GRAMPA STORIES
Remembrances and Lessons for his Posterity
by
Thomas James Curtis 1914 - 1982
by
Thomas James Curtis 1914 - 1982
CALIBRATION
In my youth I was taught at home, in the schools, and at Church to "maintain high
standards." I knew that it was something good, and so I gave some lip service to the idea; but
no one as I recall, ever told me what-a "standard" was; at least, not so that I related to it.
In later years another word became associated with standard. It was calibration. The
statement was frequently made "that something must be calibrated against a standard." Let
me see if I can explain what this means to me now.
Perhaps a common ruler can be used to illustrate the principle. A ruler is 12 inches long. That is interesting because every ruler is 12 inches long. It doesn't matter where you buy it; in Chicago, Pittsburgh, San Jose, California, in Virginia, or Utah or New York, it is always the same length, 12 inches. This is very important simply because it makes it easier to talk to each other. If I were to tell you that my fishing leader is 6 inches long, you would immediately know what that means, and you would have a picture in your-mind of how long my fishing leader is. The reason for this is that a standard had been agreed upon (the inch), and every one of the rulers, no matter who makes them or where they are made, will always be the same. A 12 inch ruler bought in the five and dime store will be the same as-one bought in any other store. We have learned to have confidence in and trust for a "ruler" because it has been calibrated against a known and accepted standard.
Let us think for a minute about a common thermometer. When we get sick, Mom or Dad will stick a thermometer into our mouth and take our temperature. This is important because when they call the doctor, the first question he may ask is, "What is your temperature? When he is told that it is 1 03 degrees, he immediately knows about how sick you are. That reading means something to him because he knows that when that thermometer was made, a known and accepted standard was used (the degree), and that every thermometer is calibrated against that standard.
I had often thought, "What if someone didn't like the ruler or thermometer that we presently have. Supposing they didn't like those standards and said, 'I am going to make my own ruler and have my own standards.'" If this were the case, then their ruler or thermometer, as the case may be, would not be the same as the others If we all had different "standards", then a six inch fishing leader according to my standards would be a different length than one measured according to your standards. A 103 degree temperature measured according to your standards would be different than one measured by my standards. With these differences we would not be able to communicate with each other, because we would not know what each other meant. Our lives would be in chaos because we- would not be able to communicate with each other intelligently.
Because proper standards are important, and the calibration against these standards equally important, the United States has established an agency to establish, maintain and protect these standards, as well as the methods of calibration, such that our society can be an
Perhaps a common ruler can be used to illustrate the principle. A ruler is 12 inches long. That is interesting because every ruler is 12 inches long. It doesn't matter where you buy it; in Chicago, Pittsburgh, San Jose, California, in Virginia, or Utah or New York, it is always the same length, 12 inches. This is very important simply because it makes it easier to talk to each other. If I were to tell you that my fishing leader is 6 inches long, you would immediately know what that means, and you would have a picture in your-mind of how long my fishing leader is. The reason for this is that a standard had been agreed upon (the inch), and every one of the rulers, no matter who makes them or where they are made, will always be the same. A 12 inch ruler bought in the five and dime store will be the same as-one bought in any other store. We have learned to have confidence in and trust for a "ruler" because it has been calibrated against a known and accepted standard.
Let us think for a minute about a common thermometer. When we get sick, Mom or Dad will stick a thermometer into our mouth and take our temperature. This is important because when they call the doctor, the first question he may ask is, "What is your temperature? When he is told that it is 1 03 degrees, he immediately knows about how sick you are. That reading means something to him because he knows that when that thermometer was made, a known and accepted standard was used (the degree), and that every thermometer is calibrated against that standard.
I had often thought, "What if someone didn't like the ruler or thermometer that we presently have. Supposing they didn't like those standards and said, 'I am going to make my own ruler and have my own standards.'" If this were the case, then their ruler or thermometer, as the case may be, would not be the same as the others If we all had different "standards", then a six inch fishing leader according to my standards would be a different length than one measured according to your standards. A 103 degree temperature measured according to your standards would be different than one measured by my standards. With these differences we would not be able to communicate with each other, because we would not know what each other meant. Our lives would be in chaos because we- would not be able to communicate with each other intelligently.
Because proper standards are important, and the calibration against these standards equally important, the United States has established an agency to establish, maintain and protect these standards, as well as the methods of calibration, such that our society can be an
2
orderly one. This is particularly true for the physical and scientific aspects of our
relationships.
It has occurred to me that if standards and the calibration against them is so important in the physical and scientific world, then certainly of equal importance would they be in the world of attitudes and conduct. Just what are the standards against which our thoughts and actions should be calibrated?
In our temporal society there are governments and systems of laws which are used to control the relationships of one individual with another or .one group of individuals with another. Some of these governments are dictatorial and arbitrary, some are monarchial and dogmatic, while still others are democratic. Each of these systems have different standards. It is probable that much of the difficulty we experience in the world exists because of the different standards. As a people we hope for and look forward to the time when the whole world will have a common system, the same standards. I don't believe it takes much imagination to see that if we had a common government and a common system of laws with opportunity, justice and equality for all, most of our temporal problems would at least be minimized, if not eliminated. .
In the realm of spiritual things there are also governments and systems of laws which are called Kingdoms-of God, and divine laws. Here again, there is such a diversity of interpretation among men that there is no standard common to all against which attitudes and conduct can be measured. As a young man I asked myself the question many, many times, "Just what is the absolute standard, if one exists, against which my thoughts, attitudes and conduct should be calibrated?" I could readily see that if each of us as individuals arbitrarily chose our own standard, continued and even increased chaos would result in our relationships with one another. What, then, should these standards be?
At about this time, I was called to go on a mission to Nazi Germany for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I had grown up under the umbrella of this system. It was a good system, but as I Matured in the missionary effort, I realized that I had been swept along, and that now I had to resolve many issues all by myself. As a missionary, I was obligated to teach that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the absolute standard against which the thoughts and actions of all people must be calibrated to earn salvation and exaltation in the Kingdom of God. I suddenly realized that I did not have that solid a conviction; my foundation was not that secure.
For the first time I began a serious effort of study and prayer in order to resolve the issues. I began to re-examine the doctrines of the Church. I very quickly realized that the entire position of the "Mormon" Church rested upon the reality of the visions and teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith. His story is so bizarre, so extraordinary, so strange that it has to be an attempted hoax of gigantic proportions, or it has to be true. I thought that the story was of the nature that if it were a hoax it could easily be discredited, in which case we
It has occurred to me that if standards and the calibration against them is so important in the physical and scientific world, then certainly of equal importance would they be in the world of attitudes and conduct. Just what are the standards against which our thoughts and actions should be calibrated?
