Personal History by Gretrude Hunsaker Monson
Contributor: koand Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
Personal History of Gertrude Hunsaker Monson
Today being the 13th of March, 1970, and having just been through an experience in which I very well might have not been here anymore, and being in my 66th year; I have decided to write the things of my life I can remember and some things I have been told. So often the years go by and we are always going to write one’s life history, but most often don’t.
I was born Ivy Gertrude Hunsaker on Saturday, January 30, 1904 in Elwood, Box Elder County, Utah. My mother had just gotten over the smallpox, which disease I had right along with her about one month before I was born. I remember, often Mother would call me to her so she could show someone the pox marks on my forehead. They were all gone by the time I was 10. My first memory was the summer I was 4. Mother was on her way (walking through the bottom land of the Malad River which circles our home on three sides) over to Uncle Walter’s. My brother, 6 years, and my sister 2 years, and I were standing on our little red chairs out in the yard and waving to her as she went.
The next thing I remember was being in bed with the red measles with my sister, Erma, while the folks went to the cemetery to bury my brother, Leroy. Two or three of my aunts were staying with us. Then, a few days later, I remember someone raising me up to see my little sister, Erma, as she lay in her casket. They died just eight days apart of red measles. I survived them.
Then there were the days of growing up. The year I was five, my folks moved to Blue Creek, out west of Tremonton, through some hills.
I remember climbing one hill and being able to see my parents coming home from Tremonton where they had been shopping. (Remember, this was horse and buggy days, no cars in those days, this was in 1909). We were so happy they were coming home.
My father had to haul water in barrels, then we would siphon it from the barrels into the bucket for our use. How warm it must have been to drink.
We had no toys to play with. I was 5 and Luther was 10. I remember he used to get two sticks (willows) and I had to hold the ends of each and he the other ends—then I was the “horse”. I think he used to have a third willow to use as a whip which I very often felt if I didn’t do as he wanted me to.
One day we had been playing with a hame strap off from father’s harness. That night when father went to hitch up the team to go get water, the hame strap was missing. He asked us about it and we were real afraid of getting a spanking. He said, “You lost it, you go find it.” It was very dark outside and the coyotes were calling from all around us and we were frightened, but we had to go. Our mother had instilled into us that if we were frightened, to sing a church song. So we were singing, “We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet”. We knew we had been up on the “rocky knoll”, an area a little distance from the house. We had also been playing among some locust bushes. We chose the rock knoll as the bushes were too dark and “scary”. As we walked along, clinging to each other, Luther said, “Let’s go this way”, pulling me over to the right. As he did so, I looked back over my left shoulder, and there, in a “circle of light” lay the strap. I have remembered this all these years and it has grown dearer to me every time I recall it.
That fall, we moved back home to Elwood; and on my 6th birthday, in January a baby girl was born to my mother. They called her Tensie Velda (she was their 10th child).
In the spring, Luther and I would go out to the banks of the river and dig out some clay, make it into a ball, put the clay ball on the end of a willow, and see how far we could throw it on the willow. Very often, Luther would dig into a nest of water snakes, and then he would chase me with one. I guess this is the reason I have such a great horror of snakes.
The day I reached my 8th birthday, I ran home fast and my Father baptized me in the Malad River which was just a hundred feet from our house. There was snow on the ground and mush ice floating in the river. It was bad for me, but my poor father to have to stand in that cold water.
I remember Indians coming to our home begging for food. Mother never turned anyone away hungry. I remember people coming in the summertime, and mother loading their buggy with garden vegetables and fruit. We had a big orchard of many kinds of fruit.
For years, someone would have to take the cows out along the road to feed. When I was eight years old, I had to take the cows out. Mother was expecting a new baby, and Luther was to hoe the weeds in the orchard. I was about 1 ½ miles away from home. Mother had let me ride the horse if I would not ride him all day, but let him feed along the sides of the road like the cows. I got so bored and so I thought, “Well, if I just sit on the horse and let him eat.” I even rode him into a field of alfalfa (the fence was down). I was sitting here on the horse when around some willows came Luther. I didn’t know why, but he had father’s quirt (a short heavy strap whip used by horse riders to make the horse go faster). He came over to me and knocked me off the horse. He beat me and beat me—supposedly because I was on the horse. I raised my arm because it was hurting so much and it was all covered with blood. When he saw this, he became frightened and stopped beating me and promised me all sorts of things if I wouldn’t tell the folks. Two days later, my dress gapped open in the back and Ida saw my back was all black and blue. She took me to mother (she had Grandma Green and Aunt Polly visiting her). Mother stripped me and there wasn’t a white spot on my body except one about the size of a match on my chest. I told them I had fallen off the horse on a broken bridge two days before. They just knew it couldn’t have been two days ago, but the day before and I had lay unconscious and gotten confused as to when it happened. Mother never knew the truth until just before I was married---I still have the scar on my arm.
