by

Mom’s Fall 07 Letter

The last time I talked to the appt atty I asked if anything would be happening this year and he said no.  I got to write him and see if he will tell me anything.  He says my case is rare and he has only found 1 case law in Colorado.  I do not know if I ever sent you the statement Ron sent me that came off the Times News website or not but I will send it to you again.  “Randy Stoker decided the evidence would be so prejudical that he negotiated a plea from murder in the first, possible death penalty to murder 2/25 to life with the possibility of parole after 25.”  I received this in Jan 2005.  I never knew nothing about this.  Stoker sold me out and the whole world knew about it but me.  No one and I mean no one pleas to the max sentence.  The PA knew about it and it only takes 2 for conspiracy Carlson knew about it cause he sentenced me to exactly what Stoker sold me out for.
Burr-Jones flat out told me there is no evidence against me.  Statistics of survey shows 1 out of every 33 people are innocence.  Franz sent me some info on judges and juries and the errors on convictions is in the 80%’s.  I hope you stay as far away from criminal law as possible.  That means politics too.  Larry Craig found out he caint just withdraw your plea anytime you want when he got caught with his dick in his hand.  Politics is all corrupt.  Do not tell me I do not know what I am talking about.  I am twice your age but I am not as stupid as you think.  I have never had anything to do with politics and I never will.  I am anarchist and do not like the corrupt govt and I have seen a lot of it.  That is why I have never voted and never will.  That is why I am Atheist too cause I am strong enough to take my life in my own hands and not need to rely on an imaginary things like deities or the human species like JS and BY who were cold-blood bastards!  I read a book last week called “The Ferry Woman A novel of the John D Lee and The Mountain Meadow Massacre” by Gerald Grimmett.  Put it on your books to read list and check it out.
What about William’s other son Chad?  You know anything about him?  He had 5 boys right?  There was 2 older and 2 younger than Kent my age.  They were all pretty good looking boys so I imagine they all ended up handsome men.  I have never seen any of them since ’68 when we moved to this shit hole.  I believe Marc wrote me when I was first arrested and was at Cassia.  What did he retire from?  He is younger than me and I aint of age to retire yet.  He have health problem or just spent 20-30 yrs with the same co.  He was incarcerated at the time he wrote me.  How many of them more than 1 wife?  Did not you say Edith was in Stockton and that was how you found Kent?  Just trying to remember back.  I guess you know you favor the Andra side of the family.  So does Doug.  The last picture I seen of Doug it looked like he was losing the top of his hair.  I hope you do not lose yours but then I wondered cause you changed your hair style and started to comb it in the lazy man way of combing it forward.  Your hair was so pretty, then you started putting goop on it, now you comb it forward with no style.  How come?
I heard Crabtree fill in butt fucks place after karma got him.  I understand from people here who know of him that he is a pretty fair and decent guy.  No I do not think he belongs to the LDS cult from what I have been told.
I thought you wanted to go to U of V?  How come all of a sudden you are going to come back to this shit hole?  You caint go to USU any more?  They have the Innocence Project at Moscow?
Now before I get into the rest of your letter I want to ask you a question.  A few months ago I asked if you could send me a little money.  You said no but yet you flew cross country, bought a pickup and now plan on going to Europe.  So I will ask you if $50 is going to set you back that much that you caint spare it?  I have been living off my last check of $19 for the month of June.  My last envelope is going to you now.
Since I was not alive in ’46 I caint know what went on.  I only know Dad worked at Sego Milk.  They did wait to have kids.  They build their house and got settled before kids came along.  Dad was sent back east when he came home there was a lot of money put into the factory when they put in the diet line.  A product like Slimfast type stuff.  Then they shut the Richmond factory down and left the Buhl one open.  Then they decided they made a mistake a few years later.  They should of closed the Buhl one and left the Richmond one running.  We moved to Burley and Dad worked for Del Monte.  The water tower is a memorial of Dad cause he made it.  Then he got ran over.  The End of him.  Colleen worked at Del Monte in Smithfield but I do not know how many campaigns and do not care.
Being Grandma Jonas lived in Richmond we could ride our bikes up to her place.  Grandma had chickens and pigs and a good size garden so she pretty much was self sufficient.  Bottled her vegs and had a root cellar.  Grandma was pretty much poor.  Dad came from the wrong side of the tracks.
As far as the Andra’s went my family was the black sheep cause my Dad turned against the fucking religious cult they believed in.  Every time we went up there I always got blamed for everything.  Grandma must not of liked me very much.  Finally Colleen told Grandma to get off my ass that all my life she had rode my ass and to get off it and leave me alone.  As far as I know I was the only one who ever got baby blankets from her.  But spending all my life being got done on by her had its affect.  Grandpa was a farmer.  That was about all I say for them except when Colleen asked about a guy I was running around with from Preston, she told Colleen he was an outlaw so I fit in real well.
You were in Wyoming on the Leefe job the summer of ’79.  You was still in the oven baking.  I had been back in Idaho to start the been campaign 1 week and you were born.  You were up there in ’80 too.  Rode in the loc with me till I got wrote up for having you in there.  I took care of you when I got in the wreck at Max.  Just cause I lost my legs and was bunged up did not mean I did not take care of you.  I still had arms and could drag myself around.  Same way when I cut my arm in half.  Like I said I cut my arm on New Years Eve and had it back in use when I wrecked Feb 10th.  I left in Mar or April to take apps for the Soda job.  You do not seem to understand Paul that I am a surviver and I could not afford to be laid up.  I had a son and needed to support him and myself.  You were mine and I had an obligation in raising you.  I had no help from anyone.  But I did stay at Colleens til I got the little house (’80).  I also squandered $25,000 on some son of a bitch paying his bills while his checks went to a pig he was married to.  And NO Milo never ever had anything to do with you.  He could not even communicate with you.  When you weren’t talking he never even tried.  You and I had our form of communication.  We moved to the 3rd house from Kasota in ’83 and to the 1st house in ’93.
That kinds of answers your questions in your letters.  Hope that is what you were looking for.  Maybe some day I can go in depth face to face with you.  Other people I caint tell you much about.  As a child growing up I was very shy and self-conscious, never said very much.  In the last 9 years I have learned to tell you where the bird at a snap of the fingers.  I do not really give a shit if it hurts your feelings or not.  DO NOT FUCK WITH ME is my attitude.  Good defense mechanism and it works.
The person above me is from Burley and she had a picture of Randy Nelson, Carl Lee’s brother.  He is a year older than me.  Randy has been in trouble all his life with drugs and alcohol.  He just got out of the pen in Sept.  He spent 11 years down.  She had a picture of him before he went in and a picture of him after he got out.  He looks like he is 90 years old.  It really blew me away.  That is what incarceration does to people.  Not only does it age you but it ruins your inner self.  For some reason they just do not see what they are doing to a human being.  I guess Carol Lee has cancer again and is as much as dead.
I wrote to Sherry Swiney who has that patrickcrusade website and asked her to please take everything off the website.  I am not sure but I think Franz has the manipulated trial website.  I have asked Franz several times to take everything off so I do not know why he has not.  I mailed Sherry’s letter last Sunday so she is just getting it probably.  Will you check in a couple of weeks and see if it is still there if so will you email her about getting it off?  Also check the other one and see if anything is there if so will you please email Franz and ask him to take it off.  Let me know if and when it is gone, OK.  I want it gone.
I got a letter in the mail box to Sal too.  She sent me a pamphlet about Richmond.  It blew me away.  It has pictures and tells about businesses.  I am not upon the address so some of them I can only guess where they might be.  I want to so bad go down there and see Sal and check the town out.  I am going back one way or another to get residency and get rid of my 1st name.  You do not know how bad I hate that name.  Then I want to go to Norwood, Wyoming and see what that town is like.  If I caint set myself up then I want to head north.  Paul I have made my mind up that I am not coming back to this shit hole.  That means my post conviction is going through.  I caint think any other way.
It is time for me to close this letter so I will sign off.  I just remembered Phillis was Donald’s 2nd wife and Lolane is his 3rd.  Do not know if you knew that or not.  Anyway, you two take care.  Mom
by