In our temporal society there are governments and systems of laws which are used to control the relationships of one individual with another or .one group of individuals with another. Some of these governments are dictatorial and arbitrary, some are monarchial and dogmatic, while still others are democratic. Each of these systems have different standards. It is probable that much of the difficulty we experience in the world exists because of the different standards. As a people we hope for and look forward to the time when the whole world will have a common system, the same standards. I don't believe it takes much imagination to see that if we had a common government and a common system of laws with opportunity, justice and equality for all, most of our temporal problems would at least be minimized, if not eliminated. .
In the realm of spiritual things there are also governments and systems of laws which are called Kingdoms-of God, and divine laws. Here again, there is such a diversity of interpretation among men that there is no standard common to all against which attitudes and conduct can be measured. As a young man I asked myself the question many, many times, "Just what is the absolute standard, if one exists, against which my thoughts, attitudes and conduct should be calibrated?" I could readily see that if each of us as individuals arbitrarily chose our own standard, continued and even increased chaos would result in our relationships with one another. What, then, should these standards be?
At about this time, I was called to go on a mission to Nazi Germany for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I had grown up under the umbrella of this system. It was a good system, but as I Matured in the missionary effort, I realized that I had been swept along, and that now I had to resolve many issues all by myself. As a missionary, I was obligated to teach that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the absolute standard against which the thoughts and actions of all people must be calibrated to earn salvation and exaltation in the Kingdom of God. I suddenly realized that I did not have that solid a conviction; my foundation was not that secure.
For the first time I began a serious effort of study and prayer in order to resolve the issues. I began to re-examine the doctrines of the Church. I very quickly realized that the entire position of the "Mormon" Church rested upon the reality of the visions and teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith. His story is so bizarre, so extraordinary, so strange that it has to be an attempted hoax of gigantic proportions, or it has to be true. I thought that the story was of the nature that if it were a hoax it could easily be discredited, in which case we
3
would be no better off than other peoples of the world. If it were true, however, the
implications would be so far-reaching and so profound as to require the attention of all the
people of the world, living and dead.
The process that I went through to resolve this dilemma was not complicated. It involved much study, reasoning and prayer. The evidence that I compiled was overwhelming. My understanding was expanded, my intellect quickened, and my testimony of the reality and truthfulness of the Joseph Smith story crystallized into a firm conviction. The details of this experience are too lengthy for the purpose of this story, but may well be the basis for other "Grampa" stories.
To bring this story to a conclusion, I would testify to you that all of Grampa's life experiences have taught him a few basic truths. There is indeed a God in heaven. Although I have not seem him as tangibly as I had once hoped, I have sensed his presence in every sight, in every sound and every smell. At time of greatest depression and despair I have felt His presence very, very near. He is an exalted being with a body of flesh and bone as tangible as yours and mine, literally the Father of our spirits. I am convinced that as man now is, God once was; and that as God now is, man may become, if he can bring his life into conformance with the principles of divine law. I further leave my witness with you that Jesus Christ is also a personage of flesh and bone; one who lived, died and was resurrected, having completed the atonement. He is the King of the Kingdom of God on earth, as well as the Kingdom of Heaven. He is the one who has chosen living prophets to reveal His will and to administer the affairs of His church upon the earth. I bear witness that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is exactly what it claims to be: “the only Church upon the face of the whole earth with which the Lord is well pleased, speaking unto the Church collectively and not individually, for I cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance.’”
It is my fervent prayer that each and every one of you will give serious and prayerful heed to this message. As Jesus the Christ has told us, "Be ye therefore humble and I the Lord will lead thee by the hand and give thee answers to thy prayers." The Gospel of Jesus Christ as revealed in its fulness through the living prophets is the absolute standard against which our thoughts and actions should be calibrated. I solemnly testify in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
The process that I went through to resolve this dilemma was not complicated. It involved much study, reasoning and prayer. The evidence that I compiled was overwhelming. My understanding was expanded, my intellect quickened, and my testimony of the reality and truthfulness of the Joseph Smith story crystallized into a firm conviction. The details of this experience are too lengthy for the purpose of this story, but may well be the basis for other "Grampa" stories.
To bring this story to a conclusion, I would testify to you that all of Grampa's life experiences have taught him a few basic truths. There is indeed a God in heaven. Although I have not seem him as tangibly as I had once hoped, I have sensed his presence in every sight, in every sound and every smell. At time of greatest depression and despair I have felt His presence very, very near. He is an exalted being with a body of flesh and bone as tangible as yours and mine, literally the Father of our spirits. I am convinced that as man now is, God once was; and that as God now is, man may become, if he can bring his life into conformance with the principles of divine law. I further leave my witness with you that Jesus Christ is also a personage of flesh and bone; one who lived, died and was resurrected, having completed the atonement. He is the King of the Kingdom of God on earth, as well as the Kingdom of Heaven. He is the one who has chosen living prophets to reveal His will and to administer the affairs of His church upon the earth. I bear witness that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is exactly what it claims to be: “the only Church upon the face of the whole earth with which the Lord is well pleased, speaking unto the Church collectively and not individually, for I cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance.’”
It is my fervent prayer that each and every one of you will give serious and prayerful heed to this message. As Jesus the Christ has told us, "Be ye therefore humble and I the Lord will lead thee by the hand and give thee answers to thy prayers." The Gospel of Jesus Christ as revealed in its fulness through the living prophets is the absolute standard against which our thoughts and actions should be calibrated. I solemnly testify in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
4
BLIND DONKEYS
Gleiwitz, in the German province of Oberschlesian (upper-Silesia) was the location of the
first field of labor I was assigned to as a senior companion. I remember well the day that
President Welker called me into his office in Berlin and discussed the assignment with me.
I had been in the mission eight months and at the time was working in Potsdam near Berlin. My senior companion then was Charles Perschon from Salt. Lake City. The President said that I had done well with the language and as an added bonus he gave me a man who, a few days before, had just arrived. His name was Byron T. Geslison. He knew nothing about the German language.
Gleiwitz was about as far away from the mission headquarters as the President could send us. Our job was to reopen this city that hadn't had missionaries for over ten years.
The city was very near the Polish Border in an area where there were many coal mines. My story centers on these coal mines.
At one time we were invited to visit one of the larger coal mines. Down deep inside the mine we found many little donkeys. (more like our burros) working in the mine. They were mostly used-to pull the coal carts back and forth in the mine. Of course it was quite dark in the mine; the only light coming from the small carbide lamps on the miners hats. The donkeys were kept down in the mine all their lives. Since it was so dark and inasmuch as the donkeys did not use their eyes they eventually went blind. After they went blind they couldn’t work any more so they would be sold to a glue factory.
At one time one of the donkeys became ill with a stomach ache. He. was taken up out of the Mine and allowed to browse in a pasture in the warm sunlight until he got well. As soon as he was well again he was taken back into the mine. Someone noticed that it took this donkey a lot longer than the others to go blind. Because of this they started an experiment.
They soon discovered that if each of the donkeys were allowed to browse in the pasture, in the sunlight, for just one day a week, they would never go blind. They could then a full life time, becoming much more valuable to the miners.
