorine Mary Sharp would all remain away from the church for their lives.
Evelyn would marry James Henry Taylor and we still know little of their family.  They would make their way to Oregon and they are hard to follow with little more than census locations.  Victorine Mary Sharp would marry Robert Edward Maw.  The Maw name is well known in West Weber.  We still know relatively little concerning her family.
Milo Riley Sharp would marry Mary Ann Stoker in 1879.  She was the daughter of William Thomas Stoker and Emma Eames.  Her father joined the
LDS Church in 1852 with two siblings joining in 1860 and 1863.  Her mother passed away in 1863 and that same year her family immigrated to the United States.  They moved directly to Plain City.  Due to financial difficulties, each of the children were raised by separate families.
Mary Ann Stoker was raised by the George and Victoria Musgrave family.  (Her father would go on to remarry and raise another family.)  It was
during this time she took on the name of Lilly Musgrave Stoker (some records show her as Lillian).
Milo Riley and Mary Ann would eventually have 12 children; Milo Ray, George, Effie, Delwin, Ernest, Austin, William Edward, Victorine, Mary
Irene, Edith, Ethel, and Emily.  George, Effie, and Emily all died young.  Their 11th child, Ethel Sharp, is my great grandmother.
The Sharp family has been one of the most difficult lines to connect.  Ethel died in 1925 after giving birth to her 4th child.  John Ross and his parents were not able to take care of the 3 children so they were separated among Ethel’s siblings.  I have written more about this family at this link: Ross-Sharp Wedding.
Grandpa, the son of Ethel, has very few memories of his parents.  He grew up with the Ed Sharp family, and for numerous reasons has refused
to speak of them.  So any continuation of family stories or history has for the most part not jumped that break.
It was with interest that last year in corresponding with Leanne Maynes (Joseph and Isabella Carlisle descendent) that I learned she had some
contact with Mrs. Brenda Pett and Mrs. Carilee Sleight.  I found out they were descendents of Milo Ray (Milo Riley and Mary Ann’s oldest child).  I contacted them and initiated conversation.  The information, history, and photos they were able to provide gave a catalyst to opening up the Sharp history.
With enough information and history on the Sharp line, I began to feel the connection and felt to pursue the family.  The family although raised non-LDS would have several lines who would go on to become LDS.  Only two of the children would join the church in their lifetime, Mary Irene and Victorine.  Although many more lines would open up to becoming reclaimed through a spouse.  For the most part, some of the difficulty
in the Sharp family is still one of a house divided.  That introduced some difficulty in reconnecting the family and bringing them together.  So I will tell of my experience with a couple of the lines.
Brenda and Carilee are both from Milo Ray’s family.  They are a granddaughter and great granddaughter of Milo Ray respectively.  It has been interesting to get to know them.  Brenda is in charge of one of the family history libraries and her mother’s 40 years of accruing family history documents and history has been a valuable resource.  We hope to take this more available to the family and that it can be the means of tying the family together through documentation.  I visited with Brenda for some time this past weekend in touching base and looking to the future.
William Edward, known as Ed, married an active LDS woman and all their children were raised LDS.  This is the family my Grandfather was raised
with, and probably the most familiar of all the Sharp lines.  My personal interaction with Josephine Sharp Costley and Dean Sharp have provided the more human face to this family.  Even though Dean passed away just last month, it has been interesting to interact with these lines at my Grandparents 60th anniversary and at my Grandmother’s funeral.  I have corresponded with Delores Bair who was married to Ed’s son, who we call Eddie.  She provided a great deal of information on the Eddie Sharp and Ed Sharp family line.  I continue to actively pursue this line with Josephine Sharp Costley and Lois Sharp.
I received a phone call from Grandpa sometime last year informing me that a woman, Ms. Lynne Riddle had been to visit him asking for family
history information.  Lynne is a granddaughter of Edith Sharp Martin.  I have been in contact, but she seems to have fallen off the planet.  She
will not return phone calls and e-mails.  She was very anxious in corresponding earlier on.  However it seems she got what she wanted and does not want to share.  For what reasons I do not know.  I do sense it may have a question with the LDS issue after her apparent upset at my
Grandfather imposing his testimony upon her.  I do hope we can break any barrier that may or may not be in place.
Last weekend I visited with Mae Richardson, the youngest daughter of Mary Irene Sharp Richardson.  Mary Irene was the first to join the LDS
church of the siblings.  She joined in 1931.  Her family were all raised LDS, but seem to have had no contact with the rest of the Sharp family
after about 1970.  I just started sending out letters to those who I thought may be family of the Richardson family.  I received a letter back from Mae telling me she was related, and informed me who the Richardson “in house genealogist” was.  In phoned Mae and had a great conversation with her for over an hour.  I also phoned Karen Knudsen, who is her niece, the one who apparently keeps the family history information for the Richardson family.  I look forward to her first e-mail and corresponding and bringing that family back in communication.  The most impressive thing about Mae was her memory.  For being in her 80’s, she could still remember all her siblings birthdates and even locations for weddings, children’s birth locations, and much, much more.
I also relocated a connection through the Victorine Sharp Hunt family.  I met Archie Hunt several times.  Most notably I remember him from my
Grandma’s and Uncle Harold’s funerals.  Who can forget a man who has two prosthetic legs?  One cannot but honor and reverence a man who still
farms under those circumstances.  I look forward to visiting with Archie and reestablishing those links.
So, there is a great deal of work to do in relation to the Sharp family.  There are many descendants that are yet unaccounted for.  There are many
questions and holes just in dates and information on the current family.  Then the fleshing out of stories and life histories yet to be found.  It is good that I am not going about this alone.