Passing of sand; Mr. E. E.

Today waiting for a stop light, I looked for a number in my cellular phone.  There I noticed a number for a friend who passed away a few months back.  I don’t know any reason to keep it anymore, so I deleted it.  The thought crossed my mind of another friend who had passed away and found his number.  I deleted it as well.  Again I find myself reflecting with the passing of another life.  There seems to have been a number of them lately.  Terry McCombs, David Donaldson, Justin Rose, and now Evan Elliott.
I learned of Evan’s death on Halloween.  Apparently he had a massive heart attack and died at home on the 24th.  There was a pang of guilt for having not written him back two weeks before when I had felt the prompting to do so.  I wrote some others I thought would be easier to write.  I guess I am absolved of the responsibility now.  His graveside service was just a few hours ago.
Once again, I reflect on the influence of another in my life with their passing.  The flood of memories come back.  This is a relationship I don’t know I will fully understand while in this life.
On my left knee, up a few inches and outwards is a scar I carry about an inch in length.  I still remember climbing over the industrial vacuum equipment and slicing it on the corner of duct sheet sitting there.  It was a deep cut and it bled nicely.  I didn’t have stitches but whenever I think of scars it is one of the two which first come to mind on my body.  I must have been only about 6.
I remember the morning I awoke with mom sitting on the bed.  It was downstairs at the old house along the freeway.  I was about 8.  Mom came to tell me that Grandma had found out about some things with Evan and that they would be getting a divorce.  I had no clue what that meant.  But he disappeared.  That is what divorce meant to me for several years.  The tone in which she told me was one of disappointment in Evan.  There were no harsh words of his character or personality which Mom would later spew about him.  I remember not understanding but feeling it would be okay because my Mother told me so.
I remember fishing many times with Evan as a young boy.  I don’t ever remember catching anything.  But it was fun to sit on the shore and fish.  I don’t even know that we ever really even talked.  The most common spots were fishing at the lake near Hwy 27/I84 and the lake near Hwy 30/I-84.  For all I know there are not even fish in those lakes.  I think they are man made.
It seemed a regular occasion we drove to the Paul Cemetery to maintain the long flower box seated on his parents grave.  I assume it is near the place where he and his wife Shirley are buried.  It was on those days I remember playing in the cemetery and enjoying the day.  I remember the day I stumbled on Wes Charles drunk next to a tombstone.  I knew him from Dad’s work and couldn’t understand why he was different.  I think that is the first time I realized people were different when they were drunk.  He was beside himself sobbing.  Evan explained to me that those stones were not just there for looks but were monuments to people who were buried beneath.  That was why Wes was upset, he presumably had family buried beneath.  I think this was my first introduction to understanding death.  Cemeteries horrified me afterward.  It wasn’t until my Great Grandmother’s funeral in 1987 that I saw a dead person and understood more of those people buried beneath the tombstones.  A large tombstone near the entrance of the Paul Cemetery became the image of my nightmares.  I have since made peace with death, but still the image of the large “Duff” tombstone seems to be the epitome of death for me.  It proclaimed the finality of death.  In later years learning the gospel and about the resurrection removed much of the nightmare, but it haunted me for a very long time.  I imagined in my mind the placing of a body into the ground and when nobody was around who remembered, as Evan regularly did, you were forever gone.  While Evan probably had no clue the effect of all this, he played a very real part of it.
There were many, many homes I went with Evan where he did sheetrock work.  Oddly, it is with Evan that I have my first memories of my Aunt Sergene.  We stopped at her and Bert’s place for something.
Growing up, Evan always seemed to be seated in the big leather chair in the family room at Grandma’s.  Somehow, I was oblivious, or he was just always good enough, that every time it seemed I passed the chair, usually at high speed, this arm would appear and scare the daylights out of me.  I guess he was just always in the chair enough that he became a part of the chair.  Perhaps it was such a rare thing he was in it that it scared me, I don’t know.  It was a good scare, not a bad scare.
Evan grew up in a home that was on the same property that Grandma’s house was.  I don’t remember the house standing, but I seem to remember the day it burned down.  The old barn out back of Grandma’s, the little tar paper shack, the hayrake were all part of what was once his childhood.  I felt a connection to it as he did.  I remember filling in what was left of the foundation years later and feeling the sadness of what passed with the house.  There was some debate that somebody burned it down, I don’t remember who was the one accused.  There were tombstones on the other side of the canal I remember Evan taking me to in the trees.  There was a tombstone there by the barn which would move around through the years.  I don’t know if they had anything to do with Evan’s ancestry, but he knew their location and felt enough to watch over them.
There were the occasional day when he would appear at our house along the freeway to visit.  Mother did not make him welcome from what I remember.  He longed to see us.  I always felt he favored “Sissy” over me but that was okay.  I knew he loved us.