After returning home I thought about those donkeys. Then I remembered something our Savior, Jesus Christ had said. “Sis days shalt thou shalt rest from by labors and go to the house of worship. I believe that if we, as the donkeys, stop our daily labors and just one day at least, go to the house of worship and bask in the warmth of the light of the gospel, we shall never go spiritually blind.
I had been in the mission eight months and at the time was working in Potsdam near Berlin. My senior companion then was Charles Perschon from Salt. Lake City. The President said that I had done well with the language and as an added bonus he gave me a man who, a few days before, had just arrived. His name was Byron T. Geslison. He knew nothing about the German language.
Gleiwitz was about as far away from the mission headquarters as the President could send us. Our job was to reopen this city that hadn't had missionaries for over ten years.
The city was very near the Polish Border in an area where there were many coal mines. My story centers on these coal mines.
At one time we were invited to visit one of the larger coal mines. Down deep inside the mine we found many little donkeys. (more like our burros) working in the mine. They were mostly used-to pull the coal carts back and forth in the mine. Of course it was quite dark in the mine; the only light coming from the small carbide lamps on the miners hats. The donkeys were kept down in the mine all their lives. Since it was so dark and inasmuch as the donkeys did not use their eyes they eventually went blind. After they went blind they couldn’t work any more so they would be sold to a glue factory.
At one time one of the donkeys became ill with a stomach ache. He. was taken up out of the Mine and allowed to browse in a pasture in the warm sunlight until he got well. As soon as he was well again he was taken back into the mine. Someone noticed that it took this donkey a lot longer than the others to go blind. Because of this they started an experiment.
They soon discovered that if each of the donkeys were allowed to browse in the pasture, in the sunlight, for just one day a week, they would never go blind. They could then a full life time, becoming much more valuable to the miners.
After returning home I thought about those donkeys. Then I remembered something our Savior, Jesus Christ had said. “Sis days shalt thou shalt rest from by labors and go to the house of worship. I believe that if we, as the donkeys, stop our daily labors and just one day at least, go to the house of worship and bask in the warmth of the light of the gospel, we shall never go spiritually blind.
5
NEVER GIVE UP
Winston Churchill, the Prime Minister of England during World War 11 was one of the
great political figures of our age. I believe he was a great man-who was in the right place at
the right time.
The following story, I believe, is the best of all the stories told about this great man.
After World War 11 had ended, the fame of this man had been firmly established. The elementary grade school that he had attended as a boy invited Mr. Churchill to visit them and to talk to them. The invitation was accepted.
The students and faculty of the school were, of course, very excited over the prospect of having this famous man honor them. Needless to say they went "all out" in making preparations. The school had been made spotlessly clean, the flags were flying, flowers were on the podium, and everyone would be beautifully dressed in their Sunday best.
The day finally arrived. The principal of the school greeted Mr. Churchill, and after a few preliminary comments, turned the time over to their illustrious visitor. They were expecting to hear a discourse for which this man was famous. The students were supplied with notebooks and pencils with which to take notes of the unprecedented event.
Mr. Churchill stood up, it is said, looked slowly around the auditorium at all of those young faces, and then said, "NEVER GIVE UP -- NEVER - NEVER - NEVER - NEVER - NEVER; THANK YOU." He.then sat down.
Greatness lies in simplicity. His message is profound. PERSISTENCE is, indeed, the key to every successful endeavor.
The following story, I believe, is the best of all the stories told about this great man.
After World War 11 had ended, the fame of this man had been firmly established. The elementary grade school that he had attended as a boy invited Mr. Churchill to visit them and to talk to them. The invitation was accepted.
The students and faculty of the school were, of course, very excited over the prospect of having this famous man honor them. Needless to say they went "all out" in making preparations. The school had been made spotlessly clean, the flags were flying, flowers were on the podium, and everyone would be beautifully dressed in their Sunday best.
The day finally arrived. The principal of the school greeted Mr. Churchill, and after a few preliminary comments, turned the time over to their illustrious visitor. They were expecting to hear a discourse for which this man was famous. The students were supplied with notebooks and pencils with which to take notes of the unprecedented event.
Mr. Churchill stood up, it is said, looked slowly around the auditorium at all of those young faces, and then said, "NEVER GIVE UP -- NEVER - NEVER - NEVER - NEVER - NEVER; THANK YOU." He.then sat down.
Greatness lies in simplicity. His message is profound. PERSISTENCE is, indeed, the key to every successful endeavor.
6
RECOGNIZED AND ACCEPTED
Soon after the Los Angeles Temple was dedicated the First Presidency of the Church
called a Solemn Assembly for all of the Melchizedek Priesthood-leadership in the Temple
District. This meeting was to take place on a certain Saturday morning, and would be held in
the large assembly room on the top floor of the temple. The meeting would begin at 10 am.
On that Saturday morning the men were all gathered around the outside of the Temple. There were several doors that we could enter. We had been asked to line up in front of these doors according to our Stakes. We were also asked to organize ourselves three abreast.
On one side of the Temple doors was a Stake President. On the other side was a member of the Temple staff. At the appointed time the Temple doors opened, and each group of three brethren, in their turn, approached the door. As it came our turn, our Stake President, who at that time happened to be David B. Haight, who is now a member of the Council of the Twelve Apostles, said, "Good morning Bishop Curtis, and brother Ayrton, and brother Perry. He then turned to the Temple worker on the other side of the door, and nodded assent. This Temple worker was holding one end of the rope which was stretched across the door. As soon as he received the nod of approval from the Stake President, moved the rope aside to let the three of us through the door. We then proceeded up the stairs to the upper room to sit quietly until the meeting started.
As I walked up the stairs and as I sat quietly in that beautiful room, meditating, the chills race d. up and down my spine, and tears came into my eyes. I realized that, at least, at that point in time, I had been recognized and accepted.
What a spiritual feast it was. All of the General Authorities were in attendance. The Council of the Twelve. together with other members of the general authorities passed the sacrament to those in attendance. Harold B. Zee and Spencer W. Kimball blessed the sacrament. The meeting lasted for seven hours without a break., It could have lasted forever. The council we received was very special. There are things to be heard in a Solemn Assembly that are heard in no other meetings.
I have often thought what a curse it would have been if I had presented myself at the door and the Stake President would have said to me, "I'm sorry but I don't know you", or maybe he might have said, "I'm sorry brother Curtis but would you stand aside and let these other brethren through. I must talk to you."
I am not sure that that is exactly the way it is going to be when the time comes for us to go into the Kingdom of Heaven. It must be something like that though, because we know that God's Angels will be placed at the portals (doors) of the Kingdom, and that we shall have to present our credentials.
On that Saturday morning the men were all gathered around the outside of the Temple. There were several doors that we could enter. We had been asked to line up in front of these doors according to our Stakes. We were also asked to organize ourselves three abreast.
