Horace J Hadfield’s Own History
Contributor: MDSIMS Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
Horace J Hadfield’s Own History
edited and typed from his own account
by Remae Hadfield Murdock July 6, 2006
MY EARLY YEARS
I was the third child and second son born to William and Charlotte Gough Hadfield. I was born January 3, 1913 in Lehi, Utah. It was also a day for a January blizzard. My mother told me many times how the doctor had great difficulty getting to our home in time for the delivery. Prior to my birth, Mother was sure I was going to be a girl, so she had not picked out a boy’s name. The doctor had a suggestion: he said, “Why don’t you name him after me?” That’s how I came to be named Horace, after Dr. Horace Holbrook. My middle name was given to me because of my grandfather, James Gough, as well as my three uncles, James Hadfield, James Gough and James Carter.
When I was six weeks old, I caught whooping cough from my older siblings Dale and Alice. At the time there must have been quite an epidemic of it. It was considered to be almost always fatal to infants then. According to my mother’s story, my uncle, Soren Sorenson (Mother’s oldest sister’s husband), came to visit her and her new baby (me). When he found out how sick I was he said, “I’d better leave. I can’t stand to see this baby choke to death.” And with that, he left abruptly. My mother took me outside in the night air to help me “get my breath.” My father went to summon Thomas R. Jones to help administer to me. With the priesthood blessing and the faith of my parents, my life was spared. There was a window with a south exposure in our living room. As a boy my mother would point to it and tell me how she had walked and held me when I had whopping cough. She said she’d stood “out there” in front of the window holding an umbrella over me so I could get my breath. I was gasping and turning blue. A kind sister in the ward who was a neighbor, Winnie Gray, came around the corner of the yard. When she saw my condition she was alarmed. She took hold of me, held me upside down, shook and patted me until my lungs loosened. Finally I could cry and breathe. I recovered steadily after that incident.
Note: According to my aunt, Donna Hadfield Mitchell, Horace's younger sister, the neighbor named above as Winnie Gray, was actually Hannah Hales Barnes (1899-1959). She was the wife of George Franklin Barnes (1897-1964) and was a lifelong friend of Horace's mother, Charlotte Gough Hadfield.
As a baby it is reported that I was completely bald until I was over a year old. When my hair did come in, it was dark and curly like my dad’s. As it grew, it was so long and so curly that Mother used to make ringlets on my head—in spite of my protests. I was still wearing these ringlets (at my mother’s insistence) when I started school. I was five years old, and attended the old Franklin School. I was an active, normal little boy, and I detested my ringlets! My neighbor and friend, Arnold Dickerson, went with me into the Dickerson’s vacant lot, which had plenty of cockle burrs- (a prickly ball of a weed). We filled my hair with cockle burrs. Then my dad had to take me to the barber to get those matted locks shorn. Mother cried when I had to have my hair cut. But I was happy because now I could wear my hair like all the other boys-no more ringlets.
I especially remember how happy I was on my fourth birthday. I knew it was going to be my birthday, and that should have been fun enough. But when I woke up that morning, I discovered a brand new baby brother (Leo) in bed with Mother! Leo and I always favored each other because we shared the same birthday.
There wasn’t always a lot of room in our house. At first, there were only three rooms to it when the two oldest children were born. The baby always slept with Dad and Mother. When another baby came along, the toddler then slept with the big kids. About the time I came along, Dad decided to build three more rooms, making a pantry out of a bathroom and adding a front bedroom. We bathed in a large oval pan by the kitchen stove, where the only hot water was. Eventually, my parents raised eight children in that home.
Dad built a swing in the backyard for us to play on. It was built with two tall posts, with a third across the top from which to suspend the swing. Besides that I just enjoyed being in the yard and playing with my brothers. At night, we’d gather around the “hot blast” stove, while my dad peeled a milk pan full of apples for us to snack on. He’d tell stories or sing, or both. Us kids would sit on the woven rag rug which covered part of the linoleum. Some of Dad’s songs were “The Preacher and the Bear,” and “Baggage Coach Ahead.” Sometimes Dad would relate Bible stories to us. As we got older, we had a nice store bought reel box that we could look into to see the pictures of the Bible stories moving. As we would get ready for bed our parents would help us off with shoes and socks, and our favorite routine was to do count and wiggle toes like this—“(Big toe) Ben Boxer, (2nd toe) Will Wilkins, (3rd toe) Tom Thumper, (4th toe) Short Harry, (little toe) Little Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick!
MEMORIES OF MY DAD, WILLIAM HADFIELD
Dad loved to sing, and memorized many songs, sometimes fun songs, sometimes hymns. When things were dull he could liven things up, pass the time, or lighten the work a little with his melodies. Mother played piano and organ. Many times Dad and Mother would sing together, at home, in church, or at people’s funerals. Every night we’d pray by our own beds, and then every morning we’d kneel by the chairs around the kitchen table for family prayer. Then we’d set up to the table and pray again to bless the food!
