Happy Birthday Donald Dean Stoker (My Father-In-Law)

Don Stoker was born April 20, 1919 and died Oct. 13, 2003.  When my nephew, David, was on his mission in 2000, my father-in-law wrote him a series of letters that were essentially a personal history.  I'm so thankful we have these letters so we can know him better.  Since today is his birthday, I'm posting these letters with some additions. 

"Like Nephi, I was born of goodly parents (Sarah Nelson and John Hogan Stoker) in Bountiful, Ut ( a town of about 3,000 people)   I was born in my parent’s home, in a breech birth.  The doctor had to spank me to get me to breathe.  My mother said, “Oh, He is crying.”  The Doctor said, “If you knew how hard it was to get him to cry you wouldn’t mind the crying.”  Mother suggested my first name, Donald.  My brother Del contributed my second name.  I was called “Dean” until  9 yrs. old and then called “Don” at own request.

John Hogan Stoker

Sarah Nelson

Donald Dean Stoker age 4

[My father’s cousin, David Tolman was the principal of Stoker school.]  Once he called me into his office for fighting.  A friend of mine was in a little fight and I cheered him on.  His opponent’s brother objected to my action and took a poke at me.  I responded in kind.”

[The Stoker school was named after] David Stoker [who] was my grandfather.  Both he and his father were Bishops.  The Bountiful Tabernacle is just across from the school building.  He took part in constructing the tabernacle and his name is on a “Pioneer” plaque attached to the building.  I was baptized in the font.  We lived several blocks away to the north of the building.  When the house was first built there was no running water.  Water was obtained from a well behind the house.  The house was heated by a pot bellied stove in the living room.  The job of my brother, Wayne was to cut the kindling to start the fire.  My job was to bring in a bucket of coal from the “coal shed”  In order to have hot water we would start a fire in the kitchen stove which had chamber for water.  As I understand it we were about the first family in town to have such a stove.  By that time city water had been piped to our house.  Incidentally, my father was about the first person in town to own an automobile.  One of the first cars, an oldsmobile, was in a little garage on the property.  I never saw it run. 

In the back yard, we planted a vegetable garden.  A little stream of water ran through our property on the west.  We used to play in the creek (pronounced ‘crick”)  Inside the house there was an “ice box”  A man would deliver a block of ice to put in it about once a week. 

My Mother, Sarah Nelson Stoker would lead us in family prayer.

 My childhood until the age of nine was happy.  At that time my father John Stoker died of heart and kidney failure.  Before that my father was not home.  He was a travelling shoe salesman.  Before I was born my grandfather, father and others owned a general store in Bountiful, UT called the Bountiful Co-op which burned and was under insured, a serious omission.  The successor store, “Stoker Brothers” was opened with my father as manager, but too much credit was extended to buyers and the store went bankrupt.  For a couple years before Father’s death he opened a little department store in Ogden entitled “Everybody’s Store.” He would take the Bangerter railroad train to Ogden Monday morning early and get home late Saturday night.  At least once he let Wayne and me separately go up with him and stay for a few days.  

   

We were planning to move to Ogden but about that time my Father became ill with heart trouble from which he did not recover.  After that we had a struggle financially.  Mother had never worked for a living. We had an interest in my grandfather’s home and our home.   Mother took in boarders.   Within a year after my father’s death my sister Mabel married Sherman Smith a childhood sweetheart.  The marriage did not last mainly for financial reasons.  My sister Mabel worked as a secretary in Salt Lake and helped to support us.  Finally, she got tired of the commute and we sold both homes and moved to Salt Lake.  We lived at the Kensington Apts. near the State Capitol.  To help pay the rent we advertised for boarders.  Percy Jerald Gaisford was one.  He later married Mabel and took her to LA to live. 

 We moved into a small apartment.   Mother sold women’s underwear door to door and was a cook in a restaurant, “The Doll House”  Moving was traumatic for me.  I left a small town, that was home, for a big city where everything was strange.  Since my old school was advanced I was considered to be a good student in his new school, which changed my self image and life. 

We attended the 17^th ward.  President McKay and family were in the ward.  Nicholas G. Smith was the Bishop.  He later gave me my patriarchal blessing.

(When Don was in High School, he was editor of the school newspaper, a member of Student Council, Debating club, Glee Club, and Cosmopolitan Club. 

High School Senior

 He attended the University of UT and graduated with a BA in Political Science.) 

(After graduating he served in the U.S. Army Air Force as a sergeant.)