Valentine, the joke

It has proved to be a rough week.  I am ready for it to be done.
This week was most notably known for the Valentine.  One in which it is expected one spends amazing amounts of money for flowers that are at their most out of season time.  I really wonder if the flower sellers did not pick this date for the opportunity to have the off season to keep work busy.  Then again, the effort to keep a rose bush blooming at the exact opposite time of year is very labor intensive.  Anyhow, as usual, I buck the commercial trends of which our society is based.  I purchased one rose off of a coworker who obviously had three dozen more than what she needed (husband, father, and ex husband (who doesn’t have any visiting rights, but she allows him some)).
However, that was not the part of which holds my interest, or that of Amanda.  She was glad to have me provide one little flower.  Ironically, since we don’t have a vase, it graces our large glass pitcher begging for the remaining dozen.  It is simpleness in expression, or complete lonliness.  I haven’t figured it out yet.
Back to the subject at hand, this is usually the time of year in which I have inclination to get my yearly sickness out of the way.  I started to feel it this week.  Amanda had her bi-monthly illness just a week or two ago, along with her roommate, and with everyone at the office.  I thought I had made it through, but somehow I touched a doorknob or something that carried the disease two weeks after the fact.  So Wednesday I started to feel a little under the weather.
In addition, somebody at work decided to have a chili cook-off at work.  What demon possessed her to hold it on Valentine’s Day, I will never know.  Perhaps some sadistic impulse.  We stayed up late Tuesday night putting together the finishing touches on the white chili, without the white aspect yet.  I even put 4 red peppers into the mix to help spice it up more.
Wednesday dawned too early and I hauled myself out of bed to work along with the chili in the Crock Pot.  (It is always the debate, do I capitalize it or not.  Since it is a name, but now has become an object.  kleenex or Kleenex?  Guys or guys?)
By lunch I had prepared the rest of the chili and made my way for the cook-off.  We all consume a small portion of each chili, then put two votes for our favorite two.  Yikes!  I consumed at least two spoonfuls of about a dozen types of chili.  There was a Creole Crab Chili, there was the white chili (I had to have a bite or two to make sure it tasted good, plus nobody knew who brought which so I couldn’t give it away that it was mine.  It was good, but I overcooked the beans.  They were almost mush.) and there was a ground chicken chili.  There was a turkey chili and a vegetarian chili.  Interestingly, the beanless and chili pepperless chili was the number 1 pick.  Guess it goes to prove that a chili doesn’t have to possess chili to be a chili!  What type of a sick world is this?  Just like a quagmire doesn’t include quag or mire anymore.  The winning chili was more of a Sloppy Joe (which doesn’t include Joe anymore either!)
Well, funny things happen when you eat a dozen chili samples in the same sitting.  To add to it more, you are starting not to feel well.  But after you eat a dozen chili samples, you grab a bowl to start your actual luncheon.  After everyone has had their samples, you grab a bowl of chili to consume for lunch.  I had three bowls of different chili.  I also enjoyed a few half servings of probably four other chili types.  (I did eat my 4 cupcakes, 2 salads, beer bread, and partridge in a pear tree).
To say the least, it was an explosive meal for me.  I found out this was true of most in the office.  A dozen chili samples, mixed together in the stomach along with soda and salad, capped with more chili makes for a very bloated afternoon!  I can’t speak for others, but by the time I went home the effects of the chili would linger for embarrassing lengths of time!  That afternoon, I had the thought hit me that I needed to lose weight because my stomach caught my eye as protruding further than I desire.
So, I head home for a romantic evening with my wife.  I present my two gifts, the lone ranger flower, and a kiss.  We head home after catching a few free movies at the local library.  Hmmm, Founding Fathers or a tourist guide to France.  Both highly romantic.  I ended up borrowing Nanny McPhee off the neighbor girl.  It was by far the wisest decision I had made all day.
All evening, I had to get up to do little things in other parts of the house so as to not be impolite to my wife.  (Yes, we do not break wind in the presence of the other, if we can help it.  Accidents do happen from time to time, on both sides!)  The only problem was, as the night progressed, the trips upstairs or for M&M’s in the kitchen proved futile.  At one point, the walking of 30 feet for M&M’s (honestly to relieve some pressure) found that the stench started to linger.  She insisted I bring the M&M’s over to watch the movie.  I insisted I wanted to keep them away from her in the kitchen so there were more for me.  Really, it is the walking that helps sqeak out those abnoxious little gas pockets.  At one point, the walk to the kitchen and back would not leave the smell.  They started to follow.  Amanda was totally grossed out.  I was completely embarrassed.  She discerned my treks to the kitchen and we had a good laugh, after she became conscious again.
Our episode continues.  Later Amanda walked over to the kitchen to find the smell still there.  All evening, wherever I released those little farts, they remained.  It was a form of a marital minefield.  She insisted she could smell them all over the place.  At the computer, in the kitchen, the bathroom, and heaven knows where.  Due to my situation, we could not spend more than 5-7 minutes together without my having to vacate the premises for the toxification of a remote area of the home.
Finally, exhausted I climbed into bed and still feeling bloated.  It was announced that if I released one in bed the end of the world would come.  For an hour it was in and out of the bed to preserve the nose of my wife.  Finally she fell asleep and I relaxed and fell asleep myself.
It was not at all romantic and I awoke on Thursday so sick and ill I did not go to work.  I originally thought it was a cold, but I am not convinced it was a form of asphyxiation.  Those gas bubbles entered my nose and my bloodstream to produce a near fatal blow.  It took a good 8 hours of sleep during the day and a priesthood blessing to remove the effects.
NEVER have a chili cook-off near Valentine’s Day!