I always remember keeping him at a distance.  I remember seeing Grandma crying a few times and she would tell me how much she felt betrayed and hurt by Evan.  Add that to Mom’s sharp denouncements and I locked my heart to him.  I remember one time seeing him at the house along the freeway and nobody was there but Andra and me.  We went up to him and Andra hugged him but I refused.  I remember the tears he shed that day.  I do not know if he understood what was in my heart and thoughts that day.  I have never been able to overcome that emotional block.  I do remember he came to visit less and less over the years.  Christmas and birthday cards were about all that remained.  He remarried about two years later to his highschool sweetheart.
Due to the nature of him leaving our lives I always called him Mr. E. E. in the present of Grandma and other family members.  Mother had other choice words.  I don’t remember Grandma being harsh on his memory, just more disappointed.
My next memory has him at my missionary farewell.  He came for all of the church service and gave me a monetary gift and said he was not staying to not cause concern with Grandma and the rest of my family.  I do not know if he stayed for the farewell or not.  I tend to think he did.  I do know he was there at my missionary homecoming two years later.  Grandma had passed away and he sat in the overflow section.  He lingered after the homecoming crowd of well wishers had dispersed and I walked him to his Buick in the north parking lot.  He had a cane at the time.  We visited for a moment and he shed some tears then.  He told me my Grandmother would be proud.  I don’t remember holding ill will, but a bit annoyed that he came to the homecoming.
Since that time we have kept in contact via mail.  We responded through letters several times a year until the past year it has increased in number.  Mostly because he collected spoons and I was a traveling maniac with Amanda.  We purchased spoons for him in nearly all the places we would go and would send them to him.  He repaid us for all of them.  I don’t know I would have done it just out of the kindness of my heart or at least so many.
Some time in 2004 Evan called me and told me he was heading to Salt Lake to a doctors appointment.  He knew I was spraying lawns for Larry and wanted to know if he swung through Cache Valley if we could do lunch.  I wasn’t particularly interested but was nice and agreed.  We ate lunch at a little Mexican Restaurant in Smithfield.  It was good food and we discussed just the lighter topics.  Nothing of too much interest other than the fact he brought me an envelope of pictures.  I had been mining him for information about Grandma and the family.  He had not been very forthcoming until this day.  I finally quit asking him about Grandma and asked him about him.  He brought photos and I took them and scanned them all for him.  He had very few pictures of him and Grandma, at least that he shared.  You will notice that I have added the Elliott Family Album to my pictures with Evan’s passing.  These are the photos that had only to do with him I kept copies of.
He did finally disclose information on how he met Grandma, some of their courtship, their leaving each other, and their activity in the church.  Some of which comments I believe I have even posted here on the blog.
In reflecting upon his death I have a variety of feelings.  I still feel a sense of betrayal and emotional blockade.  A distancing I maintain for reasons I do not understand nor would I know how to dismantle them.  There is also a pity or sadness I feel.  Evan always seemed like such a lonely soul.  I don’t believe he was depressed or anything like those types of feelings.  He was married three times I know of.  The first two ended in divorce.  The third one was his highschool sweetheart for which he had pictures of from that time.  He had no children.  Even in his death, it was a time before someone found him after his death.  In looking back I see a man longing for belonging and love and I feel some guilt for offering none more than friendship.  He loved us as his own children, he told us that many times.  I feel a sense of release in a commitment that seemed to be a burden.  I have no ill feelings for him and want to weep that I feel a release in his passing.  This doesn’t seem my nature to harbour what appears to be some malice or bondage to another.  I do not understand the array of feelings I feel with Evan’s death or in reflecting on what I know of his life.  I am not sure I will ever truly understand in this life.  I am saddened by his death though and that the relationship we have has been growing and increasing incrementally over the years since the mission.  Perhaps it is the loss of what could have been in the healing of our relationship.  That is certainly a brighter light to look at the scenario, the disappointment of my wanting to mend the broken bridges of the past.
Regardless, I have taken an inventory of my life to a degree.  Are there other people who I can do more in extending love and fellowship to?  Is this a tragedy?  Was he really lonely or my imposed desire for him to be lonely from the betrayal I felt of him in hurting Grandma?  He mentioned his fighting in Korea and how he still often thought of it.  What happened?  Does that explain some of the rest of his life?  I will not know in this life.
Who met him on the other side of the veil?  Has Grandma and him at any point met to bring any more reconciliation they did not find in mortality?  I sense tragedy in the life of Evan’s parents.  Were they present and are they all finding their ‘rest’ from mortal cares?  Tragedy seems somehow to be the word to describe Evan’s life to me.  Tragedy to me or to him?
As I survey the world around me I think how time marches on.  Each and every sand grain falls through the constricted glass.  Each is numbered and recognized in their place even though not every grain is noticed.  How much are our lives the same?  Some more recognized than others.  But each has our part, whether large or small.  “I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me.”
by