On one side of the Temple doors was a Stake President. On the other side was a member of the Temple staff. At the appointed time the Temple doors opened, and each group of three brethren, in their turn, approached the door. As it came our turn, our Stake President, who at that time happened to be David B. Haight, who is now a member of the Council of the Twelve Apostles, said, "Good morning Bishop Curtis, and brother Ayrton, and brother Perry. He then turned to the Temple worker on the other side of the door, and nodded assent. This Temple worker was holding one end of the rope which was stretched across the door. As soon as he received the nod of approval from the Stake President, moved the rope aside to let the three of us through the door. We then proceeded up the stairs to the upper room to sit quietly until the meeting started.
As I walked up the stairs and as I sat quietly in that beautiful room, meditating, the chills race d. up and down my spine, and tears came into my eyes. I realized that, at least, at that point in time, I had been recognized and accepted.
What a spiritual feast it was. All of the General Authorities were in attendance. The Council of the Twelve. together with other members of the general authorities passed the sacrament to those in attendance. Harold B. Zee and Spencer W. Kimball blessed the sacrament. The meeting lasted for seven hours without a break., It could have lasted forever. The council we received was very special. There are things to be heard in a Solemn Assembly that are heard in no other meetings.
I have often thought what a curse it would have been if I had presented myself at the door and the Stake President would have said to me, "I'm sorry but I don't know you", or maybe he might have said, "I'm sorry brother Curtis but would you stand aside and let these other brethren through. I must talk to you."
I am not sure that that is exactly the way it is going to be when the time comes for us to go into the Kingdom of Heaven. It must be something like that though, because we know that God's Angels will be placed at the portals (doors) of the Kingdom, and that we shall have to present our credentials.
7
What a blessing it will be to have the Lord say, "Good morning brother Curtis, it is
good to see you - come, enter into my Kingdom, your credentials are acceptable to me."
What a curse it will be if he is forced to say, "I'm. sorry but I don't know you," or perhaps he would say, "I'm sorry, brother Curtis, but your credentials are not complete or acceptable to me, would you please stand aside."
I sincerely hope and pray that every member of my family will so prepare themselves that when these important times arise, they will be recognized and accepted.
What a curse it will be if he is forced to say, "I'm. sorry but I don't know you," or perhaps he would say, "I'm sorry, brother Curtis, but your credentials are not complete or acceptable to me, would you please stand aside."
I sincerely hope and pray that every member of my family will so prepare themselves that when these important times arise, they will be recognized and accepted.
8
I'LL STICK WITH YOU DAD
We had been planning the trip for a long time. Jimmy, my oldest son was approaching
his 12th birthday. He would soon be ordained a deacon, and become a full fledged Boy Scout.
The trip was planned as a celebration. My second son Dan was too young, at this time, to go
on such a trip. His turn was to come later.
The trip was to be a back pack trip into the Ten Lake area of Yosemite Park. We would be gone for four days. It was one of the most memorable trips of our lives.
When we entered the Park the Ranger handed Jim a brochure with a picture of a large bear on the front cover. This was not particularly reassuring to him. He was a little apprehensive about spending four days in the wilderness where cougar and bear were known to be.
We drove to the Yosemite Creek Ranger Station on the Tioga Pass road. We left the car at the Ranger Station, and with the packs on our backs started up the trail. We followed the trail for a couple of hours and then left the trail and launched off into the wild country where there were no trails. This was the month of July; the weather was perfect, and the country absolutely beautiful. After hiking for another four hours or so we picked a campsite on the edge of a small stream which was a tributary flowing into Yosemite Creek. It was cold and crystal clear. This would be our base camp for the next three days. The rest of the day was spent setting up the cam , resting a little, and catching a few trout (six to eight inches. These we had for dinner. There is nothing quite like fresh trout wrapped in foil and cooked in the coals of a campfire. Finally it got dark and we settled down in our sleeping bags in the small tent. We had tied all of our food stuffs in a bag and hoisted it off the ground about 20 feet high so that the many critters which forage in the night would not raid our camp.
We were relaxing in our sleeping bags, eating a Hershey bar and making small talk and mellowing off to sleep, when all of a sudden the night was split with one of the most piercing screams I have ever heard. It was close by.
Jim and I both sat up in bed and Jim exclaimed, "What was that?" I said, "Oh it is probably a coyote near by." I knew all the time that it was a cougar, but I didn't want to unduly alarm Jimmy the first night out. I don't think he was too convinced but there were no further incidents so we fell off to sleep.
At daybreak we fixed breakfast, secured our camp for our, absence and then with a light pack started off for the Ten Lakes area.
The first day we took our time and just explored the beautiful country within a few miles of the camp. We fished a little in. the afternoon, prepared our dinner. Being very tired, we had no trouble falling off to sleep.
The trip was to be a back pack trip into the Ten Lake area of Yosemite Park. We would be gone for four days. It was one of the most memorable trips of our lives.
When we entered the Park the Ranger handed Jim a brochure with a picture of a large bear on the front cover. This was not particularly reassuring to him. He was a little apprehensive about spending four days in the wilderness where cougar and bear were known to be.
We drove to the Yosemite Creek Ranger Station on the Tioga Pass road. We left the car at the Ranger Station, and with the packs on our backs started up the trail. We followed the trail for a couple of hours and then left the trail and launched off into the wild country where there were no trails. This was the month of July; the weather was perfect, and the country absolutely beautiful. After hiking for another four hours or so we picked a campsite on the edge of a small stream which was a tributary flowing into Yosemite Creek. It was cold and crystal clear. This would be our base camp for the next three days. The rest of the day was spent setting up the cam , resting a little, and catching a few trout (six to eight inches. These we had for dinner. There is nothing quite like fresh trout wrapped in foil and cooked in the coals of a campfire. Finally it got dark and we settled down in our sleeping bags in the small tent. We had tied all of our food stuffs in a bag and hoisted it off the ground about 20 feet high so that the many critters which forage in the night would not raid our camp.
We were relaxing in our sleeping bags, eating a Hershey bar and making small talk and mellowing off to sleep, when all of a sudden the night was split with one of the most piercing screams I have ever heard. It was close by.
Jim and I both sat up in bed and Jim exclaimed, "What was that?" I said, "Oh it is probably a coyote near by." I knew all the time that it was a cougar, but I didn't want to unduly alarm Jimmy the first night out. I don't think he was too convinced but there were no further incidents so we fell off to sleep.
At daybreak we fixed breakfast, secured our camp for our, absence and then with a light pack started off for the Ten Lakes area.
The first day we took our time and just explored the beautiful country within a few miles of the camp. We fished a little in. the afternoon, prepared our dinner. Being very tired, we had no trouble falling off to sleep.
9
The third day we went all the way into the Ten Lake area. We saw a few deer but the most
spectacular sight was one we saw from the top of the ridge just before going down into the
Ten Lakes valley. In the distance was a broad panorama of the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne
River. The sun was just right to display those gorgeous mountains in their best array. It is
breathtaking. The entire day was spent at the lakes, fishing, swimming, hiking around a little,
talking a lot. It was. so much fun that we overstayed our visit and it began to get dark on us.
