HAZEL C. CLARK

Some of my earliest memories are learning children's songs with Grandma Hazel. She would sit in her big chair and put us on her lap or have us sit around her as she taught us classic songs like "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" or "To market, to market to buy a fat pig. Home again, home again jiggity jig!" Whenever I hear songs like that now I think of her and her sweet spirit. I always knew that Grandma Hazel loved me. She would patiently let me come into her room to play with toy horses that she kept in her closet. It was little gestures of love such as these that let us, her great-grandchildren, always feel that we were important and special to her. Hazel's great-grandaughter, Emily Walker 25 July 2014

Grandmother ("Hazel" in my adult life with her) was the grandparent I knew best and spent the most time with of all my four grandparents. I spent my early childhood summers at her Provo home while my mother finished her undergraduate degree at BYU. I visited her home at least once or twice per year until my mission. I frequented her home during my college days at BYU when Dawn Anne and I were courting and in our early married days. She trusted me with everything--I often borrowed her red Chevy sedan for outings with Dawn Anne and Steve Grover. She had actually lived with us in South Denver (Oneida house) during 1975 when I had my driving permit. She was my adult companion when I learned to drive that entire summer. She later moved to the Denver area and lived in my parents home (Piedmont Dr and Piedmont Court) for eighteen or more years until her death. She is my grandmother that all my children (even Amy) knew and remember. Her buoyant attitude and classic quotes are still cherished by all in my immediate family. She allowed Dawn Anne to live in her home one semester while I was on my mission, so my grandmother became fast friends with my future wife. This richly blessed the two of them (and me as well) for years that followed as Dawn Anne took our children daily to her bedside or sitting room to visit. Hazel wove some her magic thread of optimistic living into my heart and I am indebted to her for this treasure.

My Grandmother, Hazel (Cook) Clark, was a woman of great faith, dignity and poise. I will be eternally grateful to her, because of her willingness to take on the responsibility of raising my own dear mother, (Laura Gai Stewart) as her own daughter. My mother’s birth mother (Erma Janet Merrill) passed away when she was only 5 years old. Grandma (Hazel) did not believe in the term “step” parent, but rather she loved her adopted children (Laura and Cecil) the same as her own birth children (Mary and David). I attribute much of the great person that my mother is, due to having such a good mother to raise her. Also, if it hadn’t been for Grandma’s moving to Logan for a time and living with her father (who happened to live in the same ward as the Stewart family) then my parents would have never met. I spend time every summer with Grandma at the house in Provo. Those are among my most fond childhood memories. We were usually there with our cousins, the Gills from Denver, and the Clarks, who lived in Provo. She would always make sure that we had plenty of wholesome activities to keep our attention. For example, she would leverage her alum status from BYU to get us into the student center for bowling, or Heleman Halls dorm swimming pool. She loved to read and would typically take us to the BYU bookstore and allow us to pick out books that she would buy for us to take home and read. Grandma was a great host. She loved music. I remember sitting around the piano in the living room while she would play and sing songs or sit on the back patio and enjoy a summer evening watching the sun go down over the Utah Valley. One of her favorite sayings was “where there is heart room, there is hearth room”. I’ll never forget a funny experience that I had with Grandma. When I first returned from my mission, I was working as a truck driver to earn money for college. During that summer, I stayed many nights with Grandma, who at the time was widowed and living alone in the Provo house. I believe that she enjoyed having the company, and someone to help with some of the outside chores. I was concerned however, because, her house was in an upscale neighborhood, and each night I would park this big semi-truck, with a 40’ flatbed trailer in front of her house, which was not generally in keeping with the overall aesthetics of the neighborhood. I asked her several times during that summer, if she was okay with me parking the truck in front of the house and each time, she mentioned that it was fine, but I suspected that she didn’t really understand how big the truck was. One afternoon, as I was pulling up to the house, with the big (and load) diesel truck, Grandma happened to be outside at the mailbox. When she saw how big and loud the truck was, and the realization that I had been parking in front of the house all summer long, and how that might appear to her neighbors, her eyes were as big as saucers, and I could see the embarrassment in her face. Upon seeing her reaction, I asked her if she would feel more comfortable if I began parking the truck down the street near an empty lot, and she good-naturedly said that she thought it would be a good idea. When Grandmother later moved to Denver, I made an effort to stop by to visit her when traveling for business. On one such occasion, I picked her up, and took her to get groceries and for a ride to get out of the house. I will always remember that day, because we had an opportunity to talk one-on-one for an extended period, and Grandma opened to me about many topics. She spoke of her love and respect for her own father and how she enjoyed the time that she lived in Logan. She talked about what good people my paternal grandparents were. She shared how much respect that she had for her two sons-in-law, Lynn Stewart (my father) and Larry Gill. Specifically she believed that they are good men who provide a good balance and calming influence they provide for her daughters. She also shared her testimony and expressed her faith and love for the Lord. This was a very special conversation that I will always remember. When Grandma passed away and we attended her funeral, it was much more of a joyful than sad experience. We had the opportunity to reminisce, pay tribute to a great woman and celebrate the legacy of love and faith that she passed along to her family.

Life Story of Hazel Jean Cook Clark Compiled by D. Cecil Clark, Son August 8, 2008 HAZEL JEAN COOK CLARK Early Years in Fountain Green I was born on November 14, 1907 at Birch Creek, a small settlement about two miles south of Fountain Green, the only daughter of David Willard and Jean Livingston Cook. One year later, 1908, I moved with my family to Fountain Green, Sanpete County, Utah. Fountain Green is a beautiful little valley named after the place on the west side of the mountains from which came the water for this little town. I suppose it had a name, but we just called it “Big Creek.” “Cookville” is the name our family gave to the cluster of homes occupied by the Cook brothers, sons of William Francis and Jane Booth Cook. These homes were located at the north end of main street. Grandfather and grandmother’s (William Francis and Jane Booth Cook) house was on the east side of main street. My Uncle Tom’s beautiful white brick house was directly across the street on a corner, made lovely with pine and spruce trees. Across the street to the north was Uncle Lester’s home. It was a new red brick house with a curved front porch, a wonderful place for children to play. Beyond a garden plot to the north stood my father and mother’s little red brick house. From its windows, as a very small young child, I would look eastward to the hills and wonder what was on the other side of the mountain. North of my parents’ home was Uncle Frank and Aunt Zina’s home where my cousin Victoria and I spent happy childhood hours playing near the flower beds, garden plots and fruit trees. Across the lawns behind the homes were well-kept barnyards and sheds. Here as little children we romped in the yards of our cousins, played in the raspberry patches, became attached to the cows and calves, horses and colts. Here also we learned to work by doing our chores as we grew up. Everyone worked very hard. Here we saw the first automobiles of the century drive past our homes in clouds of dust as we clung to the fence posts with wide eyes. Here we enjoyed hot biscuits, jelly, cakes, pies, fresh vegetables and fruits--all homemade and home grown. I remember grandfather as an old man with a beard and gray hair. He was an early pioneer who with his wife came over from England. He worked with and for Brigham Young and was sent to Fountain Green to settle with the earliest pioneers. They had a few Indian troubles before my day. David, my father, was next to the youngest of his sons. They were all hard working men, very handsome, and they struggled. They had livestock, sheep and gardens. There were all self sustaining like the early people had to be in those days. After our grandfather died in 1914, one of us grandchildren would sleep with Grandmother each night to ease her loneliness. We took turns staying with her. We did not mind this. We thought it a privilege. We were impressed with her soft feather bed and her high-necked nightgown, ruffled nightcap and little bed slippers--all snowy white. How we grandchildren loved to slide off Grandmother’s high feather bed onto the soft warmth of the huge bearskin rug that lay beside her bed! To run our little bare feet through the soothing fibers was a most pleasant sensation. I enjoyed the simple breakfasts Grandmother and I had together. I was six or seven years old. Freshly cooked hot oatmeal was the regular fare. We sat at the kitchen table, the two of us completely contented. I was charmed with her direct, unassuming manner. I sensed she was aware of me as a real person and was making me a part of her own private world. Cosmetics were unheard of in those days. Her sole beauty aid was glycerine and rose water with which she rubbed her hands and face after washing with soap and water. I thought her beautiful and very feminine. Grandmother’s kitchen was a large, comfortable room carpeted wall-to-wall with homemade, hand loomed strips sewn together. On the south side of the room between two deep-silled windows was the door opening on a little side porch which overlooked the field to the south. We always entered Grandma’s house through this door, never the front door which opened to the west. Two huge lilac bushes graced the entrance to the yard. Grandmother always wore homemade, high-necked house dresses with long skirts to the floor. My father went to school in Fountain Green but only to about the fourth or fifth grade I think, if that far. But he was a great student. He read and studied and really was a self-made man. I guess all the Cook brothers were. My mother was a Livingston, and her family was made up of the same, self made people. Her father and mother were original pioneers, also. They lived on a big ranch two miles outside Fountain Green on what they called the Livingston Estate. They were self sustaining. They had ponds and ducks, and they made feather beds and pillows from the feathers. They raised their own meat and their own chickens and their own fruit and vegetables. When my mother was growing up my father saw her at the social functions they had in Fountain Green. There was just one ward there and one meeting house and one school, and so it was a pretty closely knit little society. He admired her as she was growing up. He said, "You must get the cage before you get the birds," so all the brothers had acquired land and planned a home before they proposed to the girls. Father told me he admired mother for years before they ever started dating seriously. All of my father’s brothers married and had homes right along there in a little row, which is unusual, isn’t it? We had a most wholesome upbringing. The winters were very cold and I remember there was a picket fence running in front of the homes and sometimes the wind would blow the snow and it would drift until it came to the top of that fence. Being very young and light, we children could almost walk along the top of the pickets because the wind would crust it. Then of course in those days married men were sent on missions. So my father was called on a mission. I must have been only five years old when he left. I remember how thrilled I was when he finally came home from his mission. He did come home briefly during his mission when my little brother Cecil became ill. I think he was home for just a few days before Cecil died with complications from the measles. In those days they didn’t have antibiotics and mother put him in a hospital in Mt. Pleasant. She was there with him for I don’t know how long because I remember staying with my mother’s sister, Aunt Ellen. But then my father went back on his mission and I remember was how thrilled we were when he finally came home to stay. He brought me a little miniature song book that the elders had used in the field. It had a leather binding and it was an elegant little book and I prized it so. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. I was about seven then because I had started taking organ lessons on the old fashioned organ from Mrs. Hanson. Sister Hanson was a German settler. She sat down by that organ in her home with me every day for about fifteen or twenty minutes after school. Her home was next to the elementary school and I would go right from school to her home. My little song book was so precious to me, so wonderful, that I wanted to show it to Sister Hanson. One day I took it with me to my organ lesson and I had to cross the big creek over a little bridge to get to her house. When I got to the middle of the bridge I stood there for a minute looking down into the water and dropped that precious little book. I ran off the bridge and just jumped right into the stream and it’s a wonder that I got out because the water came up on me quite far. Well, I got it out. I think that’s amazing! I wouldn’t dare do that even now I don’t think. But anyway I saved that little book and went home to my mother and told her about it. One day I got my feelings hurt. I can’t remember what it was about, but I went out in the raspberry patch and down one of the little rows and sat down. I just sat there and sat there thinking how sorry they’d be when they couldn’t find me and I’d be gone. I was there so long I became bored so I got up and went home. Nobody had realized I was missing! I remember playing with my cousins. We’d go to each other’s houses to play and we all felt so safe and secure. There was nothing to worry about in those days with all the aunts to care for whichever children were playing in their house or in their yard. So it was quite an ideal childhood for me. Our home faced east and there were some low foothills. I used to look at those foothills and wonder what was on the other side. I had longings, even as a very young child, to get out and find out what the world was all about because something must be over there that would be interesting. My Brother Bill and I were very close then and have been throughout our lives. My mother used to tell him that he was supposed to take care of me, so when we were little tiny kids we would go off to Primary and things like that together and he’d take my hand. When we both married, our children played together and they would go up into the mountains with the sheep, staying together in the sheep camp. Gracia, his wife, would take her little children up there for vacations and they would be with my children. My younger brother Cecil passed away. A few years went by, not many, and then I had four new little brothers: Dewey, Loyal, Grant and Blaine. I was older than they were but we always got along fine. But my closest association was with my brother Bill. He and I were very close. I helped my mother take care of my younger brothers. I loved them but I was more like a little mother to them than a sister. Now I have only my very youngest brother Blaine left, and he isn’t young. He’s in his seventies now, but he’s the youngest brother of all. I used to love to dress them up and put them in their little stroller and take them for walks around my neighborhood in Logan where we then lived. I worshiped my parents. I was not closer to one than the other but my father made a bigger fuss over me while I think my mother was very cautious. She wanted me to remain humble and sensible. She sacrificed to give me music lessons and things like that and she always loved me just as much as he did--but father made a bigger fuss over me. She’d get me ready to go some place and say, "Now see that you act as good as you look." She never complimented me on how I looked or anything like modern mothers do nowadays, but she had a deep deep caring for me. They both did. They were very hardworking people. My father and my uncles, so frugally brought up, were poor by today’s economic standards, but their children were well cared for spiritually and emotionally. We had time and space to play in the open fields and meadows. We lived intimately with nature. We were loved by aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents. All of this gave us a sense of security and stability. We were taught from earliest childhood the reason for our existence, from whence we came, and the pathway we were to follow to attain true happiness and a place in our Heavenly Father’s kingdom. Father and his brothers were in the Cook Brothers business together. As the brothers matured and started their families, they decided to become independent and each go his own way, which they did successfully. This prompted our move to Cache Valley. The Logan Years When I was 10, our family moved to Logan where my father had purchased rangeland in the south part of Cache Valley. We rented a house on second west for a short time then moved into our home at 21 South First East, just half a block south of the tabernacle which was such a beautiful building. Our home was not new but it was very lovely. And it became a “House of Happiness” for all of us, for it was a place where we grew up. Loyal, Grant and Blaine were born here. Here we proceeded through elementary and high school and entered college. From this home my brother Bill left on his first mission to Germany in 1925 and, years later, Grant on his mission to the Central Atlantic States in 1946. From here Grant and Blaine departed to serve their country during World War II and to this home they safely returned. This is the home from which father left each morning to work in the temple all those years. He walked north to the corner, up the gentle slope of Center Street, around the upward curve of the boulevard, then into the beautiful grounds and portals of the place he loved so much! To this home he returned in the evenings to a devoted wife who spent all of her time homemaking--except for her Relief Society service and her temple work. In this home we spent those years when Father was Bishop of the Logan Eleventh Ward and rich years they were. We older children recall the gospel discussions we had upon returning from sacrament meetings. We would review everything we had heard. Being teenagers we were consumed with questions and doubts and were constantly seeking answers. Father would talk with us. No effort was too great, no time too limited. His patience was unending. The principles of the gospel we did not understand, he would explain to us. He would sit with us until our minds finally grasped the truths he cherished so dearly. He wouldn’t give up until he was sure we had reached full comprehension. Having changed from our Sunday best to comfortable clothes, sitting with our mother and father around the kitchen table over bowls of bread and milk, these evening sessions took place in a relaxed happy atmosphere and we will never forget them. Father knew how to answer the hard-to-answer questions. I’m sure we caught his spirit of great love for the gospel. How we loved and respected him. After he taught us, discussed with us, explained to us, prayed with us, he frequently bore his testimony to us. In this home we knelt in family prayer even when Father was absent. Blessings on the food were always said. Mealtime was a happy time and each of us had a specific place at the table. When there was a baby in the family, his highchair was placed at the table with the rest of us. The hours we spent with Father around the living room fireplace and around the kitchen table have indeed given us dear memories. He loved to play games with his little boys, checkers or indoor ping-pong, on cold winter nights during Christmas vacation or other rare free times. He often helped us with our homework. Yes, though a busy man with his church work and his business duties, he was truly an available father. His efficiency and orderliness are also remembered by his children. He had, in the early days of our Logan life, a small barn which lay beyond our backyard lawn. He kept there a fine jersey cow which supplied the family with fresh milk and delicious cream. He raked the barnyard often, cleaned it, burned the weeds and kept it immaculate. He also kept his front yard beautiful with well-trimmed lawns. Vivid memories linger of Father on hands and knees, well nigh manicuring our front yard. He and Mother took great pride in the blossoming shrubs, trees of various kinds and flower beds they nurtured there. This beautifying of their yard seemed to be a characteristic of all Father’s brothers since they all had attractive, well-kept yards. An integral part of Father’s and Mother’s philosophy was the old “work ethic.” They were never idle and they taught us to work and what’s more, to enjoy and respect work. A favorite adage Father used was: “Idleness is the devil’s workshop, and keeping busy keeps us out of mischief.” We were taught how to attack a job, carry it though to successful completion, then properly put away materials and tools used in the task. I worked in the home with Mother and the baby brothers while Father and the boys worked in the yard and at the sheep camps. All work is respectable and honorable they taught us; idleness and slothfulness is not to be tolerated: “Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” When we were growing up, Father always awakened us early with a cheerful “Good morning.” During that first year in Logan I acquired a dear little friend, Mary Mitten. Mary’s father was Samuel B. Mitten, a powerful and spiritual leader of the Logan Tabernacle Choir. The family was musical. In the Mitten home and through Brother Mitten, I met the great pioneer musician Evan Stephens whose hymns are sprinkled throughout the current L.D.S. hymnbook. Brother Stephens was then an elderly man but I was impressed with this man and his music I repeatedly heard in their home and in the old Logan Tabernacle. It had an impact on the rest of my life. The Brigham Young Academy was located in Logan at that time. We called it "Brigham Young College." It was a junior college, but it had a laboratory school which was called the BY Training School and as soon as we arrived in Logan, my parents placed us in this elementary school. It was located on first south between second and third west, and it had a beautiful campus. The campus was planted in green lawns with a lovely canal running through the south edge. The old Nibley Hall was there, a wonderful old building for dramatic works. I began playing the organ for the Logan Eleventh Ward at age twelve and continued in that calling until I grew up and left Logan. Music became an integral part of my life. I believe the gospel can be taught to children through music. Sitting on that organ bench week after week year in and year out, I gradually acquired a profound testimony of the gospel which continues to grow with the passing years. High School Years My brother Bill and I finished elementary, junior high and high school at the BY Academy. The one thing that was marvelous about it which really helped to shape my life were the once-a-week devotionals in the old Nibley Hall. One of the Twelve Apostles came to talk each week. Adam S. Bennion was one of my favorite speakers. When I look back, I think that was a marvelous privilege for us. One of my fond memories is that of serving President Heber J. Grant at a spring banquet he attended at the Logan school. A group of us high school girls had been invited to serve and we were honored to do so. I don’t think I had any really painful years during high school. They had a swimming pool at that school and that was just wonderful. We certainly did enjoy that. And then I enjoyed my music because I was chosen to be the pianist in the BY Orchestra. The leader, Professor Ottey, was a German, well schooled in classical music in his homeland. Although this was the jazz and ragtime period of the sliding trombone, Professor Ottey would have none of it. He had us play the classical material as best we could. As a result of the this close association with this fine, humble teacher, and also Professor Samuel E. Clark, I was given opportunities for ensemble work in musical circles that have enriched and influenced my entire life. I developed an understanding and love of good music and enough skill to enable me to serve church organizations and schools throughout my life. Much later, when I worked in early childhood education as a profession, my colleagues sometimes felt I was gifted in working with children. But I truly believe the skills were learned from her mother at home with her four little brothers. Through this experience I learned to love and enjoy classical music. I think that was the greatest thrill of my school life. I took lessons from Professor Clark and Professor Ottey, both of whom had been schooled in the best schools--Ottey in Germany, and Clark in the New England Conservatory of Music. I began dating at about age of sixteen. Dating was so different from what it is now. They had dances every Friday night at the academy, held in our gymnasium--oh we loved that! The boys would ask us for a date and we would go to this little BY dance then dance with all our friends, never with just one person like they do now. Nor did we do all this tripping around. We just danced the good old waltzes and fox trots and what not and then we’d go home and that was the date. I did not go steady but I surely met a lot of boys. Mose Thatcher was the steadiest of all of them. But he liked to smoke and drink and tamper with forbidden things. Still, he was always a wonderful friend of mine. His home is one of the historic spots in Logan now because of all its wonderful antique furniture. His great grandfather was Apostle Thatcher. I was more interested in social life and my music than anything else but I was still a fair student. I think I could have been an excellent student had I given myself to it but I got by just fine. I had an outgoing personality because I lived in an environment in which it was easy to be outgoing. I didn’t have problems or many struggles. Some of the people from the little towns around Logan--Wellsville, Smithfield and even up over the Idaho line-- would send their teenagers down to the academy. I always tried to make them feel relaxed and at home. I just felt like I was such an integral part of that school. I had a very happy adolescence