While in the military service, I not only learned discipline but I had a good time.  My job in the service was “Link Trainer Instructor.” The Link Trainer was a box-like miniature airplane big enough for a pilot to enter.  It had flight instruments in it.  At that time the nation was covered with radio beams.  If the plane was on one side of the beam, the pilot received the signal for an “A”.  If on the other side of the beam, he received the signal for an “N”  If on the beam, he received a solid sound.  On the desk in front of the trainer was a diagram of the beams with a tracking wheel which traveled on the diagram.  If the wheel was on one side of the beam, I gave the pilot the appropriate signal.  I taught the pilot how to follow the signals so that he could fly on instruments until he could see the ground to land the plane.  Simulated flight planes are much more complicated today.  I enjoyed the work. 

My turn came to take a furlough (a vacation from the service.)  Ten days plus travel time of several days to UT from Columbia, South Carolina, where the base was located.  I went over to Base Headquarters and asked if any plane was going west.  “Yes,” said the officer in charge.  There is a plane on the flight line going to California.  I’ll call the pilot and ask him to wait for you.

I hurried back to the barracks and packed my duffel bag.  It was pay day and I had not been paid.  I borrowed $10 from a buddy.  I returned to the flight line.  The Sergeant at the Base Headquarters handed me a parachute.  One could not fly without having a parachute.  I was on my way.  After one stop, probably in New Mewxico I was taken to Burbank.  I took a bus to Los Angeles where I was met by my sister Mabel Gaisford and her husband, Percy.  They put me on a night train to Salt Lake City, loaning me the fare which was about $25.

After the visit, I went up the Clearfield near Ogden where there was an Air Force Base to get a ride back to my Base.  I first got a ride to Lowry Field in Denver.  There was a B-17 Bomber on the runway ready to go.  I asked the Sergeant at Base Headquarters if there  was a plane going to the East.  He said, “Yes, to South Carolina, but you are not gone on the plane.  We do not have a parachute for you and you would have to get permission from the Ferry Command .  The plane I had left South Carolina in was in a hangar for repairs, and I picked up my parachute which was on it.  I returned to South Carolina two days ahead of the expiration of the furlough time.

I spent two other furloughs in New York City.  On one trip, I got a ride from South Carolina in Long Island.  While in New York I stayed at the Y.M.C.A. for $.50 a night.  New York was a wonderful place to visit.  There was a place for servicemen called, “The Stage Door Cantina.”  There I received free passes to Broadway plays.  I did pay $3.00 to see “Oklahoma.”  I had a free meal at a hotel.  I received a pass to attend a dance sponsored by the “Women’s Shoe Maker Union.” 

When my furlough time was about up, I went to the Holland Tunnel to hitchhike back to South Carolina.  After several rides, I arrived back at the Base.  On one ride, I was picked up by a truck driver and he let me nap on his bunk inside the truck behind the cab.

I had additional furloughs.  On one, I took a train trip to Utah by way of Chicago and return.  On additional trips, I continued to hitchhike plane rides on military planes.

Many other benefits came from my service in the military.  I went to law school on the “G.I. Bill.”  Also, the Veteran’s Administration financed two homes, one in North Hollywood and one in Redlands.  In both cases the interest was very low. 

I was discharged from the Service at a Base in North Carolina.  I didn’t try to get a plane ride home.  Most plane crashes occurred in Winter when the weather was bad.  I decided to hitchhike at least part of the way home.  In my wallet was my severance pay.  Discharged Servicemen were given a patch to wear on the uniform.  I took mine off so that any person picking me up would not know that I was carrying several hundred dollars in my wallet.

On one ride I was picked up by two service men.  I didn’t volunteer the information as to where I was going.  One of the service men asked the other, “Where is  he going?”  The other said, “I don’t know.  He just seems to be happy to be going.”

I received rides to the mid-west, probably Nebraska.  I then took a train to Salt Lake City for a service man’s special rate of $25.  While I was in the Army in South Carolina I had a buddy named “Henry Stokers” who studied law books on his own.  I decided I would study law and upon my return to Salt Lake City I went to the University of Utah to see Dean Leary of the Law School.  He said he would admit me.  At that time the school was on a Quarter System.  On Dec. 10, 1945, I enrolled in the school for the Second Quarter of the First Year Law Course.  When Test Week came, I was utterly confused and unprepared for the tests.  A classmate, Norman Nielsen, from Idaho, whom I did not even know asked me if I wanted to study with him.  “Of course,” I said.  They pounded the material into me so that I understood it.  I was able to take the test and pass.  One member of the group got some “D’s” and quit law school.  I was blessed that I was offered help to take the test and pass.