This was alarming. If you have ever been in the high mountain wilderness, off any trails, in the dark, you will know what I mean. To make it worse, it was a moonless night. As we started back to camp in the darkness, Jim exhibited a substantial anxiety. Things look a little different in the night than they do in the daytime. It is not easy to recognize landmarks. Unknown to Jim, on the way up I had identified some landmarks that I could recognize in the dark. Having had a little experience and suspecting this might happen to us: I was prepared. Jim kept saying, "are you sure you know where we are?" By this time he was following me very closely. In fact as I lifted one foot out of my tract, his foot would be in it.' He was hanging on to a strap on the back of my pack. I have to agree, it was very dark, and since we were not on any trail it was a little scary. Even I was a little nervous. Fortunately we had said our prayers. I think Jim was praying all the time. And then to make matters worse, there was a sudden loud sound, in front of us and off to the side, of a large something charging pell mell through the brush up the side of the mountain. We stopped in our tracks, our hearts in our throats. Jim exclaimed once again, "What was that?"
I said truthfully, "That was a bear." Apparently we startled it as much as he startled us. In a short while all was quiet again. The noise had disappeared over the hill and we proceeded on our journey. There were other noises that alerted us but nothing like that one. By this time Jim had become so frightened that he questioned again and again if I knew what I was doing. I told Jim that if he didn't think I knew the way he could go his own way if he wanted and we would meet at the camp. I was a little exasperated. He said, "no - I will stick with you Dad." He was quiet the rest of the way. After about another hour through the darkness we came to a little stream, and suddenly Jimmy shouted, "hey Dad, there is our fishing hole." He had recognized the place where we had caught a few fish. This place was only about one hundred yards from our. camp downstream. Finally we were in camp and both of us, though very tired, were very relieved.
We quickly snuggled into our sleeping bags and while munching on another Hershey bar were mellowing off to sleep. Suddenly there was once again that piercing shriek. Jim said, "that's no coyote." I said, "you are right, it is a cougar, I just didn't want to scare you the first night out." Since there was no more noise we quieted down to sleep and Jim said, "I'm glad I stuck with you, Dad." I said, "I'm glad you did too because I wouldn't have wanted you to get lost."
As I thought about that, before dropping off to sleep, I became aware of how much life is like that. There are times when we question the direction our parents, our teachers,
This was alarming. If you have ever been in the high mountain wilderness, off any trails, in the dark, you will know what I mean. To make it worse, it was a moonless night. As we started back to camp in the darkness, Jim exhibited a substantial anxiety. Things look a little different in the night than they do in the daytime. It is not easy to recognize landmarks. Unknown to Jim, on the way up I had identified some landmarks that I could recognize in the dark. Having had a little experience and suspecting this might happen to us: I was prepared. Jim kept saying, "are you sure you know where we are?" By this time he was following me very closely. In fact as I lifted one foot out of my tract, his foot would be in it.' He was hanging on to a strap on the back of my pack. I have to agree, it was very dark, and since we were not on any trail it was a little scary. Even I was a little nervous. Fortunately we had said our prayers. I think Jim was praying all the time. And then to make matters worse, there was a sudden loud sound, in front of us and off to the side, of a large something charging pell mell through the brush up the side of the mountain. We stopped in our tracks, our hearts in our throats. Jim exclaimed once again, "What was that?"
I said truthfully, "That was a bear." Apparently we startled it as much as he startled us. In a short while all was quiet again. The noise had disappeared over the hill and we proceeded on our journey. There were other noises that alerted us but nothing like that one. By this time Jim had become so frightened that he questioned again and again if I knew what I was doing. I told Jim that if he didn't think I knew the way he could go his own way if he wanted and we would meet at the camp. I was a little exasperated. He said, "no - I will stick with you Dad." He was quiet the rest of the way. After about another hour through the darkness we came to a little stream, and suddenly Jimmy shouted, "hey Dad, there is our fishing hole." He had recognized the place where we had caught a few fish. This place was only about one hundred yards from our. camp downstream. Finally we were in camp and both of us, though very tired, were very relieved.
We quickly snuggled into our sleeping bags and while munching on another Hershey bar were mellowing off to sleep. Suddenly there was once again that piercing shriek. Jim said, "that's no coyote." I said, "you are right, it is a cougar, I just didn't want to scare you the first night out." Since there was no more noise we quieted down to sleep and Jim said, "I'm glad I stuck with you, Dad." I said, "I'm glad you did too because I wouldn't have wanted you to get lost."
As I thought about that, before dropping off to sleep, I became aware of how much life is like that. There are times when we question the direction our parents, our teachers,
10
the presiding authorities of the Church are going. Do they really know what they are doing?
Sometimes we even question God himself. It is important for us to have faith, and trust in
those who love us. If we will but follow the ways of our Father in Heaven, the time will come
when we, too, will say, "I'm glad I stuck with you Dad."
Incidentally, in the morning we found sizeable cougar tracks in our camp.
Incidentally, in the morning we found sizeable cougar tracks in our camp.
11
CHOOSING YOUR FRIENDS
Aunt Norma was my father's sister: Her husband was my uncle Wallace Ashdown.
During my growing up years I spent a lot of time visiting with them on their ranch in
Bountiful, Utah. Since my father was accidently killed when I was about seven years old,
Uncle Wallace was a father image to me. I always enjoyed visiting with them because they
made me feel welcome, and there were always horses, cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, and lots
of room to walk and run around in.
One day, when I was about 15 years old Uncle Wallace and I were sitting on the corral railing. We had just brought a few horses down f-rom the hills, and they were milling around in the corral. At that particular time in my life I had a few friends who smoked cigarettes a little, drank liquor once in a while, and even occasionally went skinny dipping in the old swimming hole with some of the neighborhood girls. I wasn't doing any of those things, but I still liked to play baseball and football with them. v I was telling Uncle Wallace all about this as we sat on the corral railing. He didn't approve of this kind of company that I was keeping.
I tried to reason with him in this way. As long as I didn't get into any of those bad habits why couldn't I keep them as friends? Just what was wrong with playing baseball and football with the boys and occasionally dancing with the girls as long as I didn't get into the bad things they were doing? While I was trying to justify my reasoning, Uncle Wallace just pointed to the ground in the corral. He said, "Tommy, what do you see all over the ground in the corral?" I said, "well it is covered with mud and manure." (My language then was a little more colorful than it is now). Uncle Wallace said, "That's right." "Now, if you walk across the ground of the corral, and then go into the barn, and then walk to the far end of the barn and come back, do you think you could do that without getting any of that stuff on you?"
I said, "No I don't suppose I could." He said, "That's the way it is with/ the association of bad companions." "No matter how hard you try some of that stuff is going-to rub off on you."