as well as having had a happy childhood. As time went on and I grew up, I had boyfriends from all the above surrounding towns, too. I dated them all, very wholesomely. I can’t believe that it was so safe in those days. Of course, my home was right there on first east and we walked to our dates. We didn’t have cars, or I mean the boys didn’t have the availability of cars during my teenage years. We would walk down to the dances at the BY High School and around the block to the movie theater. We went to movies and dances mostly. Mose Thatcher took me on my first airplane ride. They were having some kind of a celebration in Logan and flying people around the valley. The airplane ride cost five dollars. I asked my parents if I could go and they said yes. So he drove me out to a field in North Logan for this little airplane ride. We were very young little teenagers at that time. All through high school my brother Bill, two years my senior, was my confidant. We helped each other with the developmental tasks of the teen years. We would practice the latest dance steps on the kitchen floor in the old home and snacked on Mother’s delicious gooseberry pie as we warmed ourselves after those cold winter dates in the chilly Cache Valley weather. We discussed the problems of life there in that cozy kitchen in the middle of the night. I Often thought how wonderful it would be if all girls could have an older brother like Bill to help them through challenging teenage years. My high school graduation was held in the Logan Tabernacle. I remember sitting with the graduates, walking up for my diploma, and accompanying the music for the program. That was a big deal for me in this lovely Tabernacle. All activities in our graduation were religious in nature, or at least serious, unlike today's graduations. We had beautiful orchestral music, singing and things like that. Our services were more dignified than they are now. Early College Years At that time it was possible to attend the first two years of college at the Brigham Young Academy which finally closed it doors in 1925. Although my close girl friends enrolled at Utah State Agricultural College (up on the hill) for their freshman year, I decided to stay at the Academy for my freshman year. I did this in order to continue playing in the orchestra and various ensembles and because I could take my first year of student teaching. I was preparing to be a teacher and in those days you could student teach your first year of college. In my case it turned out to be a wise decision since I was assigned to work with the most marvelous master teacher, Myrtle Jakes. For my sophomore year I transferred up to Utah State College since the Academy was now closing. I had a most delightful year. That’s when I really began dating seriously. I was about eighteen or nineteen at the time. I was rushed by a sorority and we had many lovely parties. There were football and basketball games, corsages and all the rah, rah and dazzle of college life. I was quite the party girl, I guess. My friends loved to come to our home and they enjoyed my mother’s companionship and counsel which continued on long after I left the nest. I had some interesting classes too and got along well in my classes. I became more and more interested in teaching and decided to teach at the kindergarten level. I had always loved my teachers and enjoyed my elementary school so much, and yes I wanted to be a teacher. At the college I had my first real introduction to science and music and other subjects. I loved it all. We had marvelous professors, especially during summer school. We were exposed to distinguished historians and biologists. It was a marvelous experience for me to live in that little town and have some of these significant teachers. I had a lot of wonderful experiences at Utah State. First Marriage During that sophomore year I met and started to date J. Russell Smith. Mose Thatcher was there also and we continued to date. He has been a loyal devoted and friend all the days of my life and still is. He even called me once here in Denver after his wife died. And Glade, his wife, was a good friend of mine, too. He met her that year, also. Russell was in the ROTC program. His mother was a widow and they had little money but everyone told me he was a very nice boy from Richmond and was in Pre Medicine. He was a very serious boy and he belonged to the Delta Nu Fraternity. I had joined the Sorosis Sorority which later became the Alpha Chi Omega. I had a lot of fun times, just wholesome good times. But Mose joined the Sigma Chi and they were drinking and not quite as serious. The big military ball was one of the high social functions at the college at that time. Also, the fraternities and sororities would have their rush parties at Hotel Eccles and at the Bluebird. Both had little dance halls connected in their buildings and we had lovely, pretty parties. I dated Russell during my sophomore year and through that summer. We had some lovely experiences. He had met a wonderful friend, Donald Lloyd. Donald and his girlfriend and Russell and I all went to the Salt Air Resort in Salt Lake and to Bear Lake where we girls stayed in one cabin and the fellows in another. It was during this dating period that Russell and I became engaged. That fall Russell was accepted into Harvard Medical School. This was a special opportunity for him. I did not go to Boston with him his first year of medical school. I taught in Logan where they were opening up kindergartens for the first time. My teacher who taught me was going to Europe and asked me to take her class that year. That was a wonderful experience for me At the time I had what was called a first-class certificate from the old BY Academy. When I became interested in kindergarten work and asked for additional credits in student teaching I was assigned to the Edith Bowen Elementary School. Mrs. Jones, trained at Columbia, came back and opened a kindergarten at this school. She took me under her wing and trained me during my sophomore year. The next year she left for Europe, leaving me in charge of her class. So you see I’ve had opportunities just open up for me. At the end of that year, 1929, Russell and I were married in the Logan Temple. Then off to Boston we went that fall. We were very poor that first year just as were all the students from Utah. But I enjoyed it. I just really took in Boston and fell in love with it and applied for a teaching job. While looking, I got a job at Sears Roebuck, not far from our apartment. This was all very educational for me since I had led a protected, secluded life in Logan. I was a naive young girl of twenty-two in Boston. That experience in selling at the store was a wonderful experience for me because it taught me a lot of things about the world. We had those old cash registers and we had to add up our own sales and it was interesting. While I was working there the girl in my department was taken off the floor one day and we never saw her again. She was shoplifting. Those kinds of things shocked me and exposed me to some of the more sordid aspects of life that I had never contacted before. I worked at Sears for a year, all the time interviewing for a teaching job. I must have been blessed because I remember one day I had an appointment for a job interview during my noon hour. I was worried about returning on time and expressed my concern to the manager. He told me not to fret about it but to take the time I needed. I did get a job for the next year in Newton Proper, a suburb of Boston. It was at a private nursery school called Stevens Country Day School, and I was to have the kindergarten class. I ended up teaching there for three years. I also spent several summers at Harbor Beach, Michigan, teaching nursery school. I went there with the Olmsteads, friends made at Stevens Country Day School. The Depression was so severe my private nursery school had to finally close its doors even though the clientele were made up of wealthy families--but most had lost their money. The Depression itself was another good schooling for me. Everyone in the country was suffering and struggling. Still, we Utah students were enthusiastic, however low on funds. We attended the L.D.S. Branch in an upstairs rented building in Cambridge. Here we visited extensively after the services and buoyed each other up. We also had friends on the North Shore who invited us to their cabin to picnic and swim at Marblehead Beach. This was great, wholesome, exhilarating fun: “The breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock bound coast.” How true! Far from home, we all enjoyed being together, supporting and sustaining each other against homesickness. Clambakes on Cape Cod and New England boiled dinners at Plymouth were all refreshingly new experiences to me. I had a real introduction to seafood and to much local color and history. The first year I was in Boston was my husband’s sophomore year at Harvard Medical School. When he graduated he was assigned for his internship to Providence, Rhode Island. During that first year of his internship I stayed in Boston teaching at the private nursery school and, after it folded, I joined him in Providence where I was able to secure another job in a Friends girl's school. Friends are a religious sect. I taught the transition group between kindergarten and first grade for one year and that, too, was an education for me. Return To Utah After a year of residency in Providence, my husband and I returned to Utah. We had put off having any children which caused problems for me in our marriage. Looking back, that was a blessing. His plan was to go on and specialize. We separated and I went back home to Logan. After a year of separation I went through a civil divorce. It was a mutual agreement by both of us. Because we had been sealed in the temple, I was in no hurry to have a divorce but everything seemed to work out alright. I applied at a teacher’s agency and got a job in Jordan School District. They accepted me with open arms and loved me. I made an easy adjustment in the little town and made some lovely new friends in the Jordan District. After teaching and living in Jordan for two years I moved to Sandy and lived with another nice family. We teachers lived in homes--just boarded and roomed in homes and I met some lovely friends there. Each summer, I would then go home to Logan. While teaching in Jordan I took extension courses towards my baccalaureate degree at the University of Utah. After two years of teaching I decided to return to school. I taught in Logan for half a year, earning enough money to come back to Salt Lake and officially enroll in the University of Utah where I worked the rest of my senior year on my bachelors degree. During this time in Salt Lake I was also teaching kindergarten half day. Lillian Hogan Jensen, an old friend from Logan, joined with me in sharing an apartment on third east after her husband had been killed in a boat accident. We studied together, laughed and cried together, did each other’s hair, and remained true and everlasting friends throughout our lives. We see each other rarely now since Lillian lives in New York City, but reunions are always heartwarming. After two years I finished up my undergraduate credits at the University of Utah, graduating with a major in elementary education and a double minor in sociology and music, receiving a Bachelor of Science Degree. This was in 1937. I then obtained a teaching job in the Salt Lake School District at a large elementary school on south State Street and continued in this teaching position for two years. Marriage to DaCosta After my divorce I began dating quite a bit while working in the Jordan School District and continued dating while teaching in Salt Lake after my graduation. Mose Thatcher was a very good friend of mine and of course his wife, Glade, was my sorority sister. One day he called me and told me he had a friend who had lost his wife and asked if I would consider going on a date with him. He said he and his wife would go with us on a dinner date. I said yes. He brought DaCosta Clark to the apartment and introduced us. He and Mose had made reservations at the Hotel Utah for dinner. We had a nice time and when DaCosta took me home he asked me out again for the very next day and I accepted. On our second date he took me up to a ski meet at Alta because skiing was becoming the big thing at that time They were having jumping and racing and it was supposed to be just wonderful--and it was. We didn't wear slacks like the girls do nowadays but dresses with hose. I was touched when he brought up a blanket and wrapped me in it so I would not get cold during the meet. He started dating me strenuously from then on during January of 1939. I didn't have time to date anyone else because he would come up to Salt Lake from Provo twice a week and we would do something. It was kind of nice to meet through good friends like Mose and Glade Thatcher. They had told me all about DaCosta and how much they liked him in dental school in Portland. We continued to date and once he brought his mother, Grandma Clark, up to meet me. I thought she was a good little sport to do all that. DaCosta's father had recently died and Erma, DaCosta's wife, had also passed away that same year. My cousin, Lucille Adamson, and her husband did many things with us during this time. They liked Da Costa very much. I loved the Admansons. I remember the first time DaCosta brought his children, Laura (5 1/2 years) and Cecil (2 1/2 years), up to meet me. How thrilled I was. Cecil was the cutest little thing I had ever seen, and so was Laura. I remember getting in the car and putting him on my lap and I thought he was just wonderful. I was never bothered nor concerned about marrying someone with children because this was a way to catch up on getting a family. I had been married before and we never had children. I felt that a whole decade of my life had been blocked out where I had not accomplished anything. I fell in love with the children and I think they felt warm and friendly toward me. DaCosta started taking me to Provo on our dates and I remember going into his office which was in the home on the avenue, the home where he and Erma had planned to live before her death. He was doing some remodeling and it was on this day that I first met Edith and Riley ("R.G"), his sister and brother. I felt quite confident about the whole thing--isn't that amazing! I felt this was an opportunity provided by my Heavenly Father to get going with my life and my family. That summer I had again moved up to Logan and was living with my mother. DaCosta traveled up there too and we had lots of good times getting more acquainted on rides and outings. He became acquainted with my mother and father over this time on his visits to Logan. We never did anything spectacular in our courtship. We would get in the car and go to dinner and for a ride. We didn't ever go to the theater or anything like that. We would never get in the car and say, "What should we do tonight?" We just let it evolve which was mostly visiting and getting acquainted. I had many boyfriends in those few years I spent in Salt Lake but I felt like he was the most intelligent and efficient man I had pursue me. I would never have been happy with a dullard. Whatever faults he had I felt I could overcome or put up with. I remember that the first night I met DaCosta, thinking he was pretty arrogant. I didn't worry about it though because I just thought he was trying to impress me. I thought he sounded a little pompous because he talked about his office and "his assistant" (Edith of course who was his sister). I just had the impression that "Boy, he is really trying to impress me!" But one of the things that attracted me to him was the children. I thought it was wonderful that I would be able to have these children and some of my own as well. I felt it was a good way to catch up on some of those years I had lost. Since living with him I have often felt his arrogance was a coverup for feelings of inadequacy. He was a nice looking man but a small man and I think he tried to make up for some undesirable personality traits he had developed. He was an interesting conversationalist and I thought he was a brilliant man--and I still think he was brilliant. I seemed to know right off the bat and so did he that we were meant for each other. I knew I had to handle the temple divorce from my first husband and it worried me because I knew what a serious matter it was. But I figured out how to do it by myself. I went down to the church offices and told them that I needed to know how to apply for a temple divorce--they called it an “annulment.” They told me to go home and write down all the facts and dates and mail them to the church offices. I went home and did it. It wasn’t hard. I was amazed. In about a week I received this certificate from President Heber J. Grant that stated that they had granted me an annulment. Isn’t that marvelous? The night before we were to get married we spent the evening with Harry and Cecile and R.G. and Merle. We had a laughing good time. The next day Harry and Cecile went with us up to the Salt Lake Temple. I was thirty-one at the time of my marriage to DaCosta in September of 1939. We didn’t go through for a regular endowment session. Looking back, I wish we had taken the time to go through because I don’t think DaCosta had been back for some time. I just think he needed to renew his covenants. They tell us to go back often. I didn’t know whether DaCosta was going to the temple regularly when I met him. All I knew was that he was a returned missionary and that Mose and Glade recommended him highly and that he was a successful dentist and had two darling children. I didn’t worry too much about his temple attendance. Since DaCosta’s younger brother Albert was off to dental school in Portland, he accompanied us on our honeymoon that far. We spent one night there and stayed with one of my very good friends who had married a dentist in Portland. We then started down the scenic coastal route through the redwoods and into San Francisco where they were holding the world's fair. We had a lovely, lovely time in San Francisco, setting aside our fears and cares of the world. After a two-week honeymoon we drove straight to the little house on the avenue in Provo. The recently remodeled home looked just darling with its new carpet and furniture in the bedroom--and a few wedding gifts in the different rooms. Grandma and Grandpa Merrill (Erma’s parents) gave us a bedspread for our bed. The Home on the Avenue Laura and Cecil came right from Grandma Clark's home where they had been living after Erma's death and we just started living immediately. I dropped into family living and I remember making clothes for the children right from the start. I sewed pants and shirts for Cecil and I can remember thinking, "I'll show DaCosta that I can sew then I'm not going to sew anymore." (Sewing was not my talent but I did get some cute little things made for both children.) I was used to children and I had been trained to live with children and take care of them and I enjoyed it thoroughly. That first year Laura entered first grade at the BYU Elementary School. Our little home at 261 North University Avenue was ideally located for school and church. I was always glad the home was there while the children were in elementary school rather than on the east bench from which children are bussed to school. We became active in the Provo Fourth Ward and I was called into the Relief Society presidency. Life became overwhelmingly filled with work and responsibility and joy and satisfaction. All went well and everyone thrived. I legally adopted Laura Gai and Cecil. DaCosta took me down to the courthouse and the necessary papers were signed. I think that was my role in life--sort of the mission I had been waiting for. I always felt that I had something to accomplish in life that would be important and I think it was getting married and raising a family. On March 29th, 1941, Mary Jean, my own first child was born. When Mary was nine months old our little family went to Chicago for six months where DaCosta finished specializing in oral surgery. Upon returning to Provo the children continued their elementary schooling at the BYU Elementary School located on lower campus at Sixth North and First East, Provo. As the little girls in the neighborhood came to the home to play with Laura Gai, a little singing group quite naturally evolved. Naturally I taught and accompanied then. They sang in various wards and at school functions. As a result Hermese Peterson, principal of the BYU Elementary School, called and asked if I would take over the music in the elementary school including the Christmas Cantata and Spring Festival. This was my introduction to BYU where I eventually spent twenty-two satisfying years in the College of Education. David Garn Clark, my second child, was born the next year in 1944. I now had four children, two boys and two girls. They were a joy to me all the days of their growing up. They continue to be my joy. DaCosta had Erma's picture up in the home for years and I was not going to be the one to ask him to remove it--because I was thoroughly accepting of polygamy when I married him. I knew he had a first wife and I was willing to accept that totally. But now I do not feel that way. I do not resent her. I hope she is able to do for him now that he has died. I’m not sure how I feel about being a second wife to DaCosta in the next life. If the Lord tells me that is what I should do then I will. I will go where the Lord wants me to go or do what he wants me to do. I have worked this out in my mind over and over again. Maybe I would choose to go it alone. I have read and studied about the three degrees of glory and maybe I will be in the celestial kingdom because there are different degrees within that kingdom. I don't think being a ministering angel would be an unhappy life. This is where you get your happiness in this life, through service. Eternal increase? I don't dwell on that too much. I'm expecting to make my own happiness there. I have had an education and an ability to make it through the blessings the Lord had given me. That is why I made it through the marriage. I knew that DaCosta had been sealed to another woman and had children from that marriage. What I didn't know is that he was not knowledgeable about the Gospel. He did not study the Gospel. He did not sit down and enjoy reading it. If I had known in our early marriage what I know now I could have done a lot for him. I could have helped him more than I did Gospel wise. Moving back to Logan As the years passed, a serious problem began to emerge in our marriage. It was complex and seemingly unsolvable. I felt I needed to take the children and move out of the home, most likely, to Logan. My mother was ill in bed from a stroke while my father tenderly cared for her that last year of her life. How much of a blessing she felt it was for him to be there. They were an independent couple. Even after the stroke she was still very rational and animated with people. With Mary and David, I drove up from Provo to Logan to visit and to share with her the fact that my divorce seemed imminent. I said, "I would really like to come up here and stay with you for a while. Getting away from Provo would make me feel much better." She replied, "Not for a while. Just a wait a while." I said, "OK." How strange. She must have known she was near death. She died shortly thereafter. Two months later, just after school let out, DaCosta and I went through a divorce and I took the children to Logan with the intent of staying for the summer but our stay lasted four years. Since the children had been used to going to Logan to visit they all felt comfortable living there and I did not feel the move was particularly traumatic for them. They attended church and got into the Logan life. DaCosta moved back to live with his mother, Grandma Clark, and I rented our home on the avenue to the Bushnells, a then young married couple. They are still my very good friends. Upon arrival in Logan, I called up the superintendent of schools and we chatted for a little while. He knew my family and offered to call the Utah State Laboratory School in my behalf. "You sound like you would fit in there," he said. I later called them and they wanted me to teach fifth grade rather than early childhood or first grade. So I did. I taught at the Whittier Elementary School which was at that time the laboratory school for training teachers at Utah State Agricultural College. I taught my subjects and, at the same time, helped train students teachers. As the lab school soon became overwhelmed with young student teachers, we gradually moved them out into the public schools for their student teaching. This same thing happened at BYU when I worked there years later. Teaching at Whittier was an interesting experience. I was about 40 at the time and I taught there for four years. The first time I went up there for school, up the hill, to the old building I thought, "Oh, goodness! How desolate it is." It was just a stark old building. But I went into the planning meeting before the opening of school and was welcomed warmly by the staff. And, it was not long until that place came alive to me and it was just a charming, lovely place to work. All the teachers were so creative. I think they accepted me as a teacher because of my music. Music has really been a blessing to me because there I did the music for all the celebrations and the creative dancing. We created the atmosphere with the music through stories and lessons. We would get the children in the mood for the music then they interpreted it in their dancing. They felt free of self consciousness. It was lovely. I did the spring festival and the Christmas program for the whole school. I think that's why they accepted me there as a teacher. It was just a lovely lovely experience. After mother passed away my father started spending most of his time in Wyoming with the boys on their ranches. Not having a car, I got a taxi to come every morning and pick the children and me up and take us to school. The first grade teacher became my very good friend. Older than I, she befriended me and looked after me. Every day after school she would take Mary and David and me home in her car. Cecil was down at the Woodruff Elementary school and Laura went to the Junior high. I put Cecil in the Woodruff so he could have a man teacher in his life at that point in time. Mary entered the Whittier in first grade. She had a wonderful teacher, Myrtle Jensen, who became my very good friend. She just thought Mary was great and of course I did too. David went to nursery school this first year then the next year he too had Myrtle. On the way up to the Whittier from my home each morning we would drop David off at this nursery school. I had shopped around to get him into that little school where they took very good care of the children. He had his lunch there and a nap then I would pick him up after my teaching day had finished. Because of these afternoon naps he tended to stay up later at night. So I would put all the other children to bed then I would spend my evenings playing with David, loving him and just enjoying him. I think that gave him stability. I was very concerned about not being with him during the day since he was so young. That was my biggest worry: whether or not it was injuring him for me to teach--but I don't think it