While I was in Law School I studied day and night.  My wife Jeanne couldn’t spend much time with me.  While I was going to Law School we were married.  This is how we met:  In South Carolina, I went to church at the branch and met Jeanne’s sister, Margaret (Peggy) Coombs and her husband Melvin.  He was then stationed at nearby Fort Jackson.  Once on a furlough in Salt Lake City, I went to a public dance hall, “The Rainbow Rendezvous.”  Jeanne was there on a date with Glenn Cornwall whom Jeanne had known in England on his mission and whom I had known in South Carolina when he was a “G.I.” there.  I subsequently dated Jeanne.  She sent me a “care package” full of goodies in the course of our war time correspondence.  After the War on August 27, 1947, we were married.  In those days, Agnes, Jeanne’s mother, could not go to the temple because her husband, Robert Wallace, was not a member.  We were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple on March 27, 1947.We lived in the Barbara Worth Apartments in South Temple in Salt Lake City.

Barbara Stallings, Peggy Wallace, Jeanne Wallace Stoker, Don, Charles Pollai (Don's best friend)

Jeanne and Don with their mothers Agnes Watson Wallace and Sarah Nelson Stoker

Honeymoon at sister's house

Honeymoon at Redland's bowl

I studied for the Utah Bar examination and was admitted to the Bar on June 6, 1949, just before graduation ceremonies on June 10. 

Don graduated with honors.  He was 3rd in his class of 40.  He was
elected to Phi Kappa Phi Honors Society.

 I immediately went to the University of San Francisco to study for the California Bar examination.  The class was held at night.  To earn some money, I applied for a job with the State of California.  I was given the job of “Agricultural Inspector,” but my duties consisted of typing grain certificates (certifying the grain had been inspected and had passed inspection).  After I passed the California Bar, I was unable to get a job in a law office.  I went to work in Sacramento for the State as a Deputy Legislative Counsel helping to prepare proposed legislation.  I quit that job to return to Utah for the first of several hernia operations.

I returned to California where a friend, Robert Davies, told me there was an opening at the State Compensation Insurance Fund as an attorney defending cases filed by injured employees for benefits under the law.  I was hired by Edward Gibbons who was in charge of the office.

At the time the cost of housing was determined by the Federal Government.  During the War all effort went into preparing for War.  Housing was scarce and a prospective buyer had to pay “under the table”, money which was in addition to the price set for housing.  My sister, Mabel, and her husband Frank lived on Rampart Boulevard in Los Angeles.  The landlord was Mr. Opun.  A vacancy occurred in the apartment and because he liked Mabel, when a vacancy occurred he let Jeanne and me move in without making “under the table” payments.  I worked first for the State Compensation Insurance Fund and later as a Deputy Attorney General under Pat Brown who later became Governor.  I took a Civil Service examination for a job as Referee of the Industrial Accident Commission (later designated as Worker’s Compensation Judge of the Workers Compensation Appeals Board). I had been receiving $295 a month.  The new job paid about $1,000.  One reason I took the job was that I knew the Board was going to open an office in San Bernardino.  I wanted to get out in the “country” out of the heavy traffic and where there was less traveling.  It was then that we moved to Redlands, about 10 miles from San Bernardino, in October 1956. 

 We went to church in Redlands in what was formerly a Mortuary.  A church member, Nadine, helped us look for a place to live.  The house we lived in on Esther Way was for sale.  The tract houses were not moving very fast and the tract owners let us move in without buying.  The rent we paid was later considered as part of the purchase price and when we did buy the house, it took only about $50 to take title.  We got another “G.I.” loan.  We paid about $16,000.

We are thankful for our wonderful family.  Jeanne became pregnant with John while I was working in San Francisco.  He was born in the L.D.S. Hospital in Salt Lake City because we had Blue Cross insurance.  Donald was born while we were living on Rampart Blvd and Good Samaritan Hospital.  Paul was born in St. Bernardine’s Hospital in San Bernardino.  I was sick with the flu and couldn’t go the hospital to be with Jeanne."

That is the end of Don's letters and notes about his personal history.  There is so much more to tell, but I'll just mention a few things.  He enjoyed fishing, reading, and writing.  His children have fond memories of going to Bishop, CA where their Dad worked in the morning and then took the kids fishing when he was done. 