I remember when I was in 5th grade, I was Miss Prim, the school teacher (the lead in a school play) because the teacher said I learned so well so fast.
The spring I was 10 years old, I came home from school to find our home had burned down to the ground. Nothing had been saved. It had started from a faulty chimney. This was out in the country where there was no fire department. It was a total loss. Then, again, Mother’s house burned down a year or so after I was married. This time a no-good Uncle set it on fire. Why? Jealousy can cause so much trouble.
I was a real big girl, and when I would play with children my own age, I would be teased by my brother Luther, hence I usually played alone. We had kerosene lamps, and it was my job every Saturday to wash and dry the chimneys to the lamps. When mother would buy kerosene for the lamps they would usually put a gum drop of the spout so it wouldn’t spill out. This we could eat, right up to the part that had a bad taste.
We almost never had meat, except in the winter when father would kill a pig. We only had an orange once a year in our Christmas stockings.
Our diet was almost always cooked cereal for breakfast with a big pitcher of sweetened milk to pour on the cereal—never butter, only when a cow would freshen (have a new calf) and we had enough milk to make our own butter. Usually one of the other meals would be bread or potatoes and milk gravy, and the other would be bread and milk. Of course, in the summer we always had vegetables from the garden: new peas and potatoes, and other garden vegetables. We always had lots of bottled fruit—all kinds of fruit which we raised. Many times, for my lunch at school, I had bread and lard with salt sprinkled on it. I never liked syrup on my bread because it soaked into the bread. Quite often, we would have a lot of dried bread. Mother never threw out crusts or anything like that. When we had milk, mother would heat the milk and put in the dried bread, add some sugar and nutmeg—we really liked this. But when we didn’t have milk, she would do the same thing with water. We liked that too. Sometimes we would have “flour mush”, “lumpy dick”, --boiling salted water with dry flour put in slowly while stirring it fast. I even like this now---it brings back memories. Of course, mother used different greens cooked—red roots (very young), dandelions, mustard weed, etc. This we didn’t like too well, but it all helped because we were very poor. We almost never had eggs. None to just fry or boil for eating. Sometimes we had a couple to make a cake.
I must tell you how we had our beds in my young days. Mother had made big bed ticks (bags large enough to fit the beds). She made them from heavy ticking materials. Every fall, after the grain had been threshed, they would empty out the old straw, wash the bags, and go out to the straw stacks, fill them real full, so that the first few nights we would be up high on the bed but the longer we laid on these straw ticks, they would mash down and then they would be more flat. They really made comfortable beds. We would have to shake them up quite often. My parents’ tick was always made from corn husks—changed every fall like ours.
My Grandma Hunsaker was real kindly pioneer lady—we children always liked to stop off at her place on our way from school. She would generally break off a piece of “salt-risin’ bread”, take out a gallon can of jam from her cupboard and spread some on our bread and send us on our way. We loved her dearly.
Sometimes when we were playing with a ball or maybe something else, it would go into the river. The river was on three sides of our home so we would take the rake or a stick and try to get it our as it went around the turns.
The fall of the year I was to enter 8th grade, mother was cooking for a sugar factory crew of men. We had moved up to one of their houses on this ranch. She needed my help (I was 14), so I didn’t start school right away. I would take the younger children to school, down to riverside, and then come home to help. At last I started and attended school one day, and the 1918 flu started and the schools were shut down. So that ended my schooling—one day in eighth grade.
I guess the first job I ever had was when I was 15. I was a waitress at the sugar factory hotel. I got fired when I slapped my boss for telling me a dirty story while he stood in the doorway of the pantry so I couldn’t get away.