did really. Now that he is a middle-aged man it doesn't seem to have hurt him any. He has always been outgoing and happy. He is now a very successful surgeon and has seven children. But anyway I had lots of lovely experiences there and Mary had lots of good experiences too. In the second grade she had Mrs. Nichols then Mrs. Chase in third. Mrs. Chase was another friend. She and I had gone to the old BY academy together in Logan. And, we had belonged to the Crimson Club together at the college. Returning To Provo During the four years we lived in Logan, DaCosta would come up on a regular basis, taking the children skiing, picnicking and out to eat. He would usually come up on weekends and stay at the Eccles Hotel, just two blocks from my father’s home. While our relationship did not improve significantly, I felt it to be in the best interests of the children to re-marry and move back to Provo. And so I did in 1951. All of us moved back into our little home at 261 North University Avenue in Provo. All the children were relocated into schools at their appropriate levels. After a year I received a letter from the principal of the BYU lab school. I guess they had heard about my teaching in Logan. The letter said, "If you are interested in a position at the BYU laboratory school, get in touch with us." So I did and they hired me as the kindergarten teacher at the elementary lab school. Charles Brown was the principal. I always thought that was a blessing and the Lord was taking care of me. He has opened up opportunities like this for me all through my life. Further Education at Teachers College, Columbia University I taught at the BYU lab school from 1952 to 1955 when I decided to go back to Teachers College, Columbia University for additional schooling. This was something I had always wanted to do. Edith Bowen, a wonderful teacher and person, influenced my life a great deal. She had been trained at Teachers College. Several of the women whom I admired greatly had also been trained there which increased my desire to go. So I took Mary and David and the three of us flew to New York on a funny old plane. I was there for six months working towards a masters degree. I had taken a few courses at BYU while teaching there so I had already started on this advanced degree. It was at Columbia that Mary first met Larry Gill, the fellow whom she later married. By this time Cecil had graduated from high school and had started at BYU. He and DaCosta stayed in Provo. Laura was married and had gone to Germany with Lynn who was in the armed services. Suzanne, their first born, was 17 months old. While in Germany, Laura gave birth to twins, so she had three babies about the same age. Sometimes I've regretted I did not go to Germany to help her instead of going to New York to school. But it all turned out alright anyway. When they came back from Germany they came right to our home in Provo and lived with us for several months until they were able to move to a new little home in south Salt Lake. Had I been able to remain in New York at Teachers College the entire year I would have been able to complete my masters degree. But DaCosta was pressuring me to return and I felt it my duty to come home--so I did after six months. Nonetheless, while there we had some marvelous experiences. Mary and David got more out of it than I did because they were able to travel around the area. They took the subway everywhere. I don't think things were quite as wicked and bad in the world as they are now. As soon as we arrived in New York we became active in the Manhattan Ward, one which takes very good care of its people. In fact my home teachers helped me find an apartment. We stayed in a temporary apartment until we found the one we ultimately lived in. It was an old fashioned apartment but we got a kick out of it. You walked down a long hall to get to your kitchen. The apartment was lined up in a straight line. People in the ward also helped me find a school for Mary because it was not safe to send your children to some of the public schools. I thought when I first arrived that I might have to just pick up and go home because we could not find a school for Mary but members helped us solve that problem. It was a girl’s school. I traveled out and met the principal. Mary, about 16 at the time, was accepted because she had had German lessons as a child at the BYU Elementary School. They took her on the premise that she needed to continue on with her language. It was a great joke because the German classes in Provo had been offered by BYU faculty members. There were always privileges and opportunities offered to everyone associated with BYU. Mary’s school was located across town from where we lived at Morning Side Heights which was near the Columbia campus. I went out with her one more time to show her the way and get settled. After that she went alone every day on the subway, then transferred onto a street car to reach school. It was the middle of winter and bitter cold. I remember bundling her up with her hood and scarf and mittens and everything. She loved the school and became involved with a little group of friends. They all belonged to different churches and I just thought it was great that she was having this opportunity to know all these good little scholars. They were from good families and were serious as far as education was concerned. The Agnus Russell School for children of the students and faculty was located right at Columbia, so I had no problem enrolling David in the fourth grade. He and I were right there on the same campus. Every day we had lunch together. I would go over to his little school and we would be together. Then I would pick him up and take him home and that comforted me because I was glad to be that close to him. He loved it and he loved his teacher. David and I had many interesting little sight-seeing excursions. We saw many interesting places and many interesting people. Both Mary and David loved New York. The semester ended the middle of January so we were there for Christmas. I had interesting experiences there in the New York schools. I had offers to teach in different parts of the country but I always told them I had a home and a family that I had to stay where I was located. I became very close to the teachers there. One teacher I met came to teach at a conference at BYU. If I could have stayed and finished my masters work at Columbia it would have been a lot easier for me. DaCosta came and got us after that first semester was over and drove us back. I put David in fifth grade at the BYU lab school where he finished his elementary training. Mary went to Farrer then to BY High. I remember her in cheerleading and all those activities and also her teacher Julia Caine whom everyone adored. She was an inspirational teacher. Mary graduated a year early from high school and then went up to Brigham Young University. She had her first year there before her little gang from high school arrived. I felt alright about that. When we returned to Provo from Columbia I went right into teaching at the BY lab school. I had planned not to return but one of the other teachers had to leave so I finished out the academic year teaching fourth grade. Returning to the kindergarten level I taught until 1960 at which time I was invited to go up on campus and teach and supervise in the College of Education. I supervised student teachers in schools surrounding the university and even up into the Salt Lake Area. My office was in the McKay Building and Asahel Woodruff was dean of the College of Education at that time. My academic rank at retirement was instructor. When we returned to Provo after our stint at Columbia, we entered a very busy time in our lives. DaCosta was engaged in a large practice and was on the go constantly. He was busy, busy, busy and never stopped until he retired. He was active in scouts, the Lions and Rotary Clubs, and in dental societies in Provo and Utah. When I go back over my old calendars, I don't know how we ever stood our busy life, but we did. We had a lot of responsibilities in the church and in the town. Before I left for New York, I was, as has already been mentioned, in the Fourth Ward Relief Society presidency, and daddy and Roy Johnson were in the Sunday School presidency. Always throughout our married life DaCosta had his group of men friends and they were always out fishing and hunting. Roy and Casey were his two closest buddies. It didn't bother me then but as I look back on it now I don't think it was very congenial with family life. He was always going and coming--and usually not gone long enough for me to catch my breath. He kept all his fishing and hunting equipment in the basement in that little house on the avenue. He would drag it up and through the kitchen and I would fix all kinds of food for him to take. He would be gone a couple of nights then bring it all back along with the fish and game that had been caught or killed. That was the part that I didn't like about it. He cleaned the fish then I'd help him prepare them for the freezer we had rented at Joe Seetaller’s storage. It was always filled with fish and wild game, usually venison and pheasants. The meat market would prepare his venison. I learned to season and cook it so it was quite edible but we didn't eat a lot of it. He had most of it ground up into deer burger. We used most of it to make chili and sloppy joes to feed the scouts that DaCosta brought to the home. We also made deer burgers for the large groups of young people in the campus ward with which he was affiliated as a high counselor. In Chile or sloppy joes you could hardly tell is was venison. While I had outside interests like literary league, my friends, and my teaching, I did spend a lot of time supporting DaCosta. But I never felt it was a burden because I thought that was what wives were supposed to do. My only criticism is that there was too much of it. I don't know why there was so much activity unless it was because DaCosta felt he had to crowd every moment of his life with it. He needed to be busy and to be with people. He never spent any time alone, and he never spent much time reading. He did not settle down in a chair because the moment he did so he fell asleep. He was very active and he had to be with people all the time. I used to feel wounded that he would never take me out alone on dates, out to dinner. Later on we did a little of that but it was always in connection with a medical meeting or some other group with which he was affiliated. As far as just going out to a play or show or concert, just the two of us, we never did that because we were always with a group. DaCosta's needs for recognition went on and on and even grew as he became older. Different organizations and groups honored him for his public work. That was all right, and I accepted all of it and even converted one of the bedrooms in our new home into a little study for him. I covered the whole wall with his plaques and honors. When he passed away I was happy to turn them over to Cecil so they could be cared for. Who will care to have them after Cecil? Who is next in line? Further Education at Stanford University I continued teaching at Brigham Young University until 1973, a period of twenty-two years. During this time I finished my masters degree at BYU. To further my schooling, I attended Stanford University in 1965 for a summer during my sabbatic leave. It was during this time that Cecil and Gaile were living there as students while he was completing his Ph.D. DaCosta and I went down to his graduation, which was a wonderful experience, and I have some sweet little pictures of that. The graduation was held out-of-doors in the amphitheater in a beautiful spot there on the campus. Then I stayed to go to summer school there. Cecil, who was getting ready after his graduation to go to Seattle where he had a position with the University of Washington, took me over to the school and introduced me around, which was very kind of him and sweet of him. He also helped me get an apartment in a high rise that was right there on campus, which was nice for me, and I finally got a very nice parking space that was right up against the Education Building. He helped me get registered, too, bless his heart. He just helped me get situated and established, and I had a nice experience there. I remember when Cecil and Gaile and their little family packed up and moved to Washington State. The last night they brought the two little girls over to sleep with me in my apartment because they had to do the last-minute cleaning on their apartment. That’s always a struggle-- to get your deposit back, you have to leave your apartment just perfectly acceptable, which is all right. That’s fine and that’s as it should be. I remember I just appreciated Cecil and Gaile being there to help me get registered and started in school and then I had this lovely experience of having the two little girls sleep over at my apartment the night before they left. I remember seeing them off with their car loaded to the top with everything they owned for their trip to Washington. I had an apartment by myself, which also was a blessing, because I appreciated being alone. And I appreciated being so close to the campus because even as early as that time I was having trouble with my feet and back, and I couldn’t have walked any distance to get to the campus. So that was another of the blessing--being so close to school. I enjoyed my classes and I had my car with me because of our having driven down together to attend Cecil’s graduation. I have a sweet picture of him in his cap and gown holding his two darling little girls, just babies about three and one. I met some professors and had some close associations down there during the eight weeks I was there and I enjoyed that. I went to the Palo Alto Ward because of an experience I had after I had been there for a while. I was out to lunch one day with some of the friends I had made at school. We had decided to break loose from my academic activities and have a little fun, so we went out to lunch at a very charming out-of-door place with sort of a bower effect with vines and flowers and things growing overhead and all. There I saw an old friend of mine from college, Erma Lloyd. I had been very close to her and she was living in Palo Alto. I hadn’t planned to get in touch with her, but after I ran into her we saw quite a bit of each other and that made my trip down there more meaningful and more fun. She also persuaded me to come to the Palo Alto Ward. At the end of the eight weeks of summer school, DaCosta flew down because I had my car there. That was a blessing, too, although I was a little bit timid about driving on the freeway because even in those days there was so much traffic streaming along the highways. So when DaCosta came to get me we went to church with my friend, Erma, and her husband. After church we all went out to lunch together and then DaCosta and I drove back to Utah, and that was the end of that summer. Summing up my educational and professional history at Brigham Young University, I was a kindergarten teacher, a fifth grade teacher, an instructor of college students, supervisor of student teachers (kindergarten through sixth grades), and supervisor of early childhood education. Beyond BYU, I have been State President of the Utah Association for the Education of Young Children and State Vice-President of the Association of Childhood Education International. While serving in these organizations I have made many precious acquaintances and traveled to educational conferences in Tucson, San Francisco, New York, Chicago and Portland. I also launched and taught a young mother’s class in Provo City under the sponsorship of Adult Education. I have been a board member of the Utah Valley Opera Association for several years and the Utah Valley Symphony Guild. And, along with some of my oldest and warmest friends in Provo, I have for years belonged to the Literary League. Moving into the New Home We waited too long in our married life to move into a new home. Mary and David were the only two left by the time DaCosta felt secure enough financially to move out of our beloved home on the avenue. For months we had planned a new home to be constructed at 1981 North 1450 East in Provo. Ultimately the home full of memories on the avenue would be turned over to Clarks For Her, a fine woman’s store. Now, many years later, it is part of an old building which has under gone various renters and multiple face lifts. One day it, along with other buildings on the 200 block, will be razed to the ground and replaced with modern buildings. The new home was on the drawing board for many months and then carefully constructed under the watchful eyes of Elman Jackman and DaCosta. Laura, Cecil and Mary never really lived in the new home but how very much their children came to love its sprawling lawns and spacious nooks and crannies. It, too, now has a wealth of memories: parties, celebrations, food, reunions, family gatherings. The home has always been open to church groups, faculty, neighborhood groups, scouts, BYU students, David’s college friends, grandchildren and everyone! Once in the new home and new ward, many changes rapidly took place. I was called to be Junior Sunday School Coordinator of East Sharon Stake. DaCosta was on the high council in the BYU First Stake at the time. Mary was married early in 1960, and Cecil was married the following September. Suddenly the new house was almost empty. This era also brought me new opportunities to travel, usually with DaCosta and usually to professional meetings. We traveled to many large cities, parks and recreational areas going to dental conventions and scout executive meetings. For several years DaCosta was president of the Utah National Parks Council of Boy Scouts of America. He also presented many lectures on new oral surgical procedures in such favorite places as Jackson Hole, Vail, San Diego, San Francisco, Lake Louise, Banff and Jasper National Parks in Canada, and some parts of Mexico and Hawaii. And, attending the births of grandchildren has taken us to Seattle, New York, Cleveland, Hartford, Philadelphia, and Logan. Death of DaCosta and a Harvesting of Memories DaCosta did not retire early enough which left too little time for family life once he quit his practice. He grew old very quickly during his short retirement and became increasingly ill with congestive heart failure and illnesses related to a breakdown of his autoimmune system. Perhaps his early death could be traced in part to never having taken very good care of himself during most of his life: he always ate everything he wanted to eat, never exercised, and lived a high stress life. But he probably would never have changed the way he lived given the chance to do it all over again. DaCosta died on December 8, 1979, while in his bed at home. He brother and friend, R.G. was there during the last moments and it was he who pronounced DaCosta dead. After his death I stayed in my beautiful home in Provo for four more years. During those years I had nephews, nieces, grandsons and granddaughters visit me and stay for short periods of time (some for the entire semester or for summer school) as they adjusted and got settled as students at BYU or in jobs. This helped me overcome my loneliness. I loved having them. I had sharp and loving memories of: Mark, David and Suzanne Stewart, Connie, Jennie, Jeanne, Bruce and Bryce Cook, and Laura Gill. Mary Beth Cook Ivie lived in Orem and was a comfort to me. She always brought her wonderful little ones to sing Christmas carols to me each year. I always had happy, strong young people around to trim the big Christmas tree we had in our living room. The December DaCosta died, Lisa (David’s wife) decorated a little tree for my family room. One weekend when the Stewarts came down from Logan, their twins Steven and Scott decided to climb to the “Y.” Unknown to everyone, Mark decided to follow. He was about eight years old. I was a very hot summer day. When they finally arrived back completely exhausted and very thirsty, Mark confided in me in a trembling voice, “Grandma, I thought I was going to die!” Steven and Scott dressed up one day in Scottish costumes and did a song and dance they had performed in a Primary program. They were shy and reluctant to do it, but they did it beautifully and effectively. Bless their hearts, they are now loving and effective fathers of their own children. I love the memory of Mark Stewart and Brian Gill dressing up like Indians and dancing on the lawn while we, their audience, sat on the east patio with tears of joy in our eyes as they performed touching, creative movements. Brian’s family had recently driven through South Dakota where they had witnessed the genuine, real live famous Indian jamboree. Brian was so moved emotionally by the whole affair that he wanted to express with his cousin Mark the beauty of it. They had raided my bathroom for make-up to paint themselves and had made head gear and loin cloths with cloth from my costume box that had a leopard design. When Mark was a grown young man working one summer in Provo, he lived with me and I enjoyed him. Each day when he came home, he would sit outside the front door in one of the wicker rockers and take off his muddy boots. Those were precious days! David Stewart stayed with me also one summer driving a huge flat-bed truck back and forth to work. We tried to rent a place to park it off the street each night but failed at that so he parked in right in front of my yard and no one complained thank goodness. I had understanding neighbors. How I loved Suzanne living with me one summer when she was studying to become a paramedic. I still feel especially close to her and her children. She is a skillful and wonderful little mother of six children. Her oldest son just returned from a mission and a daughter has been attending Utah State University in Logan. They have a lovely home in Wellsville, Utah. How I love going back to beautiful Cache Valley where I grew up. Lynn and Laura are so good to me. They drive me all over this beautiful valley when I am able to visit them. The LDS Tabernacle and Tabernacle Square in Logan are so precious to me. The old Eleventh Ward met in the tabernacle for years where I was the organist from the time I was twelve until I married and left the ward. Lynn’s father sang in the choir in that ward and was my good friend. In that ward Lynn’s mother was president of the Primary and I admired his sisters Gaile and June as they walked past my home as little girls going to Primary. In those days Primary was held on a week day afternoon. The Stewarts lived on first east just down the street a little way from the Cook home where I grew up. My mother knew and loved Lynn’s grandparents, the J.Z. Stewarts. When Lynn grew up and returned from his mission and began to court our Laura Gai, I was pleased, and encouraged the romance because my family respected and had known and associated with the Stewarts over the years: God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform. Let me tell you about my children of whom I am also humbly proud: Laura Gai, DaCosta Cecil, Mary Jean and David Garn. I have always known they were choice spirits sent to me by a loving Heavenly Father to love and rear during their earth lives. How blessed and privileged I have been! I have loved them devotedly and they have returned that love and we have always been happy together. This is true of the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren as well. They have always been active in the Church, fulfilling assignments diligently and respecting and honoring their Priesthood. I have never lived in a home without the Priesthood. I am impressed with the magnitude of this fact and deeply grateful. This great love extends to the spouses of my children as well: Lynn Stewart (Laura’s husband), Gaile Woodruff (Cecil’s wife), Larry Gill (Mary’s husband), and Lisa Bankhead (David’s wife). What a choice group! I love them as if they were all my biological children. I realize this feeling for them is Heaven sent. I thoroughly enjoy and appreciate them. I could write volumes of good things about them. This I know: All of my four children and their spouses are “pure in heart.” What more could a mother ask? I am humbly grateful. My heart is full. Others in my Life Grandma Clark was a beautiful little meek woman like women were supposed to be in those days. The woman's role then was quite different: she cooked elegant meals and had babies. Those were the two big things in her life. She took care of the children and saw that they were dressed, fed and kept well. I don't think she had much time to teach them spiritually or in any other way because all her efforts were to keep them well physically. When Grandpa Clark (James Cecil, DaCosta’s father) was home he was just enjoying all the babies and the good food she had prepared. She had nine children. I have always loved Grandma Clark and I have missed her. After my own mother and father, she is the one I most want to see after I die. I am especially close to her because we were the same type. We were the same complexion and we liked the same clothes--and I think she truly loved me. I think we were attracted to each other. We were kindred spirits. Right to her dying day I would go up and visit with her, sitting close and talking in her ear. DaCosta would sit in the big lounge chair and sleep while I was there and he would eventually arouse and say, "Let's go." After DaCosta died I continued to go up and talk with her for long periods of time. I would tell her what I was doing and what the children were doing and that was meaningful to her. I truly believe all the nine brothers and sisters accepted me and loved me-- I truly believe they did. Grandpa and Grandma Merrill (Amos and Eliza Merrill, Erma’s father and mother) did too. They and Grandma Clark were just one hundred percent supportive. As I look back it was almost as if it were planned by some higher power. The Merrills told me they could not have chosen anyone better to fit into this role. Grandpa Merrill was dean of the College of Education. He had one of the most attractive personalities I have ever encountered. We had a lot of fun together and we related well to each other. We would laugh and have fun together. I loved Grandma Merrill too but she seemed a little more serious and would often tell me of the hard times she had during the early part of their marriage, the physical hardships women had in those days because they did not have the marvelous medical help we have nowadays. She was quite intimate with me but he was the one you had fun with because of his bubbling personality. After I married DaCosta they were so devoted to me. They would come and see me and I thought that was a good sign. I was perfectly at home with them. In fact for years I felt they were the best friends I had in Provo. Even when I moved to Logan they came to see me. I dearly loved them both and look forward to seeing them again. Grandma Clark loved them as well. She would go to them after losing her husband and ask for advice in raising her teenage boys. Edith also went to them for advice whenever she had problems. DaCosta's friends, Roy, Casey and others, were good-time boys. They liked to get out and let their hair down. They played a lot of jokes on each other that I thought were so sophomoric but they all thought a great deal of each other and loved their fishing and hunting trips. They loved to