 He taught his children to box with real boxing gloves.

Don was famous for "money scrambles" where he threw all his pocket change onto the floor and the kids would grab all they could for their own pockets.  This tradition was shared with his grandchildren too.

He had a high backed chair in the living room next to a reading lamp with a stack of 5-8 books of all kinds that he was constantly reading. He enjoyed "The New Yorker" magazine and made sure his grown children had subscriptions to the magazines of their choice.  Our Readers Digest kept coming even after he died.   Don also loved BYU education week.  He never stopped learning.

He held many callings in the church including Sunday School Superintendant, Stake missionary, Counselor in the Bishopric and High Councilor

Don was a dedicated article clipper and sender.  I thought it was funny that he faithfully sent newspaper articles on proper grammar.  I supposed he was preparing us for a writing career, but I understand now that he enjoyed writing and wanted to share the skills he had learned with us.   He took several creative writing classes .  This is a sample of one of his autobiographical stories:

                                        Sunday Revolt

     "You will dry those dishes," my mother said.  "I want it done now, before it is time to go to Sunday School."

      "I hate dishes," I said.  "I hate drying them.  I don't want to do it.  Why doesn't Wayne have to do them?"

       My brother Wayne was three years older than my none years and it seemed to me he did not do anything which could be called work.

       "Dean," said my mother without raising her voice, "Drying the dishes is your job and that is all there is to it."

        "Do as your mother says," came my father's quiet voice from the living room where he sat in his Morris chair, reading the Sunday newspapers.  He did not ordinarily concern himself with disciplinary matters but left them to my mother.  His words were hardly audible and id not impress me.

         "We'll see who is going to dry the dishes,"  I said to myself, and as soon as my mother left the kitchen for amoment, I threw down the dishtowel and scooted out the kitchen door, into the yard.  I didn't stop running until I was out of sight of the house.

      "It isn't fair for her to make me do the kitchen work all the time," I thought.  "I think I'll just go away.  Mother will miss me when I'm gone.  She will come to the bed to kiss me goodnight tonight and the bed will be empty.  She'll feel sad then and sorry she was mean to me."

      My mother was a kind lady, kind but firm.  She never shouted at me, nagged me, scolded me or spanked me, but she wouldn't stand for any nonsense.  When I misbehaved, she would thump me on the head with her thimble-covered finger.  She seemed always to be sewing.

       "Who will bring your glass of water to you at night, mother,"  I said to no one present.  Mother was frequently thirsty at night and always liked me to put a glass of water on the night stand near her bed.  It miraculously never capsized or spilled.  I sauntered on down to "the crick."  That is what we called the small creek which ran through the block behind our back yard.  It was not over seven inches deep and three or four feet wide.  The place was a fine one for hiding. The willows grew abundantly and when we were not using them to hide in, we were cutting them down to make thatched huts.  The creek itself was lined with fine sand wonderful for building castles or cities on the banks.  At that moment I did not feel much like building thatched huts of sand cities.  I felt too sorry for myself.  I mashed down some willows and made myself a bed of them.  I lay on them in the sun for some time and watched the bees collecting nectar from the dandelions that grew in a grassy stretch near the creek.

      "It must be time now for Sunday School," I said to myself.  I wondered if mother and Wayne had gone.  Dad did not usually go, just puttered with his car.

      As I lay there, I pulled one of the dandelions which had gone to seed and blew on it to see if I could dispatch every tufted seed with one blow.  I could and id.  I blew on dandelions for a time.

      When I got tired of lying in the sun and blowing on dandelions, I took out my knife and cut a willow to make a whistle.  I cut around the willow, slipped off the bark, carved the whistle, and then put the bark on for a cover.  I made a fine whistle.

      I felt hungry and knew it must be past noon.  By now Sunday School was over and the family was home.  Mother would be getting dinner.  She would be wondering where I was.  Pride would not let me go home.

      "I'll show her for being so mean to me," I thought.  "She is going to miss me more before I go home."

     By now I felt like playing in the creek.  I made a little dam in it and with my knife cut some sections of willow and made a boat dock, tying the sections together with strips of willow bark.  I then made rafts and boats.

     The afternoon passed by pleasantly.  After a time I no longer felt particularly hungry.  Then the warm sun began to be obscured by clouds.  A summer thunderstorm was on its way and soon I was pelted with rain.  I ran through the thicket of willows, climbed over the backyard fence, and headed for the house.  My mother was standing in the doorway.