The summer of 1920, in July, I was working in the dining room of the Shield Hotel in Tremonton. My father was working away from home on a reclamation project for the Utah Idaho Sugar Company, out by Little Mountain, west of Corinne. He was batching in one of the three houses on this ranch. He got sick and called for mother to come get him. He was about ten miles away and mother got Uncle Walter to take her out to get him in his car. I came home to help for he was so sick. Three days later he was dead. He had eaten peas that had been opened too long and they had botchelism. This left mother with four children at home, I was 16, Velda 10, Walter 8 and Gwendal 6.
We had a non-Mormon family as a neighbor and someone had pushed father’s cap back off his forehead to make him look more natural. At the funeral, I was sitting several people away from mother and I wondered if someone had put father’s cap back on his head. But I didn’t ask as I should have done. When we got home, I asked and no one had put it back. Of course, the mortician should have taken care of this. Mother called Brother Westmoreland, the mortician, and he said "no he hadn’t". Well, this meant to dig up the grave out and fix the cap. Mother thought she wouldn’t go up to the cemetery as it would just make her feel worse. She was out hoeing in the garden and seemed to hear father say, “You’re ashamed to let anyone know you love me?” She said out loud, “I am not.” She threw down the hoe, hitched up the horse and buggy and went right up. So she got to see him again, and everyone was at rest in their minds.
Then, that winter of 1920, I spent a month with my brother, Luther, and his wife Iva in High Creek, a little canyon just north of Richmond, Utah in Cache County. The snow was pretty deep up there and there wasn’t much to do. They had a new baby. They lived in a four room house, two rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs. There was a door to the east and one to the west in the kitchen and a door to the east in the bedroom, so if you went outside from the bedroom, you would have to go through two doors.
One evening, Luther, Iva , Iva’s brother, Vern and I were sitting in their bedroom around a round table playing black jack. Our mother had taught us not to play with playing cards. We were using matches in place of money and were really enjoying ourselves. When we heard heavy footsteps upstairs. The rooms upstairs were completely empty and bare wood floors. The steps started at the south end and went all through both rooms upstairs. We were, of course, very concerned as to who it could be and how anyone got up there. Luther and Vern grabbed flashlights and ran upstairs, looked everywhere and found nothing. The rooms were empty. They came back down and we sat discussing what it could have been. Then at last we picked up our cards and continued our game. No sooner did we start playing than the footsteps started where they left off at the north end of the rooms and went through both rooms to the south. It so happened that the window was out upstairs at the south of the house and the boys thought that whoever it was had jumped out the window. They again grabbed their flashlight and Luther got his pistol from the dresser drawer. As they ran out, Vern said, “You go one way and I’ll go the other and if you see anything holler.” By the time they had got half way around the house, Luther shot off his pistol. Iva and I in the house were real frightened. Iva had the baby in her arms. I took the lamp and went to the east door to see if I could see anything. Iva was in the bedroom with the baby and I was in the kitchen. Just then, Vern ran in the bedroom door and Luther came in the last kitchen door. Vern called out, “Luther shot him.” I saw Luther come in but Iva in the bedroom thought Vern had said, “Luther shot himself.” She fell in a faint and bumped her head on the table as she fell. Of course the baby screamed. I took the baby and the boys worked with Iva and brought her out of her faint. Then I got hysterical. It was a really experience. The next morning there were no tracks in the snow or anyplace and we never did know what we had heard that night.. Need I say we didn’t play any more cards! And I still won’t have playing cards in my house.
I lived one year with my sister, Clara and her husband and worked in the sugar factory. I got real sick with tonsillitis and Clara took me home. The next day, mother went to town and bought me three pair of winter underwear and I had to wear them. This was the year I was 17. The summer I was 16, I got real sick and I had to go to the hospital. On August 3, 1929, the doctor removed my appendix. Grandma Green was staying with us and she had fallen and broken her hip. I had only been home from the hospital a few days when mother had to go to Montpelier, Idaho, as my brother Allen had a strangulated hernia and he almost died. So I was the oldest home to take care of Grandma.
The latter part of September, I went to work up at the Garland Sugar factory. Well, I worked at three different places in the factory, but ended up in the Steffens house, where I had to add lime to the beet juice. I stayed here till the run was over.
My life hasn’t been very exciting. I had lived home with mother to help her on our little place. We had four or five acres where we had apple trees and a garden. One day, I took a load of green onions to town. I brought them into the back door of the grocery store when someone called out “Here’s the onion girl.” I was crushed.