Old Journals

Time has been flying by lately and I have been thinking or watching for something to write about.  It seems that some of it is so common knowledge, I wouldn’t dare post it here.  I still find so much of the ordinary as little miracles.  It seems so mundane that I would not want to bore the reader (which I have already started).
Then there are the little things that keep happening around us.  Anna Nicole Smith died.  The Colts won the Superbowl.  The Presidential contenders already starting.  Snow in New York.  Storms in Florida.  Sabateurs and terrorists in Baghdad are to be strangled.  Pelosi wants a plane.  Debate over whether the holocaust happened.
In the little world of Paul, everything marches to a different tone.  I suppose I just don’t see the world the same as others.  In fact, I seem to have the complete opposite of ideas about everything.  Since there always seems to be such a stark contrast, I don’t bother writing it.  Perhaps it is the fear of sarcasm.  Probably more of looking the fool.
For a note of news.  I received my journals in the mail this week.  The journals that were taken as evidence in my mother’s murder trial.  They were taken for what reasons I don’t think I will ever really know.  So, it has been since before 25 October 1998 that I last saw these journals.  Opening them, I feel like I am opening an old book from the 60’s.  Indeed, they smell like my Great Grandma Jonas’ journals.  (Which I am half through her last one)
Wow, I caught a glimpse into the mindset of a boy who turned 18 in the first book.  I found a boy who was getting ready for his first big move.  The first move from home.  The first move from family.  I was dying to get out and petrified at the same time.
I read of my wonderful, amazing, loving roommates.  They are still my dearest friends even today.  We communicate less, but I love them dearly.  I see into the mind of a boy who was very innocent and pure.  I feel the emotions of a boy who is disowned by his mother.  Stressed and devastated by the divorce of his parents.  Enthusiastic and zealous in learning a new religion.  Eager and a little too anxious after the girls.  There is the life of a young man whose stupidity is embarrassing.  In the same pages I am astonished by the insights of a boy who I would aspire to be.  Some of the mundane details are frightening that are noticed.  Yet, as dates come and go, I wonder why some of the most important events of life were not recorded.
I honestly see this person as so far away, foreign, and alien.  Yet I feel, somehow, the deepest intimations of the words.  Even the placing and style of the words on the page are familiar.  It scares me.  I laughed, I cried, and my heart swelled.  It was interesting to read the entries of others.  Some personally placed, others who were dictated to for the daily entry.  I read of the littlest events that were huge and read nothing of some of the largest.
Horrifying was to try and decipher what the investigators placed a marker for.  Some of the notes were damning to my father.  Sadly, some very important details and rumors which put him in a very bad light.  Perhaps I forgot them, perhaps I repressed them, perhaps time drifted them with time.  Other notes were of terrible destructiveness to my mother.  I record outlines of conversations with her on the phone which make me shutter in memory.
There were some events which were so extreme I could not seem to comprehend them now.  How after one conversation, I literally wept for hours.  My roommates horrified knew the details of what was taking place.  My heart broke into a million pieces.  My whole life crashed in one night.  It was with detail I emerged from that room to find my roommates sobbing as well.  They did not know what to do.  I sat at the piano and started to play.  James sat by me and told me he loved me.  I started sobbing and went to hide in my bedroom again.  He grabbed me and hugged me in the hall.  There I stood, embraced by James, bawling.  Within seconds I felt another embrace, and another.  Altan, Tom, James all held me tight.  We cried together that night.  They were my dearest friends and my world at that moment.  We all sat down afterwards and read the scriptures.  The Spirit manifest at that point was something I will never forget.  The love that enveloped us.