        "Don Stoker, you get in here this minute," she ordered.  "Where have you been?  I have been worried about you."

     Before I could answer I heard my father's houseslippers padding down the hall into the kitchen.

         "Alright, young man, I want to have a little talk with you.  March right into the bathroom."

      "Why the bathroom?" I asked myself, but I responded with alacrity.

       "Now," he said, "take down your pants."

      I did as I was told.  From behind my father's back, he brought forth a piece of packing crate, a section of hardwood about four feet long, two inches wide, and one inch thick.  I began to holler, "Don't hit me!  Don't hit me!"  The tears began to flow and I shook with surprise and fright.  I could already feel the smart left by the wood on my posterior.

     "If I let you go, will you promise to help your mother with the dishes whenever she asks?"

      "Yes! Yes!" I promised.

      "Very well, I"ll let you go this time, but if it ever happens again, I'll tan your hide."

      A few minutes later, before the tears were completely dried, my father said, "Here is fifty cents.  The rain has stopped.  Go over the the Three Corners Drive In and buy us all a quart of "orange creamo" ice cream.  And I did.

A thousand to one.

So a few weeks ago I was at my Total Body Conditioning class with Lois and I noticed this little girl (as in cute sized adult) just goin' at it a few rows away from me.  She was working about twice as hard as I was.  It was like she wanted to do the most she could do, and I wanted to do the least I could do.  (Saving my strength and all.)  A couple weeks went by, and then I realized I knew her from church.  She was that pretty new girl with the 2 cute kids who I thought, "How nice that she was born looking so fantastic."  Is it possible that she looks fantastic because she has put in the time and effort?  Weird.  It was like that memorable day when I realized my friend's house was cleaner then mine because she cleaned more.  (I'm a thinker, I know.) A friend of our family always gives my kids life advice when he's sees them.  The last time he saw my daughter he asked her if she had practiced that week.  Then he said, "There was an athlete named "Pistol Pete.  A little boy came up to him and said, "Pistol Pete, I want to be like you."  Pistol Pete's response was "Where's your ball?  If you're going to be like me, you have to practice like me."  I guess the bottom line is for every glamorous moment there are about 1,000 very sweaty unglamorous moments.  My daughter can play the piano, but it's not magic.  The truth is she practices, a lot, like even on weekends.  When my nephew tried out for a musical group in college and made it, it looked like a cinch.  It was a cinch because he had been singing for years, in jazz choir, church, men's singers and had worked at a cafe to pay for his own voice lessons.  So when we hear ourselves say, "I wish I could sing, play the guitar, play basketball, dance, organize, draw, get my degree... we can.  We just need to be prepared to sweat for 1,000 minutes.

Baby girl always wears an apron when she means business.

Spring Break-We needed that.

I know nobody feels sorry for us in the south with our Winter Break in February and Spring Break in April, but let me tell ya.  It was getting brutal around here.  Gabe needs to read 4 books by May 6, complete 3 Social Studies packets and record the moon for a month (an excruciating form of bondage).  Andrew is trying to hold on to his grades while Lacrosse season claims hours of his life daily.  I've never heard of a college reneging on an acceptance but there's always a first time.  Rebecca has a million good things going, 1/2 of which I can't even remember. I felt like we were limping along, trying to be at the right place in the right time, and not doing anything really well.  And you know what else?  Our April weather was cold, like 30's cold.  This is the south.  I can drive 5 1/2 hrs. to the Gulf of Mexico.  Doesn't that mean warmness?  Well, I guess ya can't boss the weather.  "Why does global warming always happen to me?" (It's a facebook meme.)   Spring Break couldn't get here soon enough.  The funny thing is, we didn't even have any plans. We almost went to FL to visit my sister, but had to keep Rebecca out of the sun because of a mole removal. So stayed in GA which was brilliant since there wasn't any sun..

 We had some loose plans, "Well, I could take Gabe camping" from Paul,  and "We could see some of the sights of Georgia" from me, but no one would commit.  And guess what?  The week turned out splendidly.

Day 1 The house was quiet.  Productive occupants dispersed themselves throughout the house.

Paul taking notes on a book he's reading.

Rebecca catching up on her journal.

OK, this room has no productive occupant because this occupant
was in Destin, FL trying  not be productive.   

Reading Star Wars.  Getting so close to the reading goal.

And I was at Target buying 50% off Easter Candy.
 It was on my "to do" list so we'll count it as productive.

