COMING HOME: Happy Birthday Paul

At first, my dear husband said he didn't need a birthday blog. Can you imagine anyone passing up this opportunity? But when we started talking about his childhood and his fun memories, we both realized his history needed to be recorded for posterity ( and a few interested friends.)

He was born in San Bernardino, CA October 22, 1957. As the story goes, when he was a baby his family was living in an apartment in North Hollywood before they moved to Redlands. There was a fire in the building and he experienced smoke inhalation. Afterwards he struggled with croup and his parents spent many nights holding him in the bathroom with the steamy shower running.

Isn't this the most adorable face?

Cute, of course.

When Paul was a little boy he played in the neighborhood with his friend, Kenny. They played 3 flies up and touch and tackle football in Kenny's yard. Paul played basketball with his brothers and ping-pong on the homemade family table made out of a plywood sheet on a picnic table. He also liked to shoot BB guns into the playhouse and explore the sankey ( I don't know how to spell this because I can't find it in the dictionary; it was a small aqueduct) for adventure and wild raspberries.

Paul's pets were horned toads, lizards, a tortoise and a skunk. The tortoise they found in the desert. It was brought home and introduced to its new habitat in the rose garden. It crawled back and forth eating the flowers for years. The skunk came from Loma Linda University. It had been de-scented. Paul had to feed it cod liver oil since its oil glands had been removed. This helped the skunk's skin stay moisturized. It lived in a cage and always made a mess when Paul fed him. Paul solved this problem by lining the bottom with tin foil. One day Paul found his skunk dead with some tin foil shavings nearby. The moral of the story is don't eat tin foil.

We still use this awesome Native American costume.
Paul made a super duper head dress out of feathers with YMCA Indian Guides.
Location alert for posterity: It's in the garage in a cylindrical bin.

Sixth grade was a year of accidents for Paul. On his 11th birthday he cut his finger at his BD party. He was carving a pumpkin, his hand slipped on the knife and zzzzt. His big brother applied direct pressure on the wound before Paul went to the Dr. Paul remembers the pressure as the most painful part of the ordeal. He broke his arm 2 times, once was while playing Red-Rover. (It figures, that's a dangerous game.) When he was playing dodge ball in the backyard during family night, he hit the clothesline t-bar with his head. The game ended, and the emergency room became the activity. When he was riding his bike (with not very good brakes) he lost control, ran into a bush, flipped and put his teeth through his lower lip. And he sprained his ankle in PE during dodge ball. On a related topic, but different year, he wanted to see how many lengths he could swim under water in the neighbor's pool. He swam four lengths and then passed out. Luckily his Dad was there to rescue him from the bottom of the pool. Don't try this at home.

Paul was the only boy at his church group from age 11-16. He went to scouts with another unit and met his friend, Rob Chappel. They had great scouting adventures with Rob's Dad as scout master. They also had some unofficial adventures that involved chemicals, explosions and something about an arc furnace. Interestingly enough, Paul went on to become a chemist and Rob an electrical engineer.

When I asked Paul if he'd ever been in a fight he said, "Once." Apparently "Byron, the bully" had been picking on him all year so Paul said, "Meet me after school." Paul was waiting, Byron walked out. Paul punched him. Byron fell down. Paul didn't know what to do next so he went home. Byron didn't pick on him again.

Paul went to the Kingsbury elementary school in Redlands, CA. When that school closed he was transferred to Kimberly elementary. He didn't want to ride the bus, so rode his bike to school every day. The ride took 35 minutes. He could either go the long way or the short way and face the dogs and the hill. It was cold in the winter so he wore a hat in the morning. Of course he took it off when it warmed up. He lost every hat his mom gave him. He estimated he lost 12-14 hats.

Paul's Dad took Paul and his siblings to Bishop, CA twice a year when he had cases there. He gave the kids some money and they would go to town and buy comic books and postcards. After he was done working, they all went fishing on Sabrina Lake. Dad spent the time baiting the hook and untangling the lines. Apparently Cathy caught the most fish. They had a friend there that took them coyote hunting with squealing rabbit calls, and hunting for arrowheads. Once they were fishing off the dam and Cathy's pole fell over the edge. Paul had been working on his Pioneering merit badge and had rope in the car. He tied his rope to the railing, let himself down over the dam, retrieved the pole in the freezing water and saved the day.

