Richmond

by

Mother’s Finger

Well, in my attempt to record some family history stories, I find it is easier to type up.  Since this is a form of extra to the journal that I print off to supplement, it will find its way in from here.  This is a letter from my mother in relation to how she lost her finger.   Ironically, I am recording this on her 52 birthday, which is today.
This starts about half way through the letter….
The first of this story takes place the summer of 1957, a little over 48 years ago, but I remember like it happened yesterday.  I had turned 3 yrs old in March of that year.  It was a beautiful summer day and I was out back of our house playing in the sandpile in the shade of the tree next to it.  My dad was mowing the lawn and mom was out back also.  My dad pulled the lawn mower by the back door to the garage and went over to pick up a rock that was on the lawn.  I had watched my dad clean the lawn stuck on the bottom of the mower before and watched him sharpen the blade.  Us kids had been told several times to stay away from the lawn mower.  I watched my dad put the lawn mower by the back door and walk away.  I jumped up and ran over to the mower.  I wanted to see the blade go around.  I figured I could run over and look while my dad walked away and then hurry and run back to the sandpile.  I stuck my hands under the mower to lift it up to look under but something happened and it scared the hell out of me.  I do not know if I let out a squeal or not but I jumped up and ran around the side of the house and to the back door.  I could just barely open the back if I stood up on my tippy toes and really stretched.  After the 3rd try or so I finally got the door open.  The door handle kept sliding out of my hand cause it was slick from red stuff and it was running down the white wooden screen door and then puddling at the bottom.  Once I got in I ran through the house to the bathroom.  I figured if I washed the red stuff away no one would know.  I had done something I was not supposed to do and if I could make it go away I would not get a beaten.  I was not big enough to reach the sink unless I stood on the toilet.  I was trying to wash the red stuff but I had to pee and was dancing on the toilet.  I dribbled in my pants.  I thought I better go pee cause I would get in trouble if I peed in my pants.  So I went and peed and got back on the toilet and finished washing away the red and cleaned up the bathroom.  I could not leave the bathroom a mess or I would get chewed out for that too.  Once everything was OK and in place and cleaned up I opened the bathroom door and went out.  My mom was in the kitchen sitting on the stool.  She wanted me to come to her and I did not want to.  I was afraid I was going to get a beaten.  Mom said “come here and let me see.”  I told her no that everything was ok.  Once again she said “come here and let me see.”  I had my left hand cupped over my right hand.  I went over to her and when I took my left hand away everything was still ok.  She asked me to open my right hand and when I did the tip of my ring finger fell over to the side.  It was just hanging by a piece of skin.  I was then taken over to Dr. Noble’s office.  I do not remember what he did.  I went back to him sometime later and he took the bandage off and the tip that had been sewn on was hard and dark.  I went to the Logan hospital and they fixed it up.  I do not remember what went on there, I just remember going there.  My mistake was washing it.  I washed the weep away.  There was a part of the root of the nail left about the diameter of my pencil led.  It was like a claw to me.  Everything snagged on it.  To this day I caint stand snaggy material.
The summer of 1962 between 1st and 2nd grades I was going to have the claw taken out and have the fatty tissue taken off.  Mom took me over to Dr. Gibbons office in Lewiston.  He did right there in in his office.  He put an elastic around my finger just above my middle knuckle so it would not bleed while he operated on it.  I watched him cut 2 bowed lines around the claw and cut the claw out.  Then he got all the fatty tissue scraped out and sewed my finger up.  He put a gauze pad on the top of my finger and cut the elastic that was around my finger.  From where I was at my hand was eye level and I could see that some of the elastic was still on my finger.  I told the doc and mom that the elastic was still there.  I did not want it in my bandage.  The doc and mom both told me no the elastic fell out cause there was pieces on the examining table.  But who listens to an eight yr old.
Days after the operation I was in the garage and I bumped the rake and when I went to catch it it hit my finger.  It hurt so bad I wanted to cry.  But I never cried.  I tried never to cry or let anyone see me anyway.  I learned at an early age not to cry.  I went in the house and told mom what had happened and she just figured it was supposed to be that way and she would not check it for me.  We had gone up High Creek on the weekend fishing.  I got my bandage wet and dirty and mom decided she better change it.  I was going to the docs next week.  When she took the bandage off my finger was black.  I got taken over to Dr. Gibbons office and he pulled pieces of the elastic out of my finger and it started oozing real thick black-red blood.  The dock did what he had to do and bandaged it back up.  When it healed they would go in and amputate the dead stuff.
Me being a hellion of course I terrorized the neighborhood kids.  I would take the bandage off and chase the kids around while they squealed and hollered.  It never bothered me cause it was my finger.  No one else had a finger cut off.  I was different.  It was fixed up as it is now more or less.  I have not had that 1/2 finger almost all my life.
This story reminds me of a dog we had.  He was a Brittany Spaniel named Freckles.  Dad wanted to dock his tail.  The vet Dr. Erekson put a fat green rubber band.  I knew what was going to happen being had experiences this myself.  The vet just said it would off.  But it did not.  It got all infected with green infection.  We took Freckles to the vet.  Freckles kept trying to bite the vet.  I knew how bad it hurt.  Dad held Freckles while the vet grabbed the tail and snapped in into.  Freckles peed all over dad and the vet.  I felt so bad for Freckles cause I knew what he was going through.  That is one of the most cruel and painful things you could ever do to any animal and I can verify it.
So Paul, there is the story of how I lost my finger.  It is too bad you do not know all the tears shed in writing it.  But you see there is something else in the story too.  No one has ever believed me so you see after 1/2 century I do not care any more right now what anyone believes.  I am not in too good a mood now after writing it.  My eyes are still leaking.
As a mother, I tried to raise your kids the best I could by myself.  You try to teach them everything you think they are going to need to be able to get by in life.  You also know that they are going to have to learn by experience.  You hope everything goes ok and is not too rough for them.  You love them with all your heart and hope they love you in return.  That does not always happen though.  Barriers are thrown up and it is your choice on what you do with those barriers.  You can let them stop you or you can figure out how to get by them.
All my life I have tried to please people so they would leave me alone.  People always want to change you and after time you do slowly change.  But you usually change for defense purposes to survive.  You get to the point where every day is survival.  You do what you have to do but only what is necessary.  The human species is a pathetic breed of animal.  You may not understand now or tomorrow but some day I hope you do.  Your head is not on straight right now.  All I can do is keep my fingers crossed.
You know where your mother is at and if you want her back then help her.  There is so much you do not know.  But remember one thing she loves you with all her heart or what she has left of her heart.  Stop tearing her guts out.  Stop the sarcasm, caller her a liar, cutting her down.  She caint take much more.  For once show her some decency and love.
….There is another paragraph, but it is not as revealing or telling as are the above.  I am glad she took the time to write of these things.  I wanted the story of her losing her finger.  It is fascinating how trauma brands memories into our minds.  There are a few details that do not add up with the story itself, but I am glad she took the time.
by