MY MEMORIES OF SCHOOL
Near state highway 91 in the old Third Ward area, was the old Franklin School. It was where I first went to school. I only had to walk 2 or 3 blocks to get there. I was younger than the other kids when started school because when the ward clerk wrote out my certificate of blessing, he wrote January 3, 1912, forgetting that the new year had come. Franklin School was a two-room schoolhouse. The first and second grade kids went for half a day in the mornings. The third and fourth grade kids went all day in the other room. There was a pot-bellied stove in the middle of each room. Some of the older boys would help stoke the stove, but the teacher took care of tending the fire for the younger grades. The children all hung their coats in the main hall of the schoolhouse. Outside we had a four-hole outhouse. Actually, the girls had one on one side of the playground, and us boys had one on the other side. I remember playing games like “Run, Sheepie, Run” and marbles with the other kids. On our playground we could throw horseshoes, play ball and swing. There were also some metal bars welded together for tricky bars.
I remember my teachers at the old Franklin School—Arvilla Woolston, 1st grade, Mrs. Junius Banks, 2nd grade, and Esther Southwick 3rd and 4th grades. When I was in the 4th grade, one day after school my friend and I wanted to try something new. “Pink” (his name was really Earl) Chilton and I wanted to use some carbide to blow up tins cans. We had gotten the carbide from one of our classmates whose dad worked at the Bingham mine and used the carbide for his miner’s lamp. He lit it and POW! We had a great time until I got hit in the forehead with one of the exploding cans. It took Dr. Worlton and seven stitches to sew me up. I still have a scar on my forehead to remind me of how foolish boys can be.
In the 5th grade I went to the down town school, which was the old Lehi Grammar School. Ida R. Thirman was my teacher in the 5th and 6th grades. She knew the Hadfield family well, since she had taught my mother as a child, as well as my siblings Alice and Dale.
MY MEMORIES OF CHURCH
The Third Ward area of Lehi was always important in my family. When I was little, my dad was a councilor to Bishop Henry Lewis in Lehi Third Ward. Before that, Thomas R. Jones, my dad’s foster father, had been branch president of the North Branch before it became the Third Ward. The old church house was just one large room separated by two curtains. The curtains had divider rails, so that it could be made into six curtained classrooms. One day at Sunday School, I gave my parents cause to give me what I remember was my first “lickin’.” I was about 10 years old. The regular Sunday School teacher was gone, and my cousin Nessie Carter, who was about 17, was the substitute teacher. The lesson was progressing, in one of the curtained off classrooms, when Nessie asked a question—“Who was John the Baptist?” I raised my hand, and answered her in a smart aleck way—“He’s a man with a head on!” I guess I just wanted to get everyone’s attention, and wanted to say something interesting. Little did I know that the Sunday School Superintendent, John Hutchings, was on the other side of the curtain. He reported to Dad what I had said, and what a hard time all of us had given my cousin the substitute teacher. When I got home that morning, Dad gave me a good “lickin’” for being disrespectful—to my cousin, and to John the Baptist, I guess.
My father was a counselor to Bishop Henry Lewis for many years, and then Dad was made Bishop when I was 10 years old. He was released while I was on my mission. So all of my growing up years, I knew I was “a Bishop’s son.” It caused me some discomfort at times because people expected me and my brothers to be different from other boys. We weren’t! In our growing up we had our differences of opinion and usually settled them with fights—(of a minor nature.) However, we loved our Dad, and he was a well-loved and conscientious Bishop. I grew up thinking that it was my duty as well as his to take care of the church building. We all pitched in to take care of the church. The old Third Ward meeting house (formerly called the old North Branch) was a one-room structure with a big coal stove in the center of it. In 1927 it was remodeled and added on to. I was 14 years old then. I helped Walt Hutchings with the wiring and the Dennis family with the painting. Our ward used that building for many years. It was sold in 1955 to help pay for the building of the new church on 3rd West.
Speaking of brothers--Dale was the eldest son, and tried to boss the rest of us boys. I didn’t take to that. I would rebel and try to get out of the jobs I didn’t like, but often Dale would “strong-arm” me into line most of the time. Heber was tall for his age and he took a lot of convincing that I was his older, bigger brother. In spite of--or perhaps because of--our differences we were very close brothers. Five of us—each two years apart, except Dale who was three years older.
Our home wasn’t large, so we boys had to double up in our beds. In the summer we fixed a tent near our boys’ bedroom and two or three of us would sleep outside. It really was just a bed out-of-doors. We kept our clothes inside, and we used the bathroom inside. I don’t remember feeling unsafe or outside at all while we were there. In fact, I looked upon it as an adventure in camping out. It was quite pleasant, as I remember it.