Paul's chores were mowing the lawn, trimming the bushes, picking up rotten apples, and gathering avacadoes and delivering them the the neighbors. I also recall that he did the dishes at least once, because he ate all his sister's sugar cookies that she had made for school while he was working in the kitchen. He had his first job when he was 11. He sold eggs for Arno's egg farm. When he was 12 he mowed all the neighbor's lawns and took care of their animals when they were on vacation. At 15 he worked for a miniature golf course and batting cage. His last 2 years of high school he worked as a life guard. He even pulled a guy out of the pool and gave him mouth to mouth resuscitation.

In High School, Paul's sports were water polo and swimming. He wanted to learn the butterfly, but his brother wouldn't teach him. He learned the stroke from a book-"The Science of Swimming" by Doc Councilman. This began his journey. He has learned countless sports skills from his vast sports books collection.

Paul graduated from Redlands High School and attended BYU-Provo. He played on the water polo team with his brother, Don, who recalled "Paul played the hole, and I played goalie. There were 3 sets of brothers on the team."

He went on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to Quebec, Canada.

After his mission he returned to BYU and spent his summers on the Colorado River where he worked for Western River Expeditions.

Then he met me:)

And he grew a stellar mustache. And we had some babies.

Dodgeball.
Trying to look hard core.
Brandon and Becca not so much.

And he played with them and gave them books so they could learn sports and supported them and loved them and has been a wonderful father and husband.

One good thing about this blog post is that I asked Paul to look for his High School scrapbook, which he didn't find. But he did find letters his parents had written while he was serving his mission. They have since passed, so it was like a "Happy Birthday Paul" from his mom and dad who love him. Since this is a history I would like to include these letters:

Dear Paul,

President Owens was thoughtful to give us an opportunity to write to you in his care and to express our love to you at this season of the year when we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, our Saviour. We are proud that you re serving as His messenger to bring the Gospel of Eternal Life to those who are waiting to hear it. President Hansen said he was impressed when he set you apart that you would be a good missionary and I feel that he was prophetic. The Gospel is true. By living its principles, we can change ourselves so that we can become like Jesus, a Celestial person.

At the risk of making you homesick, we want to tell you that we miss you. Life is always brighter and livelier when you are near. Even as a very young person, you were cheerful and happy. Because of your optimism, I used to say that you thought life was a "bowl of cherries". We had many happy times together here at home and on trips. We enjoyed our frequent excursions to Bishop and to Utah. We enjoyed swimming at pools and at the beaches; fishing at Bishop and at Yellowstone; sight-seeing and camping at Bishop, Conway Summit, Yosemite, Death Valley, Grand Canyon, Kolob, Escalante, Yellowstone, Glacier Park, Canada's Banff, Vancouver and Victoria, and Mexico's Angel Camp; visiting cities and resorts in Utah and California.

We are proud of your accomplishments, among them: serving in Priesthood leadership positions as President and assistant group leader in your quorums; serving in the Scouting program as Den Chief, Patrol Leader and Senior Patrol Leader and achieving the rank of Eagle; playing the trumpet and the French horn in the school band; developing athletic prowess in swimming, water polo, basketball and skiing; completing two years of college with high grades; establishing a well-deserved reputation for being a good worker; living so that you were worthy to go on a mission.

You hold a cherished place in the hearts of your brothers and sisters. I think you are Cathy's best friend.

While we re proud of what you have done and appreciate you as a fine son, we love you for yourself. We are thankful for you and ask the Lord's blessings upon you and upon your work.

Dad

Dear Son Paul W.

The house is as quiet as a mouse except for Dad and myself. So one's thoughts go back to all the wonderful years we had you with us.

Your first Christmas found you only two months old, and what a happy little fellow you were. Just beginning to smile and watch everyone, but all you wanted was to eat and sleep.

We all have had some fun times over the years putting you back to bed don't know how many times, making you eat before the presents were opened, trying to take snaps and all the funny faces you made. So we will miss you, but our thoughts are always far away with you.

Christmas is a time of giving and that is what you are doing, giving the gospel to the people who want to hear it. May the Lord bless you with health and strength to do this work. I pray he will keep you safe. Merry Christmas dear son Elder Paul W.

Your loving mother, J.W.S.

In response to the question, "What would be your dying message to your children?" Paul said, "The Church is true. Life's too short to not be happy. Do the things that bring you joy. Play with your children and take care of your mother."