get away, in fact they were on a fishing trip when David was born so Edith drove me to the hospital. I always felt their trips were a release from the work-a-day world and that was alright. These kinds of renewing activities were certainly foreign to me. My men folk in my family did not live that way at all. In fact they were just the opposite. DaCosta's friends were fundamentally good but a little childish. The advice coming to us more and more is that a man's role is with his family, his spouse and his children. Of all DaCosta's friends, I think Casey was about as high class as any of them. He was a true gentleman. He was from a good stable family himself. Moving To Denver As time passed after the death of DaCosta, I worried more and more about having to care for our lovely new home. There was always so much to look after: the lawns, the plants and flowers, the watering, the weeds, the repairs, the cost of heating and air conditioning. And, there was the loneliness. Though I lived in a safe neighborhood I was a widow, alone in a large home. I longed to be with my family, to live in the security and safety of one of the their homes--and to be with the grandchildren. I have always been especially close to Mary and she along with the other children encouraged me to sell the home. Then she insisted that I come to live with her in Denver and they would convert part of their home into a private living quarters for me. I finally decided to leave my wonderful Provo friends and associates, and a new home full of memories, and move to Denver where I could be nearer Mary’s family. I felt the Lord helped me with my move to Denver. I didn't think it out rationally nor plan it far in advance. It seemed to me that I was gently lifted over to Denver by the hand of the Lord. My children came and we all felt good about it and they helped me get moved. Larry and Mary especially seemed to feel it was the thing to do, and they made me feel like they wanted me rather than doing it out of a sense of duty. I feel blessed because they have been so good to me. One of my contributions here in Denver has been the close association I've enjoyed with Mary’s children, Laura and Kathy. They were in their school years when I first came. They would come into my bedroom and sit cross legged on my bed and I would be there in my favorite chair across from them. They would talk and I would talk, and we would have fun way into the night. That close relationship was important. I also feel like I have been able to help David's children, especially the one little boy, Michael, who was born while I was living here in Denver. Right from his infancy I felt that I could help his mother by helping take care of him. I was driving my car then and I would go get him and bring him over here. I became so attached to him and I felt closer to him than David's other children--although I loved them all dearly. I felt so close to Michael and I still do. He is a special spirit. My great prayer in life is that he will have an opportunity to reach his potential. One of the reasons I feel so close to him is that I bonded with him during his babyhood. I had him with me a lot of the time. We would go to the library and the market and the toy store and to the parks for all the kids to play. All of that was significant to me after I moved from Provo. After I moved I seemed relieved of all the pressures we had lived with in our busy life in Provo. But I left some deep friends in my Provo Oak Hills Fifth Ward. I am still in touch with them. The Golden Twilight It is now the spring of 1996 and I am 88 years old. I’m living very comfortably in my quarters in the home of my daughter Mary and her husband Larry Gill. They are very good to me and I love and appreciate them more than words can say. Larry is a patriarch in our stake and he performs his blessings here on Sundays. Mary is president of our ward Relief Society. She has many meetings here also. They both enjoy their new home and appreciate having it available for all these functions. Mary is also the principal of the new high school which will be opening here in late summer. She is busy with the duties and functions of getting ready for that, such as interviewing for the new faculty. Of course she is still principal of the Mountain View School. We all love it here in Highlands Ranch, a suburb of Denver. From my bedroom window I can see the roof and tower of the Denver Temple and, in the distance, I can see Metro Denver. It is beautiful at night with the glittering lights. We love our new ward composed mostly of young professional people and their young children. Mary’s son, Dr. Brian and his wife Dawn Ann and their four little boys live in a lovely new home in our ward. Mary’s daughter Cathy and her husband Darin Ray and their lovely three blond children also live in our ward. My youngest son David lives here in Englewood, another Denver suburb. His oldest son James, a senior in college, is in the mission field. Jenny, David’s youngest, is in first grade. She joins my other great grandchildren in all of our celebrations. We have great Easter egg hunts, birthday parties and so forth. Katie, David’s daughter, has been accepted at BYU and will enter there in August, 1996. I couldn’t be in a more ideal situation. The houses nowadays are designed so that all occupants can have complete privacy if they so desire. I have a private bathroom and two large closets and an attractive bedroom altogether in one unit. I have some of my own favorite pieces of furniture in my bedroom. Among other things, I have two over-stuffed chairs. It is sort of a sitting-room bedroom. There is also a large bay window on one side of the room which I enjoy. I also have some paintings on the walls which we had in our home in Provo. Nathan, one of my great grandchildren comes here every day at 3:00 from his school near here. He has a little treat of something tasty and then I read to him for a little while before his mother comes to pick him up. It seems to be a comfort to him and it certainly is to me. I enjoy all of my little group of great grandchildren. Needless to say, I am happy and contented here. I am blessed with good eyesight and I read a great deal. Mary’s daughter Cathy and her sister-in-law, Dawn Ann are my dearest friends. They take me where I need to go and they run errands for me; without them I would be quite curtailed. I love their companionship dearly and enjoy them more than words can tell. They are active in the ward and they visit with me extensively, a great comfort to me. They bring their children here to play. Our basement is carpeted and fitted with many wonderful playthings: books, a playhouse, and toys. There is a bathroom and other rooms downstairs and it is a fun place to be in the bitter winter. The out-of-doors is fun in summer where there is outdoor equipment on which to climb and swing and jump. Cecil and Gaile came to see us last weekend, April, 1996. They drove here from Provo, Utah, and we had a lovely time together. They usually come during a break in Cecil’s schedule at BYU. Sister Bankhead, Lisa’s mother, was visiting David and Lisa at the same time. She is also from Provo. We all got together and went out for dinner several evenings while they were here; it was refreshing for all of us. There are so many interesting places to dine nowadays in Denver. I feel so close to Gaile and love her very much. I love visiting with her and discussing all of life’s experiences with her, and laughing together about our child-rearing episodes. She and Cecil have six very attractive and interesting children and we have both had our challenges. Haven’t we all? They have four married children all in the process of caring for their little families. Stacy, married to Brian Hansen, has three children. Tamara, married to Kevin Pinder, has four children. Cheri, married to Brian Kohler, has one child, and Brett and Laura Clark have one child and another on the way. All of these are young married people. Allyson and Scott, their two youngest children, have not reach marriageable age yet. I can’t wait to see them all at our reunion in July, 1996. We are planning the DaCosta Clark Family Reunion in the latter part of July, 1996, in Logan. We have had the last few reunions in Park City, but now we are going back to the town in which I grew up. I’m surely looking forward to it. There are now 64 persons in my family and one or two on the way. I can’t believe it! It overwhelms me and I am grateful for every single person and I love every single person in our family. I am looking forward to the reunion with great eagerness. Ours is a closely knit family. All couples are married in the temple and they all enjoy associating one with another. This makes me very happy and contented. How things have changed since pioneer days as far as education is concerned. We should all be grateful for the many educational opportunities we have. I truly believe we are grateful. I am tempted to record the wonderful educational achievements of my children and grandchildren but that is a long and marvelous story which I shall have someone else record. Needless to say I’m proud of my family’s educational experiences and achievements. In June, 1996, there are four eminent events in our family: James’ missionary farewell and departure; Jason, Suzanne’s son, returns from his successful and happy mission; our family reunion; and Katie entering BYU in August. The Gospel In My Life I have absorbed the great lessons learned in my life. I have always had a testimony. It has never been a problem. I cannot understand why people sometimes have a hard time struggling to gain a testimony because I've always had one, even as a child. I've had a simple child-like faith, faith in the Lord, never doubting. That has grown and continued to grow until now it is a very strong testimony. I have always been so blessed, and I've had a hard time understanding why the Lord has been so good to me. I just feel like His ministering angels have been with me all through my life. I have had some experiences which could have been dangerous but I feel like He has taken care of me and guided me through them. That is the thing which has given me greater faith. Even when I haven't deserved His protection I think I have been protected because of my parents. They have always prayed for my protection. I've been through some hard times but through it all I've been happy and I think the Lord has blessed me. My growth in the Gospel has been gradual. When I was in Boston I was with non LDS people all the time and I think the Lord protected me amongst them. I remember I used to walk from our apartment along Fenway Park. Once a man approached me and wanted directions to someplace and I was just at the point of saying, "Well, I'm a stranger here and I don't really know," which would have been the wrong thing to say. I don't remember what I said to him but right then and there I realized what was happening and I knew that someone was protecting me. This was one little tiny incident in my life. There have been others which helped build my testimony. When I lived in Providence, Rhode Island, I had a few men who certainly gave me the chance to go off the beaten track had I been so inclined, but again I was protected. These continuous experiences have led me to believe I have been protected all my life. I have been shielded from harm and danger. I had one other interesting experience of a different nature which has helped build my testimony. We met this lovely woman, Mrs. Alice B. Herrington. I had forgotten her name for years. I don't know who sent me an announcement of her death, some friend I suppose. Then her name came back to me and I think I'll meet her again some time. I think she will become a member of the church. She was a very distinguished woman who studied birds, the state ornithologist in Massachusetts. She owned a small cottage out in Concord or Lexington and invited all of us Utah students to come out for visits. She took me under her wing, befriended me, and I used to go to her home alone after my husband Russell went to Providence to start his medical internship. She would invite me out to stay with her in this most interesting little cabin in the woods filled with antiques. I was not terribly interested in birds but she was surely a gracious woman going about the Boston area giving bird lectures. We once invited her to a church program where of course she could neither smoke nor drink coffee. She became so sleepy I don't think she got much out of it, but she was interested in us as a group and me as a little young friend. I feel terribly guilty I did not keep in touch with her after I came back to Utah but mothers become so busy with their children. But when I die I feel sure I will meet her and convert her. That's why I'm going to be a missionary. Before Going Beyond the Veil When I retired from BYU twenty years ago, I felt like I hadn’t accomplished my mission in life yet. I thought, "There’s something I must do." In addition to the close association I’ve had with David and Mary’s families over here, I’ve been able to go to the temple, too, which has been a blessing. I don’t think I’d have moved in the beginning if there had not been a temple here in Denver. I haven’t done as much temple work as I should but I’m going to try to do quite a bit more before I die. And then I’m hoping now that I will live to see the day when David’s son Jeffrey is doing well, living a normal happy life. I could die tomorrow if I were assured of that. Because I’ve had a close relationship with him and he has a lot of faith in me, I hope that I can still be of some influence in his life for good and a comfort in his life. That’s what I want to accomplish. One other thing I’d like to accomplish is to unify my family. They have always loved each other and enjoyed being together, but I want them to especially have a spiritual unity so that they can comfort each other, support each other, sustain each other, and all have faith together to help each other with their families. By their families I mean not only this generation, but all the lovely grandchildren and great grandchildren, too. I hope that through the spiritual unity of my four children these grandchildren will have strength and faith to see that their families all cling to the iron rod and live righteously so that we can keep the chain strong without any broken links into the next life. We need to take all of these children with us. My Testimony Gratitude is the overwhelming emotion of my life. I am so grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been my comfort and anchor throughout my life. I cannot remember when I didn’t have a testimony. From a child-like belief which was very real and sincere, my testimony has spiraled upward, growing in strength and maturity and substance. I know my Heavenly Father lives and also his Son Jesus Christ, my redeemer. They are very real and close to me. Through prayer, I can communicate with them. I have experienced their marvelous closeness. I also appreciate and love the Holy Ghost who guides, directs, and comforts me. I am grateful to my father and mother who taught me the Gospel from my earliest childhood. In my childhood home we learned and lived the Gospel. We had family prayers and personal prayer and we went to church each Sunday. We fasted, paid our tithing and our fast offerings. We were taught the Gospel by our parents, both mother and father. I thought all families lived like we lived until I grew up and learned that our way was unique. My grandparents, the Cooks from England and the Livingstons from Scotland, left their homes and came to America. They traveled to Utah under extreme hardships for the sake of the Gospel. Brigham Young asked them to go to Sanpete County and settle the area. They tried to live the Gospel principles which required many sacrifices. Their sons and daughters were my parents. Hence, my parents also made sacrifices for the Gospel’s sake. They lived the principles as strictly as they could and we children were taught to follow their example. I’m grateful for my childhood home and the environment in which I grew up. I’m grateful for my pioneer ancestors. This I know: Joseph Smith went into the sacred grove as part of his personal quest for understanding and salvation. There he received a vision of the Father and the Son. Through Joseph Smith, a prophet of God, the Gospel was restored in its fulness. How great a man was this Joseph Smith! I know that the Book of Mormon is another testament of Christ and that all the presidents of the Church since Joseph Smith have possessed the authority which was restored through him. I know that Gordon B. Hinckley is the prophet, seer and revelator to the world at this time. I deeply believe in the power of prayer. Oh, the marvelous and heavenly experiences I have had with prayer! We must study and learn of the Lord and stay close to Him through prayer. The Lord has watched over me, even during periods in my life when I have been inactive and careless about attending Church. These periods have been short, thank goodness. I have always retained my testimony. I am deeply grateful for the Priesthood of God. I have had the Priesthood in every home in which I have lived. My father, brothers, sons, and husband have all held the Priesthood. I thank my Heavenly Father for this marvelous blessing and pray that I may live worthy of all the blessings the Lord has poured down upon me. I thank my Heavenly Father for the Gospel plan of salvation. I’m thankful I’m a member of the Church. I’m thankful for my honest, devout, humble, faithful parents. I am thankful for the temple experiences I have had and the vows I have made there. I’m deeply grateful for the precious spirits who are my children and whose care I am privileged to have had. How I have enjoyed them. Thank thee Heavenly Father for thy love and protection and tender care thou hast given me throughout my life. How great thou art. How great thou art! Humbly, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen. Reflections by Laura Gai Clark Stewart My first remembrance of Hazel Cook Clark, occurred for me when I was about six years old. One day a beautiful, brown eyed, dark brown haired lady came to see me. Of course she brought the book Ping. Ping ultimately became and still is my favorite classic book. Next came a trip. Daddy took Grandma Clark, Hazel, Cecil and me to Fish Lake. What a good sport she was! I didn’t really think fishing at 5:00 am, climbing steep hills, or living in a camp cabin were her favorite activities to do but she smiled and happily went forth. When Hazel became our mother we didn’t really know what to call her, Aunt Hazel, mother or whatever. One day Cecil and I were down the basement calling in quiet voices, “Mother, Mother.” She appeared at the top of the stairs smiling and calling us to her. We next appeared on her lap hugging and crying. One day I remember was when we had pictures taken. I had on a white blouse (mother ironed with creases in a little puffed sleeves) and a new plaid shirt. Cecil wore a little outfit mother had proudly made. After a spiffy job on our hair, we were ready. Mother always made sure my cowlick was in place with wet fingers or wave set. From Mother I learned many skills. I learned how to make white sauce and egg fondue. A skill I still enjoy is ironing. I can remember how Mother showed me how to position garments and pull in just the right places. I was even able to put the creases in baby Mary’s dresses. Mother carefully taught me how to wash with the old wringer twin tub Dexter. Pinning starched curtains on the old mail covered stretcher was a learning experience. Mother taught me how to take down, wash, wax and put up the old wooden Venetian blinds. Mother cooked early morning breakfasts for the hunters and fishermen. She packed lunches for these men. There was always an orange sponge cake (made from scratch) on top. I loved evenings when we were in our “PJ’s” as Mother called them. It was time for skipping to “La la la la la la la,” the famous skipping music, or sing and act out, “Here we come on our ponies, our ponies, our ponies. Stop a minute just to say, Oh, how are you doing this sunny day? And off we go. We are going to Boston, to Boston, to Boston. We are going to Boston to have some fun.” She gave me a love of music and books. I learned from mother to have a clean entrance into the house, where there is heart room there is hearth room, enunciate your words, stand tall, be humble, pray, feed children before they are ravenous, baths always work for children as you are trying to reposition their attention--besides it’s therapeutic, and have a good attitude even if you don’t. Mother has been kind and loving to me. I appreciate that she has sacrificed for me. Thanks for taking care of me when I had those terrible chicken pox, for sneaking my Christmas dress out of the package so I could wear it to the Christmas party at school and sneaking it back. Thanks for not scolding me when you took the flashlight away from me as I read under the covers. Thanks for putting up with my little white mice all over the house. I love you dearly. Reflections by DaCosta Cecil Clark As a three-year old child who could scarcely experience the death of his mother I fell immediately into the nurturing arms of my “new” mother. I do remember insecurity, free-floating anxiety, fear during those early years, all of which were lovingly absorbed by Hazel. My most fundamental lessons about life have arisen from mother’s example and coaching: life is full of hard work--and do the job right; you sacrifice whatever is needed; music is therapeutic; take a bath to ease your problems; material things are “no better than we are;” “everything will turn out all right if you just live right;” “I wish I could go through this hardship for you!” Mother always placed our welfare before her own. Indeed, her mortal mission was our upbringing. She was ever concerned about our basic needs for food, clothing, belonging and love. Fully she provided them. I have never seen mother act in self centered ways or self promoting ways. On the contrary, she always sacrificed for the fulfillment of others, placing their wishes, interests and satisfactions above her own. How embarrassed I was as a sixth grader when mother promptly covered my gaping head wound with a sanitary napkin and led me straight into the doctor’s office. How discouraging to have to paint the entire porch with gray paint spring after spring, to whitewash the back fence while fighting off bushes and summer heat, to push the old lawnmower over grass too tall for a small boy to cut, to sweep out the garage every Saturday, to earn all my spending money, to enunciate correctly, to cease idleness, to play scales while the other boys played baseball. Yes, Mother taught me the value of work and to this day I am grateful. During those years of family separation, mother was ever vigilant in exposing me to good male models. She placed me with Mr. Cooper in sixth grade then sent me to the sheep herd each summer to be under the quiet tutelage of Uncle Bill, Uncle Loyal and Grandfather Cook. These were men of sterling quality and she wanted them to be in my everyday life. They were--and they have been. During high school and college years mother adjusted her nurturing to my maturing needs. She was patient with her counsel, never pressing yet always consistent. She possessed marvelous instincts about those with whom I associated. She knew, exactingly, those boys who would and would not be good influences in my life. Likewise with the girls I dated. During my high school years, for example, I dated steadily a girl whom I fully intended to marry. Mother approved of my dating her so I naturally assumed we had the green light to go ahead with our plans. One day Mother stunned me with a matter-of-fact comment: “Oh, yes, she is a nice girl--but not the girl for you.” Angered I retorted, “You don’t know her like I do. How can you possibly say that!” “I know alright--she is not the girl for you” was her aggravatingly calm response. Within a year or so I finally saw this girl through my mother’s eyes. Throughout my life she has been my protecting angel here on earth. Mission and marriage, the same: Always available, always offering down-to-earth and mother-inspired counsel. “You have always been such a darling boy and wonderful husband and father” is a recurring sentence uplifting me even now in times of sorrow and disappointment. I have always known she loved me. Only in my mature years have I been able to step back and marvel at the life and style of mother. She is truly a nurturing and sacrificing woman. But she is also effervescing, full of life and full of faith, yes full of faith and then some. Even now as we at times anguish over the decisions our children make she offers the same reassuring “Oh, honey, things will work out if you continue to have faith. You and Gaile will be blessed because you both live the Gospel.” What I earlier took to be a Polyanna faith I now see as true faith. She has empathy and compassion to each child, grand child and great, great grandchild who enters her bedroom. Mother demonstrates an encompassing, Christlike love to her family and friends--a loving model to us all. Reflections by Mary Jean Clark Gill Many of my memories of mother involve music. Mother was music for me. I have heard the classics she played on the piano drifting across the years; I remember her signature piece, “Da, da, da, DUM, da DUM, da, DUM, da DUM,” (You know, it’s the skipping along) played in syncopated jazzy style. Mother would jazz up “Come, Come Ye Saints” if she though the congregation wasn’t singing with enough gusto. Mother had music in her fingers and in her heart. For several years Mother led the Sunday School music in the old Fourth Ward in Provo. Do you remember how should would say every Sunday, “What song is singing in your heart this morning?” And when one of us responded we knew that would be our opening song or practice song that Sunday morning. Singing with Mother leading was fun because she loved all the spirited hymns: “If there’s Sunshine in Your Heart,” “Welcome, Welcome Sabbath Morning,” “Count Your Many Blessings.” When Larry and I moved to New York right after our marriage, our good friends the Fishes were both professional musicians. I remember how amazed Paul Fish was that I knew and could hum along to a repertoire of music he thought someone from Provo, Utah couldn’t possibly know. But that was the music Mother played for us to dance to when we were very young. Remember “Here We Come On Our Ponies?” “Open Up The Windows, Open Up The Doors?” “Rose, Rose I Love You?” Mother had a musical touch: she could sight read anything, and she could remember from memory music she had learned years before. Mother learned to play the piano in Fountain Green when when was just a little girl. She went every day to her piano teacher for a lesson. One day she dropped a small, leather music book into a little stream and immediately jumped in after it! Mother was the ward organist as a young teenager: she even went to Priesthood meeting to accompany the brethren. She says she went to so many meetings that she had to relay on her “mental mechanisms” to get her through. That meant she made up elaborate stories in her mind instead of listening! Mother’s legacy of music is a rich one for us. Whenever I see someone leading children in song, I think of Mother and the music she could get out of a group of children.