We had nicknames for each of the brothers as we grew up. The only name we could call Dale to tease him was “Dahlia Bulb.” I was “Horrie” or “Jim” or later “Jake.” Heber became “Heeb” or “Goff-ball” from having Mother’s maiden name (Gough) as his middle name. Leo was, and has been, “Hat” or “Hattie” for 60 years. Glen, our youngestbrother had several pet names—“Penny” or “Bumstead” because of his love for “Blondie” Phyllis Dorton.
I remember how I loved and idolized my Gough grandparents. I remember how as a little boy I’d sit on my grandpa’s lap and listen in awe to his stories of pioneer days. One he told me left a lasting impression on me. He told me how he’d met and listened to the Mormon elders and believed what they told him. He decided to join the church and they set a date for his baptism. That night he went to bed he had a dream, or vision, that he told me about in vivid detail. In his dream, a strange animal, large and catlike, with
a human head and face, climbed up on his bed and began to choke him. Hundreds more soon joined it—all leering and grinning their evil grins while many others pounced on him to choke him to death. He exerted all his strength in his dream to call upon God to deliver him. After what seemed like a long time, as he was about to give himself up to their destruction, the demons left—just disappeared. In their place appeared two child-like angels in a halo of light at the foot of his bed. He said it was a sign to him that Satan didn’t want him to join the Mormon Church. But the Lord did, and answered his prayers that night. As a young boy I often recalled how prayer had saved him. I remembered, and used it a lot when I got into situations where I was afraid of the usual scary things kids dream up. As I reflect on the number of outstanding descendants of my grandfather Gough, I sure that Lucifer did want to stop him from becoming a Mormon and in this way keep all the rest of us from our heritage.
BOY OH BOY SCOUTS
I was very interested in Boy Scouts. John Hutchings, a noted local naturalist and collector, was my scoutmaster for most of the time I attended scouts. His home and workshop were the hangouts for all of us Third Ward boys. I reached the rank of Eagle Scout and earned all three palms-Bronze, Gold and Silver. At one time I had more merit badges than any other scout in the Lehi Council. I had many happy and helpful experiences in Scouts. I especially enjoyed the hikes, including 13 trips to the top of Mount Timpanogos.
MUSIC WAS IN MY LIFE
Our parents believed that every child should have some musical training. Dad had a good voice and often sang for us. We loved to listen to his old favorites. I don’t think he’d had any formal musical training, but he did very well on any song he’d heard. Mother played the piano, and had been the ward organist when she was young, so we all inherited a love for music. Alice played the piano, Dale the slide trombone. Heber learned the piano, then took to sousaphone or bass horn. Leo became very expert on his trumpet. Donna and Willa both took the piano. By the time I was in junior high I was interested in taking band. Dad bought me a used C saxophone. My cousin, Darrell Carter, played sax in Carter’s orchestra, and gave me a few lessons. I also joined the junior high band with Abe Anderson as the teacher. He happened to be the band teacher for all of the Hadfield kids as we grew up, and helped us all with our musical education. Besides being the junior high band teacher, he also led the Lehi High School Band, and the Lehi Silver Band. My three brothers and I all played in the Lehi Silver Band for many years until Abe’s death. We had many happy hours riding in the old Silver Band Wagon, serenading Lehi and other surrounding towns during their city celebrations.
When I got to high school I thought I was really grown up. I was too small to be any good at football, and I was too slow for basketball. But I did get a part in the high school opera, “Purple Towers.” When I was a junior, I played the comic Negro part in greasepaint. In my senior year, I had the second lead in the school, “Hulda of Holland.” I was also the jilted lover in the school play “The Whole Town’s Talking.” I was on the school year book staff for two years, and class president of my Junior Class. I was the youngest boy in the graduating class of 1930 from Lehi High School, and won the Lion’s Club Efficiency Award that year.
I continued to enjoy music all through high school, and played in saxophone quartets with Dean Worlton, Boyd Larsen and Milan Allred. We had good times together! We thought we were pretty good--whether anyone else did or not! I also played in an orchestra with my brothers Leo and Heber, and friends Bill, Lee, Roger and Ronald Price. We played at a lot of ward dances, and some other occasions. I served as Sunday School chorister for two years while my sister Alice was the organist.
I was appointed secretary of the YMMIA of our ward also, and began teaching the Sunday School class of the kids my own age. I became very close to my pal Rex Dennis about that time, and helped him when he worked at painting and paper hanging with his father and brothers. This was the beginning of my painting career.
MY FIRST JOB
I went to California with Rex when his family moved to Inglewood, after we graduated from high school. I worked there with Rex until it was time for me to return to Lehi to leave for my mission in the fall of 1931.