Hiroshima

Another crazy weekend.  However, I am proud to announce I received 8 hours of sleep on Sunday!  It was the first time in what must have been months.  I woke up with a hang over though from something.  Perhaps the body was not used to having so much rest.  Who knows.  Made my way down to Richmond again on Friday night.  I took Erika to Twin Falls this time, rather than dropping her at Jerome or Burley.  I stopped in Logan to pick up some books I ordered online.  The autobiography of Burton K Wheeler and Huey P Long, also a biography of Frank Church.  I am looking forward to reading them, although the one stenches of BO.
Amanda was able to come up and meet me in Logan so we went out for some World Famous Aggie Ice Cream.  The line proved that there were plenty of people desiring ice cream that late at night.  It must have been 9:30 and the place was crammed full of people.  Then to top it off, this lady stood and chatted with everyone at the cash register.  I had partially eaten my toffee crunch ice cream cone before she finally departed the store.  If somebody wants to get rich, they should invent an ice cream scoop that puts the ice cream clear to the bottom of the cone.  Unless of course, you like your cooled air inside the cone, slightly condensed with diary moisture.
Out to Richmond, moved in for the nocturnal visit, and spent some quality time together.  The Lundgreen’s had already gone to bed!  I had to get to bed early so that I could rise and be ready for Brad to arrive at 6:15 for work.  It seems I didn’t even fall to sleep the night went by so quickly and the alarm clock was off.  Up, breakfast, and off we go to Preston.  Sprayed lawns in Malad again.  A great day.  Visited St Johns, Pleasantview, and Malad in our spraying adventures.  This lady up on the hill had a cool horse drawn buggy in her garage.  We sat and visited with her about Grass Valley, California for a while.  It was pretty interesting.
Now, I have to tell one of the highlights of the day.  Lunch at the Dude Ranch Restaurant, Main Street, Malad, Idaho.  By the look of things, it looked a bit dingy and run down, but good friendly hospitality  Brad and I took our seat in a booth which was probably one of the originals from 1945.  Definitely enjoyed the old bottle bottom glass separating the booths, which seems to have faded since the 70’s.  We ordered a bacon cheese burger and I added a nice pineapple shake to my order.  I had to get my fruit somehow and didn’t think the potatoes in the fries counted other than as a vegetable!  They hand cut their fries.  I had a curly fry that when I picked it up must have stretched out over a foot in length!  Oh, they were delicious.  The burger, home made patty, with everything freshly cut was so good.  Oh yes, I have a new favorite in dining.  Too bad it is so far off of my normal routes of travel.  Eddies in Smithfield, Utah has some pretty darn good fries too!  Not to mention their Bar-b-Que.  Anyhow, Brad and I departed happy individuals from a good down home meal.  Sometimes I get so darn tired of the other foods.
Made our way back to Preston discussing the problems of the world.  Faith, diligence, and decision making in our lives.  We discussed politics, Supreme Court, Presidential Appointment, Idaho, Franklin County, Utah, and the role of law.  It was interesting.  We discussed other things, but due to my age, have now slipped from memory.
In Richmond, I completed my online class, visited with the family for a bit, and headed out for the Jonas family reunion in small Mantua, Utah.  Pulled in, drove around in circles at the Fish Haven Campground, and finally settled the car on a nice piece of grass.  Thought to myself, “Self, visit a few, catch up, get some e-mails, and get the heck out of dodge.”  Well, I appeared and various people came up and said hi and next thing I knew everyone was asking about Amanda and the rest of the year.  I never knew I was in the loop with the Jonas clan.  I thought I was descendant of a long dead brother whose family had fallen from the planet.  Trying to gain some information and knowledge of the family had been difficult in the past.  Now somehow, I was the center of attention and did not even come prepared.  Well, I went and located my car (it was not where I swear I had just parked it!) and pulled out my computer.  