Monday, Monday

I remember a time with my Mission President, President Stucki gave a talk on constant perfection.  He made a comment that if we ever felt like we were comfortable, like we had things figured out, like we could sit back and relax it was a great sign we needed to rise up and repent.  Life is a process of constant repentance through improvement and progression.  Somehow I have really taken the counsel to heart and don’t like to feel comfortable.  There is always more to do, someone else’s life to bless, some work needing to be done.
My weeks of late have been filled with a whole host of events.  Tuesday nights finds me at the Family History Library.  I have been spending about a week an evening out with the missionaries.  The Home Teaching list with 6 families requires diligent effort, coordinating with the schedule of my 14 year old companion, and hoping some of them might come around.  There are two widows in the ward whose family history I am inputting on the computer and preparing for temple work.  That requires constant updating and exchanging of information ever week at church.  Preparing and teaching the Family History Class on Sunday.  I go visiting with President Hahn usually about once a week for the Elder’s Quorum Presidency.  Last week I gave a talk in church on Family History.  Tomorrow and Saturday we are preparing chili for the ward and work chili cook-off.  Creating a couple gallons of white chili takes hours in itself.  Chopping up those four huge onions kept my eyes watering for several hours.  A black tie event tomorrow night, costume party Saturday night, Squash on Monday nights.  I don’t feel like I have much time lately.  But I feel very fulfilled with my life at the moment.  I hope someday my life will be remembered like that of President Kimball (whose biography I finished earlier this month) where his life was like an old shoe, worn out in the service of others.
Amanda and I attended a wedding last Saturday and because the weeks have been so busy we had to run to the temple afterwards and come back that same evening.  The week before Amanda spent the whole weekend in Grundy.  The week before was General Conference, which was fantastic I might add.
Work has continually picked up and I am feeling like I have a pretty good grasp on the work and what is required.  I think I may have actually gone a day or two where I did not have to ask a question of a co-worker.  Then today the bombshell came.  Bank of America is doing away with the entire Wholesale Channel.  December 31st will be the last day of Wholesale’s existence.  Meaning, I am without employment January 1st.  Sure, I get a month’s pay for severance.  But hey, I just got hired on!  I started as an official Bank of America employee on October first after four months as a contractor.  Now on January 1st, I am starting over.  Geez, I will have spent more time as a contractor at Bank of America than as an actual associate.  What does the employment world hold for me next?  Will I find another position in Bank of America?  Will I stay in the mortgage industry?  Where will I work for the remaining 6 months I am in Richmond, Virginia?  At any rate, I have the next three months to find a new job.  (Two months at Bank of America, one month’s severance).  My Monday at work was just about to close since I had gone through the rough tumble of learning the in and out of a new job.  Now I get to start all over!
We have decided to take a trip to Europe in June of next year.  We are thinking of spending 3 weeks in Britain and 3 weeks in Northwestern Europe.  We would probably spend 2 weeks in the old mission visiting and staying with people, another week touring parts of Britain, then three weeks with Belgium as our home base.  Our friends James and Catherine Cazier have invited us over and we will probably crash with them at their home in Belgium.  So much of northwestern Europe is within a few hours of there.  I hope to quell Amanda’s desire to live in Paris and we both hope to see much of the storied lands.  I think we will have to skip Germany this time around since there are so many places I would like to personally visit for family history purposes (not for research, just to visit).  Amanda’s goal is to earn the money to pay for the tickets to Europe and then I will pay for the rest.  However, we will have to see how the trip looks as we get closer.  Hopefully we won’t miss a beat in preparing to meet our bills while away on vacation for 6 weeks and pay for the trip itself and then the move to wherever we will move for Law School.  So much depends on my finding a good, new job.  Hopefully not at a lower salary than the one I was earning with Bank of America.
For those who asked if I am still thinking about attending law school in England, the answer is no.  I had an answer to prayer that made it plainly manifest I was not to attend law school in England.  Despite the heartbreak it brought, there was a certain relief at not having to try and figure out the ramifications of attempting to do so.  We also found out that Amanda would find it virtually impossible to work in the UK as a hygienist.  Basically the UK now says no to any hygienist unless they are a EU citizen.  To qualify she would basically have to take half of her schooling over again and the cost would be too prohibitive.  One would think that a country where citizens pull their own teeth for a lack of dentists would openly welcome hygienists and dentists to immigrate.  Classic socialistic medicine at work!
Well, time to shut down.  I have to get up in the morning for a company that doesn’t want me anymore.  There is incentive to do a good job!  Talk about moral hazard temptations abounding all over the place.  Why should I care if I do a good job since there will certainly be no rewards.  What are they going to do?  Fire me.  Wait, they already are.  My incentive is not to care so much since job performance means nothing.  Who cares about customer satisfaction?  It will be a tough walk for all those involved.  Should I take my sick days while I can, even though I am not sick?  What about those paid vacation days I have accrued, use them all, now?  How much time should I dedicate to finding a new job?  It will be a temptation minefield to remain integrity, honesty, and dedication to the company who feels in most senses to have turned against us.  To remain proactive and pushing forward where there are very few incentives will be difficult.
What does the future hold now?  I haven’t had much time to relax and think I am content lately.  The next few months will probably hold even fewer.  The table now has to include job hunting.  I haven’t even completed writing the personal statement and applying to law school (which has some large costs as well, although Amanda tells me I can’t apply to California schools now).
by