I describe my love for Kyla, Jennalyn, Amanda, Trisha, and a whole score of girls.  I talk of my heros and greatest examples.  Duncan, Tateoka, Christiansen, and Jentzsch families.  I had my first personal visit with my Grandparents and came to know them.  It was the first time I came to know my Grandma in a new light.  My life was beginning to be flooded with light despite the deep darkness hovering in all the pages.
It was a spiritual experience to read these pages.  They don’t even seem real to me.  Only hours later did my heart swell as wide as eternity in happiness and joy that I was this person.  I inspired myself.  Yet at the same time, realized what I had lost.  I have lost too much of that innocence.  I am now too mental, too cathartic, too doubtful, too old.  It was with a certain horror to witness what life had done to me and some of the decisions I have made.  I must needs repent.
Anyhow, it was a new experience.  In the end, I only scanned the last two books.  I lost interest and my memory became more keen.  It was so much as a story as just rehearsing something I already knew.  It is like learning to crawl again.  You just don’t have much patience for it after a while.
There were 4 journals they returned.  One is missing.  The good news is that it was the last.  I had just started it and was only into it about a month when it was taken.  It was probably 30 pages full at the max.  I am somewhat disappointed as I think those would be some of the most interesting.  What did I realize as things drew closer.  I knew things would break loose.  What was my reaction the night Dad told me he was going to engage Meta?  What was my feelings the night before the farewell?  What about shopping with Meta?  What did October and part of September hold that are now lost?  The Jerome County Sheriff insists they returned all the journals.  What happened to #4?  (There was another journal not placed in the numerical order.  An apocryphal one if you will.  Oh, I am currently on journal #17).
What does the next 10 years hold?  Will I read then of now and think similar things.  How stupid I am, yet how innocent.  How inspired and zealous?  I sure hope not.  Perhaps in 10 years, I can look back and say I was such a pitiful stig.  I complain, think too much, and am pathetic.  I have to change a few things to return to innocence.

Universal Health Care

In the recent light of the Presidential politics starting a wave of conversation on Universal Health Care, I thought I would take an opportunity to share what an unwise idea that would be.  Other than my own experiences within the nightmare of a system I found in Britain, I refer to a talk by Neal A Maxwell given to the Rotary in 1978.  It pretty well sums up the issue.

Neal A. Maxwell, “The Prohibitive Costs of a Value-free Society,” Ensign, Oct 1978,  52–55

An address given to Salt Lake City Rotarians, 7 February 1978

One of Rotary’s criteria reads, “Is it the truth?” Note that this very question assumes the existence of a standard by which truth can be tested. Another Rotary standard “Is it fair?” assumes a standard of justice by which certain things can be measured. Not a standard, of course, like metric measurement or yards and feet, but a spiritual standard that is constant even though it may often be applied imperfectly by imperfect people.

Such values involve more than rhetoric. When men and women protest an injustice, they often fail to see either the assumptions or the implications in their protest. C. S. Lewis once wrote to a protesting near-believer as follows:

“You say the materialist universe is ‘ugly.’ I wonder how you discovered that! If you are really a product of a materialistic universe, how is it you don’t feel at home there? Do fish complain of the sea for being wet?” (From Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy, Harper and Row, 1977, p. 93.)