It was at an armistice dance, November 11, 1921 while I was working at the Sugar Factory and staying with my sister, Clara, and her husband, Dave Harris, that I met my husband, James Monson. We both worked at the sugar factory and I had watched him through some cracks in the wall that separated where he worked from where I did. I had gone to the dance with a man who was much older than I, but who was a real gentleman. This man, Monson, came over and asked me to dance and I danced with him. He asked if he could take me home and I, of course, refused because this other man had brought me. But he did ask me for a date and it was fine with me because I had admired him for some time through the cracks—ha-ha. Well, it became serious right away because he had given me a ring before Christmas and took me to Salt Lake to meet his family. He was a good Latter-Day Saint and said we would be married no place but in the Temple. We went together until the factory closed and he had to go home to Salt Lake along about the first of February.
I remember going out to the mail box which was a little over a “block” from the house (of course this was out in the country). One day, when I went out to the box our horse was loose and had gotten with a young colt and was really feeling her oats—she was real frisky even though she was a real large mare. In trying to chase the colt out of our place and “Ole Dot” into the yard, I got too close to her and she kicked up her hind legs and kicked me right on the bridge of my nose and galloped back into the yard. I was stunned and staggered over to a telephone pole until I gained my senses. She had kicked and broken the skin and blood was running down the top of my nose. When I told mother, she tried to tell me I had bumped into an apple limb, it was almost unbelievable that I had had such a close call and came out with just a small cut on my nose.
I got the flu in March and mother called Jim and he came up from Salt Lake. We planned to be married the 5th of April, 1922 and I guess I was real busy getting ready for the big day.
Mother went to Salt Lake with me, we stayed at the Monson’s home. We had a real small reception in the Monson home, as Norma, a daughter, was also staying here and she was threatening a miscarriage. We soon moved to a house where we had two rooms and Mother Monson and her children had three. This lasted until fall when we moved (my husband and me) out to Magna where Jim had work with the Utah Copper Company. We were here for just a few months and then moved back to Salt Lake where we lived at 149 W. 7th South.
On September 3, 1923, our first tiny baby was born, a boy. We called him Darrel James. I had a terrible time with him. He came early and we almost lost him. In those days babies were supposed to get their nourishment from their mother and little Darrel just would not. The milk he got from a bottle didn’t agree with him and even though he was under a doctor’s care, je just got real sick. Twice I had to starve him for 24 hours to stop diarrhea (just rice water which he hated). At ten months old, he weighed 15 lbs. That summer was a nightmare and on November 22, 1924 I had another little red haired boy. We called him Leon Allen. What I time I had, two babies who couldn’t walk. Darrel didn’t talk till Leon was almost four months old. As the children began to grow up, there was joy and happiness, what fun I had taking care of my little family.
On Christmas day, 1926, another little boy came to live with us. What a Christmas present. We called him Eldon Eugene. From then on, Grandma Monson always came to our house on Christmas day for Eldon’s birthday dinner.
We lived first on Dooley court, then on Center Street in Magna, then 149 W. 7th South. (This is where Darrel and Leon were born), then down behind the cabinet factory on 1st West St. From there, we spent 6 weeks at Norma’s, then back to Magna on 2nd W. From there we moved to Midvale where Eldon was born. We only lived there about 8 months and then we moved to 932 Jefferson St. in Salt Lake City. I guess we lived here for about 2 ½ years and then down on Vidas Avenue. During this time, Jim was working in Magna and Bingham as a carpenter. We only lived here for a few months and in October, 1929, to 1936, the depression was on and we were hurt a lot then. A week or so before Carol was born, Jim got real sick with septic tonsils. He ran a temperature and they couldn’t operate while he was running a fever. This went on all summer. I was so happy with my dear little boys and my new sweet little daughter. When Carol was about three, we moved over on Major Street for a few months and then to 966 S. West Temple. At this time, Jim was working for the WPA. There was a bad snow storm long after the trees grew their leaves and branches and trees were down all over town. His crew had the job of cleaning up all this rubble.
We had to move from here as they sold the house. So for about three or four months, we lived over between 2nd and 3rd East on 9th South. Then we bought a home at 1032 Jefferson Street. We lived here for 12 years. In 1949, Jim was transferred to California. He had worked several years for the Army Corps of Engineers. He worked out here, in Sacramento, for six months while I stayed with Darrel and Betty in Oakland. Then in March, I came back home, wallpapered and painted the home and we sold it for $6,500. I hated leaving my home which was all paid for and start out again. In June, we moved to Sacramento at 5851-55th Street. We lived here from June 1950 to May 1957. Then Jim was transferred to Porterville, California. We were here till January 1961; again transferred and moved to Stockton California. In 1964, Jim retired and we moved back to Utah, had our home built, and we have lived here since then.