He was right, and that was one of the most valuable lessons I learned from him. It helped me in later years to be very careful in choosing the companions I would be associated with
One day, when I was about 15 years old Uncle Wallace and I were sitting on the corral railing. We had just brought a few horses down f-rom the hills, and they were milling around in the corral. At that particular time in my life I had a few friends who smoked cigarettes a little, drank liquor once in a while, and even occasionally went skinny dipping in the old swimming hole with some of the neighborhood girls. I wasn't doing any of those things, but I still liked to play baseball and football with them. v I was telling Uncle Wallace all about this as we sat on the corral railing. He didn't approve of this kind of company that I was keeping.
I tried to reason with him in this way. As long as I didn't get into any of those bad habits why couldn't I keep them as friends? Just what was wrong with playing baseball and football with the boys and occasionally dancing with the girls as long as I didn't get into the bad things they were doing? While I was trying to justify my reasoning, Uncle Wallace just pointed to the ground in the corral. He said, "Tommy, what do you see all over the ground in the corral?" I said, "well it is covered with mud and manure." (My language then was a little more colorful than it is now). Uncle Wallace said, "That's right." "Now, if you walk across the ground of the corral, and then go into the barn, and then walk to the far end of the barn and come back, do you think you could do that without getting any of that stuff on you?"
I said, "No I don't suppose I could." He said, "That's the way it is with/ the association of bad companions." "No matter how hard you try some of that stuff is going-to rub off on you."
He was right, and that was one of the most valuable lessons I learned from him. It helped me in later years to be very careful in choosing the companions I would be associated with
12
YOU CAN'T GO IN TWO
DIRECTIONS AT THE SAME TIME
At this particular place in the canyon it was very narrow. The rock walls of the canyon rose very steep and very high. Sitting in the wagon as we rode down the canyon it was as if you could reach out and touch the sides of the rock walls. It wasn't quite like that but it just seemed so.
Uncle Wallace and I were riding in a small wagon pulled by a team of horses. It had been a long ride; we were still a long way from home. As the canyon widened out: we could see the river and we could also see the railroad tracks that passed through the canyon. This was the main line from Ogden, Utah to the east.
While we were slowing making our we along the road, a long freight train, pulled by a couple of large steam locomotives, began to pass us. It was going slow too but not as slow as we were going. In steep canyons it required, at least, two locomotives to pull the load, and of course the twisting road through the canyon made it necessary for them to go slow.
Both of us were watching the train with great interest. The team of horses was quite excited and fearful because of the noise and smoke and steam of the train. As we watched, a man climbed on top of the train and started walking along the top of the freight cars toward the rear end of the train.
I didn’t know what he was going to do but suddenly I remembered something that Uncle Wallace had said to me, on another occasion some time ago. He had said, "you can't go in two directions at the same time." I said to Uncle Wallace, "didn't you tell me once that we couldn't go in two directions at the same time?" He said that was true. I said, "well, isn't that man going in two directions at the same time?" You see, I had noticed that the train was moving forward and the man was riding on the train, but at the same time he was walking in the opposite direction toward the back of the t-rain.
Uncle Wallace's facial expression didn't change at all. For a minute I thought I had trapped Uncle Wallace. He watched the man for a moment and than he replied, “what happen to him if he keeps it up." It was clear that he would fall off the rear of the train. As years have gone by I have come to understand how valuable that truism is.
The Bible says it this way, "you can't worship God and Mammon (the devil) too." You just cant be a good member of the Church and fool around with bad companions or do wicked things and hope that it will all be ok. Somewhere among the line it will be with vou like it would have been with the man on the train. If you continue it will be like falling off the rear of the train. You probably will get hurt.
At this particular place in the canyon it was very narrow. The rock walls of the canyon rose very steep and very high. Sitting in the wagon as we rode down the canyon it was as if you could reach out and touch the sides of the rock walls. It wasn't quite like that but it just seemed so.
Uncle Wallace and I were riding in a small wagon pulled by a team of horses. It had been a long ride; we were still a long way from home. As the canyon widened out: we could see the river and we could also see the railroad tracks that passed through the canyon. This was the main line from Ogden, Utah to the east.
While we were slowing making our we along the road, a long freight train, pulled by a couple of large steam locomotives, began to pass us. It was going slow too but not as slow as we were going. In steep canyons it required, at least, two locomotives to pull the load, and of course the twisting road through the canyon made it necessary for them to go slow.
Both of us were watching the train with great interest. The team of horses was quite excited and fearful because of the noise and smoke and steam of the train. As we watched, a man climbed on top of the train and started walking along the top of the freight cars toward the rear end of the train.
I didn’t know what he was going to do but suddenly I remembered something that Uncle Wallace had said to me, on another occasion some time ago. He had said, "you can't go in two directions at the same time." I said to Uncle Wallace, "didn't you tell me once that we couldn't go in two directions at the same time?" He said that was true. I said, "well, isn't that man going in two directions at the same time?" You see, I had noticed that the train was moving forward and the man was riding on the train, but at the same time he was walking in the opposite direction toward the back of the t-rain.
Uncle Wallace's facial expression didn't change at all. For a minute I thought I had trapped Uncle Wallace. He watched the man for a moment and than he replied, “what happen to him if he keeps it up." It was clear that he would fall off the rear of the train. As years have gone by I have come to understand how valuable that truism is.
The Bible says it this way, "you can't worship God and Mammon (the devil) too." You just cant be a good member of the Church and fool around with bad companions or do wicked things and hope that it will all be ok. Somewhere among the line it will be with vou like it would have been with the man on the train. If you continue it will be like falling off the rear of the train. You probably will get hurt.
13
THE PROPER POINT OF VIEW
My grandma Curtis (this is Mary Eliza Eardley Curtis on the genealogy charts) was
sitting in her wheelchair working on a piece of needlework. This was the kind. of needlework
that is all pretty on one side but just a jumble of stuff on the other side.
I was living with my grandmother at the time because these were the 1930 depression years. Mother had lost her job and we had lost our home at 1625 Main street in Salt Lake City.
Mother was living with and helping a friend who owned a grocery store. There wasn't room for me in that home so I went to stay with grandma Curtis. I was about 14 years old at the time.
At-the time I was having a little trouble trying to decide whether I could accept the idea that there was a God. My confusion arose because of the injustices and inconsistencies that I could see happening to people. Actually my best friend Frank Ruga, who lived across the street from me, had just died of spinal meningitis. I was a little confused about it all. Down deep inside I knew there was a God but this time I was sort of teasing grandma. I said, "Aw there ain't any such thing as a God; there couldn't be with life being so difficult and confusing."
Grandma didn't say much. She just held up the needlework back side towards me and asked, "What do you see Thomas.” She always called me Thomas. Everyone else called me Tommy. I said, "I see just a jumble of thread. It is all mixed up. It is a mess." She said, "Yes that's right." She then turned the needlework around and showed. me the front side. She asked, "Now what do you see?" I said, "I see a pretty picture of flowers." She said, "that's right." She then turned the back side towards me and said, "we see life a lot like you described the appearance of this side, all mixed up and confusing. We don't understand it and so we get discouraged. She then turned the needlework around and showed me the flower side. She asked," do you see a pattern?" I said"yes." She asked again, "do you see color harmony and beauty of design?" I said, "yes." She then said, "That is the way God sees life. To Him it is all according to a plan. Right now all we see is a confusing jumble, but some day we will see it as God sees it and. then we will understand."