The Rotary motto of “Service above Self” assumes the presence of certain instinctive values attesting that man is more than an animal. It would be ludicrous to have such a standard if it were, in fact, out of our reach. Indeed, our very reaching and stretching tell us much about who we are. Also in your literature is a statement stating how, at one point in the early history of Rotary, it became clear that “camaraderie alone could not sustain the organization; soon service to the community became” your binding strength. You had rediscovered an old truth about human nature: It was said by the Scottish minister, George MacDonald, that love of one’s neighbor is “the only door out of the dungeon of self.” (George MacDonald Anthology, by C. S. Lewis, pub. by Geoffrey Bles, 1970, p. 39.)

I come to you today as one who accepts with most, if not all, of you the existence of certain absolute truths in the universe from which there has been a severe slipping away on the part of many. The slippage has occurred, I fear, without awareness on the part of many as to what happens when we move to a spiritually standardless society. Beliefs or the lack of them do affect behavior.

Lest any here be anxious about whether I will take a theological turn in my remarks today, let me simply say that many of the standards and values in the great religions of the world are held far more in common than some realize. Besides, we cannot fail to notice that we are at one of those hingepoints of history when, as Hermann Hesse said, “a whole generation is caught … between two ages, between two modes of life, and thus loses the feeling for itself, for the self-evident, for all morals, for being safe and innocent.” (Duncan Williams, Trousered Apes, Arlington House, 1971, p. 59.)

For today’s purposes, what I mean by “self-evident morals” and “basic values” are fundamental truths such as the Ten Commandments, which are so much a part of our Judeo-Christian heritage. These values resist rationalization and redefinition, and any amendments to the Ten Commandments would come from the same Source as did those original commandments. We are, of course, free to obey or not to obey those commandments. We are not free to try to amend them to read, for instance, “Thou shalt not commit adultery except between consenting adults.” We may, by legislation and regulation, vainly try to create a zone of private morality. But there is, ultimately, no such thing as private morality; there is not an indoor and an outdoor set of Ten Commandments. Neither is it useful to cite human shortfalls as an excuse to abandon all absolutes, because striving and falling short of accepted standards is very different from having no standards at all.

There is an ecology that pertains to human nature just as there is an interrelatedness pertaining to nature. This spiritual ecology embodies certain laws which, if violated, will produce certain consequences. These laws, though less acknowledged, are as irrevocable and active as the laws of nature. They do not cease to operate simply because we do not recognize them, any more than one is protected from the consequences of eating a poisonous toadstool just because he believes it to be a mushroom.

We had better want the consequences of what we believe or disbelieve, because the consequences will come!

The high costs, indeed the prohibitive costs, of living in a standardless society are also incurred in so many secondary ways. For instance, a society which is uncertain of its basic values will engage in endless and expensive experimentation of both a governmental and a personal variety. The Frenchman, La Rochefoucauld, could have been describing so many of our modern experiments when he said, “There goes another beautiful theory about to be murdered by a brutal gang of facts.”

Few such recent experiments in America have been more costly and counterproductive than some in our schools. Pupil test scores are declining, and the costs of education are increasing. The move to relevancy has produced a curriculum, some of which is irrelevant to such basic skills as reading and writing. Pass-fail courses and the inflating of grades are milder symptoms. Taxpayers are often paying at least twice to teach some pupils how to read, and in many cases, it is still not happening! Our schools and colleges must respond to genuine needs for changes, but there are times when to be fashionable is to fail one’s foremost constituents.

These things are not said simply to scold the schools, as if the failures were located there and there alone. Nonfunctioning families bear much of the blame. The fact is that basic values are interactive and so are the basic institutions which have rested upon these bedrock values. Alter the basic beliefs and you alter the chemistry of society.

In education or elsewhere it is difficult to say which came first—the reluctance to measure or the reluctance to be measured. But in the end the results are the same. In this connection, some have been too slow to see the implications in the conclusion which is reached by many, “If there is no divine reward or punishment related to my personal performance, why should there be any mortal concern with merit?” The assumptions underlying such a conclusion are in gross error, but the logic is relentless!

Functional illiteracy in America is high in certain age groups. This is in addition to a more massive economic illiteracy about how our system works, which is an even more ominous failure. Even though our governments are bigger and more powerful than ever, many in the rising generation know less and less about how we are governed.