Runcorn Burning

I received the news today the ward building in Runcorn, Cheshire burned down on Saturday.  It gave me an opportunity to reflect some on my experiences in good ole Runcorn and the building which is now no more.  I do remember hearing they were going to start adding on a new addition for the building.  However, I do not know if they had started yet or if that had any part to do with the fire.  Perhaps somebody thought if they burned it down, they would get a whole new building.  Hopefully the church isn’t as slow in rebuilding this building as I know they have been in replacing other buildings.
I remember seeing pictures of the Runcorn Building being built.  There were pictures of John Byrom’s mother on the roof of the building when it was being shingled.  I can see other good Saints helping in the construction of their building.  I remember hearing the stories of John and Audrey McKee in helping build the Birkenhead Ward Chapel.  They still had the saw that he used to cut a pipe down in a hole one day.  He asked if the power was turned off and assured several times it was.  The saw proved that it had not been.  He had shared stories about helping build other buildings, the Chester and Runcorn Chapels included.  Even though he lived in Wallasey he traveled to help.  That is the way I guess they did it.  I can see the pictures of Ray Holmes and some of his family helping on a building, I am not sure if it was the Runcorn Building though.  I tend to believe it was.
In another month or so it will be 8 years since I was transferred to Runcorn.  It was there I was assigned to be Elder Hales’ companion.  I had only met the boy a half year before at Pizza Hut in Stretford on Preparation Day.  He was a new missionary and I would see him a couple of months before one of us was transferred elsewhere.  I arrived at 29 Handforth Lane early one morning.  Brother Wood (Rob or Bob, cannot remember) had driven me from Eccles to Runcorn.  We became terribly lost on the meandering roads of Runcorn.  At one point we found ourselves illegally on the busway.  We finally pulled into the flat to find John Pass there with his father, Doug, to welcome me.  They actually were cleaning up some of the front and fixing the shower downstairs.  It had been having some problems.  I remember embracing Brother Wood and the expression on his face.  I too had really come to love Eccles and was not looking forward to leaving.
I entered which definitely had to be one of the largest flats in the mission.  Three floors and it was all to ourselves.  Just weeks before the missionaries for Northwich had lived there.  That P-day Brad and I cleaned up the apartment.  We stacked mattresses upon mattresses in the 3rd flood bedroom.  I remember being astonished there was a weight room on the 3rd floor.
That evening Elder Hales took me to visit the Bennett’s and the Byrom’s.  The Bennett Family was less active.  We sat there visiting with them and that was the first time I ever heard or saw Britney Spears.  She was in a music video singing her One More Time song.  Of course the family had to stop all conversation and turn it up.  We watched.  After that, we excused ourselves and walked to the Byroms.  There we met the whole family and their friend Simone Keogh.  It would begin a relationship that continues even until today.
I am going completely from memory so I may be slightly off in some of the details, but I believe I am correct.  But Runcorn proved to be one of what I felt was my most productive areas.  Elder Hales and I struggled sloshing through the rest of 1999.  One day in the kitchen of 29 Handforth Lane we had a disagreement that would change our relationship.  Our impromptu Companionship Inventory would change the rest of our missions.  Through the week that followed we adapted to each other and our unity increased.  The Lord visibly blessed us in a myriad of ways.  The remainder of Elder Hales’ time and my own in Runcorn saw success regularly afterward.  Our teaching pool became full, we saw lives change, and baptisms started occuring every week.  They were not always ours, but they were the district’s.
Every week we would have our District Development Meeting in the Runcorn Chapel.  The Elder’s from Chester, Northwich, and the Sister’s would join us.  Every week the baptisms were held at the Runcorn Chapel.  It was only a few weeks later the Northwich Branch was created and split from Runcorn.  It was a very exciting time.  We had whole families who were starting to come out.  The chapel was becoming fuller and fuller despite the loss of Northwich.  The whole energy was powerful.  We were very fortunate to be there then.
It was from those friendships there so many other experiences have come.  I would never have entertained Elder Haight or met Elder Ballard if it were not for Runcorn.  My Mission President and I bonded during this time.  I still count Brad Hales as one of my closest friends today.
I remember watching from the weight room in the Handforth Flat the fireworks for Y2K.  We had the perfect view overlooking the valley between us and Frodsham, Helsby, and towards Ellsmere Port.  The fireworks were phenomenal.  In the next room was the bathtub we had shined and filled with water for preparation just in case something should go wrong and we should have no water.  We had a score of water saved there for the drinking or for the toilet right there if need be.
Just across the tracks was the home of the Stake Patriarch, Tony and Norma Johnson.  We spent many an evening on their doorstep or in their dining room.  They were very good to us on a regular occasion.  If it wasn’t for Patriarch Johnson I would not have met Elder Brough and years later be asked if he knew me at a Stake Conference in Logan, Utah.  I remember accidentally fluffing it one evening after dinner to the horror of the Johnson grandchildren.  However, Norma was very civilized and all went on as if had never happened.  It was only a squeek but enough for the kids to smirk.  I am grateful for those who understand our slip ups and keep moving on with life.
I remember many evenings sitting there while Elder Hales made phone calls and I planned for the next day.  I admire how humble he was for making the phone calls because I so much disliked it.  Every evening after the calls he would collapse in bed irritated by the Sisters and annoyed that I harrassed him about being on time for prayers.  He was a humble man and I can only hope all the lessons I learned are retained and applied.
I don’t remember how often, but it was that flat we would arise at 5:30 AM to go running.  We would run and both would be exhausted by the time we got back.  It was then to shower and get ready for the day.  I really enjoyed our scripture study.  Is it any wonder that all the future times we were roommates we carried on that tradition.  Together we finished the entire Standard Works in 2003.  That was a goal we made together and achieved.
Anyhow, Runcorn holds many fond memories.  Elder Hansen who now lives in Richmond, Virginia and whose wife Amanda worked with this summer, that association was started in Runcorn.  Sister Peterson in Oakley started association in Runcorn.  President Wightman called me in Runcorn as he became lost going the wrong way on a busway.
It was on the porch of the Runcorn building I played with the Fullwood girls.  It was in the choir seats of Runcorn I refused to make a hip beat of a hymn.  It was in Runcorn I did a solo in the Easter Cantata.  I think it is sure to say, the Runcorn Ward and Chapel will forever be remembered as a great increasing point for the fire which burns in my bones.
I have heard in recent years the Runcorn Ward has diminished in activity.  There appears to have been a great deal of tumult in the ward.  Even the Byrom Family, who I would never have thought to separate, has been split asunder.  A former Bishop went Apostate and now the building has burned down.
One thing is for sure.  It can only go up from here.  I wish I was in Runcorn now to be a part of the rebuilding.
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Washington Duncan’s

Finally, a brick wall fell down.  As some of you may remember, earlier this year I got a lead through the papers of Howard Ross regarding Beulah Ross.  He had a letter from Donna Beachell Perry in 1972 or so with an address for Beulah.  She said she wrote to her.  That finally gave me a location to pinpoint Beulah.  I then called every Duncan in the phone book within 20 miles of Zillah.  I don’t remember who I did finally get that gave me the phone number for Carol Stone in Sunnyside.  I phone her, got her e-mail, wrote to her and got one forward that had nothing to do with anything.  I have tried e-mailing several more times with no success of a response.
So I took matters into my own hands.  I wrote the Washington Secretary of State.  I actually went through his office with the Ask a Librarian program and sent off a request for any information in the archives for William Duncan or Beulah Duncan’s information.  Well, a month later, I received a pdf file with the obituaries and death notice for William and Beulah.  Her obituary gives some great leads into where to search next for some more possible clues about her family.
I already had her marriage to William in 1922.  But could never find more evidence of them in the Burley, Idaho area.  Now I think my next hunt will be to find their lives in Bend.  I looked up the records for Zillah City Cemetery and much of it is online.  However, they don’t give much more than dates for birth and death.
Anyhow, here are the records for William and Beulah.  Now I can hope I can be so fortunate to find something else on any of her siblings.