My service in the church during this time: I first started sometime around 1938. I was asked to teach the beginners’ group in Primary. I wasn’t here long until I was asked to be the Lark (9 year old girls) teacher. During this time, our chapel building was condemned and we had to hold classes in our homes. When the girls were promoted, they insisted I be “promoted” with them and so then I was the Bluebird teacher. I think I was this for one year and then was asked to teach the Blazers and the Treckers and then when the Guide teacher quit, I was asked to take the oldest group, or Guides, in Primary. Oh, the choice times I had with them. I graduated both Darrel and Leon from the Primary. I then went into the presidency for just a couple of months and then was asked to be President. The position I held for some 5 or 6 years.
The Bishop then wanted Marie Koew, my first counselor, for the Relief Society President and so he asked me to be MIA President and they had Ethel Anderson, my 2nd counselor to be the Primary President. She immediately got pregnant, and so she was only in for the fall months and asked to be released. The Bishop’s counselor, Ed Cracroft came to me and asked who I would suggest in the MIA. (In November I had missed a step going down stairs, and fell and broke my ankle. So again, after a few months had elapsed, in fact it was in the fall), I was asked to be Primary President even though my health was bad. I kept this position for some 3 or 4 years and was then released because of my health. For a year I held no position, not even a visiting teacher for a few months because of bad health. Then Marie Koew, who had been my counselor in Primary, asked me to be her counselor in the Relief Society, which position I held until we moved to California. One month after moving to California, I was again asked to be counselor in the Relief Society, which position I held for 3 or 4 years and was then asked to be work leader in Sacramento Stake Relief Society, which position I held until we moved to Porterville.
A month after moving to Porterville, I was again asked to be counselor in the Relief Society. I was this for a year or two and again I was asked to be work leader in the Bakersfield Stake relief Society, which position I held until we moved back to Utah. I was asked to be work leader in the 15th Ward in Orem, but I thought they could do better and so now I have been quilting chairman ever since, some 8 years and three different wards as we have been divided twice: the 15th, the 35th, and now the 50th Ward. I learned to drive the car in Porterville. I took Drivers Education so I could take care of my obligations so much better.
Now I have lived here in this home in Orem 1724 S. 100 E. for almost 10 years. I love my home although it is large, having 12 large rooms and three baths. I want to stay here as long as I can. I am 70 years old now and am beginning to slow up a little. I am alone. My husband has been dead now for almost three years. He just deteriorated in mind and body and passed away October 30, 1971. He is buried in Ogden, in the Memorial Gardens of the Wasatch, a beautiful place overlooking the whole valley. I miss him, there are so many things I cannot do. He left me well taken care of if I am careful. I try to help my family as I can but again I must be careful.
I have had three bad sick spells. In November 1969, I had blood clots in both lungs brought on because of phlebitis in my right leg. Dr. Don took out the infected vein and a few days later, the blood clots came. To avoid any more clots in my legs, the doctor tied off the large veins in my legs, as they were full of blood clots. I was in the hospital for 54 days. Then in May, 1970, I had a rather severe stroke and was in the hospital a few days then. I was advised then to have an artery in my neck reamed out but didn’t. Then in November, 1970 I decided to have it done as I was having small strokes right along. So I had an arteriogram done, and before the day scheduled I had a real jolt (stroke) and I was taken right in that night and had the ceratoid operation the next morning These were two bad operations, the first I was in intensive care for two days and the last for three days. I seemed to get better okay, and have not had a real stroke since then, although I have real bad high blood pressure, but I’m under a doctor’s care. Then Dad left me the following October and two years to the day after Dad’s death, Darrel was operated on and had to have a complete stomach removal from cancer. I wish so much it could have been me. Why?? He can do so much more good than I. But only the Lord knows best.
We live here on earth the best we can until we are called home. I feel that the world is a better place because of my help. I have had three Bishops in my family, all five have been married in the Temple. The other two are anxiously engaged in doing the Lord’s work. Ron is a Seventy and is the class leader. He spends many hours in the Temple. Carol has worked in all the women’s organizations, mostly in the music department. She and her husband go every week to the Temple. They are all raising good families. Three of Darrell’s boys have fulfilled missions and a fourth, a girl had been married in the Temple. Both of Leon’s daughters who have married have been married in the Temple. Eldon’s two daughters who have married have been married in the Temple and both boys have served missions. In fact, it has been 100% Temple. I feel so thankful, I hope some of this has been from my teaching.