Value-free experimentation is extremely costly—both in terms of money and of souls, and it creates what has been called the worst slum of all—the slum of the human spirit, for many students and citizens are starved for earned self-esteem. A standardless society will also find itself deaf to the costly lessons of history. Winston Churchill chose as a stern warning motto for his concluding volume of the history of World War II these words: “How the Great Democracies Triumphed, and so Were able to Resume the Follies Which Had so Nearly Cost Them Their Life.” (Triumph and Tragedy, Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1953.) A value-free society focuses upon things like “me” and “now”—it has little sense of history out of which to fashion the future. If nothing lies ahead of men, how vital is memory? A healthy regard for the past is usually accompanied by a healthy regard for the future; and a lack of one usually means the lack of the other.

But how can a society set priorities if there are no basic standards? Are we to make our calculations using only the arithmetic of appetite?

A society not based upon key values like loving our neighbor will inevitably subsidize selfishness and will place a premium upon an apostate form of individualism at the expense of community. Bear in mind, for instance, that if we do not see ourselves as more than temporary, biological brothers, our behavior changes. When we repudiate our traditional relationships with God and man, it is so much easier to repudiate not only debt but to repudiate relatives. If one really has no relatives, to whom do such people belong? Why, to that collective catch-all, society, of course! But as we generalize responsibility for relatives we particularize loneliness and misery.

Yet if self-interest is the final determinant, why should we be inconvenienced by the needs of others?

We have been used to speaking of our political system (as envisioned by the founding fathers) as one in which opinions collide constitutionally, wherein vested interests cancel each other out, or tame each other before a safe majority is formed, or, at least, in which vested interests are brought out into the light by the democratic process. Indeed, this system has served us well. Winners and losers have played out the drama almost always within constitutional constraints, as turns have been taken at the levers of power by different majorities. What was not allowed for fully, however, nor could it be, is what happened when government, instead of remaining a referee, first became a participant and then became a possibly permanent majority itself.

It remains to be seen whether or not our nation can tame big government. There is, frankly, no precedent for dismantling, even partially, a welfare state, especially in a peaceful and constitutional way. Such a Goliath will not go quietly to surgery.

One analyst of political things has observed that in addition to the happy consequences of democracy, the system tends to produce two unwanted side effects—bureaucracy and apathy. These are not inevitable side effects, but they are probable side effects. We are experiencing these symptoms in America. Yet, alas, Thomas Jefferson said our republic’s future rested on the assumption that our citizens would remain attentive and informed.

The shift in values has produced another shift in political point of view. George F. Will, the perceptive Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist, noted just one example in the difference between the old liberalism and a new liberalism:

“The old liberalism delivered material advantages that were intended to enable people to live the lives they had chosen. The new liberalism, typified by forced busing and affirmative action and the explosive growth of regulation, administers ‘remedies’ to what society’s supervisors consider defects in the way people live.” (Newsweek, 23 Jan. 1978, p. 88; italics added.)

Decrease the belief in God, and you increase the numbers of those who wish to play at being God by being “society’s supervisors.” Such “supervisors” deny the existence of divine standards, but are very serious about imposing their own standards on society.

It is no accident that the lessening, or loss, of belief in certain absolute truths, such as the existence of God and the reality of immortality, has occurred at the same time there has been a sharp gain in the size and power of governments in many portions of the world.

Once we remove belief in God from the center of our lives, as the Source of truth and as a Determiner of justice, a tremendous vacuum is created into which selfishness surges, a condition which governments delight in managing. Trends become a theology. A religion of regulations emerges in which tens of thousands of regulations seek to replace the Ten Commandments.

And with this secular religion comes a frightening insistence on orthodoxy, enforced by the withdrawal and bestowal of benefits. Such governments inevitably tend to enlarge taxes and to stunt their citizens. John Stuart Mill observed:

“A State which dwarfs its men, in order that they may be more docile instruments in its hands even for beneficial purposes—will find that with small men no great thing can really be accomplished; and that the perfection of machinery to which it has sacrificed everything will in the end avail it nothing, for want of the vital power which, in order that the machine might work more smoothly, it has preferred to banish. (“On Liberty,” Great Books of the Western World, v. 43, p. 323.)

This dwarfing of the individual is one of the prohibitive costs of a value-free society! The state will never wither away in a spiritually standardless society. It will simply swell and become more strong, more ominous, and more serious. Maxwell Anderson had a line in one of his plays in which a discouraged character asks plaintively why governments can’t be “small and funny” any more.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a martyr in 1945 to a big and serious state, grown impatient with Bonhoeffer’s allegiance to God instead of to the Fuhrer. Of Bonhoeffer’s beliefs, G. Leibholz wrote: “If Christian teaching does not guide us in the use of freedom and God is denied, all obligations and responsibilities that are sacred and binding on man are undermined.” (The Cost of Discipleship.)