Day 2 was off the chains.  Actually it was a bit of a dream for everyone.  Gabe played with a friend from school, and then his lifelong friend from AL came to visit.  Can you say heaven?

Rebecca cleaned the bathroom cupboard (that was a dream for me) and then figured out the guitar tabs for the lullaby from "Goin'to Zion."  (That was a dream for her.)

Tuesday's my temple day, and I went and came home before anyone needed me.

Day 4 we enjoyed our company from Alabama.  Paul didn't have/get to go camping because it was rainy and cold so we watched "American Idol" for our activity.  If you watched it, you saw Nicki Minaj ask Amber if she could borrow her jeans.  Rebecca said, "Can I borrow your jeans?  I have some pots and pans I need to wash."  If you don't watch "Idol" I respect you, but you might not understand Rebecca's comment, and it did kind of crack me up.

Thursday was wild and crazy.  Paul and Gabe practiced their shot while Rebecca practiced the organ at the church.

And I got my haircut.  The exciting thing about this is that I went to Great Clips so it only cost me 20 bucks.  I have a sad and ongoing hair dilemma.  My hair almost always looks...how to describe it?...well, lets just say, aesthetically challenged.  I've paid a lot for a cut because I was that desperate, but it didn't look that much better.  I have a regular stylist that is in the medium range, but by the time my hair hits the humidity no one can even tell I'd tried.  When I went to "Great Clips" my expectations were completely low.  As a matter of  fact, I was having a slight anxiety attack while I waited.  But then, it wasn't horrible, and the price was right, so I think I'll probably go there again.

That night we had some very fun friends over for games and a movie.  We played Perudo, a Stoker favorite. It's the dice game they play on Pirates of the Carribean.  We also played Luck of the Draw. 

  You draw the subject (with a pencil and paper) and then draw the judging category (as in draw a card).  Get it?  2 kinds of draw... anyway,  we had a few standouts:

These are some excellent noses.

  My favorite comment was when a player looked at this picture and said, "That's a weird rug."  I believe he was referring to the toilet, which is an exact replica, obviously.

This is a bathroom

And we ate some treats.  This was all that was left of a big bowl of white chocolate covered bugles and popcorn which didn't stand a chance. It was so delicious. 

This is a blog and these are the refreshments

Friday is almost always date night for Paul and I.  We changed it up a bit since Paul and Gabe wanted to go to the dollar to see "Hobbit" and Rebecca and I did not share that desire.  Off they went and Rebecca and I

had a night on the town, or more like the neighborhood.  We went to the local Mexican Restaurant and got the most delicious chips and salsa anywhere and took some selfies.  (OK I need a little practice.)

Our joy at having procured said chips and salsa.

Nos gustamos muchos

And then that awkward moment when we tried to watch TV without any boys around to work the remotes.  We knew how to watch movies, but we were trying to find Thursday's Idol from recorded TV land.  Verrry difficult, but we thought and experimented and finally met success.  Phew, that was a close one.  We almost didn't sit in front of the screen for 2 hours.

Saturday was the start of General Conference.  That means the Prophet and Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints speak to the world in five 2 hr. sessions.  It's a great day, especially for adults.  I always go online for any ideas of ways to help those with a still developing "listening to church" capacity so they can enjoy the experience more.  We've played conference Bingo and colored the speaker's ties on paper.  My kids are not young any more, but a little variety doesn't hurt.  On Pinterest someone had the idea of a different snack for each apostle that spoke.  That's 15 snacks in two days.  We didn't eat all the snacks, but it was fun hearing my family say, "When can we eat the cookies?"  "I hope it's Elder Perry.  He has the peanuts."  Okay, no one was that excited about the carrots, but I felt good about them.

Then we got our boy back from Florida and all the handsome men went off to Priesthood Meeting.  (Rebecca and I went to our special meeting for girls last Saturday.)

And Rebecca and I played on Family Tree.  Y'all should try it.  It's a blast.  

And then Sunday was fantastic and then today we (as in my children) went to school rested, relaxed and ready to face down the last 8 weeks.  I think we're going to make it.  

Happy Birthday Mom!

When I was 8 years old, my mom's mom passed away.  I have some fond memories of her, and periodically my mom would ask me, "What do you remember about my mother?"  I kind of wondered why she always asked me that until now.  My mom is totally alive, but I still have a desire for my children to know my mother.  Whenever these people who are most dear to me are together my heart sings.  Well, today is my mom's birthday and I have designed this post so my children can know my mom, not just as a Grandma in her 70's but as a beautiful, young Janet Miner.