Sat down at the picnic table and started showing photos of the beloved Amanda.  After two pictures, I caught them all by surprise by moving it to the Jonas and Coley pictures.  Yep, had them then within my grasp.  They were chatting and talking about old times.  Laughing and identifying people in the pictures which I had given up hope on finding out who they were.  After a good half hour of changing the subject from me to the Jonas pictures, I opened Personal Ancestral File and started showing what I had.  They oohed and awed and started lining up to make sure I had the information correct, and gave me more.  Well, by the end of my 4 hour stint, I had gathered the contact information for 8 separate families, and loaded into PAF 6 entire new families!  I was pretty excited.  So over the next months, via e-mail, those names and families will be fleshed out with dates and places.  It turned out to be more productive than I though.  I had thought the Jonas family was not interested in their genealogy and I was a lone sentinel trying to amass information.  Alas, they are already lining up for me to put together a book and have it at the family reunion next year.  The best part, the bond increased amongst us and for once, I felt a part of the extended Jonas Clan.
The moment arrived when I had to depart from Mantua.  Off to Tremonton, I met Brad Hales again and we headed up to the Kasota home of the Ross’.  We crashed the night there and Sunday morning arose for our final leg to Nampa.  Brad was kind enough to prepare me a bowl of rolled oats.  I love rolled oats, don’t get me wrong, but the amount of so much I could not place any milk into my already oversized bowl was a bit much.  I felt like I had eaten too much afterwards.  The honey in it was really good though!  Hey, I lowered my cholesterol today!
We then made the trek to Nampa, and then Kuna, Idaho.  On the route, we discussed Brigham Young, being led and inspired of heaven, recognizing that guidance, and Oliver Cowdery.  Interspersed with our personal adventures, experiences, and stories.  It was interesting.
Nampa we arrived at the Hales Homestead and enjoyed some quality family time.  Really good Jello, and seared chicken too!  Then off to church for the baby blessing, of which I was even invited to stand in!  That was exciting.  No relation whatsoever, but I got to stand in for the baby blessing.  A very good testimony meeting, and then it was good bye.  Brad and siblings all headed back to Utah, and I headed to Parma.  Oh, I must comment, Brad’s sister, Amy agreed to go to Eastern Germany with me sometime to travel and do family history work.  I am excited!  Now just have to find that buried box of money…
Parma, Idaho was an experience finding.  I thought it was just one of the next towns from Nampa.  Nope.  A few miles to Caldwell, then to Notus, then to Parma.  It was like 30+ miles.  Oh well, it was a beautiful Sunday drive.  I was tempted just to go to Nyssa, Oregon too, but decided against it later.  I found Parma, and took a stroll around the Roswell and Parma cemeteries for the Ross Clan.  I don’t have a direct link to them, probably don’t but feel so compelled to assemble their family history.  Hopefully the future will reveal why.  I found 4 in Roswell, and 10 in Parma, including Charles Benjamin Ross.  That I was excited about.  Took a good drive around the area.  They must be raising something like grapes or something.  I have never seen the vines growing like that.  The Roswell Cemetery was surrounded by them.  There were also plenty of onion fields.  I swear I could smell spearmint too, but never got out to go into the fields to see if I could find a field of spearmint.  I also never realized Parma was the home of Parma farming implement.  Learn something new every day!
Headed back to Eagle, and crashed for the rest of the afternoon.  Did some catching up on the family history from Mantua, and visited on the phone.
On a sad note, I found out my 3rd Grade teacher, Ella Suhr passed away in June.  I was hoping to at least write her and say thank you for the influence she had on my life.  I suppose I will have to wait a while now.
Well, I will close.  Hope it was not too long and tedious of an entry.  It was a fascinating weekend, even though I am exhausted.  The usual state I am in as of late.  It is all worth it though.  I only hope my body will endure it for a very long time.
by