I left for my mission on October 9, 1931. I was called to the Central States Mission, with headquarters in Independence, Missouri. I was assigned to the Missouri District with headquarters in St. Louis. We traveled by train on the D&RGW (Denver and Rio Grand.) I remember having a clergy card-which gave me the privilege of riding any railway for 1 cent per mile. I spent my whole mission in this same district covering the eastern half of the state of Missouri. Our mission president allowed us the time to make a trip to Nauvoo, Illinois, which was about 100 miles out of our mission. By special permission, we went to the Chicago World’s Fair. One of my mission companions, Elder David Wright of Southgate. California had a sister living in Chicago, so we stayed with her while seeing the Fair. I enjoyed many faith promoting and humbling experiences while serving as a missionary. I have seen the sick instantly healed by the laying on of hands of the Elders-one of them was me. I’ve seen and heard prophecies made and fulfilled during my mission. Many times my prayers were answered and I saw how the Lord watches over His servants if they are humble and faithful. I served as District President the last six months of my mission. I was released on February 4, 1934, and came home in time for Mother’s birthday on February 8th. I had put in 3 extra months to make up for the time I had to come home to the LDS Hospital for an appendectomy in March 1932.
My parents supported me on my mission. Dad would send me $30 a month. When the banks failed during the depression, Dad could not get his wages out, in fact he lost them and his savings. So I went without any financial support from my folks for about three months—three months of slim pickin’s. When suit I had on my mission was wearing out, and I needed a new one. So my father went to Tom Powers, a local merchant of a clothes store on Lehi Main Street. Tom had a suit that he could give Dad at a discount, because it had been in the store window for so long that part of one leg had faded from the sun. He offered it to Dad for $20. I tracted it in, and used it up for the rest of my mission.
I was released from my mission during the Depression years. I was out of work like millions of other men. I found it impossible to get work anywhere except for some seasonal work on neighboring farms. We tried to get into the C.C.C. (This was a make work program begun by President Roosevelt for needy youth.) Dale and I applied for it at the PWA office, but were turned down because our father had a steady job as an RFD mail carrier. So we worked on dad’s farm. He had a total of about 20 acres. This included the four-acre piece which contained the Thomas R, Jones home. I worked at any job I could find. I even went back to California to try my luck again painting with Rex Dennis and his folks. Not being able to find permanent work there, I came back home to live. Here and there I picked up a little work doing painting and paper hanging contracts. I even began using my brother Dale to help me with the paperhanging since he was a married man now. We had to borrow my Dad’s car to haul my equipment around. When we couldn’t borrow a car, I’d haul my equipment by bicycle. I even worked part-time shoveling syrup out of the syrup tanks at the U&I Sugar Factory in Lehi. By the time the depression eased a bit, I had built up my reputation as a painter and paperhanger, and had developed a good business for myself.
I N LOVE AND MARRIAGE
My older brother Dale had married Elda Nelson from Pleasant Grove and they were living in part of the T.R, Jones home, south of Dad’s home. (Dad was buying the farm ground and the house was included.) On Sunday, December 9, 1934, Elda had invited a friend of hers from Pleasant Grove over to see them. This friend’s name was Reva Mitchell. She had ridden to Lehi from Pleasant Grove on the Orem train. I had seen her at Sunday School with Dale and Elda and I liked her looks. So I asked Dale to invite me over to have dinner with them. By the time sacrament meeting was over, I knew her well enough to ask her if I could take her home to Pleasant Grove. That was the beginning of our romance. We were married April 16, 1935 in the Salt Lake Temple. I have told her many times and still believe it—“That was the best thing that ever happened to me-the day I got you for a wife!”
Reva and I fixed up the back two rooms of the Thomas R. Jones home-where Dale and Elda lived-and moved in. We shared the bathroom. We lived very comfortably there as newlyweds.
I decided to try to find some kind of a job that would give me enough stead income to support a wife and family. The ward needed someone to do custodial work at the old Third Ward Chapel. I talked to Bishop F.W. Fox, who had succeeded my father as the bishop. He and I decided that the little building built years ago to store the Relief Society grain could be made into livable quarters. He said the ward would furnish the materials if I’d supply the work to fix it up. I got a job as custodian of the old Third Ward Church. Bishop Fox agreed to pay me $10.50 per month and allowed me to use the small building in the rear of the church lot. The granary had been used for storing tithing grain and was no longer in use since by that time tithing was being paid for in cash. We fixed up the two small rooms there and moved to ourselves. I broke two windows in the solid concrete walls and put a partition in it. This made us a kitchen and a bedroom. For our toilet we used the rest room of the church. We had to bathe in an old tin tub. This wasn’t such a hardship for Reva since that was what she had used at home before we married. It was a decided trial for me since I was accustomed to indoor plumbing! Our “rent” included the lights, water and coal. It wasn’t anything fancy, and we had some rough times, but we were happy there. Our first child, an 8 pound daughter, Dorace, was born there. We lived in our church granary home for almost two years. While we were living there, I got scarlet fever. We probably would have starved to death if it hadn’t been for the little money we got from the church and the help from my father. Reva’s folks helped some, but they were clear over in Pleasant Grove.
My work improved enough that we decided to find a home to rent. So we moved to a house owned by Cyril Zimmerman on the Saratoga Road—approximately 10th West and Main Street. He rented us his home for the two years he was away on his sheep shearing trip.