Janet was born April 5, 1936 in Salt Lake City, UT.  Her parents were Max Edward Miner who was born April 20, 1911 in Draper, UT and Christina Gregerson who was born Dec. 7, 1909 in St. George, UT.  She had an older brother, Alan Edward who was 2 years older.

Clearly we have some modification in this photo.  Sorry Alan.

In 1940 Christina and Max were divorced.  Janet and Alan missed their father terribly.  In Jan 1942 Christina (Christie) married Vernon Pehrson Fawson who was born 15 Sept. 1906 in Grantsville, UT. Vern said that Alan and Janet were wonderful, beautiful children.  Christie, Alan, and Janet left their life in the city and moved to the farm  in Grantsville, UT.   Christy and Vern had 3 more children, Donald Eric,   and twins, Deana Lynn and David Vernon.

Janet and Alan

Alan, Deana, Christina, Don, Vern, David, Janet

Max remarried April 10, 1942.  He married Faires Sampson who was born June 2, 1915 in Delta, UT.  They had 3 children of their own:  Nancy Miner, Kay Miner, and Dale Edward born March 8, 1952 who died Feb. 21, 1980.

Faires Sampson

Max Miner

Nancy, Dale, Kay

Janet felt close to both families and was treated wonderfully by all.  She lived with Vern and Christie, but Max and Faires came to visit in Grantsville, and she and Alan visited them in Salt Lake.  She loved all her brothers and sisters dearly and was blessed in all these relationships.  I grew up having 3 sets of grandparents who loved us.  Christie died Oct. 21, 1967.  My mom was still having children.  When a new baby (or babies) came,  Faires (Nana) came to help and care for us.

Janet spent her girlhood in the town of Grantsville.  There were a couple of memories recorded in the histories written about Christie and Vern.  Mom only remembered being spanked 3 times in her life.  Two of those were for lying.  Her mother really tried to impress upon her the importance of being honest.  Once Vern heard that she was out with a boy that he disapproved of.  He went up to the "Bluebird"  (a soda shop) tand brought her home.   She wasn't happy but knew he did it because he was concerned about her.   She enjoyed riding horses and going "up the canyon."

Janet's High School

This is the church Janet attended as a girl.

Janet and Rob Miller held their wedding reception here.

I asked Mom's siblings to share memories or comments about Janet, since they knew her before I did.  I have to say, I really enjoyed being in contact with these aunts and uncles again.  They were warm and complimentary.  I believe that is a reflection of the love they have for Mom.

ALAN- She was my best friend.  When I was 5 and she was 3 our parents were divorced.  Our mom went to work and we had to go to the babysitter, but we had each other to keep us from being lonely.

As we grew older we comforted and counselled each other through hard teenage years.  She would come to me to talk about boys she had a crush on or girls who hurt her feelings.  

When she was at BYU she ran for Vice President of summer school.  She won the election.  She served with Orrin Hatch who was elected President.

DON- Although 7 years older, Janet was a very good big sister!  She would tend me a lot.  I always loved her and felt she was so good to me.  I remember her riding the derek horse to help put the hay on the stack in the summer time.

She  was kind and caring even when she was going to high school.  Looking back I must have been in the way.  Janet was (and still is) beautiful.  She had lots of dates.

She and Alan would help Mother get me neat stuff for Christmas.

I loved going to see her in the summers when she worked at Bryce Canyon as a waitress.  That was our family vacation.

We also would go see her and Alan on many Sundays at BYU.  Mother and Dad would take them things to eat.

We were very close as a family and I still think so very much of Janet, Rob and their family.  They are very special to me.

DEANA- When Janet was 10, Mother had David and I.  Mother always said how much Janet helped take care of the twins as best she could.  She couldn't have done it without her.  

I always looked up to Janet.  I used to sit and watch her get ready for a date.  She always looked nice and still does.  I always felt her testimony strongly.  When I got married, my husband and I wanted to follow the prophet in our home the way Rob and Janet did.  

She was the first one married in the temple and she got her education.  This set a good example for the rest of us who followed her.

Janet is tenderhearted and compassionate.  She never wants to hurt anyone or make them feel slighted,  When I would take my girls to California to visit there was always a welcome note and a can of nuts by the bed.  

She always loved babies and makes quilts for her grandchildren.

She always supported her husband in his church callings and accepted callings extended to her even though she had 10 children.