Some of my earliest memories are learning children's songs with Grandma Hazel. She would sit in her big chair and put us on her lap or have us sit around her as she taught us classic songs like "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" or "To market, to market to buy a fat pig. Home again, home again jiggity jig!" Whenever I hear songs like that now I think of her and her sweet spirit. I always knew that Grandma Hazel loved me. She would patiently let me come into her room to play with toy horses that she kept in her closet. It was little gestures of love such as these that let us, her great-grandchildren, always feel that we were important and special to her. Hazel's great-grandaughter, Emily Walker 25 July 2014

Grandmother ("Hazel" in my adult life with her) was the grandparent I knew best and spent the most time with of all my four grandparents. I spent my early childhood summers at her Provo home while my mother finished her undergraduate degree at BYU. I visited her home at least once or twice per year until my mission. I frequented her home during my college days at BYU when Dawn Anne and I were courting and in our early married days. She trusted me with everything--I often borrowed her red Chevy sedan for outings with Dawn Anne and Steve Grover. She had actually lived with us in South Denver (Oneida house) during 1975 when I had my driving permit. She was my adult companion when I learned to drive that entire summer. She later moved to the Denver area and lived in my parents home (Piedmont Dr and Piedmont Court) for eighteen or more years until her death. She is my grandmother that all my children (even Amy) knew and remember. Her buoyant attitude and classic quotes are still cherished by all in my immediate family. She allowed Dawn Anne to live in her home one semester while I was on my mission, so my grandmother became fast friends with my future wife. This richly blessed the two of them (and me as well) for years that followed as Dawn Anne took our children daily to her bedside or sitting room to visit. Hazel wove some her magic thread of optimistic living into my heart and I am indebted to her for this treasure.

My Grandmother, Hazel (Cook) Clark, was a woman of great faith, dignity and poise. I will be eternally grateful to her, because of her willingness to take on the responsibility of raising my own dear mother, (Laura Gai Stewart) as her own daughter. My mother’s birth mother (Erma Janet Merrill) passed away when she was only 5 years old. Grandma (Hazel) did not believe in the term “step” parent, but rather she loved her adopted children (Laura and Cecil) the same as her own birth children (Mary and David). I attribute much of the great person that my mother is, due to having such a good mother to raise her. Also, if it hadn’t been for Grandma’s moving to Logan for a time and living with her father (who happened to live in the same ward as the Stewart family) then my parents would have never met. I spend time every summer with Grandma at the house in Provo. Those are among my most fond childhood memories. We were usually there with our cousins, the Gills from Denver, and the Clarks, who lived in Provo. She would always make sure that we had plenty of wholesome activities to keep our attention. For example, she would leverage her alum status from BYU to get us into the student center for bowling, or Heleman Halls dorm swimming pool. She loved to read and would typically take us to the BYU bookstore and allow us to pick out books that she would buy for us to take home and read. Grandma was a great host. She loved music. I remember sitting around the piano in the living room while she would play and sing songs or sit on the back patio and enjoy a summer evening watching the sun go down over the Utah Valley. One of her favorite sayings was “where there is heart room, there is hearth room”. I’ll never forget a funny experience that I had with Grandma. When I first returned from my mission, I was working as a truck driver to earn money for college. During that summer, I stayed many nights with Grandma, who at the time was widowed and living alone in the Provo house. I believe that she enjoyed having the company, and someone to help with some of the outside chores. I was concerned however, because, her house was in an upscale neighborhood, and each night I would park this big semi-truck, with a 40’ flatbed trailer in front of her house, which was not generally in keeping with the overall aesthetics of the neighborhood. I asked her several times during that summer, if she was okay with me parking the truck in front of the house and each time, she mentioned that it was fine, but I suspected that she didn’t really understand how big the truck was. One afternoon, as I was pulling up to the house, with the big (and load) diesel truck, Grandma happened to be outside at the mailbox. When she saw how big and loud the truck was, and the realization that I had been parking in front of the house all summer long, and how that might appear to her neighbors, her eyes were as big as saucers, and I could see the embarrassment in her face. Upon seeing her reaction, I asked her if she would feel more comfortable if I began parking the truck down the street near an empty lot, and she good-naturedly said that she thought it would be a good idea. When Grandmother later moved to Denver, I made an effort to stop by to visit her when traveling for business. On one such occasion, I picked her up, and took her to get groceries and for a ride to get out of the house. I will always remember that day, because we had an opportunity to talk one-on-one for an extended period, and Grandma opened to me about many topics. She spoke of her love and respect for her own father and how she enjoyed the time that she lived in Logan. She talked about what good people my paternal grandparents were. She shared how much respect that she had for her two sons-in-law, Lynn Stewart (my father) and Larry Gill. Specifically she believed that they are good men who provide a good balance and calming influence they provide for her daughters. She also shared her testimony and expressed her faith and love for the Lord. This was a very special conversation that I will always remember. When Grandma passed away and we attended her funeral, it was much more of a joyful than sad experience. We had the opportunity to reminisce, pay tribute to a great woman and celebrate the legacy of love and faith that she passed along to her family.

Life Story of Hazel Jean Cook Clark Compiled by D. Cecil Clark, Son August 8, 2008 HAZEL JEAN COOK CLARK Early Years in Fountain Green I was born on November 14, 1907 at Birch Creek, a small settlement about two miles south of Fountain Green, the only daughter of David Willard and Jean Livingston Cook. One year later, 1908, I moved with my family to Fountain Green, Sanpete County, Utah. Fountain Green is a beautiful little valley named after the place on the west side of the mountains from which came the water for this little town. I suppose it had a name, but we just called it “Big Creek.” “Cookville” is the name our family gave to the cluster of homes occupied by the Cook brothers, sons of William Francis and Jane Booth Cook. These homes were located at the north end of main street. Grandfather and grandmother’s (William Francis and Jane Booth Cook) house was on the east side of main street. My Uncle Tom’s beautiful white brick house was directly across the street on a corner, made lovely with pine and spruce trees. Across the street to the north was Uncle Lester’s home. It was a new red brick house with a curved front porch, a wonderful place for children to play. Beyond a garden plot to the north stood my father and mother’s little red brick house. From its windows, as a very small young child, I would look eastward to the hills and wonder what was on the other side of the mountain. North of my parents’ home was Uncle Frank and Aunt Zina’s home where my cousin Victoria and I spent happy childhood hours playing near the flower beds, garden plots and fruit trees. Across the lawns behind the homes were well-kept barnyards and sheds. Here as little children we romped in the yards of our cousins, played in the raspberry patches, became attached to the cows and calves, horses and colts. Here also we learned to work by doing our chores as we grew up. Everyone worked very hard. Here we saw the first automobiles of the century drive past our homes in clouds of dust as we clung to the fence posts with wide eyes. Here we enjoyed hot biscuits, jelly, cakes, pies, fresh vegetables and fruits--all homemade and home grown. I remember grandfather as an old man with a beard and gray hair. He was an early pioneer who with his wife came over from England. He worked with and for Brigham Young and was sent to Fountain Green to settle with the earliest pioneers. They had a few Indian troubles before my day. David, my father, was next to the youngest of his sons. They were all hard working men, very handsome, and they struggled. They had livestock, sheep and gardens. There were all self sustaining like the early people had to be in those days. After our grandfather died in 1914, one of us grandchildren would sleep with Grandmother each night to ease her loneliness. We took turns staying with her. We did not mind this. We thought it a privilege. We were impressed with her soft feather bed and her high-necked nightgown, ruffled nightcap and little bed slippers--all snowy white. How we grandchildren loved to slide off Grandmother’s high feather bed onto the soft warmth of the huge bearskin rug that lay beside her bed! To run our little bare feet through the soothing fibers was a most pleasant sensation. I enjoyed the simple breakfasts Grandmother and I had together. I was six or seven years old. Freshly cooked hot oatmeal was the regular fare. We sat at the kitchen table, the two of us completely contented. I was charmed with her direct, unassuming manner. I sensed she was aware of me as a real person and was making me a part of her own private world. Cosmetics were unheard of in those days. Her sole beauty aid was glycerine and rose water with which she rubbed her hands and face after washing with soap and water. I thought her beautiful and very feminine. Grandmother’s kitchen was a large, comfortable room carpeted wall-to-wall with homemade, hand loomed strips sewn together. On the south side of the room between two deep-silled windows was the door opening on a little side porch which overlooked the field to the south. We always entered Grandma’s house through this door, never the front door which opened to the west. Two huge lilac bushes graced the entrance to the yard. Grandmother always wore homemade, high-necked house dresses with long skirts to the floor. My father went to school in Fountain Green but only to about the fourth or fifth grade I think, if that far. But he was a great student. He read and studied and really was a self-made man. I guess all the Cook brothers were. My mother was a Livingston, and her family was made up of the same, self made people. Her father and mother were original pioneers, also. They lived on a big ranch two miles outside Fountain Green on what they called the Livingston Estate. They were self sustaining. They had ponds and ducks, and they made feather beds and pillows from the feathers. They raised their own meat and their own chickens and their own fruit and vegetables. When my mother was growing up my father saw her at the social functions they had in Fountain Green. There was just one ward there and one meeting house and one school, and so it was a pretty closely knit little society. He admired her as she was growing up. He said, "You must get the cage before you get the birds," so all the brothers had acquired land and planned a home before they proposed to the girls. Father told me he admired mother for years before they ever started dating seriously. All of my father’s brothers married and had homes right along there in a little row, which is unusual, isn’t it? We had a most wholesome upbringing. The winters were very cold and I remember there was a picket fence running in front of the homes and sometimes the wind would blow the snow and it would drift until it came to the top of that fence. Being very young and light, we children could almost walk along the top of the pickets because the wind would crust it. Then of course in those days married men were sent on missions. So my father was called on a mission. I must have been only five years old when he left. I remember how thrilled I was when he finally came home from his mission. He did come home briefly during his mission when my little brother Cecil became ill. I think he was home for just a few days before Cecil died with complications from the measles. In those days they didn’t have antibiotics and mother put him in a hospital in Mt. Pleasant. She was there with him for I don’t know how long because I remember staying with my mother’s sister, Aunt Ellen. But then my father went back on his mission and I remember was how thrilled we were when he finally came home to stay. He brought me a little miniature song book that the elders had used in the field. It had a leather binding and it was an elegant little book and I prized it so. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. I was about seven then because I had started taking organ lessons on the old fashioned organ from Mrs. Hanson. Sister Hanson was a German settler. She sat down by that organ in her home with me every day for about fifteen or twenty minutes after school. Her home was next to the elementary school and I would go right from school to her home. My little song book was so precious to me, so wonderful, that I wanted to show it to Sister Hanson. One day I took it with me to my organ lesson and I had to cross the big creek over a little bridge to get to her house. When I got to the middle of the bridge I stood there for a minute looking down into the water and dropped that precious little book. I ran off the bridge and just jumped right into the stream and it’s a wonder that I got out because the water came up on me quite far. Well, I got it out. I think that’s amazing! I wouldn’t dare do that even now I don’t think. But anyway I saved that little book and went home to my mother and told her about it. One day I got my feelings hurt. I can’t remember what it was about, but I went out in the raspberry patch and down one of the little rows and sat down. I just sat there and sat there thinking how sorry they’d be when they couldn’t find me and I’d be gone. I was there so long I became bored so I got up and went home. Nobody had realized I was missing! I remember playing with my cousins. We’d go to each other’s houses to play and we all felt so safe and secure. There was nothing to worry about in those days with all the aunts to care for whichever children were playing in their house or in their yard. So it was quite an ideal childhood for me. Our home faced east and there were some low foothills. I used to look at those foothills and wonder what was on the other side. I had longings, even as a very young child, to get out and find out what the world was all about because something must be over there that would be interesting. My Brother Bill and I were very close then and have been throughout our lives. My mother used to tell him that he was supposed to take care of me, so when we were little tiny kids we would go off to Primary and things like that together and he’d take my hand. When we both married, our children played together and they would go up into the mountains with the sheep, staying together in the sheep camp. Gracia, his wife, would take her little children up there for vacations and they would be with my children. My younger brother Cecil passed away. A few years went by, not many, and then I had four new little brothers: Dewey, Loyal, Grant and Blaine. I was older than they were but we always got along fine. But my closest association was with my brother Bill. He and I were very close. I helped my mother take care of my younger brothers. I loved them but I was more like a little mother to them than a sister. Now I have only my very youngest brother Blaine left, and he isn’t young. He’s in his seventies now, but he’s the youngest brother of all. I used to love to dress them up and put them in their little stroller and take them for walks around my neighborhood in Logan where we then lived. I worshiped my parents. I was not closer to one than the other but my father made a bigger fuss over me while I think my mother was very cautious. She wanted me to remain humble and sensible. She sacrificed to give me music lessons and things like that and she always loved me just as much as he did--but father made a bigger fuss over me. She’d get me ready to go some place and say, "Now see that you act as good as you look." She never complimented me on how I looked or anything like modern mothers do nowadays, but she had a deep deep caring for me. They both did. They were very hardworking people. My father and my uncles, so frugally brought up, were poor by today’s economic standards, but their children were well cared for spiritually and emotionally. We had time and space to play in the open fields and meadows. We lived intimately with nature. We were loved by aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents. All of this gave us a sense of security and stability. We were taught from earliest childhood the reason for our existence, from whence we came, and the pathway we were to follow to attain true happiness and a place in our Heavenly Father’s kingdom. Father and his brothers were in the Cook Brothers business together. As the brothers matured and started their families, they decided to become independent and each go his own way, which they did successfully. This prompted our move to Cache Valley. The Logan Years When I was 10, our family moved to Logan where my father had purchased rangeland in the south part of Cache Valley. We rented a house on second west for a short time then moved into our home at 21 South First East, just half a block south of the tabernacle which was such a beautiful building. Our home was not new but it was very lovely. And it became a “House of Happiness” for all of us, for it was a place where we grew up. Loyal, Grant and Blaine were born here. Here we proceeded through elementary and high school and entered college. From this home my brother Bill left on his first mission to Germany in 1925 and, years later, Grant on his mission to the Central Atlantic States in 1946. From here Grant and Blaine departed to serve their country during World War II and to this home they safely returned. This is the home from which father left each morning to work in the temple all those years. He walked north to the corner, up the gentle slope of Center Street, around the upward curve of the boulevard, then into the beautiful grounds and portals of the place he loved so much! To this home he returned in the evenings to a devoted wife who spent all of her time homemaking--except for her Relief Society service and her temple work. In this home we spent those years when Father was Bishop of the Logan Eleventh Ward and rich years they were. We older children recall the gospel discussions we had upon returning from sacrament meetings. We would review everything we had heard. Being teenagers we were consumed with questions and doubts and were constantly seeking answers. Father would talk with us. No effort was too great, no time too limited. His patience was unending. The principles of the gospel we did not understand, he would explain to us. He would sit with us until our minds finally grasped the truths he cherished so dearly. He wouldn’t give up until he was sure we had reached full comprehension. Having changed from our Sunday best to comfortable clothes, sitting with our mother and father around the kitchen table over bowls of bread and milk, these evening sessions took place in a relaxed happy atmosphere and we will never forget them. Father knew how to answer the hard-to-answer questions. I’m sure we caught his spirit of great love for the gospel. How we loved and respected him. After he taught us, discussed with us, explained to us, prayed with us, he frequently bore his testimony to us. In this home we knelt in family prayer even when Father was absent. Blessings on the food were always said. Mealtime was a happy time and each of us had a specific place at the table. When there was a baby in the family, his highchair was placed at the table with the rest of us. The hours we spent with Father around the living room fireplace and around the kitchen table have indeed given us dear memories. He loved to play games with his little boys, checkers or indoor ping-pong, on cold winter nights during Christmas vacation or other rare free times. He often helped us with our homework. Yes, though a busy man with his church work and his business duties, he was truly an available father. His efficiency and orderliness are also remembered by his children. He had, in the early days of our Logan life, a small barn which lay beyond our backyard lawn. He kept there a fine jersey cow which supplied the family with fresh milk and delicious cream. He raked the barnyard often, cleaned it, burned the weeds and kept it immaculate. He also kept his front yard beautiful with well-trimmed lawns. Vivid memories linger of Father on hands and knees, well nigh manicuring our front yard. He and Mother took great pride in the blossoming shrubs, trees of various kinds and flower beds they nurtured there. This beautifying of their yard seemed to be a characteristic of all Father’s brothers since they all had attractive, well-kept yards. An integral part of Father’s and Mother’s philosophy was the old “work ethic.” They were never idle and they taught us to work and what’s more, to enjoy and respect work. A favorite adage Father used was: “Idleness is the devil’s workshop, and keeping busy keeps us out of mischief.” We were taught how to attack a job, carry it though to successful completion, then properly put away materials and tools used in the task. I worked in the home with Mother and the baby brothers while Father and the boys worked in the yard and at the sheep camps. All work is respectable and honorable they taught us; idleness and slothfulness is not to be tolerated: “Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” When we were growing up, Father always awakened us early with a cheerful “Good morning.” During that first year in Logan I acquired a dear little friend, Mary Mitten. Mary’s father was Samuel B. Mitten, a powerful and spiritual leader of the Logan Tabernacle Choir. The family was musical. In the Mitten home and through Brother Mitten, I met the great pioneer musician Evan Stephens whose hymns are sprinkled throughout the current L.D.S. hymnbook. Brother Stephens was then an elderly man but I was impressed with this man and his music I repeatedly heard in their home and in the old Logan Tabernacle. It had an impact on the rest of my life. The Brigham Young Academy was located in Logan at that time. We called it "Brigham Young College." It was a junior college, but it had a laboratory school which was called the BY Training School and as soon as we arrived in Logan, my parents placed us in this elementary school. It was located on first south between second and third west, and it had a beautiful campus. The campus was planted in green lawns with a lovely canal running through the south edge. The old Nibley Hall was there, a wonderful old building for dramatic works. I began playing the organ for the Logan Eleventh Ward at age twelve and continued in that calling until I grew up and left Logan. Music became an integral part of my life. I believe the gospel can be taught to children through music. Sitting on that organ bench week after week year in and year out, I gradually acquired a profound testimony of the gospel which continues to grow with the passing years. High School Years My brother Bill and I finished elementary, junior high and high school at the BY Academy. The one thing that was marvelous about it which really helped to shape my life were the once-a-week devotionals in the old Nibley Hall. One of the Twelve Apostles came to talk each week. Adam S. Bennion was one of my favorite speakers. When I look back, I think that was a marvelous privilege for us. One of my fond memories is that of serving President Heber J. Grant at a spring banquet he attended at the Logan school. A group of us high school girls had been invited to serve and we were honored to do so. I don’t think I had any really painful years during high school. They had a swimming pool at that school and that was just wonderful. We certainly did enjoy that. And then I enjoyed my music because I was chosen to be the pianist in the BY Orchestra. The leader, Professor Ottey, was a German, well schooled in classical music in his homeland. Although this was the jazz and ragtime period of the sliding trombone, Professor Ottey would have none of it. He had us play the classical material as best we could. As a result of the this close association with this fine, humble teacher, and also Professor Samuel E. Clark, I was given opportunities for ensemble work in musical circles that have enriched and influenced my entire life. I developed an understanding and love of good music and enough skill to enable me to serve church organizations and schools throughout my life. Much later, when I worked in early childhood education as a profession, my colleagues sometimes felt I was gifted in working with children. But I truly believe the skills were learned from her mother at home with her four little brothers. Through this experience I learned to love and enjoy classical music. I think that was the greatest thrill of my school life. I took lessons from Professor Clark and Professor Ottey, both of whom had been schooled in the best schools--Ottey in Germany, and Clark in the New England Conservatory of Music. I began dating at about age of sixteen. Dating was so different from what it is now. They had dances every Friday night at the academy, held in our gymnasium--oh we loved that! The boys would ask us for a date and we would go to this little BY dance then dance with all our friends, never with just one person like they do now. Nor did we do all this tripping around. We just danced the good old waltzes and fox trots and what not and then we’d go home and that was the date. I did not go steady but I surely met a lot of boys. Mose Thatcher was the steadiest of all of them. But he liked to smoke and drink and tamper with forbidden things. Still, he was always a wonderful friend of mine. His home is one of the historic spots in Logan now because of all its wonderful antique furniture. His great grandfather was Apostle Thatcher. I was more interested in social life and my music than anything else but I was still a fair student. I think I could have been an excellent student had I given myself to it but I got by just fine. I had an outgoing personality because I lived in an environment in which it was easy to be outgoing. I didn’t have problems or many struggles. Some of the people from the little towns around Logan--Wellsville, Smithfield and even up over the Idaho line-- would send their teenagers down to the academy. I always tried to make them feel relaxed and at home. I just felt like I was such an integral part of that school. I had a very happy adolescence as well as