We had our first real Christmas celebration as a family there. Dorace was old enough to want a doll and a doll buggy. We bought a buggy for her, but had a hard time to keep it hidden away from her until Christmas since there was no place to keep it concealed in that home. She found it and played with it before Christmas, but still enjoyed it as much on Christmas Day as if it had been a surprise to her.
It was about this time that I had earned enough money from my painting business that I could afford to buy a car. It was a used 1927 model T Ford that I bought from my brother-in-law Orson Lee for $35. I was able to get enough work to get by. Reva was always a good manager and made over clothes and took care of our home. She was always able to make good bread and fix appetizing meals out of what we were able to afford. When we needed to buy things we made time purchases and always made our monthly payments first and lived on the rest of what was left. If she hadn’t been such a good manager, we wouldn’t have lived as well as we did.
After the Zimmerman’s returned home we found a place to rent by “the forks of the road.” (That is where the Lehi Main Street branches off from Lehi State Street or Highway 91.) We lived in half of a home owned by Georgia Peck. Another young couple lived in the other half. It was a farm house about ¼ mile back from the road in the middle of a field. We lived there for over a year, then moved to a home that was closer to town. It was quite a lot more convenient for my work.
The next home we rented was on 5th North in Lehi about where it connects to the state road, next to Afton Peterson. It was sold to the state when the freeway (I-15) came through. We lived there for quite a while. Our next move was to a home of our own. We were tired of renting and fixing up someone else’s place. We bought the old W.W. Dickerson home at 305 West 8th North in Lehi. I cashed in my life insurance policy for enough money to make a down payment. If I remember right, it was $170, or 10% of the price of the home. That’s right! We paid $1,700 for our first home, and our payments were $30 per month.
We worked hard at fixing the place up and made a comfortable home out of it. All of our other children were born while living there. They, unlike Dorace, were born at the Lehi Hospital with Dr. Elmo Eddington, our family doctor, attending. Dr. Eddington became our friend as well as our doctor. I was able to trade work for all of our doctor bills. I ended up doing a lot of work for the Eddingtons.
We made lots of improvements to the home on 8th North- we built a chimney for a furnace in the basement, dug a coal room under the back porch, installed an automatic furnace fixed by a coal stoker, put in a new sidewalk, built a new 2 car garage, tore down the old chicken coops and wood shed, put on a new roof, converted the furnace to being fuelled by gas, and connected to the sewer. Of course all of these improvements weren’t done at once, just as we lived in the home, but I used my experience in the building trades to good advantage in fixing up this old home.
One of the first remodeling projects, as I mentioned, was installing a furnace in the old Dickerson home. I laid up a chimney from the basement floor up through the corner of the bathroom and up through the roof. J.H. was a big husky baby boy by now. As I was working on the roof, he kept saying “Heemie out, Daddy.” I couldn’t figure out what he was saying, so I more or less ignored him. When I had the bricks laid up through the roof, he looked at them, pointed and said, “Now heemie out, Daddy!” Yep, now the chimney was out. He’s been adept at building for many years. The furnace made a world of difference in that house. The bathroom was the warm cozy center of family life now, instead of a cold place to hurry out of. Having the furnace under the kitchen made the kitchen floor very warm and comfortable and the kids enjoyed playing there.
When Reva received her share of her parents’ estate after her father’s death, we bought a piece of pasture land on 5th West and 8th North. It was the pasture on the original farm where we lived when we were first married. We kept a milk cow and some sheep and the boys even had a saddle horse briefly. I would walk down to the pasture each morning and night to milk and care for my stock. It was there that my nephew Bob Mitchell, Donna’s 3rd son, made his famous remark—“Unca Horace, I just wove yo widdle wambs.”
Back to the early years. After the depression was over I was able to get work helping in the construction of Geneva Steel Mill in Orem. After a layoff at Geneva, the union sent others and me to Ironton to run a sandblaster. This turned out to be a good job. It was unpleasant work, but was for a defense contractor and we got a lot of overtime, working 10-12 hours a day and often seven days a week. I worked there about 14 months until the contract was finished. After the Ironton job, I went to work on housing projects for several different contractors. I found that it was much less of a hassle to work for the other man than to try to contract them for myself. I was painting for the Brookside subdivision in Springville when I received my “greetings” from the President. I was being drafted into the Army. Reva was very worried about this- we had two children and she was pregnant with Glenn at the time. Reva was worried that I’d be killed if I went to war. She called Sylvan Clark who was the chairman of the draft board. He told her the notice was only a device to get more married men into essential wartime work. Leaving my family wasn’t what I wanted to do either, so I went to work at Geneva Steel in the open hearth furnaces. I found that making steel is hard, dirty dangerous work. It required stamina to make steel, and to work shift work. I worked at the open hearth until after the surrender of the Japanese in Tokyo Bay.