The costs of dictatorships are devastating. Even the garden variety versions of totalitarianism are expensive. When “God is denied” all sacred obligations and responsibilities “are undermined.”

Can we really afford a society in which we do not believe in the principle of work? Inflation has several causes, but any lasting cure must include increased productivity. Besides, work is a spiritual necessity, even if it is not an economic necessity, which it is.

Can we really afford a society in which the family, our most basic institution, is further diminished? Most of us revolt at the idea of having children raised by the state, but step by small step we are moving in that direction. If our society’s success depends on having a critical mass of citizens with a sense of fair play and justice, and with love and concern for others, where do citizens usually acquire those crucial virtues, if we acquire them at all? We usually acquire them first and best in the family. The family garden, as has been said, is still the best place to grow happy humans. Society already pays terrible costs for the products of tragically flawed families, but if our nation further undermines the average family, the costs will be catastrophic.

What we do with the family is going to determine what happens to our whole society. The wise Catholic writer, G. K. Chesterton, observed years ago that only men to whom the family is sacred will ever have a standard by which to criticize the State, because “they alone can appeal to something more holy than the gods of the city.” (Everlasting Man, Image Books, 1955, p. 143.)

The basic strands which have bound us together socially have begun to fray, and some of them have snapped. Even more pressure is then placed upon the remaining strands. The fact that the giving way is gradual will not prevent it from becoming total. For instance, schools which fail put even more pressure upon the institution of the family, and vice versa. A lowering of standards or discipline in the one means great difficulty in the maintenance of standards and discipline in the other.

Given the tremendous asset that the family is, we must do all we can within constitutional constraints to protect it from predatory things like homosexuality and pornography. Of pornography Ronald Butt wrote in the London Times:

“The history of the Roman arena instructs in how the appetite of a people can be created by what is fed to it—the upper classes of Rome were systematically addicted by their ruler to the frenzy and titillation of sadistic violence by a steady progression from less to more until the Roman character itself was conditioned to a coarse insensibility to suffering.” (Feb. 1976.)

We need to reflect on how many of our sad trends represent a “steady progression from less to more.”

If the family is not basic, however, and is not something of immense value, why worry about wrecking it?

Our whole republic rests upon the notion of “obedience to the unenforceable,” upon a tremendous emphasis on inner controls through self-discipline. The historians Will and Ariel Durant observed that “if liberty destroys order, the hunger for order will destroy liberty.” But keeping liberty and order in tension balance requires tremendous self-discipline in the citizenry of a nation.

Can we really afford the ultimate costs of governments which, in lieu of self-discipline, impose more and more outer controls?

But if liberty is not basic, why worry over such trends?

If we are immortal, however, we are immensely more important than a government which may only last a moment in the expanse of eternity.

But if there were no God and we were merely transients, then what would be wrong with governments pushing us around? Indeed, what would be really wrong about anything at all?

Our value crisis gathered some of its momentum because at first it produced an artificial sense of new freedom. Morris West warned:

“Without the Faith, one is free, and that is a pleasant feeling at first. There are no questions of conscience, no constraints. … It is only later that the terror comes. One is free—but free in chaos, in an unexplained and unexplainable world. One is free in a desert, from which there is no retreat but inward, toward the hollow core of oneself.” (The Devil’s Advocate, New York: William Morrow Co., 1959.)

Secularism also produced an artificial sense of security. A good example of this is what has happened to our Social Security system in America. Principles gave way to political promises, and the secular theology with its “cast your care upon Social Security” has now exposed its hollowness—like the billboard outside Chicago ten years ago that read, “Borrow enough from us to get completely out of debt.” Sad as it is to say it, the hard choices ahead for the nation regarding our Social Security system could pit the young against the old and the middle class against the poor. The system is scarcely “social” in such a setting; likewise, the financial unsoundness of the system scarcely deserves the word Security. What we have is thus neither social nor security. Ahead of us are additional days of reckoning besides the one noted many times in the Bible.

But those who do not believe in ultimate personal accountability are not as likely to be concerned with the forms of proximate accountability for each of us. Those who lack self-restraint will see little need, for example, for governments to discipline public spending.