having had a happy childhood. As time went on and I grew up, I had boyfriends from all the above surrounding towns, too. I dated them all, very wholesomely. I can’t believe that it was so safe in those days. Of course, my home was right there on first east and we walked to our dates. We didn’t have cars, or I mean the boys didn’t have the availability of cars during my teenage years. We would walk down to the dances at the BY High School and around the block to the movie theater. We went to movies and dances mostly. Mose Thatcher took me on my first airplane ride. They were having some kind of a celebration in Logan and flying people around the valley. The airplane ride cost five dollars. I asked my parents if I could go and they said yes. So he drove me out to a field in North Logan for this little airplane ride. We were very young little teenagers at that time. All through high school my brother Bill, two years my senior, was my confidant. We helped each other with the developmental tasks of the teen years. We would practice the latest dance steps on the kitchen floor in the old home and snacked on Mother’s delicious gooseberry pie as we warmed ourselves after those cold winter dates in the chilly Cache Valley weather. We discussed the problems of life there in that cozy kitchen in the middle of the night. I Often thought how wonderful it would be if all girls could have an older brother like Bill to help them through challenging teenage years. My high school graduation was held in the Logan Tabernacle. I remember sitting with the graduates, walking up for my diploma, and accompanying the music for the program. That was a big deal for me in this lovely Tabernacle. All activities in our graduation were religious in nature, or at least serious, unlike today's graduations. We had beautiful orchestral music, singing and things like that. Our services were more dignified than they are now. Early College Years At that time it was possible to attend the first two years of college at the Brigham Young Academy which finally closed it doors in 1925. Although my close girl friends enrolled at Utah State Agricultural College (up on the hill) for their freshman year, I decided to stay at the Academy for my freshman year. I did this in order to continue playing in the orchestra and various ensembles and because I could take my first year of student teaching. I was preparing to be a teacher and in those days you could student teach your first year of college. In my case it turned out to be a wise decision since I was assigned to work with the most marvelous master teacher, Myrtle Jakes. For my sophomore year I transferred up to Utah State College since the Academy was now closing. I had a most delightful year. That’s when I really began dating seriously. I was about eighteen or nineteen at the time. I was rushed by a sorority and we had many lovely parties. There were football and basketball games, corsages and all the rah, rah and dazzle of college life. I was quite the party girl, I guess. My friends loved to come to our home and they enjoyed my mother’s companionship and counsel which continued on long after I left the nest. I had some interesting classes too and got along well in my classes. I became more and more interested in teaching and decided to teach at the kindergarten level. I had always loved my teachers and enjoyed my elementary school so much, and yes I wanted to be a teacher. At the college I had my first real introduction to science and music and other subjects. I loved it all. We had marvelous professors, especially during summer school. We were exposed to distinguished historians and biologists. It was a marvelous experience for me to live in that little town and have some of these significant teachers. I had a lot of wonderful experiences at Utah State. First Marriage During that sophomore year I met and started to date J. Russell Smith. Mose Thatcher was there also and we continued to date. He has been a loyal devoted and friend all the days of my life and still is. He even called me once here in Denver after his wife died. And Glade, his wife, was a good friend of mine, too. He met her that year, also. Russell was in the ROTC program. His mother was a widow and they had little money but everyone told me he was a very nice boy from Richmond and was in Pre Medicine. He was a very serious boy and he belonged to the Delta Nu Fraternity. I had joined the Sorosis Sorority which later became the Alpha Chi Omega. I had a lot of fun times, just wholesome good times. But Mose joined the Sigma Chi and they were drinking and not quite as serious. The big military ball was one of the high social functions at the college at that time. Also, the fraternities and sororities would have their rush parties at Hotel Eccles and at the Bluebird. Both had little dance halls connected in their buildings and we had lovely, pretty parties. I dated Russell during my sophomore year and through that summer. We had some lovely experiences. He had met a wonderful friend, Donald Lloyd. Donald and his girlfriend and Russell and I all went to the Salt Air Resort in Salt Lake and to Bear Lake where we girls stayed in one cabin and the fellows in another. It was during this dating period that Russell and I became engaged. That fall Russell was accepted into Harvard Medical School. This was a special opportunity for him. I did not go to Boston with him his first year of medical school. I taught in Logan where they were opening up kindergartens for the first time. My teacher who taught me was going to Europe and asked me to take her class that year. That was a wonderful experience for me At the time I had what was called a first-class certificate from the old BY Academy. When I became interested in kindergarten work and asked for additional credits in student teaching I was assigned to the Edith Bowen Elementary School. Mrs. Jones, trained at Columbia, came back and opened a kindergarten at this school. She took me under her wing and trained me during my sophomore year. The next year she left for Europe, leaving me in charge of her class. So you see I’ve had opportunities just open up for me. At the end of that year, 1929, Russell and I were married in the Logan Temple. Then off to Boston we went that fall. We were very poor that first year just as were all the students from Utah. But I enjoyed it. I just really took in Boston and fell in love with it and applied for a teaching job. While looking, I got a job at Sears Roebuck, not far from our apartment. This was all very educational for me since I had led a protected, secluded life in Logan. I was a naive young girl of twenty-two in Boston. That experience in selling at the store was a wonderful experience for me because it taught me a lot of things about the world. We had those old cash registers and we had to add up our own sales and it was interesting. While I was working there the girl in my department was taken off the floor one day and we never saw her again. She was shoplifting. Those kinds of things shocked me and exposed me to some of the more sordid aspects of life that I had never contacted before. I worked at Sears for a year, all the time interviewing for a teaching job. I must have been blessed because I remember one day I had an appointment for a job interview during my noon hour. I was worried about returning on time and expressed my concern to the manager. He told me not to fret about it but to take the time I needed. I did get a job for the next year in Newton Proper, a suburb of Boston. It was at a private nursery school called Stevens Country Day School, and I was to have the kindergarten class. I ended up teaching there for three years. I also spent several summers at Harbor Beach, Michigan, teaching nursery school. I went there with the Olmsteads, friends made at Stevens Country Day School. The Depression was so severe my private nursery school had to finally close its doors even though the clientele were made up of wealthy families--but most had lost their money. The Depression itself was another good schooling for me. Everyone in the country was suffering and struggling. Still, we Utah students were enthusiastic, however low on funds. We attended the L.D.S. Branch in an upstairs rented building in Cambridge. Here we visited extensively after the services and buoyed each other up. We also had friends on the North Shore who invited us to their cabin to picnic and swim at Marblehead Beach. This was great, wholesome, exhilarating fun: “The breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock bound coast.” How true! Far from home, we all enjoyed being together, supporting and sustaining each other against homesickness. Clambakes on Cape Cod and New England boiled dinners at Plymouth were all refreshingly new experiences to me. I had a real introduction to seafood and to much local color and history. The first year I was in Boston was my husband’s sophomore year at Harvard Medical School. When he graduated he was assigned for his internship to Providence, Rhode Island. During that first year of his internship I stayed in Boston teaching at the private nursery school and, after it folded, I joined him in Providence where I was able to secure another job in a Friends girl's school. Friends are a religious sect. I taught the transition group between kindergarten and first grade for one year and that, too, was an education for me. Return To Utah After a year of residency in Providence, my husband and I returned to Utah. We had put off having any children which caused problems for me in our marriage. Looking back, that was a blessing. His plan was to go on and specialize. We separated and I went back home to Logan. After a year of separation I went through a civil divorce. It was a mutual agreement by both of us. Because we had been sealed in the temple, I was in no hurry to have a divorce but everything seemed to work out alright. I applied at a teacher’s agency and got a job in Jordan School District. They accepted me with open arms and loved me. I made an easy adjustment in the little town and made some lovely new friends in the Jordan District. After teaching and living in Jordan for two years I moved to Sandy and lived with another nice family. We teachers lived in homes--just boarded and roomed in homes and I met some lovely friends there. Each summer, I would then go home to Logan. While teaching in Jordan I took extension courses towards my baccalaureate degree at the University of Utah. After two years of teaching I decided to return to school. I taught in Logan for half a year, earning enough money to come back to Salt Lake and officially enroll in the University of Utah where I worked the rest of my senior year on my bachelors degree. During this time in Salt Lake I was also teaching kindergarten half day. Lillian Hogan Jensen, an old friend from Logan, joined with me in sharing an apartment on third east after her husband had been killed in a boat accident. We studied together, laughed and cried together, did each other’s hair, and remained true and everlasting friends throughout our lives. We see each other rarely now since Lillian lives in New York City, but reunions are always heartwarming. After two years I finished up my undergraduate credits at the University of Utah, graduating with a major in elementary education and a double minor in sociology and music, receiving a Bachelor of Science Degree. This was in 1937. I then obtained a teaching job in the Salt Lake School District at a large elementary school on south State Street and continued in this teaching position for two years. Marriage to DaCosta After my divorce I began dating quite a bit while working in the Jordan School District and continued dating while teaching in Salt Lake after my graduation. Mose Thatcher was a very good friend of mine and of course his wife, Glade, was my sorority sister. One day he called me and told me he had a friend who had lost his wife and asked if I would consider going on a date with him. He said he and his wife would go with us on a dinner date. I said yes. He brought DaCosta Clark to the apartment and introduced us. He and Mose had made reservations at the Hotel Utah for dinner. We had a nice time and when DaCosta took me home he asked me out again for the very next day and I accepted. On our second date he took me up to a ski meet at Alta because skiing was becoming the big thing at that time They were having jumping and racing and it was supposed to be just wonderful--and it was. We didn't wear slacks like the girls do nowadays but dresses with hose. I was touched when he brought up a blanket and wrapped me in it so I would not get cold during the meet. He started dating me strenuously from then on during January of 1939. I didn't have time to date anyone else because he would come up to Salt Lake from Provo twice a week and we would do something. It was kind of nice to meet through good friends like Mose and Glade Thatcher. They had told me all about DaCosta and how much they liked him in dental school in Portland. We continued to date and once he brought his mother, Grandma Clark, up to meet me. I thought she was a good little sport to do all that. DaCosta's father had recently died and Erma, DaCosta's wife, had also passed away that same year. My cousin, Lucille Adamson, and her husband did many things with us during this time. They liked Da Costa very much. I loved the Admansons. I remember the first time DaCosta brought his children, Laura (5 1/2 years) and Cecil (2 1/2 years), up to meet me. How thrilled I was. Cecil was the cutest little thing I had ever seen, and so was Laura. I remember getting in the car and putting him on my lap and I thought he was just wonderful. I was never bothered nor concerned about marrying someone with children because this was a way to catch up on getting a family. I had been married before and we never had children. I felt that a whole decade of my life had been blocked out where I had not accomplished anything. I fell in love with the children and I think they felt warm and friendly toward me. DaCosta started taking me to Provo on our dates and I remember going into his office which was in the home on the avenue, the home where he and Erma had planned to live before her death. He was doing some remodeling and it was on this day that I first met Edith and Riley ("R.G"), his sister and brother. I felt quite confident about the whole thing--isn't that amazing! I felt this was an opportunity provided by my Heavenly Father to get going with my life and my family. That summer I had again moved up to Logan and was living with my mother. DaCosta traveled up there too and we had lots of good times getting more acquainted on rides and outings. He became acquainted with my mother and father over this time on his visits to Logan. We never did anything spectacular in our courtship. We would get in the car and go to dinner and for a ride. We didn't ever go to the theater or anything like that. We would never get in the car and say, "What should we do tonight?" We just let it evolve which was mostly visiting and getting acquainted. I had many boyfriends in those few years I spent in Salt Lake but I felt like he was the most intelligent and efficient man I had pursue me. I would never have been happy with a dullard. Whatever faults he had I felt I could overcome or put up with. I remember that the first night I met DaCosta, thinking he was pretty arrogant. I didn't worry about it though because I just thought he was trying to impress me. I thought he sounded a little pompous because he talked about his office and "his assistant" (Edith of course who was his sister). I just had the impression that "Boy, he is really trying to impress me!" But one of the things that attracted me to him was the children. I thought it was wonderful that I would be able to have these children and some of my own as well. I felt it was a good way to catch up on some of those years I had lost. Since living with him I have often felt his arrogance was a coverup for feelings of inadequacy. He was a nice looking man but a small man and I think he tried to make up for some undesirable personality traits he had developed. He was an interesting conversationalist and I thought he was a brilliant man--and I still think he was brilliant. I seemed to know right off the bat and so did he that we were meant for each other. I knew I had to handle the temple divorce from my first husband and it worried me because I knew what a serious matter it was. But I figured out how to do it by myself. I went down to the church offices and told them that I needed to know how to apply for a temple divorce--they called it an “annulment.” They told me to go home and write down all the facts and dates and mail them to the church offices. I went home and did it. It wasn’t hard. I was amazed. In about a week I received this certificate from President Heber J. Grant that stated that they had granted me an annulment. Isn’t that marvelous? The night before we were to get married we spent the evening with Harry and Cecile and R.G. and Merle. We had a laughing good time. The next day Harry and Cecile went with us up to the Salt Lake Temple. I was thirty-one at the time of my marriage to DaCosta in September of 1939. We didn’t go through for a regular endowment session. Looking back, I wish we had taken the time to go through because I don’t think DaCosta had been back for some time. I just think he needed to renew his covenants. They tell us to go back often. I didn’t know whether DaCosta was going to the temple regularly when I met him. All I knew was that he was a returned missionary and that Mose and Glade recommended him highly and that he was a successful dentist and had two darling children. I didn’t worry too much about his temple attendance. Since DaCosta’s younger brother Albert was off to dental school in Portland, he accompanied us on our honeymoon that far. We spent one night there and stayed with one of my very good friends who had married a dentist in Portland. We then started down the scenic coastal route through the redwoods and into San Francisco where they were holding the world's fair. We had a lovely, lovely time in San Francisco, setting aside our fears and cares of the world. After a two-week honeymoon we drove straight to the little house on the avenue in Provo. The recently remodeled home looked just darling with its new carpet and furniture in the bedroom--and a few wedding gifts in the different rooms. Grandma and Grandpa Merrill (Erma’s parents) gave us a bedspread for our bed. The Home on the Avenue Laura and Cecil came right from Grandma Clark's home where they had been living after Erma's death and we just started living immediately. I dropped into family living and I remember making clothes for the children right from the start. I sewed pants and shirts for Cecil and I can remember thinking, "I'll show DaCosta that I can sew then I'm not going to sew anymore." (Sewing was not my talent but I did get some cute little things made for both children.) I was used to children and I had been trained to live with children and take care of them and I enjoyed it thoroughly. That first year Laura entered first grade at the BYU Elementary School. Our little home at 261 North University Avenue was ideally located for school and church. I was always glad the home was there while the children were in elementary school rather than on the east bench from which children are bussed to school. We became active in the Provo Fourth Ward and I was called into the Relief Society presidency. Life became overwhelmingly filled with work and responsibility and joy and satisfaction. All went well and everyone thrived. I legally adopted Laura Gai and Cecil. DaCosta took me down to the courthouse and the necessary papers were signed. I think that was my role in life--sort of the mission I had been waiting for. I always felt that I had something to accomplish in life that would be important and I think it was getting married and raising a family. On March 29th, 1941, Mary Jean, my own first child was born. When Mary was nine months old our little family went to Chicago for six months where DaCosta finished specializing in oral surgery. Upon returning to Provo the children continued their elementary schooling at the BYU Elementary School located on lower campus at Sixth North and First East, Provo. As the little girls in the neighborhood came to the home to play with Laura Gai, a little singing group quite naturally evolved. Naturally I taught and accompanied then. They sang in various wards and at school functions. As a result Hermese Peterson, principal of the BYU Elementary School, called and asked if I would take over the music in the elementary school including the Christmas Cantata and Spring Festival. This was my introduction to BYU where I eventually spent twenty-two satisfying years in the College of Education. David Garn Clark, my second child, was born the next year in 1944. I now had four children, two boys and two girls. They were a joy to me all the days of their growing up. They continue to be my joy. DaCosta had Erma's picture up in the home for years and I was not going to be the one to ask him to remove it--because I was thoroughly accepting of polygamy when I married him. I knew he had a first wife and I was willing to accept that totally. But now I do not feel that way. I do not resent her. I hope she is able to do for him now that he has died. I’m not sure how I feel about being a second wife to DaCosta in the next life. If the Lord tells me that is what I should do then I will. I will go where the Lord wants me to go or do what he wants me to do. I have worked this out in my mind over and over again. Maybe I would choose to go it alone. I have read and studied about the three degrees of glory and maybe I will be in the celestial kingdom because there are different degrees within that kingdom. I don't think being a ministering angel would be an unhappy life. This is where you get your happiness in this life, through service. Eternal increase? I don't dwell on that too much. I'm expecting to make my own happiness there. I have had an education and an ability to make it through the blessings the Lord had given me. That is why I made it through the marriage. I knew that DaCosta had been sealed to another woman and had children from that marriage. What I didn't know is that he was not knowledgeable about the Gospel. He did not study the Gospel. He did not sit down and enjoy reading it. If I had known in our early marriage what I know now I could have done a lot for him. I could have helped him more than I did Gospel wise. Moving back to Logan As the years passed, a serious problem began to emerge in our marriage. It was complex and seemingly unsolvable. I felt I needed to take the children and move out of the home, most likely, to Logan. My mother was ill in bed from a stroke while my father tenderly cared for her that last year of her life. How much of a blessing she felt it was for him to be there. They were an independent couple. Even after the stroke she was still very rational and animated with people. With Mary and David, I drove up from Provo to Logan to visit and to share with her the fact that my divorce seemed imminent. I said, "I would really like to come up here and stay with you for a while. Getting away from Provo would make me feel much better." She replied, "Not for a while. Just a wait a while." I said, "OK." How strange. She must have known she was near death. She died shortly thereafter. Two months later, just after school let out, DaCosta and I went through a divorce and I took the children to Logan with the intent of staying for the summer but our stay lasted four years. Since the children had been used to going to Logan to visit they all felt comfortable living there and I did not feel the move was particularly traumatic for them. They attended church and got into the Logan life. DaCosta moved back to live with his mother, Grandma Clark, and I rented our home on the avenue to the Bushnells, a then young married couple. They are still my very good friends. Upon arrival in Logan, I called up the superintendent of schools and we chatted for a little while. He knew my family and offered to call the Utah State Laboratory School in my behalf. "You sound like you would fit in there," he said. I later called them and they wanted me to teach fifth grade rather than early childhood or first grade. So I did. I taught at the Whittier Elementary School which was at that time the laboratory school for training teachers at Utah State Agricultural College. I taught my subjects and, at the same time, helped train students teachers. As the lab school soon became overwhelmed with young student teachers, we gradually moved them out into the public schools for their student teaching. This same thing happened at BYU when I worked there years later. Teaching at Whittier was an interesting experience. I was about 40 at the time and I taught there for four years. The first time I went up there for school, up the hill, to the old building I thought, "Oh, goodness! How desolate it is." It was just a stark old building. But I went into the planning meeting before the opening of school and was welcomed warmly by the staff. And, it was not long until that place came alive to me and it was just a charming, lovely place to work. All the teachers were so creative. I think they accepted me as a teacher because of my music. Music has really been a blessing to me because there I did the music for all the celebrations and the creative dancing. We created the atmosphere with the music through stories and lessons. We would get the children in the mood for the music then they interpreted it in their dancing. They felt free of self consciousness. It was lovely. I did the spring festival and the Christmas program for the whole school. I think that's why they accepted me there as a teacher. It was just a lovely lovely experience. After mother passed away my father started spending most of his time in Wyoming with the boys on their ranches. Not having a car, I got a taxi to come every morning and pick the children and me up and take us to school. The first grade teacher became my very good friend. Older than I, she befriended me and looked after me. Every day after school she would take Mary and David and me home in her car. Cecil was down at the Woodruff Elementary school and Laura went to the Junior high. I put Cecil in the Woodruff so he could have a man teacher in his life at that point in time. Mary entered the Whittier in first grade. She had a wonderful teacher, Myrtle Jensen, who became my very good friend. She just thought Mary was great and of course I did too. David went to nursery school this first year then the next year he too had Myrtle. On the way up to the Whittier from my home each morning we would drop David off at this nursery school. I had shopped around to get him into that little school where they took very good care of the children. He had his lunch there and a nap then I would pick him up after my teaching day had finished. Because of these afternoon naps he tended to stay up later at night. So I would put all the other children to bed then I would spend my evenings playing with David, loving him and just enjoying him. I think that gave him stability. I was very concerned about not being with him during the day since he was so young. That was my biggest worry: whether or not it was injuring him for me to teach--but I don't think it did