Beulah E Duncan Marshall
Valley Hills Funeral Home
Toppenish – Beulah E Marshall, 93, of Toppenish passed away on Tuesday, March 5, 2002.
She was born March 6, 1908 in Grundy, West Virginia to Robert and Minnie (Hambrick) Ross. She spent her early years in Utah and Idaho. From 1923-1931 she lived in Bend, Oregon and 1931-1942 she lived in Ellensburg. Beulah has lived in the Yakima Valley, Buena area, since 1942.
Beulah worked at Cal Pak seed pea operation from 1943 to 1955. She also worked as a fruit sorter and for 11 years at the Mother Goose Cafe in Zillah. She liked to work in her yard and keep it looking neat. She loved music and dancing and encouraged her sons to play music like their Dad.
Beulah is survived by a son, Jack Duncan of Mabton; 24 grandchildren; and 10 great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her parents; husbands, William J Duncan and Kenneth Marshall; three sons, Robert L Duncan, Harold E Duncan, and Ernest J Duncan, one brother and three sisters.
Funeral services will be held at Zillah Chapel of Valley Hills Funeral Home on Friday, March 8, 2002 at 10:00 a.m. Concluding services will follow at the Zillah City Cemetery.
Valley Hills Funeral Home in Zillah is in charge of arrangements.

William J Duncan
Colonial Funeral Home
Zillah – William J Duncan, 75, of 1109 Maple Way, died Monday in Sunnyside General Hospital, Sunnyside.
Born at Clinton, Ark., he had lived in the Zillah area since 1942.
Survivors include his wife, Beulah; three sons, Ernest and Robert, both of Sunnyside, and Jackie of Toppenish; three brothers, Tolly Duncan of Toppenish, Felix Duncan of Buena and Donald Duncan of Penndale, Penn.; one sister, Myrtle Marshall of Lexington, Ore.; 14 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren. Another son, Harold, died in 1973.
Duncan – Funeral services for William J Duncan, 75, or 1109 Maple Way, who passed away Monday, July 11 in Sunnyside General Hospital, will be held on Wednesday, Jul 13, at 2 p.m. in the COLONIAL FUNERAL HOME CHAPEL., Toppenish. The Rev. Stanley White will officiate. Burial will be at the Zillah Cemetery. Mr. Duncan was born in Clinton, Arkansas on September 26, 1901. He had lived in the Zillah area since 1942, moving there from Ellensburg. He and his wife, Beulah, were married on Sept. 20, 1922 in Burley, Idaho. Besides his wife, he is survived by three sons, Ernest J Duncan and Robert L Duncan, both of Sunnyside and Jackie A Duncan of Toppenish. He was predeceased by one son, Harold in 1973; three brothers, Tolly Duncan of Toppenish, Felix Cantrel Duncan of Buena and Donald Duncan of Penndale, Penn, one sister, Myrtle Marshall of Lexington, Ore: 14 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren.

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Death’s March

As is usually the case, death has come knocking again.  He makes his rounds constantly through the world.  Sometimes with almost greedy insistence on a few individuals and others he spares for what seems a lifetime more.  Interestingly, some view it as a favor and a blessing while others view it as horror and devastation.  He undoubtedly works in both ways as we see manifest all around us.
My paternal Grandmother’s brother, David William Donaldson, passed away on Sunday.  After what seems like a relatively short struggle with prostate cancer, he spent his last weeks in pain and hiding.  It doesn’t sound like too many visitors.  At least more angelic than earthly.  His funeral falls tomorrow and with his age nearing 78 it doesn’t ring in as a great surprise.  The longer one lives the more inevitable it comes that we will pass beyond the veil.  As my Uncle Larry Andra has told at every funeral I have heard him speak, it is like a great ship leaving harbour.  Those standing in the harbour sob and cry and the ships disappears and it is shouted, “there she goes”.  On the other hand, as the ship comes in the shout is raised, “there she comes” and all is merry and joyful.  We witness this in life and we witness the other side at death.  We celebrate the ship coming in at birth and mourn her leaving.  Really we only count ourselves blessed if we are not there for both of the same person.
Tonight was the funeral of another friend, Justin Levi Rose.  I don’t know his age, but he must have only been about 25.  I only met him two months ago when he come to visit the Family History Library where I work on Tuesday nights.  A recent convert, he was putting together his family history to go to the temple and do baptisms for the dead.  Over the course of several weeks we pieced together several significant portions of his family and he went to the temple with 50 or more family members to do their temple work.  I found out tonight he sailed away last Tuesday of his own accord.
Therein is another interesting part of death.  Some we see it coming and almost expect it.  Others it seems to take completely by surprise.  Yet to those to whom it comes, it seems to sometimes be the opposite.   Uncle Dave just had a new knee and when I visited with him in April seemed like he had a new lease on life.  I don’t think he anticipated death anytime soon just 6 months ago.  Yet I find out that Justin has been living in a state of which they call bi-polar in which he has struggled with wanting death for some time.  Yet in my eyes, I would never have thought either of them were near and certainly not Justin.
One never knows.  In the deepest chambers of the soul we only can understand our path, our destiny, our lives, and our deaths.  Some seem to understand themselves, others ignore.  Others misinterpret, and others walk a path of full knowledge all their days.  Most interestingly, it seems no mortal really knows what battles are being fought in our lives.  Whether they be in the mind or the body they are being fought.  Some lose now, some lose later.  All will die.
The only ray of hope in all this is that we are only in a temporary state.  Death for all is only temporary.  More importantly, the struggles in our souls are also only temporary.  The day will come when all will know as they are known and see as they are seen.  Then will we all rejoice in this great probationary game.  There will of course be some sorrow, but the overwhelming feeling will be one of joy and praise.
Until then, the ships keep coming and going and we watch with sadness and delight.
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More of the same; Life