I have so many friends whom I love and who love me. To name a few: Bernice Marshall, Elna Croft, Mae Shaw, Waldene Olson, Dixie Rickenback, Marlene Willis, Ann Baskin, Thelma Messer, Donna Peterson, Aleda Lindquist, Letha Larsen, Marie Goin, Lorna Evans. These are among my close and dearest friends. Added to these are all my neighbors here, and another dear friend in the ward is Robin Cardon.
My children grew up in depression days. We had very little money but we made do. One of the highlights in their lives is when we would all walk up on Fifth south, between West Temple and First West to a dairy to get a couple of gallons of milk, skim-free. On the way home, we would get icicle radishes and some few other things, come home put it all on the table with some bowls and spoons and everyone could have all they wanted to eat of bread and milk and icicle radishes and whatever else we had. At this time, we were living at 932 S. Jefferson Street. On a Sunday afternoon, we would load up a red wagon with food and children and walk up to Liberty Park to have lunch or I would cook up a hot meal and take it in the car up to Millcreek Canyon and have lunch, but always came back for Sacrament meeting. A lot of the Sunday afternoons was down at Grandma Monson’s and Viola’s. They were always glad to see us come. It must have been a big bother for us all to come, of course Norma and Alice and family would come too. I learned to cook with very little. Sometimes we just had potato soup with onions in for flavor. I always baked my own bread. I always put up a lot of fruit which helped.
I think the 12 years we lived at 1032 Jefferson Street were the happiest and the saddest years of my life. I was serving the Lord to the best of my ability and yet I was so sick. I had nervous breakdowns which didn’t show outwardly and so no one could see that I was ill. There were a few times we would go for a ride out in the country, but these were few and far between. It seems that each year we would manage to take off a week to go to Star Valley, a kick out of my boys wanted to go back to a house to go to the toilet when they were way out in the field. We loved the hot cereal with rich cream on it for breakfast.
One time, when we were there, a crowd of us went up the Snake River Canyon. The children rode in a truck and on the way up, a little four year old Carol had an accident. She had a cute little butcher boy suit on and it was very noticeable she was wet. So I said, “Let’s go for a walk and you will dry out.” Darrell and Leon had gone down by the big “booming” Snake River and were trying to throw rocks across the river We went down the bank to where the boys were and I’ll never know how but I got in the way of a big rock just as it left Leon’s hand. It hit me just on the outside of my glasses. I thought I was going to pass out and didn’t want to stumble into the river so I just sank down where I was. I grabbed my head and I’ve never seen such terror in a young boy than was in Leon. I guess he thought he had killed me. As soon as I could pull myself together, I got up and the boys led me back to the crowd. They pulled my hand away from my head and I indeed had a big lump coming up on my head. It is had been one inch in either direction, I guess it would have either killed me or put out my eye. I had a bad black eye and had to get a new lens for my glasses. I felt so bad for Leon. No one will ever know.
I have tried in my life to do all the good I can, for all the people I can, in all the ways I can, as fast as ever I can.
Did you know, Darrel, that as a very young baby I could stop you from crying when I put a record on and played music? As the record ended, you would start crying again. As soon as another record started, you would quiet down. You did cry a lot, especially for the first six months of your life. Poor little boy, you did have problems.
And now, as I come to the end of my life history, I want to impress on your minds, all who read this, how very much I love you. You have all been my very life, you are all what this life is all about and I am so proud of each and every one of you. I now, as of this date (July 2, 1978) have 5 children, 32 grandchildren, 6 great grandchildren. The Lord has been very good to me. I am so thankful for all of you. I have had 5 grandsons on missions. Gordon leaves this month for his German mission and Kent will be ready next month. I have had all my children marry in the Temple and 7 grandchildren marry in the temple—none married outside the temple for which I am very proud and thankful. All have been very active in the church I had have 3 Bishops in my own family and I expect great things from my grandchildren. I have had heartaches and yes, tragedy in the passing of my husband and my darling Darrell. No one will ever know how I miss my son. He has been gone now six months and it still isn’t getting any easier to live without him. We were very close to each other.