There was no difference in the family.  I never felt that she was my half sister.  She was my sister.

I love her with all my heart.  I'm amazed at her faith and all that she's been through and accomplished.

DAVID- I was the little brother, but she was always very kind and made me feel important.  She entered me in to a baby contest, and had birthday parties for us.  She cared for us and liked us a lot.

When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, I got hit by a car.  Janet took over the house so my mom could stay with me in the hospital.  If she hadn't stayed with me I would have died.  There was a man named Daniel who had broken his leg who would yell and scare me.  It was very important that I had my mom there.

When Janet was home from BYU she introduced us to pizza. She had learned about it from "The Brick Oven" in Provo. At first I thought it smelled like throw-up, but when I tried it, it was good, and we've been eating pizza ever since.

We were always proud of Janet and Alan at BYU.  We went to visit them on weekends.We played shuffleboard in the basement of Heritage Halls.  It made us want to go to college.  There weren't very many people who went to college from Grantsville, but we wanted to.  We didn't know why we wanted to, but they were an inspiration.  They made us want to better ourselves and take the higher road.  We all graduated from BYU.

Our Dad farmed and it was hard to get him to stop working, but after the summer hay was put up, Mom would put him in the car and we'd go on vacation.  Our family vacation was to go to visit Janet wherever she was.  When she worked at Bryce Canyon we went and ate in the dining room.  We were proud of her because she was a waitress. When we visited her and Rob in Monticello, we went over to Cortez, CO and went fishing. When we visited her in OR,  we visited the coast and got in the water which was cold as a well digger's destination, but it was fun.  

Everyone I've ever talked to thinks the world of Janet.  I still run into Orrin Hatch and he always speaks highly of her.  She is full of integrity and kindness and treated us royally.

NANCY-If there is anyone more deserving of all the birthday attention of memories and experiences with Janet Miller, then I don't know who it is.  All though it could easily be Rob Miller, now that I think about it.  But...let's see how my memory holds out to write something significant, worthwhile, and meaningful.  Since there is a ten-year span between our ages, there are no memories from when I was very young.  Though she visited, Janet never lived with us.  But I do remember when I was in my youth that she came for a visit one time, and when it was time to go to bed, I hopped right in, and she said, "Aren't you going to say your prayers?"    She could have kept her thoughts to herself, but she chose to set a good example for me instead.  I have a lousy memory, but that experience has stuck with me all these years.  When we were a young family with five children, I sometimes worried about what would happen to them if Paul and I were killed in an accident.  Though Janet and Rob had ten of their own, I immediately thought of them.  I don't think I ever really asked them if they could take our five in that situation, but I knew my children would be loved and raised properly, even though Janet and Rob would have to spread themselves that much thinner.  And I've heard it said that you can tell what kind of a parent you are when you see how your grand children turn out.  Janet's grand children all seem to be perfect to me.  I've been told a million times that I am the "spittin image" of my mom, so w.hen this next experience happened, I knew for sure that we were full-blooded sisters...Janet and I.  We have the same dad's but not the same mothers.  She came to visit me once here in Arizona, and we spent one day together going to garage sales.  One of the vendors said something like, "You must be sisters...you look exactly alike."  So if I'm the "spittin image" of my mother, and we're not related through her but through my dad, how can I look exactly like Janet?"  Interesting, don't you think?  Love it!!!  Janet has a huge heart!  She is always concerned about everyone else, how they are doing, and worried if she has ever offended them.  I think she always wants to be right with the world in every way.  I am positive there will be a special place in heaven for Janet because of her goodness, kindness, example, endurance, devotion to the Gospel, and love for Heavenly Father and His Son.  Though we have never lived in close proximity, nor visited very much at all...neither in person, on the phone or by mail or e-mail, I feel a real closeness to Janet and love her so very much.  XOX  Nancy

KAY-  I love my sister Janet.  Even though she was waaaayyy older than I am we have a very close relationship.  I can call her any time, day or night and we visit.  Or she'll call me and we'll talk.  We can talk about anything and enjoy every minute.  She always asks me questions because she's always interested in what's going on with my life.  Those questions are also asked out of genuine concern.  I do love her (and Rob) so much.  I hope that while she's gone on her mission we can slip in a few of those enjoyable phone calls.  Love to you, Janet and Rob--Kay.

My mother is a dear person who loves God and fellowman.  She has dedicated her life to her family and I'm thankful for her and the example she is to me.  Happy Birthday, Mom.  Love, Laurie  xoxoxoxox