Grandma was right and this was a valuable lesson to me. While writing this story I remembered a poem I once read. It is called 'the Man in the Hole".
I was living with my grandmother at the time because these were the 1930 depression years. Mother had lost her job and we had lost our home at 1625 Main street in Salt Lake City.
Mother was living with and helping a friend who owned a grocery store. There wasn't room for me in that home so I went to stay with grandma Curtis. I was about 14 years old at the time.
At-the time I was having a little trouble trying to decide whether I could accept the idea that there was a God. My confusion arose because of the injustices and inconsistencies that I could see happening to people. Actually my best friend Frank Ruga, who lived across the street from me, had just died of spinal meningitis. I was a little confused about it all. Down deep inside I knew there was a God but this time I was sort of teasing grandma. I said, "Aw there ain't any such thing as a God; there couldn't be with life being so difficult and confusing."
Grandma didn't say much. She just held up the needlework back side towards me and asked, "What do you see Thomas.” She always called me Thomas. Everyone else called me Tommy. I said, "I see just a jumble of thread. It is all mixed up. It is a mess." She said, "Yes that's right." She then turned the needlework around and showed. me the front side. She asked, "Now what do you see?" I said, "I see a pretty picture of flowers." She said, "that's right." She then turned the back side towards me and said, "we see life a lot like you described the appearance of this side, all mixed up and confusing. We don't understand it and so we get discouraged. She then turned the needlework around and showed me the flower side. She asked," do you see a pattern?" I said"yes." She asked again, "do you see color harmony and beauty of design?" I said, "yes." She then said, "That is the way God sees life. To Him it is all according to a plan. Right now all we see is a confusing jumble, but some day we will see it as God sees it and. then we will understand."
Grandma was right and this was a valuable lesson to me. While writing this story I remembered a poem I once read. It is called 'the Man in the Hole".
14
THE MAN IN THE HOLE
There was a man in our town
who rushed along the street When suddenly he felt the world recede beneath his feet.
A teamster had delivered coal and then pursued his way, He left the man-hole open so there was the deuce to pay.
The man who hurried never saw the yawning hole ahead.
He made some bitter comments as he disappeared, t'is said.
Now comes the moral of the tale. A cyclone from the west
Came down the street as cyclones do and never stopped to rest.
The coal man and his team were tied into forty knots
And then distributed in chunks over fifty vacant lots.
The street was ripped from end to end and split up through the middle Not one who walked in it was left
to dance or play the fiddle.
But he who hadn't seen the hole and so had fallen through Came out when all was over just about as good as new.
Keep back the things that thou wouldst say
When fate seems harsh with thee It may turn out the other way so wait awhile and see.
who rushed along the street When suddenly he felt the world recede beneath his feet.
A teamster had delivered coal and then pursued his way, He left the man-hole open so there was the deuce to pay.
The man who hurried never saw the yawning hole ahead.
He made some bitter comments as he disappeared, t'is said.
Now comes the moral of the tale. A cyclone from the west
Came down the street as cyclones do and never stopped to rest.
The coal man and his team were tied into forty knots
And then distributed in chunks over fifty vacant lots.
The street was ripped from end to end and split up through the middle Not one who walked in it was left
to dance or play the fiddle.
But he who hadn't seen the hole and so had fallen through Came out when all was over just about as good as new.
Keep back the things that thou wouldst say
When fate seems harsh with thee It may turn out the other way so wait awhile and see.
15
LOOK HOW FAR WE HAVE COME
Sometimes in our daily endeavors, whatever they may be, the routines become tedious,
tiring, discouraging, and sometimes very depressing. As we look ahead toward the attainment
of our goals they seem so distant, maybe even unattainable.
I remember as I sometimes hiked in the mountains that the peak I was intending to climb never seemed to get any closer. We would walk and walk, but in the clear mountain air the illusion was that it was still a long way off. As years have gone by I have often thought that many of the things we try to achieve are a lot like this. The harder we work, the more we try, the farther off the attainment seems to be. Because of this we are tempted to give up.
Once, as a scoutmaster, I was hiking with the scouts towards a mountain east of Salt Lake City that we had long wanted to climb. It was a long hike, the mountain was steep. By the time lunch time came around the kids were tired and beginning to complain. We had been walking for five hours and the mountain didn't seem any closer than when we started out. The kids were trying to talk me into turning around
and going back.
It was then that I discovered a very important principle. We looked around for an outcropping of rock that we could climb up on that would be high enough to permit us to look back and see how far we had come. I pointed out to the boys where our camp was from which we had started. We could hardly see it in the distance. Once we had seen how far we had come, the rest of the distance to the mountain didn't seem very far. The boys were encouraged. We continued on and completed our objective.
Sometimes in life, when it seems impossible to continue; when the objectives seem too far away; it is a good idea to stop for a moment and reflect on how far we have come. It helps to restore our perspective and gives us the courage to carry on. Over the years I have been indebted to the hiking experience that taught me that valuable lesson.
I remember as I sometimes hiked in the mountains that the peak I was intending to climb never seemed to get any closer. We would walk and walk, but in the clear mountain air the illusion was that it was still a long way off. As years have gone by I have often thought that many of the things we try to achieve are a lot like this. The harder we work, the more we try, the farther off the attainment seems to be. Because of this we are tempted to give up.
Once, as a scoutmaster, I was hiking with the scouts towards a mountain east of Salt Lake City that we had long wanted to climb. It was a long hike, the mountain was steep. By the time lunch time came around the kids were tired and beginning to complain. We had been walking for five hours and the mountain didn't seem any closer than when we started out. The kids were trying to talk me into turning around
and going back.
It was then that I discovered a very important principle. We looked around for an outcropping of rock that we could climb up on that would be high enough to permit us to look back and see how far we had come. I pointed out to the boys where our camp was from which we had started. We could hardly see it in the distance. Once we had seen how far we had come, the rest of the distance to the mountain didn't seem very far. The boys were encouraged. We continued on and completed our objective.
Sometimes in life, when it seems impossible to continue; when the objectives seem too far away; it is a good idea to stop for a moment and reflect on how far we have come. It helps to restore our perspective and gives us the courage to carry on. Over the years I have been indebted to the hiking experience that taught me that valuable lesson.
16
EVAN STEPHENS
When I was about eleven years old we lived in a home at 1625 main street, Salt Lake
City, Utah. It was almost on the corner of 17th South and Main street. It was an older home
with high ceilings, a front porch, and a screened in back porch.