really. Now that he is a middle-aged man it doesn't seem to have hurt him any. He has always been outgoing and happy. He is now a very successful surgeon and has seven children. But anyway I had lots of lovely experiences there and Mary had lots of good experiences too. In the second grade she had Mrs. Nichols then Mrs. Chase in third. Mrs. Chase was another friend. She and I had gone to the old BY academy together in Logan. And, we had belonged to the Crimson Club together at the college. Returning To Provo During the four years we lived in Logan, DaCosta would come up on a regular basis, taking the children skiing, picnicking and out to eat. He would usually come up on weekends and stay at the Eccles Hotel, just two blocks from my father’s home. While our relationship did not improve significantly, I felt it to be in the best interests of the children to re-marry and move back to Provo. And so I did in 1951. All of us moved back into our little home at 261 North University Avenue in Provo. All the children were relocated into schools at their appropriate levels. After a year I received a letter from the principal of the BYU lab school. I guess they had heard about my teaching in Logan. The letter said, "If you are interested in a position at the BYU laboratory school, get in touch with us." So I did and they hired me as the kindergarten teacher at the elementary lab school. Charles Brown was the principal. I always thought that was a blessing and the Lord was taking care of me. He has opened up opportunities like this for me all through my life. Further Education at Teachers College, Columbia University I taught at the BYU lab school from 1952 to 1955 when I decided to go back to Teachers College, Columbia University for additional schooling. This was something I had always wanted to do. Edith Bowen, a wonderful teacher and person, influenced my life a great deal. She had been trained at Teachers College. Several of the women whom I admired greatly had also been trained there which increased my desire to go. So I took Mary and David and the three of us flew to New York on a funny old plane. I was there for six months working towards a masters degree. I had taken a few courses at BYU while teaching there so I had already started on this advanced degree. It was at Columbia that Mary first met Larry Gill, the fellow whom she later married. By this time Cecil had graduated from high school and had started at BYU. He and DaCosta stayed in Provo. Laura was married and had gone to Germany with Lynn who was in the armed services. Suzanne, their first born, was 17 months old. While in Germany, Laura gave birth to twins, so she had three babies about the same age. Sometimes I've regretted I did not go to Germany to help her instead of going to New York to school. But it all turned out alright anyway. When they came back from Germany they came right to our home in Provo and lived with us for several months until they were able to move to a new little home in south Salt Lake. Had I been able to remain in New York at Teachers College the entire year I would have been able to complete my masters degree. But DaCosta was pressuring me to return and I felt it my duty to come home--so I did after six months. Nonetheless, while there we had some marvelous experiences. Mary and David got more out of it than I did because they were able to travel around the area. They took the subway everywhere. I don't think things were quite as wicked and bad in the world as they are now. As soon as we arrived in New York we became active in the Manhattan Ward, one which takes very good care of its people. In fact my home teachers helped me find an apartment. We stayed in a temporary apartment until we found the one we ultimately lived in. It was an old fashioned apartment but we got a kick out of it. You walked down a long hall to get to your kitchen. The apartment was lined up in a straight line. People in the ward also helped me find a school for Mary because it was not safe to send your children to some of the public schools. I thought when I first arrived that I might have to just pick up and go home because we could not find a school for Mary but members helped us solve that problem. It was a girl’s school. I traveled out and met the principal. Mary, about 16 at the time, was accepted because she had had German lessons as a child at the BYU Elementary School. They took her on the premise that she needed to continue on with her language. It was a great joke because the German classes in Provo had been offered by BYU faculty members. There were always privileges and opportunities offered to everyone associated with BYU. Mary’s school was located across town from where we lived at Morning Side Heights which was near the Columbia campus. I went out with her one more time to show her the way and get settled. After that she went alone every day on the subway, then transferred onto a street car to reach school. It was the middle of winter and bitter cold. I remember bundling her up with her hood and scarf and mittens and everything. She loved the school and became involved with a little group of friends. They all belonged to different churches and I just thought it was great that she was having this opportunity to know all these good little scholars. They were from good families and were serious as far as education was concerned. The Agnus Russell School for children of the students and faculty was located right at Columbia, so I had no problem enrolling David in the fourth grade. He and I were right there on the same campus. Every day we had lunch together. I would go over to his little school and we would be together. Then I would pick him up and take him home and that comforted me because I was glad to be that close to him. He loved it and he loved his teacher. David and I had many interesting little sight-seeing excursions. We saw many interesting places and many interesting people. Both Mary and David loved New York. The semester ended the middle of January so we were there for Christmas. I had interesting experiences there in the New York schools. I had offers to teach in different parts of the country but I always told them I had a home and a family that I had to stay where I was located. I became very close to the teachers there. One teacher I met came to teach at a conference at BYU. If I could have stayed and finished my masters work at Columbia it would have been a lot easier for me. DaCosta came and got us after that first semester was over and drove us back. I put David in fifth grade at the BYU lab school where he finished his elementary training. Mary went to Farrer then to BY High. I remember her in cheerleading and all those activities and also her teacher Julia Caine whom everyone adored. She was an inspirational teacher. Mary graduated a year early from high school and then went up to Brigham Young University. She had her first year there before her little gang from high school arrived. I felt alright about that. When we returned to Provo from Columbia I went right into teaching at the BY lab school. I had planned not to return but one of the other teachers had to leave so I finished out the academic year teaching fourth grade. Returning to the kindergarten level I taught until 1960 at which time I was invited to go up on campus and teach and supervise in the College of Education. I supervised student teachers in schools surrounding the university and even up into the Salt Lake Area. My office was in the McKay Building and Asahel Woodruff was dean of the College of Education at that time. My academic rank at retirement was instructor. When we returned to Provo after our stint at Columbia, we entered a very busy time in our lives. DaCosta was engaged in a large practice and was on the go constantly. He was busy, busy, busy and never stopped until he retired. He was active in scouts, the Lions and Rotary Clubs, and in dental societies in Provo and Utah. When I go back over my old calendars, I don't know how we ever stood our busy life, but we did. We had a lot of responsibilities in the church and in the town. Before I left for New York, I was, as has already been mentioned, in the Fourth Ward Relief Society presidency, and daddy and Roy Johnson were in the Sunday School presidency. Always throughout our married life DaCosta had his group of men friends and they were always out fishing and hunting. Roy and Casey were his two closest buddies. It didn't bother me then but as I look back on it now I don't think it was very congenial with family life. He was always going and coming--and usually not gone long enough for me to catch my breath. He kept all his fishing and hunting equipment in the basement in that little house on the avenue. He would drag it up and through the kitchen and I would fix all kinds of food for him to take. He would be gone a couple of nights then bring it all back along with the fish and game that had been caught or killed. That was the part that I didn't like about it. He cleaned the fish then I'd help him prepare them for the freezer we had rented at Joe Seetaller’s storage. It was always filled with fish and wild game, usually venison and pheasants. The meat market would prepare his venison. I learned to season and cook it so it was quite edible but we didn't eat a lot of it. He had most of it ground up into deer burger. We used most of it to make chili and sloppy joes to feed the scouts that DaCosta brought to the home. We also made deer burgers for the large groups of young people in the campus ward with which he was affiliated as a high counselor. In Chile or sloppy joes you could hardly tell is was venison. While I had outside interests like literary league, my friends, and my teaching, I did spend a lot of time supporting DaCosta. But I never felt it was a burden because I thought that was what wives were supposed to do. My only criticism is that there was too much of it. I don't know why there was so much activity unless it was because DaCosta felt he had to crowd every moment of his life with it. He needed to be busy and to be with people. He never spent any time alone, and he never spent much time reading. He did not settle down in a chair because the moment he did so he fell asleep. He was very active and he had to be with people all the time. I used to feel wounded that he would never take me out alone on dates, out to dinner. Later on we did a little of that but it was always in connection with a medical meeting or some other group with which he was affiliated. As far as just going out to a play or show or concert, just the two of us, we never did that because we were always with a group. DaCosta's needs for recognition went on and on and even grew as he became older. Different organizations and groups honored him for his public work. That was all right, and I accepted all of it and even converted one of the bedrooms in our new home into a little study for him. I covered the whole wall with his plaques and honors. When he passed away I was happy to turn them over to Cecil so they could be cared for. Who will care to have them after Cecil? Who is next in line? Further Education at Stanford University I continued teaching at Brigham Young University until 1973, a period of twenty-two years. During this time I finished my masters degree at BYU. To further my schooling, I attended Stanford University in 1965 for a summer during my sabbatic leave. It was during this time that Cecil and Gaile were living there as students while he was completing his Ph.D. DaCosta and I went down to his graduation, which was a wonderful experience, and I have some sweet little pictures of that. The graduation was held out-of-doors in the amphitheater in a beautiful spot there on the campus. Then I stayed to go to summer school there. Cecil, who was getting ready after his graduation to go to Seattle where he had a position with the University of Washington, took me over to the school and introduced me around, which was very kind of him and sweet of him. He also helped me get an apartment in a high rise that was right there on campus, which was nice for me, and I finally got a very nice parking space that was right up against the Education Building. He helped me get registered, too, bless his heart. He just helped me get situated and established, and I had a nice experience there. I remember when Cecil and Gaile and their little family packed up and moved to Washington State. The last night they brought the two little girls over to sleep with me in my apartment because they had to do the last-minute cleaning on their apartment. That’s always a struggle-- to get your deposit back, you have to leave your apartment just perfectly acceptable, which is all right. That’s fine and that’s as it should be. I remember I just appreciated Cecil and Gaile being there to help me get registered and started in school and then I had this lovely experience of having the two little girls sleep over at my apartment the night before they left. I remember seeing them off with their car loaded to the top with everything they owned for their trip to Washington. I had an apartment by myself, which also was a blessing, because I appreciated being alone. And I appreciated being so close to the campus because even as early as that time I was having trouble with my feet and back, and I couldn’t have walked any distance to get to the campus. So that was another of the blessing--being so close to school. I enjoyed my classes and I had my car with me because of our having driven down together to attend Cecil’s graduation. I have a sweet picture of him in his cap and gown holding his two darling little girls, just babies about three and one. I met some professors and had some close associations down there during the eight weeks I was there and I enjoyed that. I went to the Palo Alto Ward because of an experience I had after I had been there for a while. I was out to lunch one day with some of the friends I had made at school. We had decided to break loose from my academic activities and have a little fun, so we went out to lunch at a very charming out-of-door place with sort of a bower effect with vines and flowers and things growing overhead and all. There I saw an old friend of mine from college, Erma Lloyd. I had been very close to her and she was living in Palo Alto. I hadn’t planned to get in touch with her, but after I ran into her we saw quite a bit of each other and that made my trip down there more meaningful and more fun. She also persuaded me to come to the Palo Alto Ward. At the end of the eight weeks of summer school, DaCosta flew down because I had my car there. That was a blessing, too, although I was a little bit timid about driving on the freeway because even in those days there was so much traffic streaming along the highways. So when DaCosta came to get me we went to church with my friend, Erma, and her husband. After church we all went out to lunch together and then DaCosta and I drove back to Utah, and that was the end of that summer. Summing up my educational and professional history at Brigham Young University, I was a kindergarten teacher, a fifth grade teacher, an instructor of college students, supervisor of student teachers (kindergarten through sixth grades), and supervisor of early childhood education. Beyond BYU, I have been State President of the Utah Association for the Education of Young Children and State Vice-President of the Association of Childhood Education International. While serving in these organizations I have made many precious acquaintances and traveled to educational conferences in Tucson, San Francisco, New York, Chicago and Portland. I also launched and taught a young mother’s class in Provo City under the sponsorship of Adult Education. I have been a board member of the Utah Valley Opera Association for several years and the Utah Valley Symphony Guild. And, along with some of my oldest and warmest friends in Provo, I have for years belonged to the Literary League. Moving into the New Home We waited too long in our married life to move into a new home. Mary and David were the only two left by the time DaCosta felt secure enough financially to move out of our beloved home on the avenue. For months we had planned a new home to be constructed at 1981 North 1450 East in Provo. Ultimately the home full of memories on the avenue would be turned over to Clarks For Her, a fine woman’s store. Now, many years later, it is part of an old building which has under gone various renters and multiple face lifts. One day it, along with other buildings on the 200 block, will be razed to the ground and replaced with modern buildings. The new home was on the drawing board for many months and then carefully constructed under the watchful eyes of Elman Jackman and DaCosta. Laura, Cecil and Mary never really lived in the new home but how very much their children came to love its sprawling lawns and spacious nooks and crannies. It, too, now has a wealth of memories: parties, celebrations, food, reunions, family gatherings. The home has always been open to church groups, faculty, neighborhood groups, scouts, BYU students, David’s college friends, grandchildren and everyone! Once in the new home and new ward, many changes rapidly took place. I was called to be Junior Sunday School Coordinator of East Sharon Stake. DaCosta was on the high council in the BYU First Stake at the time. Mary was married early in 1960, and Cecil was married the following September. Suddenly the new house was almost empty. This era also brought me new opportunities to travel, usually with DaCosta and usually to professional meetings. We traveled to many large cities, parks and recreational areas going to dental conventions and scout executive meetings. For several years DaCosta was president of the Utah National Parks Council of Boy Scouts of America. He also presented many lectures on new oral surgical procedures in such favorite places as Jackson Hole, Vail, San Diego, San Francisco, Lake Louise, Banff and Jasper National Parks in Canada, and some parts of Mexico and Hawaii. And, attending the births of grandchildren has taken us to Seattle, New York, Cleveland, Hartford, Philadelphia, and Logan. Death of DaCosta and a Harvesting of Memories DaCosta did not retire early enough which left too little time for family life once he quit his practice. He grew old very quickly during his short retirement and became increasingly ill with congestive heart failure and illnesses related to a breakdown of his autoimmune system. Perhaps his early death could be traced in part to never having taken very good care of himself during most of his life: he always ate everything he wanted to eat, never exercised, and lived a high stress life. But he probably would never have changed the way he lived given the chance to do it all over again. DaCosta died on December 8, 1979, while in his bed at home. He brother and friend, R.G. was there during the last moments and it was he who pronounced DaCosta dead. After his death I stayed in my beautiful home in Provo for four more years. During those years I had nephews, nieces, grandsons and granddaughters visit me and stay for short periods of time (some for the entire semester or for summer school) as they adjusted and got settled as students at BYU or in jobs. This helped me overcome my loneliness. I loved having them. I had sharp and loving memories of: Mark, David and Suzanne Stewart, Connie, Jennie, Jeanne, Bruce and Bryce Cook, and Laura Gill. Mary Beth Cook Ivie lived in Orem and was a comfort to me. She always brought her wonderful little ones to sing Christmas carols to me each year. I always had happy, strong young people around to trim the big Christmas tree we had in our living room. The December DaCosta died, Lisa (David’s wife) decorated a little tree for my family room. One weekend when the Stewarts came down from Logan, their twins Steven and Scott decided to climb to the “Y.” Unknown to everyone, Mark decided to follow. He was about eight years old. I was a very hot summer day. When they finally arrived back completely exhausted and very thirsty, Mark confided in me in a trembling voice, “Grandma, I thought I was going to die!” Steven and Scott dressed up one day in Scottish costumes and did a song and dance they had performed in a Primary program. They were shy and reluctant to do it, but they did it beautifully and effectively. Bless their hearts, they are now loving and effective fathers of their own children. I love the memory of Mark Stewart and Brian Gill dressing up like Indians and dancing on the lawn while we, their audience, sat on the east patio with tears of joy in our eyes as they performed touching, creative movements. Brian’s family had recently driven through South Dakota where they had witnessed the genuine, real live famous Indian jamboree. Brian was so moved emotionally by the whole affair that he wanted to express with his cousin Mark the beauty of it. They had raided my bathroom for make-up to paint themselves and had made head gear and loin cloths with cloth from my costume box that had a leopard design. When Mark was a grown young man working one summer in Provo, he lived with me and I enjoyed him. Each day when he came home, he would sit outside the front door in one of the wicker rockers and take off his muddy boots. Those were precious days! David Stewart stayed with me also one summer driving a huge flat-bed truck back and forth to work. We tried to rent a place to park it off the street each night but failed at that so he parked in right in front of my yard and no one complained thank goodness. I had understanding neighbors. How I loved Suzanne living with me one summer when she was studying to become a paramedic. I still feel especially close to her and her children. She is a skillful and wonderful little mother of six children. Her oldest son just returned from a mission and a daughter has been attending Utah State University in Logan. They have a lovely home in Wellsville, Utah. How I love going back to beautiful Cache Valley where I grew up. Lynn and Laura are so good to me. They drive me all over this beautiful valley when I am able to visit them. The LDS Tabernacle and Tabernacle Square in Logan are so precious to me. The old Eleventh Ward met in the tabernacle for years where I was the organist from the time I was twelve until I married and left the ward. Lynn’s father sang in the choir in that ward and was my good friend. In that ward Lynn’s mother was president of the Primary and I admired his sisters Gaile and June as they walked past my home as little girls going to Primary. In those days Primary was held on a week day afternoon. The Stewarts lived on first east just down the street a little way from the Cook home where I grew up. My mother knew and loved Lynn’s grandparents, the J.Z. Stewarts. When Lynn grew up and returned from his mission and began to court our Laura Gai, I was pleased, and encouraged the romance because my family respected and had known and associated with the Stewarts over the years: God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform. Let me tell you about my children of whom I am also humbly proud: Laura Gai, DaCosta Cecil, Mary Jean and David Garn. I have always known they were choice spirits sent to me by a loving Heavenly Father to love and rear during their earth lives. How blessed and privileged I have been! I have loved them devotedly and they have returned that love and we have always been happy together. This is true of the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren as well. They have always been active in the Church, fulfilling assignments diligently and respecting and honoring their Priesthood. I have never lived in a home without the Priesthood. I am impressed with the magnitude of this fact and deeply grateful. This great love extends to the spouses of my children as well: Lynn Stewart (Laura’s husband), Gaile Woodruff (Cecil’s wife), Larry Gill (Mary’s husband), and Lisa Bankhead (David’s wife). What a choice group! I love them as if they were all my biological children. I realize this feeling for them is Heaven sent. I thoroughly enjoy and appreciate them. I could write volumes of good things about them. This I know: All of my four children and their spouses are “pure in heart.” What more could a mother ask? I am humbly grateful. My heart is full. Others in my Life Grandma Clark was a beautiful little meek woman like women were supposed to be in those days. The woman's role then was quite different: she cooked elegant meals and had babies. Those were the two big things in her life. She took care of the children and saw that they were dressed, fed and kept well. I don't think she had much time to teach them spiritually or in any other way because all her efforts were to keep them well physically. When Grandpa Clark (James Cecil, DaCosta’s father) was home he was just enjoying all the babies and the good food she had prepared. She had nine children. I have always loved Grandma Clark and I have missed her. After my own mother and father, she is the one I most want to see after I die. I am especially close to her because we were the same type. We were the same complexion and we liked the same clothes--and I think she truly loved me. I think we were attracted to each other. We were kindred spirits. Right to her dying day I would go up and visit with her, sitting close and talking in her ear. DaCosta would sit in the big lounge chair and sleep while I was there and he would eventually arouse and say, "Let's go." After DaCosta died I continued to go up and talk with her for long periods of time. I would tell her what I was doing and what the children were doing and that was meaningful to her. I truly believe all the nine brothers and sisters accepted me and loved me-- I truly believe they did. Grandpa and Grandma Merrill (Amos and Eliza Merrill, Erma’s father and mother) did too. They and Grandma Clark were just one hundred percent supportive. As I look back it was almost as if it were planned by some higher power. The Merrills told me they could not have chosen anyone better to fit into this role. Grandpa Merrill was dean of the College of Education. He had one of the most attractive personalities I have ever encountered. We had a lot of fun together and we related well to each other. We would laugh and have fun together. I loved Grandma Merrill too but she seemed a little more serious and would often tell me of the hard times she had during the early part of their marriage, the physical hardships women had in those days because they did not have the marvelous medical help we have nowadays. She was quite intimate with me but he was the one you had fun with because of his bubbling personality. After I married DaCosta they were so devoted to me. They would come and see me and I thought that was a good sign. I was perfectly at home with them. In fact for years I felt they were the best friends I had in Provo. Even when I moved to Logan they came to see me. I dearly loved them both and look forward to seeing them again. Grandma Clark loved them as well. She would go to them after losing her husband and ask for advice in raising her teenage boys. Edith also went to them for advice whenever she had problems. DaCosta's friends, Roy, Casey and others, were good-time boys. They liked to get out and let their hair down. They played a lot of jokes on each other that I thought were so sophomoric but they all thought a great deal of each other and loved their fishing and hunting trips. They loved to get