After the war I returned to painting and paper hanging for different contractors on housing jobs from Springville to Salt Lake City, working in many fine homes, as well as government tract houses. In 1950, I returned to Geneva Steel as a member of central maintenance paint crew. This was a lot better work than making steel, but the pay was less. I worked there from March 1949 until January 1959 surviving their layoffs and strikes along with the other steelworkers. During this time we acquired the piece of ground to the north of our old home. It was 2.4 acres. We bought it from Tom Peck, our neighbor to the west who was moving to a larger home in downtown Lehi. Our family was getting too large for the old house. By now we had five children. Dorace would be getting married soon, but we still needed more room.
The city had recently opened up the street and we were building a new church building just a block or so north of us. I used the land we bought as a pasture for our milk cow and kept her in the barn on the property. Because we had enjoyed our family as they grew up, attended schools and were active in the Third Ward, it was good to stay in the same area. After finding a floor plan that we liked, we started building our new home. I asked Glen and Albert Brooks to take the contract. They were good bricklayers and honest men. I did a lot of the work on the home, but they did the technical carpentry work and the brick work. We moved into the home in the late fall of 1958, living in the basement while I was finishing the upstairs.
The address of the new home 975 North 3rd West. It was a lovely home and we were very proud of it. Reva especially loved the kitchen cabinets. I had them built by Wesko in Orem. We took particular pains to varnish the matched birch panels to suit a wife who was a perfectionist. We lived there for eleven years and enjoyed the spaciousness and comfort of it. JH, Glenn and Mary Lee were all married while we lived there. We had a wedding reception in the yard of this home when Glenn and Sherrol got married, and hosted the Armstrongs for a dinner there when Mary Lee got married.
I was second counselor in the Third Ward to Bishop Harold W. Barnes, with Edward Fox as 1st counselor. During the time I was in the Bishopric, we completed building our new Third Ward Chapel on 3rd west, just south of State Street (Highway 91) in Lehi. The work in this capacity was one of the most rewarding of any of my church assignments. As I look back to the time we worked so hard to get money enough to build the new ward building, I realize that we were happy doing it although it meant that we were making sacrifices for it. We’d make food items or other things and donate them to the building fund. Then we’d go and have the Bishop auction them off to us. Quite often we’d buy back the same things we’d all ready donated.
While I was on the building committee to raise funds for the chapel, I noted a fulfillment of prophecy. It happened as follows: As we began our fund raising project, Eldred Fox, a counselor to Bishop George Ricks, donated piece of land he had acquired. It was located diagonally across the road northwest of the old church. It was not an ideal location for the new chapel, but it was available. Several old timers in the ward refused to donate money to building a new church in the “old ‘dobe hole.” They remembered that the location was a swampy low area where the pioneers had formerly made adobe bricks. Bishop Ricks told us, “If the Lord doesn’t want his church built on that location, He’ll provide us with a better one when we are ready to build.” I bear witness that that very thing did happen. When we were ready to begin construction some time later, Bishop Barnes, (who had succeeded Bishop Ricks) met with the Church architect and picked two alternate sites. One of them became available to us about the time we were ready to start. The city had opened up 3rd West north to Highway 91 from 8th North. The Thomas family who owned the site decided it would be a good time to sell, in order to settle an estate. Our ward was able to buy the land at a good price, and then to sell the land of the old ‘dobe hole site.
We learned to love and appreciate the fine men I worked with and their wives and had a close kinship with them. Included in the bishopric group were Evan Colledge, Dave Jones and Karl Moore as ward clerks and their wives. We had many good times together enjoying Bishop Barnes’ canyon home in American Fork canyon for our get-togethers. After our church was dedicated, the Stake Presidency saw fit to release Bishop Barnes, since he’d served for about 8 years. I only had the privilege if being a counselor to him for 2 ½ years.
After that I was called as a counselor to Dwayne Woffinden in the Stake YMMIA presidency. The other counselor was Mike Kearney. After almost a year, Dwayne was called as bishop of the Fifth Ward and Mike to the High Council. I was called then as the Superintendent of the Stake MIA where I served for almost 11 years. I chose Bob Chatfield and JB Cooper as my assistants. Others I worked with in the Stake MIA for may years were Karl Price, Elmo Gray, Bob Webb and many others. It was an educational experience and was good for me. There were several presidencies of the YWMIA while I was serving as Superintendent. Some of the ones I got along best with were Ruth Stevenson, Alta Ash, Beda Peck, Clara Peterson, Faye Godfrey, Nadine Gray, Marie Willes, Afton Burgess and a host of other fine sisters.
By the time we moved to Provo in 1969, our old Third Ward area had been divided three times.