For spending money I carried a paper route for the Deseret News. My territory encompassed all the houses between 17th South and 21st South and State street and Second West. Among my customers was a man named Evan Stephens. At the time I new him he was an older man, rather chubby and bald headed. He was one of the nicest men I have ever known. Brother Stephens was quite a famous man in the Church. For many years he had been Director of the Tabernacle Choir, as well as a composer and poet. He had written a few of our hymns. If you look you will see his name credited on some of the hymns. At the time he was living in a small estate in the area between State Street and Main Street almost to 21st South.
On this estate he had many fruit trees and a small pond that was stocked with some of the beautiful rainbow trout. Since he wouldn't let anyone fish in the pond the fish had grown to be rather large. Mary times as I delivered papers to his home Brother Stephens would be out in the yard and he would put apples, pears, apricots, and cherries in my paper bag, when they were in season. I was instructed to take them home for mother and me to eat. Sometimes the fruit never made it home. Brother Stephens was a bachelor.- For some reason unknown to most of us he had never married. He did. have a housekeeper who did the cooking and did the washing and kept the house clean.. Once in a while Sister Daniels would greet me at the door and put goodies like cinnamon rolls, a fresh loaf of home made bread or even a pie and cake wrapped to take home. Some of that stuff never made it home either.
Once in a while I would put my bags and bicycle down and just stand at the edge of the pond with Brother Stephens and talk. One day, however, as I approached the house, Sister Daniels came to the door and told me that brother Stephens was very ill and wanted to see me. I put my paper bags and bicycle down and followed Sister Daniels into the house and then into his bedroom. There he was quite pale, and very ill, but smiling at me, as usual. He motioned to me to come and sit beside the bed where he could hold my hand. For about half an hour he talked to me about the importance of the Church. He had heard that I had recently been ordained a deacon and so he impressed upon me the importance cf magnifying my call and remaining true and faithful to the trust the Lord had placed upon me. For a young man it was an incredible spiritual experience. It was a moving experience for me then, and, as I reflect on it now, it still is now. He then told me how much confidence he had in me and made me promise that I would never let him down. Sister Daniels then escorted me to where my bicycle was and I continued on my route.
For spending money I carried a paper route for the Deseret News. My territory encompassed all the houses between 17th South and 21st South and State street and Second West. Among my customers was a man named Evan Stephens. At the time I new him he was an older man, rather chubby and bald headed. He was one of the nicest men I have ever known. Brother Stephens was quite a famous man in the Church. For many years he had been Director of the Tabernacle Choir, as well as a composer and poet. He had written a few of our hymns. If you look you will see his name credited on some of the hymns. At the time he was living in a small estate in the area between State Street and Main Street almost to 21st South.
On this estate he had many fruit trees and a small pond that was stocked with some of the beautiful rainbow trout. Since he wouldn't let anyone fish in the pond the fish had grown to be rather large. Mary times as I delivered papers to his home Brother Stephens would be out in the yard and he would put apples, pears, apricots, and cherries in my paper bag, when they were in season. I was instructed to take them home for mother and me to eat. Sometimes the fruit never made it home. Brother Stephens was a bachelor.- For some reason unknown to most of us he had never married. He did. have a housekeeper who did the cooking and did the washing and kept the house clean.. Once in a while Sister Daniels would greet me at the door and put goodies like cinnamon rolls, a fresh loaf of home made bread or even a pie and cake wrapped to take home. Some of that stuff never made it home either.
Once in a while I would put my bags and bicycle down and just stand at the edge of the pond with Brother Stephens and talk. One day, however, as I approached the house, Sister Daniels came to the door and told me that brother Stephens was very ill and wanted to see me. I put my paper bags and bicycle down and followed Sister Daniels into the house and then into his bedroom. There he was quite pale, and very ill, but smiling at me, as usual. He motioned to me to come and sit beside the bed where he could hold my hand. For about half an hour he talked to me about the importance of the Church. He had heard that I had recently been ordained a deacon and so he impressed upon me the importance cf magnifying my call and remaining true and faithful to the trust the Lord had placed upon me. For a young man it was an incredible spiritual experience. It was a moving experience for me then, and, as I reflect on it now, it still is now. He then told me how much confidence he had in me and made me promise that I would never let him down. Sister Daniels then escorted me to where my bicycle was and I continued on my route.
17
I learned the next day that Brother Stephens had died about twenty minutes after
I had left. Except for Sister Daniels, I was the last person to see and talk with him alive.
The memory of this great man has warmed my soul many times over the years.
At the time Sister Daniels told me of his passing she also said .that a poem had been found in his papers. She said she was sure that Brother Stephens would want me to have it. I was very appreciative to have something of his to keep. It is thought to be the last poem that he had composed.
Here is a transcription of the poem:
What? after all that thou bast done for me
What have I done, what have I done for thee?
After thy great and saving sacrifice,
Lord, am I worth so vast and great a price?
How have I served thee? Have my mind and heart Ever been ready to perform their part?
Gladly to praise thee and thy words revere,
And thy commandments ever held most dear.
What have I done e"en to the least of these? What have I done some woe or pain to ease
Of those who have labored in thy harassed name? Whom have spared from bitter grief and shame?
Whom from the darkness and the gloom of night Have I brought forth to see the blessed light
What after all that thou hast done for me
What have I done? What have I done for thine and thee
Thee I'll remember and thy sacrifice
Thee will I serve with all that in me lies
Morning and evening on my bended knees
To thee I’ll come and seek that sweet release
From earthly woes and from worldly sin, And in thy name ask God to let me in,
Into His kingdom there to dwell with thee
Thou Savior mine who bought and ransomed me
Evan Stephens
(Note: The current LDS Hymnbook lists 17 hymns with Evan Stevens responsible for the words, the music, or both, the most of any person listed.)
At the time Sister Daniels told me of his passing she also said .that a poem had been found in his papers. She said she was sure that Brother Stephens would want me to have it. I was very appreciative to have something of his to keep. It is thought to be the last poem that he had composed.
Here is a transcription of the poem:
What? after all that thou bast done for me
What have I done, what have I done for thee?
After thy great and saving sacrifice,
Lord, am I worth so vast and great a price?
How have I served thee? Have my mind and heart Ever been ready to perform their part?
Gladly to praise thee and thy words revere,
And thy commandments ever held most dear.
What have I done e"en to the least of these? What have I done some woe or pain to ease
Of those who have labored in thy harassed name? Whom have spared from bitter grief and shame?
Whom from the darkness and the gloom of night Have I brought forth to see the blessed light
What after all that thou hast done for me
What have I done? What have I done for thine and thee
Thee I'll remember and thy sacrifice
Thee will I serve with all that in me lies
Morning and evening on my bended knees
To thee I’ll come and seek that sweet release
From earthly woes and from worldly sin, And in thy name ask God to let me in,
Into His kingdom there to dwell with thee
Thou Savior mine who bought and ransomed me
Evan Stephens
(Note: The current LDS Hymnbook lists 17 hymns with Evan Stevens responsible for the words, the music, or both, the most of any person listed.)
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