The low down on Miss AH

Well, the details about Amanda. Since everybody keeps asking. Here we go.

She is a beautful, red head at about 5’6″. She grew up in Kaysville, Utah about 20 minutes north of Salt Lake. She has two parents (duh) Bryan and Jill, and three siblings Derek (16), Scott (12), and Alyssa (6). She is a biology major at Utah State, but after we marry will finish her last semester at BYU. She plans on attending Virginia Commonwealth University and become an Dental Hygienist.

We met at Utah State as we both lived in the same ward. The first month of the school year the Elder’s taught the same apartments they had from the summer. I home taught her apartment the first month and met her then. I don’t remember anything in particular about the incident, other than she struck me as the usual freshman, but cute. There was something that intrigued me, but I never thought twice about it. I would say hello to her at Ward Prayer but otherwise never saw or visited with her.

It was not until the end of January that we had a snow storm that dumped snow on us. We received about a foot and a half overnight. Well, being the dutiful Elder assigned to keep some of the sidewalks cleared, I was out shoveling snow. It was a chore to keep my sidewalks clean. Finally when it slowed down some, I thought, well what is the point of shoveling walks if they have to walk through it to the church. So I started shoveling a walk all the way to the church doors. I had crossed the parking lot and was headed by some trees when I was nailed in the side of the head with a snowball. Looking around, a girl who I could not recognize with her hood and everything was looking very innocent. I walked over to her and told her we needed to chat. Putting my arm around her, I picked her up and did a full body plant with her in the snow and then proceeded to white wash her. (I could full body slam her in a foot and half of snow, so I did) She laughed, I laughed, I helped her up (I now knew who it was), and then went back to shoveling. Only seconds later, I was hit by another snow ball in the side of the head. I turned around and was more shocked by the audacity of the girl, (J Golden Kimball comes to mind, “You damn sons of perdition, have you no respect for the Priesthood!) and thought well, here comes another white washing. Again, she did not attempt to run and I proceeded to dump her again and white wash her. However, when I planted her, she put her elbow down, and I heard it hit the pavement. It visibly hurt her, so I felt really bad. I helped her up, felt really bad, and walked her home. I promised I would make it up to her somehow.

A few weeks later, I finally got up the nerve, and a hole in my schedule to take her out. A married friend (James) of mine was given a turkey at Christmas. His wife (Catherine), hates turkey, so he told me to bring a date to dinner, a hungry one. After being turned down twice, Amanda accepted. I did not tell her we were having dinner with a married couple until on the way there, that way she could not back out. We had dinner and played games afterward and my friend insisted on telling stories of me the whole time. After the date, she seemed to enjoy herself, I was impressed with her demeanor, and decided I wanted to take her out again. A week later I was invited by a family in Richmond to come to dinner and bring a date. I did, another awkward date, but she handled it well. I have been taking her out ever since. She keeps letting me!

She really impressed me with an understanding of astronomy. It was also very impressive how she studied biology and could retain it. She was learning it, not just studying it to pass a test. She is one very smart cookie! That kept my attention and she has taught me many things. A very thoughtful girl, deliberate, and interesting. She has a quiet confidence which is very attractive. That is not to mention that she is really cute too. She loves me, and everything has lined up perfectly. Sometimes I think it is too perfect how everything has turned out.

Anyhow, that is the story from my side of the paradigm. Any other questions, feel free to let me know.