ANSWERS TO PRAYER
Reva and I have been blessed very much in our family life. Many times our prayers have been answered in an outstanding way. One such time was when Mary Lee was two years old. She got sick with diarrhea and vomiting. We took her to Lehi Hospital, where she lay in a coma. She was dehydrated badly. Dr. Eddington said he’d try to give her glucose intravenously but it would be very difficult because she was so small, and a child often would not lie still long enough for the injection to do any good. I got my father, William Hadfield, to help me administer a blessing to Mary Lee while the doctor was getting ready. When he inserted the needle, he hit the vein on the first try. He was very surprised and said so. I sat beside her bed and held her little arm still. She lay quietly for three hours and began to awaken when the nurse came to remove the needle. She awoke and wanted something to eat. That was the first she had eaten in two or three days. I went to the diner next door and bought a malted milk for her. She drank most of it and began to recover immediately. I’m sure Dr. Eddington was able to do so well because of Dad’s prayer for him, and Mary Lee lay quietly as Dad prayed she would. It was very apparent to us that our prayers were answered.
On another occasion, the winter Glenn was twelve, he was skating on a pond in our pasture. While school was closed for the Christmas holidays, he and his friends played ice hockey there and Glenn broke through the ice. He walked home, wet to his knees. Later, he complained of pains in his legs and they were so bad that he couldn’t even climb the stairs from his bedroom in the basement. Dr. Eddington said he had phlebitis in his legs. Bishop Barnes and I administered to him. Glenn had terrific fever and lots of pain, but through the faithful, loving care of his mother, and the Lord’s blessings upon him, he regained his health and strength. There was another case of phlebitis in Lehi at the same time, and that man had to have one leg amputated because of it. Reva and I thanked God again for answering our prayers for another one of our children.
Many other times He has blessed as we have prayed with concerns for our children, but these two are probably the most memorable occasions. We feel that we have been very blessed of the Lord because of our children, and their lives.
I started working at BYU in the physical plant department as a painter on June 1, 1961. I commuted to Provo from Lehi for several years. Reva was working at the American Fork Training School--a residential facility for severely mentally ******** children and adults. In 1969, Mary Lee was married in the spring, and in the summer of that year we moved to Provo. Remae was going to BYU, the other children were married, and our Lehi home just seemed too large for our us. We sold it, and bought a home from Charles Chamberlain in Provo. Our new home in Provo was in to the Rock Canyon area. Living in Provo would save me a commute, and save paying rent for Remae. Reva’s commute to work would be further, but she was willing to do it, so we could be closer to BYU. Our home was at 1167 East 2620 North in Provo. Again, we did a lot of remodeling on this home to make it more suitable for us. We put in a new driveway, changed the direction of the carport, enlarged the shop and storage space in the carport, built on a back porch, put in a bay window and a new entrance on the front, enlarged the patio, put a window in the middle bathroom, and a larger window in the master bathroom, remodeled the family room to make it larger, put in a dishwasher and an air conditioner.
The most notable remodeling project of the Provo house was digging a basement storage room under the kitchen. It had been a crawl space. We dug down three more feet to make room to stand up, and to store our food storage. I wheeled dirt out in a wheel barrow, through the family room, outside, and dumped it in a low place in the vacant lot to the east of us. The wheelbarrow was very heavy when filled with dirt. Getting it up the ramp out of the basement would have to be a two person job. Reva often pulled on the strap I fixed to the front axle of the wheel barrow to help bring it up from the hole. Often I’d want to “ do a load” before work. She’d be getting dressed for her work, and would come to help me “haul ‘er up” just as she was. We jokingly referred to her underwear, bra, girdle, etc. as her “wheelbarrow-pulling uniform.” Looking back now, I can see how her sense of humor helped us over many of the rough spots in our life. It was that way with all of our projects. She was right in there helping—or supervising. We worked together and finally finished our remodeling to suit us both. We were happy with our home. It was just the way we wanted it.
PROVO TEMPLE MEMORIES
At the time we bought the Provo home, the plans and the site for the Provo Temple had not been announced. Since it turned out to be just 3 blocks south of our home, all the nearby land (including ours) increased in value after the temple was built. We walked over there for the ground breaking. We watched closely as the building progressed. After it was built we loved the views of the temple spire. At first there was only a big vacant lot between our home and the temple. We worked as temple workers when the temple was completed. We were guides first, helping the public during the open house before the Provo Temple was dedicated. When it opened, I was a veil worker and Reva was a receptionist. Our regular temple shifts were Thursday afternoons and all day Saturday. Reva went to work at the Training School an hour earlier each day during the week so she could make up the afternoon time she’d have off to go to work at the temple. This became quite strenuous for her, since her health wasn’t good. We gave up working at the Provo Temple after about two years because it was too hard on Reva. I asked to be released too so I could be more help to her. We did enjoy being a part of those first years of the Provo Temple and made many friends there.
President Harold Glen Clark, the Temple president there at the time we had to resign, was very understanding of our situation. He was happy to be asked to marry Remae and Chad in 1973. President Clark knew us as temple workers, but he didn’t know anything about my family. He married them in the Provo Temple. After the wedding ceremony as he was giving instructions to the newly married couple, he said to them, “Your Grandfather Hadfield is here today and is pleased with you.” I am sure he was inspired because he didn’t know that Dad had died about two years before.