Time keeps ticking by too quickly sometimes.  I have so much to write but not as much time as I would like to do it in.  Such is the limitations in the probationary game.  There are plenty of achievements to report though in the past week or two.
This evening I spoke with Gerald Neuffer in Columbia, Missouri.  In a most random turn of events, I noticed that a Jenna Neuffer became friends with my friend, Kami Lowe on Facebook.  With a name as rare as Neuffer, I knew all odds were in my favor of having a near shared ancestry.  I sent Miss Neuffer a message and asked for her Grandfather’s name and phone number.  Which she supplied.  Come to find out, I even had Gerald already in my family history.  I just had his first name Myron (Gerald is his middle name but he goes by it.  Probably due to remove confusion with his father’s name being Myron).  He knew the Andra’s well and said he remembered Millie, who was just younger than him.  Funny how small a world it is.  He went to get his PhD and never left Columbia after moving there in 1947.  We conversed for a little while he dug for information verifying I was not this total stranger calling for his family history for some other sinister reason.  He sounds like a good guy.  He asked if I was doing genealogy.  I confirmed I was and that I was the family historian.  He then happily related he was basically that for the Neuffer/Nuffer family.  I was definitely glad to hear that.  What is the chances of the Andra historian running into the Nuffer historian in Columbia Missouri?  Very far removed from Preston, Idaho!
I received a phone call from Jacqui yesterday about the Phibbs/Ross/Beachell family.  I tried returning her call and spoke with her mother for a few minutes.  I am glad she finally returned my message.  I only left it in May!  That was before we moved!
In other news, there was an e-mail that found its way to me from Robert in Fresno, California.  A most interesting question.  He asked if I knew of any of the siblings of my Constance Jorgensen.  I always felt Constance most likely had siblings but was never able to find any.  Between her parents marriage and Constance’s birth, there is twelve years.  I was sure there were other siblings.  Olavus and Hanna Mathea Jorgensen immigrated with Constance and settled in Richmond, Utah.  Constance married Ole Christiansen and gave birth to my Great Great Grandmother Martha Christiansen who is the mother of my Lillian Coley.  Constance died in Portland, Oregon while visiting and was buried there.  In the whole episode, I knew some day I would have to do some research in Norway to find the rest of this family.  Well, Robert e-mailed me asking me if his grandmother, Amanda Jorgensen Swensen could be a child of Olavus and Hanna.  He produced a copy of a hand written copy pedigree she had produced in 1935.  Sure enough, everything lined up.  Well, Amanda was born another 12 years after my Constance (24 after the marriage of the parents).  She immigrated to Utah a good 10 years after her parents and sibling came over and settled in Logan, Utah.  By the time she arrived her parents were both deceased and her sister had married.  It seems that she never knew she was only 15 miles from her parent’s graves and her sister.  The exciting news is that Amanda gave us the names of her siblings, none of which made it to America to her knowledge.  We added the 5 siblings.  Don’t know their ages, but definitely gives some more to go from.  That will give us much more to go from when the time for the Norway research begins.
I am happy to report I completed the New Testament this evening.  I am one day late.  If I had read the one chapter a day, I would have finished yesterday.  Last weekend put me just off enough that I did not catch up in time.  I completed the Book of Mormon on schedule this year on August 27th.  Now I can go through some General Conference talks and some other reading for the year.  Next year is the Doctrine and Covenants which you can almost read three times in a year.  I think I will just do it twice though.
The ward continues to blossom when it comes to family history.  It seems like people are doing their homework, research, and compiling regularly.  I have e-mails at least once or twice a week for help on something.  That is an indication something is going on.  That is definitely something which is a good thing.
Online the family history work continues to reveal new and interesting things.  I received an e-mail from a Homer Mason.  He was inquiring concerning the Jonas family in Washington State.  Come to find out, Anna Jonas is his Grandmother.  Anna was the daughter of William Jonas who was the brother to my Joseph Jonas; father to my great grandfather Joseph Nelson Jonas.  He knows very little so it has been fun introducing him to the family.  I have especially enjoyed his research on a line of the family I have not been able to crack.  It has proved not to be an easy line for him, but with his living in Yakima, he is much closer and capable of doing the work than I can.  I really hope I am accepted to the University of Idaho for Law School.  Then I could work on the Jonas, Ross, and Sharp lines in Washington State.
Stepping back to the Andra family.  This past weekend Amanda and I took a trip to Washington DC for our monthly temple visit.  But a new aspect as emerged.  My Great Uncle and Aunt, Donald and Lolane Andra, are now serving a mission in the temple.  We went up Friday night and stayed with Amanda’s Uncle and Aunt in Springfield.  Saturday we picked up Don and Lolane and made our way to Mt. Vernon.  They thoroughly enjoyed themselves.  It was the 18th Century Fair so there were masses of people.  Don and Lolane are good and quick on their feet.  Despite being in their 60’s they move well.  Don reminds me so much of my Great Grandpa.  I get a kick out of both of them.  We were limited on time as they had to be to the temple to work later in the afternoon.  We did probably the fastest walking tour of Mt. Vernon I can imagine.  We zoomed all over the grounds, through the fair, and then back up to their apartment to change and attend the temple.
On a side note, as I went into the endowment room, I noticed the officiator’s name was John Whatcott.  I looked at him and asked if he was from Kanosh.  He looked a bit surprised at me and said he grew up there.  I told him of the Whatcott’s I knew.  After the session he asked me to remain in the celestial room so we could visit.  We had a great visit.  Come to find out he knows Don and Lolane from St. George.  Small world.  Don knew which session we were on and waited for us to leave the celestial room.  He walked us down to the next floor and we parted again.  I met Don’s Home Teaching companion, Elder Toronto, while picking up Amanda’s Aunt’s glasses from the temple lost and found.  Funny how interlinked the world is, at least in the church.
I have not made mention of it yet, but I am going from contractor status to full associate status at Bank of America.  Meaning, I will be an employee of Bank of America and not an at will person filling a seat.  Many companies now do the contractor business as they can then hire on employees after they have shown their worth.  I must have done well enough for them to offer me employment starting October 1.  I am excited.  Business has been picking up.  I don’t know if it is from the crunch in the market or what.  Bank of America definitely stands on higher ground than those feeling the squeeze or sinking under the housing market.  One thing is for sure, with this rate cut, we are expecting the next month to be hectic.
My birthday came and went just like every other day or the year.  I am back to being congratulated for it being my unbirthday.  I received all sorts of e-mails (which will take me a good week to respond to them all), many messages on Facebook, and a couple of cards and gifts.  Amanda and I enjoyed a nice big meal at Chili’s for dinner.  We joked about it being our triannual beef night.  It is birthdays or anniversary that I get to eat a steak.  Monday was a 12 oz Ribeye.  Mmmm, so good.  That is of course not mentioning the Idaho potatos.  Amanda got me a shirt, a jump drive, and something else which slips me at the moment.  I also received a journal, a few checks, and some other random memorabilia.  I honestly don’t feel any different now than I think I did when I was 19.  Except the fact my knee was reconstructed in 2004 and doesn’t give me the issues it did at 19.  So I guess I feel better than at 19.  I have filled out in stature, even added a little padding in the middle,  and perhaps a little wiser.  Life is good.
My blessings continue to flow despite my inept nature.  I continue to be given the little peaceable things of the kingdom from time to time.  They make the living and endurance all worth it.  Line upon line right?  Sometimes I wish it was more page upon page, but alas, I am not the one running the show.  Church goes well.  I feel spiritually well.  Not the muscular behemoth I would like to be spiritually, but I feel strong enough to do what needs to be done and any forseeable adventure.
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Idaho’s Craig