We must not dismiss too quickly the importance of believing in the reality of immortality. A friend, Dick Hazelett, wrote perceptively about what happens when life is “continually dampened by the thought of its own continuous annihilation. Then only fleeting pleasures remain, unconnected in time. … When pleasures become disconnected, the intense ones stand out … like branches stripped of leaves. … Raw experience as such becomes the goal. Work becomes drudgery, nature becomes boring, … children are nuisances (which they then become), sympathy and affection are perceived as ‘sticky,’ … chastity is no longer worth the sacrifice, and freedom isn’t worth a fight.”

Different beliefs do make for different behaviors; what we think does affect our actions; concepts do have consequences. As Christopher Booker said:

“When men cease to aspire to the ideal, the good, to self-restraint—whether in their hearts or in their lives—they do not just stand still, but actually turn the other way, finding self-fulfillment in self-indulgence, and in … those three ultimate expressions of the totally self-centered life: sex, violence, and insanity.” (Trousered Apes, pp. 14–15.)

We must bear in mind that while there are obvious differences as to what all the basic truths and values are, having such tactical differences is very unlike the sad conclusion that there are no such basic truths at all. When these basic divine truths do not play a significant role in our lives, it creates much ambivalence over issues such as the relationship of personal property and political majorities. Few things are more frightening to see than envy when it is politicized.

If we are not committed to certain truths, ambiguity will replace absolutes, tentativeness will replace truth, regulations measured by the pound instead of by principles will replace liberty, a tenured bureacracy will replace democracy, and hesitancy will replace heroism.

Once society loses its capacity to declare that some things are wrong per se, then it finds itself forever building temporary defenses, revising rationales, drawing new lines—but forever falling back and losing its nerve. A society which permits anything will eventually lose everything!

Take away a consciousness of eternity and see how differently time is spent.

Take away an acknowledgment of divine design in the structure of life and then watch the mindless scurrying to redesign human systems to make life pain-free and pleasure-filled.

Take away regard for the divinity in one’s neighbor, and watch the drop in our regard for his property.

Take away basic moral standards and observe how quickly tolerance changes into permissiveness.

Take away the sacred sense of belonging to a family or community, and observe how quickly citizens cease to care for big cities.

Those of us who are business-oriented are quick to look for the bottom line in our endeavors. In the case of a value-free society, the bottom line is clear—the costs are prohibitive!

A value-free society eventually imprisons its inhabitants. It also ends up doing indirectly what most of its inhabitants would never have agreed to do directly—at least initially.

Can we turn such trends around? There is still a wealth of wisdom in the people of this good land, even though such wisdom is often mute and in search of leadership. People can often feel in their bones the wrongness of things, long before pollsters pick up such attitudes or before such attitudes are expressed in the ballot box. But it will take leadership and articulate assertion of basic values in all places and in personal behavior to back up such assertions.

Even then, time and the tides are against us, so that courage will be a key ingredient. It will take the same kind of spunk the Spartans displayed at Thermopylae when they tenaciously held a small mountain pass against overwhelming numbers of Persians. The Persians could not dislodge the Spartans and sent emissaries forward to threaten what would happen if the Spartans did not surrender. The Spartans were told that if they did not give up, the Persians had so many archers in their army that they would darken the skies with their arrows. The Spartans said simply: “So much the better, we will fight in the shade!”

Snowballs

This was just so funny I had to share. This is the narrative given of Brad Hales about an experience Amanda and I had even before I took a liking to her. So it is exaggerated in that sense. But still pretty darn funny.”Sorry for the long delay in emails! For some reason my life got really busy last week, but I think things are slowly slowing down, so I thought I would respond to your email. I was going to respond on Sunday morning, but it snowed a few inches and as I was walking into the house from our 7 a.m. priesthood meeting, I noticed the walks were not scraped, so at first I thought ahh, somebody else will do it, but then I remembered a little story about a girl named Amanda and a boy named Paul! Here let me tell you how I remember it “Well I do believe it was a snowy Sunday morning and a strong, strappling, busy, yet thoughtful Stake Sunday School President, named Paul decided to scrape a walkway to church for everyone in the little cul-de-sac where they lived. Well, as he was busy serving his fellow ward members, I do believe he was hit on the back with a snowball, which at first he thought “how rude” until of course he saw the assailant, which then his thoughts turned a more of a “oh baby!” Of course the snowball was thrown by a “saucy” somewhat innocent, yet guilty enough, beautiful red headed 18 year old named Amanda! Well, folks not much else need to be said, as far as the record goes, the two are happily married and living in the east somewhere, where she’s still saucy and he’s still serving his fellow ward members and of course whenever he see Amanda, he still says “oh baby!”