away, in fact they were on a fishing trip when David was born so Edith drove me to the hospital. I always felt their trips were a release from the work-a-day world and that was alright. These kinds of renewing activities were certainly foreign to me. My men folk in my family did not live that way at all. In fact they were just the opposite. DaCosta's friends were fundamentally good but a little childish. The advice coming to us more and more is that a man's role is with his family, his spouse and his children. Of all DaCosta's friends, I think Casey was about as high class as any of them. He was a true gentleman. He was from a good stable family himself. Moving To Denver As time passed after the death of DaCosta, I worried more and more about having to care for our lovely new home. There was always so much to look after: the lawns, the plants and flowers, the watering, the weeds, the repairs, the cost of heating and air conditioning. And, there was the loneliness. Though I lived in a safe neighborhood I was a widow, alone in a large home. I longed to be with my family, to live in the security and safety of one of the their homes--and to be with the grandchildren. I have always been especially close to Mary and she along with the other children encouraged me to sell the home. Then she insisted that I come to live with her in Denver and they would convert part of their home into a private living quarters for me. I finally decided to leave my wonderful Provo friends and associates, and a new home full of memories, and move to Denver where I could be nearer Mary’s family. I felt the Lord helped me with my move to Denver. I didn't think it out rationally nor plan it far in advance. It seemed to me that I was gently lifted over to Denver by the hand of the Lord. My children came and we all felt good about it and they helped me get moved. Larry and Mary especially seemed to feel it was the thing to do, and they made me feel like they wanted me rather than doing it out of a sense of duty. I feel blessed because they have been so good to me. One of my contributions here in Denver has been the close association I've enjoyed with Mary’s children, Laura and Kathy. They were in their school years when I first came. They would come into my bedroom and sit cross legged on my bed and I would be there in my favorite chair across from them. They would talk and I would talk, and we would have fun way into the night. That close relationship was important. I also feel like I have been able to help David's children, especially the one little boy, Michael, who was born while I was living here in Denver. Right from his infancy I felt that I could help his mother by helping take care of him. I was driving my car then and I would go get him and bring him over here. I became so attached to him and I felt closer to him than David's other children--although I loved them all dearly. I felt so close to Michael and I still do. He is a special spirit. My great prayer in life is that he will have an opportunity to reach his potential. One of the reasons I feel so close to him is that I bonded with him during his babyhood. I had him with me a lot of the time. We would go to the library and the market and the toy store and to the parks for all the kids to play. All of that was significant to me after I moved from Provo. After I moved I seemed relieved of all the pressures we had lived with in our busy life in Provo. But I left some deep friends in my Provo Oak Hills Fifth Ward. I am still in touch with them. The Golden Twilight It is now the spring of 1996 and I am 88 years old. I’m living very comfortably in my quarters in the home of my daughter Mary and her husband Larry Gill. They are very good to me and I love and appreciate them more than words can say. Larry is a patriarch in our stake and he performs his blessings here on Sundays. Mary is president of our ward Relief Society. She has many meetings here also. They both enjoy their new home and appreciate having it available for all these functions. Mary is also the principal of the new high school which will be opening here in late summer. She is busy with the duties and functions of getting ready for that, such as interviewing for the new faculty. Of course she is still principal of the Mountain View School. We all love it here in Highlands Ranch, a suburb of Denver. From my bedroom window I can see the roof and tower of the Denver Temple and, in the distance, I can see Metro Denver. It is beautiful at night with the glittering lights. We love our new ward composed mostly of young professional people and their young children. Mary’s son, Dr. Brian and his wife Dawn Ann and their four little boys live in a lovely new home in our ward. Mary’s daughter Cathy and her husband Darin Ray and their lovely three blond children also live in our ward. My youngest son David lives here in Englewood, another Denver suburb. His oldest son James, a senior in college, is in the mission field. Jenny, David’s youngest, is in first grade. She joins my other great grandchildren in all of our celebrations. We have great Easter egg hunts, birthday parties and so forth. Katie, David’s daughter, has been accepted at BYU and will enter there in August, 1996. I couldn’t be in a more ideal situation. The houses nowadays are designed so that all occupants can have complete privacy if they so desire. I have a private bathroom and two large closets and an attractive bedroom altogether in one unit. I have some of my own favorite pieces of furniture in my bedroom. Among other things, I have two over-stuffed chairs. It is sort of a sitting-room bedroom. There is also a large bay window on one side of the room which I enjoy. I also have some paintings on the walls which we had in our home in Provo. Nathan, one of my great grandchildren comes here every day at 3:00 from his school near here. He has a little treat of something tasty and then I read to him for a little while before his mother comes to pick him up. It seems to be a comfort to him and it certainly is to me. I enjoy all of my little group of great grandchildren. Needless to say, I am happy and contented here. I am blessed with good eyesight and I read a great deal. Mary’s daughter Cathy and her sister-in-law, Dawn Ann are my dearest friends. They take me where I need to go and they run errands for me; without them I would be quite curtailed. I love their companionship dearly and enjoy them more than words can tell. They are active in the ward and they visit with me extensively, a great comfort to me. They bring their children here to play. Our basement is carpeted and fitted with many wonderful playthings: books, a playhouse, and toys. There is a bathroom and other rooms downstairs and it is a fun place to be in the bitter winter. The out-of-doors is fun in summer where there is outdoor equipment on which to climb and swing and jump. Cecil and Gaile came to see us last weekend, April, 1996. They drove here from Provo, Utah, and we had a lovely time together. They usually come during a break in Cecil’s schedule at BYU. Sister Bankhead, Lisa’s mother, was visiting David and Lisa at the same time. She is also from Provo. We all got together and went out for dinner several evenings while they were here; it was refreshing for all of us. There are so many interesting places to dine nowadays in Denver. I feel so close to Gaile and love her very much. I love visiting with her and discussing all of life’s experiences with her, and laughing together about our child-rearing episodes. She and Cecil have six very attractive and interesting children and we have both had our challenges. Haven’t we all? They have four married children all in the process of caring for their little families. Stacy, married to Brian Hansen, has three children. Tamara, married to Kevin Pinder, has four children. Cheri, married to Brian Kohler, has one child, and Brett and Laura Clark have one child and another on the way. All of these are young married people. Allyson and Scott, their two youngest children, have not reach marriageable age yet. I can’t wait to see them all at our reunion in July, 1996. We are planning the DaCosta Clark Family Reunion in the latter part of July, 1996, in Logan. We have had the last few reunions in Park City, but now we are going back to the town in which I grew up. I’m surely looking forward to it. There are now 64 persons in my family and one or two on the way. I can’t believe it! It overwhelms me and I am grateful for every single person and I love every single person in our family. I am looking forward to the reunion with great eagerness. Ours is a closely knit family. All couples are married in the temple and they all enjoy associating one with another. This makes me very happy and contented. How things have changed since pioneer days as far as education is concerned. We should all be grateful for the many educational opportunities we have. I truly believe we are grateful. I am tempted to record the wonderful educational achievements of my children and grandchildren but that is a long and marvelous story which I shall have someone else record. Needless to say I’m proud of my family’s educational experiences and achievements. In June, 1996, there are four eminent events in our family: James’ missionary farewell and departure; Jason, Suzanne’s son, returns from his successful and happy mission; our family reunion; and Katie entering BYU in August. The Gospel In My Life I have absorbed the great lessons learned in my life. I have always had a testimony. It has never been a problem. I cannot understand why people sometimes have a hard time struggling to gain a testimony because I've always had one, even as a child. I've had a simple child-like faith, faith in the Lord, never doubting. That has grown and continued to grow until now it is a very strong testimony. I have always been so blessed, and I've had a hard time understanding why the Lord has been so good to me. I just feel like His ministering angels have been with me all through my life. I have had some experiences which could have been dangerous but I feel like He has taken care of me and guided me through them. That is the thing which has given me greater faith. Even when I haven't deserved His protection I think I have been protected because of my parents. They have always prayed for my protection. I've been through some hard times but through it all I've been happy and I think the Lord has blessed me. My growth in the Gospel has been gradual. When I was in Boston I was with non LDS people all the time and I think the Lord protected me amongst them. I remember I used to walk from our apartment along Fenway Park. Once a man approached me and wanted directions to someplace and I was just at the point of saying, "Well, I'm a stranger here and I don't really know," which would have been the wrong thing to say. I don't remember what I said to him but right then and there I realized what was happening and I knew that someone was protecting me. This was one little tiny incident in my life. There have been others which helped build my testimony. When I lived in Providence, Rhode Island, I had a few men who certainly gave me the chance to go off the beaten track had I been so inclined, but again I was protected. These continuous experiences have led me to believe I have been protected all my life. I have been shielded from harm and danger. I had one other interesting experience of a different nature which has helped build my testimony. We met this lovely woman, Mrs. Alice B. Herrington. I had forgotten her name for years. I don't know who sent me an announcement of her death, some friend I suppose. Then her name came back to me and I think I'll meet her again some time. I think she will become a member of the church. She was a very distinguished woman who studied birds, the state ornithologist in Massachusetts. She owned a small cottage out in Concord or Lexington and invited all of us Utah students to come out for visits. She took me under her wing, befriended me, and I used to go to her home alone after my husband Russell went to Providence to start his medical internship. She would invite me out to stay with her in this most interesting little cabin in the woods filled with antiques. I was not terribly interested in birds but she was surely a gracious woman going about the Boston area giving bird lectures. We once invited her to a church program where of course she could neither smoke nor drink coffee. She became so sleepy I don't think she got much out of it, but she was interested in us as a group and me as a little young friend. I feel terribly guilty I did not keep in touch with her after I came back to Utah but mothers become so busy with their children. But when I die I feel sure I will meet her and convert her. That's why I'm going to be a missionary. Before Going Beyond the Veil When I retired from BYU twenty years ago, I felt like I hadn’t accomplished my mission in life yet. I thought, "There’s something I must do." In addition to the close association I’ve had with David and Mary’s families over here, I’ve been able to go to the temple, too, which has been a blessing. I don’t think I’d have moved in the beginning if there had not been a temple here in Denver. I haven’t done as much temple work as I should but I’m going to try to do quite a bit more before I die. And then I’m hoping now that I will live to see the day when David’s son Jeffrey is doing well, living a normal happy life. I could die tomorrow if I were assured of that. Because I’ve had a close relationship with him and he has a lot of faith in me, I hope that I can still be of some influence in his life for good and a comfort in his life. That’s what I want to accomplish. One other thing I’d like to accomplish is to unify my family. They have always loved each other and enjoyed being together, but I want them to especially have a spiritual unity so that they can comfort each other, support each other, sustain each other, and all have faith together to help each other with their families. By their families I mean not only this generation, but all the lovely grandchildren and great grandchildren, too. I hope that through the spiritual unity of my four children these grandchildren will have strength and faith to see that their families all cling to the iron rod and live righteously so that we can keep the chain strong without any broken links into the next life. We need to take all of these children with us. My Testimony Gratitude is the overwhelming emotion of my life. I am so grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been my comfort and anchor throughout my life. I cannot remember when I didn’t have a testimony. From a child-like belief which was very real and sincere, my testimony has spiraled upward, growing in strength and maturity and substance. I know my Heavenly Father lives and also his Son Jesus Christ, my redeemer. They are very real and close to me. Through prayer, I can communicate with them. I have experienced their marvelous closeness. I also appreciate and love the Holy Ghost who guides, directs, and comforts me. I am grateful to my father and mother who taught me the Gospel from my earliest childhood. In my childhood home we learned and lived the Gospel. We had family prayers and personal prayer and we went to church each Sunday. We fasted, paid our tithing and our fast offerings. We were taught the Gospel by our parents, both mother and father. I thought all families lived like we lived until I grew up and learned that our way was unique. My grandparents, the Cooks from England and the Livingstons from Scotland, left their homes and came to America. They traveled to Utah under extreme hardships for the sake of the Gospel. Brigham Young asked them to go to Sanpete County and settle the area. They tried to live the Gospel principles which required many sacrifices. Their sons and daughters were my parents. Hence, my parents also made sacrifices for the Gospel’s sake. They lived the principles as strictly as they could and we children were taught to follow their example. I’m grateful for my childhood home and the environment in which I grew up. I’m grateful for my pioneer ancestors. This I know: Joseph Smith went into the sacred grove as part of his personal quest for understanding and salvation. There he received a vision of the Father and the Son. Through Joseph Smith, a prophet of God, the Gospel was restored in its fulness. How great a man was this Joseph Smith! I know that the Book of Mormon is another testament of Christ and that all the presidents of the Church since Joseph Smith have possessed the authority which was restored through him. I know that Gordon B. Hinckley is the prophet, seer and revelator to the world at this time. I deeply believe in the power of prayer. Oh, the marvelous and heavenly experiences I have had with prayer! We must study and learn of the Lord and stay close to Him through prayer. The Lord has watched over me, even during periods in my life when I have been inactive and careless about attending Church. These periods have been short, thank goodness. I have always retained my testimony. I am deeply grateful for the Priesthood of God. I have had the Priesthood in every home in which I have lived. My father, brothers, sons, and husband have all held the Priesthood. I thank my Heavenly Father for this marvelous blessing and pray that I may live worthy of all the blessings the Lord has poured down upon me. I thank my Heavenly Father for the Gospel plan of salvation. I’m thankful I’m a member of the Church. I’m thankful for my honest, devout, humble, faithful parents. I am thankful for the temple experiences I have had and the vows I have made there. I’m deeply grateful for the precious spirits who are my children and whose care I am privileged to have had. How I have enjoyed them. Thank thee Heavenly Father for thy love and protection and tender care thou hast given me throughout my life. How great thou art. How great thou art! Humbly, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen. Reflections by Laura Gai Clark Stewart My first remembrance of Hazel Cook Clark, occurred for me when I was about six years old. One day a beautiful, brown eyed, dark brown haired lady came to see me. Of course she brought the book Ping. Ping ultimately became and still is my favorite classic book. Next came a trip. Daddy took Grandma Clark, Hazel, Cecil and me to Fish Lake. What a good sport she was! I didn’t really think fishing at 5:00 am, climbing steep hills, or living in a camp cabin were her favorite activities to do but she smiled and happily went forth. When Hazel became our mother we didn’t really know what to call her, Aunt Hazel, mother or whatever. One day Cecil and I were down the basement calling in quiet voices, “Mother, Mother.” She appeared at the top of the stairs smiling and calling us to her. We next appeared on her lap hugging and crying. One day I remember was when we had pictures taken. I had on a white blouse (mother ironed with creases in a little puffed sleeves) and a new plaid shirt. Cecil wore a little outfit mother had proudly made. After a spiffy job on our hair, we were ready. Mother always made sure my cowlick was in place with wet fingers or wave set. From Mother I learned many skills. I learned how to make white sauce and egg fondue. A skill I still enjoy is ironing. I can remember how Mother showed me how to position garments and pull in just the right places. I was even able to put the creases in baby Mary’s dresses. Mother carefully taught me how to wash with the old wringer twin tub Dexter. Pinning starched curtains on the old mail covered stretcher was a learning experience. Mother taught me how to take down, wash, wax and put up the old wooden Venetian blinds. Mother cooked early morning breakfasts for the hunters and fishermen. She packed lunches for these men. There was always an orange sponge cake (made from scratch) on top. I loved evenings when we were in our “PJ’s” as Mother called them. It was time for skipping to “La la la la la la la,” the famous skipping music, or sing and act out, “Here we come on our ponies, our ponies, our ponies. Stop a minute just to say, Oh, how are you doing this sunny day? And off we go. We are going to Boston, to Boston, to Boston. We are going to Boston to have some fun.” She gave me a love of music and books. I learned from mother to have a clean entrance into the house, where there is heart room there is hearth room, enunciate your words, stand tall, be humble, pray, feed children before they are ravenous, baths always work for children as you are trying to reposition their attention--besides it’s therapeutic, and have a good attitude even if you don’t. Mother has been kind and loving to me. I appreciate that she has sacrificed for me. Thanks for taking care of me when I had those terrible chicken pox, for sneaking my Christmas dress out of the package so I could wear it to the Christmas party at school and sneaking it back. Thanks for not scolding me when you took the flashlight away from me as I read under the covers. Thanks for putting up with my little white mice all over the house. I love you dearly. Reflections by DaCosta Cecil Clark As a three-year old child who could scarcely experience the death of his mother I fell immediately into the nurturing arms of my “new” mother. I do remember insecurity, free-floating anxiety, fear during those early years, all of which were lovingly absorbed by Hazel. My most fundamental lessons about life have arisen from mother’s example and coaching: life is full of hard work--and do the job right; you sacrifice whatever is needed; music is therapeutic; take a bath to ease your problems; material things are “no better than we are;” “everything will turn out all right if you just live right;” “I wish I could go through this hardship for you!” Mother always placed our welfare before her own. Indeed, her mortal mission was our upbringing. She was ever concerned about our basic needs for food, clothing, belonging and love. Fully she provided them. I have never seen mother act in self centered ways or self promoting ways. On the contrary, she always sacrificed for the fulfillment of others, placing their wishes, interests and satisfactions above her own. How embarrassed I was as a sixth grader when mother promptly covered my gaping head wound with a sanitary napkin and led me straight into the doctor’s office. How discouraging to have to paint the entire porch with gray paint spring after spring, to whitewash the back fence while fighting off bushes and summer heat, to push the old lawnmower over grass too tall for a small boy to cut, to sweep out the garage every Saturday, to earn all my spending money, to enunciate correctly, to cease idleness, to play scales while the other boys played baseball. Yes, Mother taught me the value of work and to this day I am grateful. During those years of family separation, mother was ever vigilant in exposing me to good male models. She placed me with Mr. Cooper in sixth grade then sent me to the sheep herd each summer to be under the quiet tutelage of Uncle Bill, Uncle Loyal and Grandfather Cook. These were men of sterling quality and she wanted them to be in my everyday life. They were--and they have been. During high school and college years mother adjusted her nurturing to my maturing needs. She was patient with her counsel, never pressing yet always consistent. She possessed marvelous instincts about those with whom I associated. She knew, exactingly, those boys who would and would not be good influences in my life. Likewise with the girls I dated. During my high school years, for example, I dated steadily a girl whom I fully intended to marry. Mother approved of my dating her so I naturally assumed we had the green light to go ahead with our plans. One day Mother stunned me with a matter-of-fact comment: “Oh, yes, she is a nice girl--but not the girl for you.” Angered I retorted, “You don’t know her like I do. How can you possibly say that!” “I know alright--she is not the girl for you” was her aggravatingly calm response. Within a year or so I finally saw this girl through my mother’s eyes. Throughout my life she has been my protecting angel here on earth. Mission and marriage, the same: Always available, always offering down-to-earth and mother-inspired counsel. “You have always been such a darling boy and wonderful husband and father” is a recurring sentence uplifting me even now in times of sorrow and disappointment. I have always known she loved me. Only in my mature years have I been able to step back and marvel at the life and style of mother. She is truly a nurturing and sacrificing woman. But she is also effervescing, full of life and full of faith, yes full of faith and then some. Even now as we at times anguish over the decisions our children make she offers the same reassuring “Oh, honey, things will work out if you continue to have faith. You and Gaile will be blessed because you both live the Gospel.” What I earlier took to be a Polyanna faith I now see as true faith. She has empathy and compassion to each child, grand child and great, great grandchild who enters her bedroom. Mother demonstrates an encompassing, Christlike love to her family and friends--a loving model to us all. Reflections by Mary Jean Clark Gill Many of my memories of mother involve music. Mother was music for me. I have heard the classics she played on the piano drifting across the years; I remember her signature piece, “Da, da, da, DUM, da DUM, da, DUM, da DUM,” (You know, it’s the skipping along) played in syncopated jazzy style. Mother would jazz up “Come, Come Ye Saints” if she though the congregation wasn’t singing with enough gusto. Mother had music in her fingers and in her heart. For several years Mother led the Sunday School music in the old Fourth Ward in Provo. Do you remember how should would say every Sunday, “What song is singing in your heart this morning?” And when one of us responded we knew that would be our opening song or practice song that Sunday morning. Singing with Mother leading was fun because she loved all the spirited hymns: “If there’s Sunshine in Your Heart,” “Welcome, Welcome Sabbath Morning,” “Count Your Many Blessings.” When Larry and I moved to New York right after our marriage, our good friends the Fishes were both professional musicians. I remember how amazed Paul Fish was that I knew and could hum along to a repertoire of music he thought someone from Provo, Utah couldn’t possibly know. But that was the music Mother played for us to dance to when we were very young. Remember “Here We Come On Our Ponies?” “Open Up The Windows, Open Up The Doors?” “Rose, Rose I Love You?” Mother had a musical touch: she could sight read anything, and she could remember from memory music she had learned years before. Mother learned to play the piano in Fountain Green when when was just a little girl. She went every day to her piano teacher for a lesson. One day she dropped a small, leather music book into a little stream and immediately jumped in after it! Mother was the ward organist as a young teenager: she even went to Priesthood meeting to accompany the brethren. She says she went to so many meetings that she had to relay on her “mental mechanisms” to get her through. That meant she made up elaborate stories in her mind instead of listening! Mother’s legacy of music is a rich one for us. Whenever I see someone leading children in song, I think of Mother and the music she could get out of a group of children.