It seems I keep getting this bombardment of what I think about Senator Craig.  Well, here we go.
I have no quarrels with the man.  He wasn’t always the nicest man in the hallway when passing.  Then again, I don’t think I have met a Senator yet who really went out of their way to say hello.  That is the extent of my personal experience with him.  I think I said hello twice passing in the underground tunnels between the Dirksen and Russell Buildings.
Beyond that, here is my take on the scenario.  Idaho seems to like him and have always done so.  He met their needs and I think he enjoyed his role as Senator.
However, the little ordeal in Minneapolis is something that was quite foolish.  Having been in stupid positions before, I know all the little ways you try and weasel out of it.  Which it surely sounds like he did.  I am not so much concerned what happened in that stall, whether he was soliciting or not, but he played the weasel in trying to get out of it.  For the most part, he was successful.  They only charged him for disorderly conduct.  It would be hard to catch him on more unless he allowed the police officer to actually climb in his stall or he climbed in the other one.  Then I would say we have serious grounds for what his intentions were.  Picking up toilet paper, a piece of paper, with whatever hand, or just waving a nice hello to the person in the stall next to him doesn’t really matter.  To me they don’t prove anything lewd or a great breaking of the law.  Now if there was a mirror in his hand, there are some issues…
It does bother me that police don’t have something better to do than sit in a bathroom stall to find those who want to enjoy some time with another man.  On the other hand, I am disappointed that people actually do this enough that it is a public disturbance that the police have to be called in to do this.  At any rate, it is a bad note of commentary of the society that use the restrooms at Minneapolis.  I expect this is a wider problem than just the cold and snow of Minnesota.
Alright, the Senator got caught with his hand in another stall.  For what reason, I don’t think I or Idahoans generally care.  The lying or trying to back peddle out of it, that seems just human nature to a large degree.  I can even see pleading guilty to the charge to just be done with it.  How many of us could really fight that speeding ticket they say we were going 11 over when we are pretty sure it wasn’t more than 8?  But we pay it just to be over and done with it.  That seems like what has happened here.  Okay, I am fine with that.
I am somewhat concerned that a US Senator would be allegedly caught doing something like that.  I think his electorate might even think twice before reelecting him.  But what concerns me is that a Senator seems to be so thoughtless in his actions.  For his being not very nice in the hallway of the Russell Building, he sure seemed pretty nice to say hi to the person in the stall next to him.  That was not thinking.  Next, he should have made it public knowledge and just been done with it.  It is a petty situation but not reporting it to those who care about it made it stink.
But the thing that alarms me is that he isn’t willing to fight.  For a man who sits in Senator William Edgar Borah’s seat and perhaps even behind his very desk, he seems shameful.  The Lion of Idaho would be ashamed a man would falter and not raise his mighty fist to the party.  What comes first?  Idaho or Republicans?  Senator Borah was known for standing for principle, for his state, and not ever being dictated to by the party.  This man seems to be weak and willing to forfeit what he was elected to in Idaho for what the party thinks elsewhere.  I still don’t hear many people calling for his resignation in Idaho.  It is elsewhere, some of his own selfish companions in the Senate.  What happened to principle?  What happened to standing up for something?  What happened to honor and integrity.  Well, we don’t really know what happened in that stall.  Whatever it was, I hope his honour and integrity is still intact.  But sadly, it doesn’t appear to be.
A straight man doing actions confused with being gay?  A Senator claimed to be doing something in a bathroom stall?  A State Representative faltering to a Party?  If he is a good man, he will stand up and serve the remainder of his term, regardless of who calls for his resignation.  He has nothing against him which disqualifies him from finishing his term.  A Misdemeanor does not remove a Senator from office.  Even an Ethics Committee wouldn’t remove him for that.  If he serves Idaho, he will remain.  If he serves the party, he will leave.  If such is the case, good riddance.  Let’s find us another man to honorably fill Senator Borah’s shoes.