After Reva’s death in 1981, I put in my application to go on a mission. It wasn’t accepted. I got a nice letter from President Kimball explaining why. Stake President Merrill Bateman read me the letter and told me to regard my call to work in the Provo Temple as my mission. That was in July 1981. I was set apart as an ordinance worker by Brother Phil Jensen, on August 1981, and have worked there since that time. It has been a great blessing to me. It was there that I met and renewed my acquaintance with Doris Dickson. We were married in March 1983. We both continued as temple workers, enjoying our work together. It was good to be together on various trips as well as doing temple work.
We were working in the temple when she died of a heart attack just as she was leaving after completing her temple assignment for the day. Since 1981 the Provo temple has been the center of my life.
In my years of working at the temple, I’ve seen some wonderful things happen. I have seen how leaders have been inspired to do certain things that have had unusual results. I saw President Polne find a lost recommend that no one would look for as he did. It
could have been by accident but I’m sure it was by inspiration. I’ve seen patrons find names and other information about dead relatives that surely could not have been only coincidence. I have felt the presence of the Spirit many times in the Celestial Room and at the veil of the Temple. It has been a great blessing to me. I have worked with all the Temple presidents (until 2002) except for Orville Gunther. However, I knew him well since we were schoolmates all through school since the fourth grade. I know the Lord chose all of these men for that position.
The Temple has been a comfort and blessing to me in all seasons, but I especially enjoy the spring and summer, knowing that my friends from the BYU grounds department are responsible for the care and planting of the beautiful flowers and shrubs on the temple grounds.
SOME THINGS I RECALL ABOUT JH
JH has always been one with definite ideas. Even when he was born, he was somewhat unusual. As the nurse was getting ready to weigh him, right after delivery, he had a large BM. The nurse (Edith Strasbourg) said “If I’d have weighed him sooner, he’d have weighed 11 pounds!” As it was, his official weight was 10 pounds 11 ounces. He has always been big for his age. That must be the Danish blood from the Jeppson line.
When he was four years old he could write his name. He said it was a “fish hook (J) and a widdle wadder (H).” He was quite disappointed when he got old enough to read and found out that JH stood for James Horace.
When he was about 7 or 8 the kids used to go swimming in the New Survey ditch. When the head gate was in, it made a fairly good swimming hole. He wanted to learn how to swim, and I told him how to do it and helped him along. One day I pushed him into the deep water. He was afraid, so he started swimming. He told me afterward he thought I was mean, trying to drown him. Of course, I wasn’t trying to drown him, but he did swim from then on.
He was always interested in every remodeling job I did and liked to be around things mechanical. He helped me with a lot of my projects. I think that’s where his love for construction started. His barn has become a legend for all of us who want something fixed or made.
THINGS I RECALL ABOUT GLENN
When Glenn was little, he started talking at an early age. But he had a language all his own. He liked to carry a little bottle of water or milk with him, and take a drink out of it. He’d say to his mother,” Mama, neenee loli leelee bobo.” That meant I need a drink of water in a little bottle.
Aunt Mary’s first husband Orson Lee loved Glenn especially and enjoyed hearing him talk. One day Glenn was helping Orson in Orson’s shop where he fixed radios. Glenn picked up Orson’s folding ruler and pulled it out the wrong way, breaking off one section. Orson began to reprimand him, when Glenn responded only as he could –“Unca Ossie, my dad’s got some woot glue that leahy glues woot goot.” He thought my wood glue could work wonders. Orson gave him a piece of watermelon and asked what Glenn would call that. Glenn replied “That’s loli juice.”
His favorite pastime was to hide behind the kitchen door standing on the drain board of the sink. As I came in the door from work, he’d pounce on me like a lion. I was expected to be very surprised every day when it happened. He was quite a character.
THINGS I RECALL ABOUT THE ‘LITTLE GIRLS’
It seems I don’t have many memories of either one separate from the other. We made a vacation trip to California when Mary Lee was about 7 years old. We visited Aunt Mary and Uncle Shoe in Los Angeles, and then drove up the coast highway to Portland, then east to Pasco, Washington to see Aunt Marva and family. We bought some treats for the girls to eat on the way. Mary Lee had some sour cherry lifesavers. By the time we reached Pasco she was covered with red spots like the measles. We found out that she was allergic to the fruit acid in the lifesavers.
My grandson Lynn Johnson lived with us one summer when he was a cute toddler. “The girls” were his constant supervisors. We said they were like his personal maids. He began to call them “Maidy Mae and Maidy Mary.” From that time on Remae became Maidy Mae, and it has stuck.
Their mother delighted in making dresses for them. I think they were the best dressed kids in the neighborhood even though I wasn’t the highest paid of the fathers around there. A new ward member, Ross Bratt said what a wonderful father I was because my girls always looked so neat. He thought that I was a widower because I was alone with them on Sundays when Reva was working for a time on Sundays at the American Fork Training School.