History of James Henry Call
Contributor: BarbaraLeishman Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
James Henry Call was born October 19, 1878, to Joshua James Call and Rosa Louise Atkinson Call. I'm not sure exactly where he was born as his World War II Registration Card said he was born in Thatcher, Idaho, his life sketch at his funeral says he was born in Soda Springs, Idaho, and his Family Group Record says he was born in Gentile Valley, Caribou, Idaho.
He was born in a family that ended up with 10 children, he had 7 sisters and 2 brothers. They are:
Annie Louisa Call born August 4, 1874
Alice Elmira Call born June 29, 1876
Rose Jane Call born June 30, 1877
James Henry Call born October 19, 1878
Jesse Bell Call born August 24, 1881
Daisy Elizabeth Call born June 15, 1883
Charles Francis Call born October 19, 1885
Lillie Mary Call born February 18, 1887
Violet Fannie Call born June 29, 1890
Fred John Call born November 9, 1892
James must have had a happy childhood. He loved to relate the little happenings in "Sodie" as he lovingly called it, after 60 years away. A little of that good water could cure any ailment. James had blue eyes and brown hair. James was honest, a good worker and kind hearted.
What wonderful parents he must have had, who thought of their babies as something beautiful, welcome and God given, naming 4 of the girls after flowers: Violet, Daisy, Rose and Lillie. Isn't that a lovely tribute and gives a little insight in his family. Lizzy's brother, James, said he was in Joshua and Rosa's home many times and they were congenial, happy people.
The story is told that James came to Dayton from Soda Springs, Idaho, looking for work on the farms. While working on a farm he meant James Phillips who was also working on the same farm. He had a sister named Mary Elizabeth that he introduced to Jim (as he was known). Even though Jim wasn't a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Elizabeth's brother felt that he was such a fine upright boy, he was glad to see his sister marry a man like him.
James and Elizabeth (Jim and Lizzie as everyone called them) were married on December 16, 1903, in Dayton, Idaho. James was 25 years old and Elizabeth was 27.
To Jim and Lizzy were born 9 children. They are:
Clyde James Call born: February 11, 1905
Clarence Phillips Call born: December 18, 1906
Lester Thomas Call born: August 23, 1908
Reta Call born: August 4, 1910
Sylvan Verl Call born: February 17, 1913
Glenn P. Call born: March 20, 1915
Gwen Call born: March 20, 1915
Max Phillips Call born: December 15, 1916
Fred Phillips Call born: January 1, 1919
Jim was instrumental in helping to build the irrigation system. He and Lizzie moved over close to Twin Lakes where he worked on the irrigation system and she cooked for men, and what a cook she was!!
Jim was a resident of Dayton for more than 60 years--farmer. He had served as constable in Dayton many years, farmer, County road overseer, caretaker of the Dayton Cemetery many years and many numerous other jobs were held by this hard working, ambitious man.
Jim had blue eyes and brown hair. Jim was honest, a good worker and kind hearted.
As stated, Jim wasn't a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when he married his Lizzie. When their twins, Glenn and Gwen, were baptized the burning spirit caught fire and he surprised Lizzie with his desire to also be baptized. He was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on March 24, 1923, and then he and Elizabeth were Sealed for Time and all Eternity on March 9, 1933, in the Logan Temple, Logan, Utah.
Jim always loved little children. He had a way with them. He was never too busy to stop and fix a bicycle tire, or saddle up the old horse and boost 3 upon to ride. A niece remembered once when her bike tire blew out, and he fixed it by wiring a piece of garden hose around the rim, and it worked so well that she left it that way until it came off.
They say children and dogs can tell when they're really wanted and loved. Children crowded around him and he stooped way over to them and made them feel important. He could always reach in his pocket and pull out a piece of candy for them. Sometimes he would hesitate, wanting them to ask, and most generally would. This tickled him.
At the children's dances (there used to be one every holiday), orchestra and all, if the children were slow to get up and start dancing, as generally they were, Jim and Bill Phillips would dance with them to get them started. He was such a jovial character, that almost every year he was Santa for the family. He just seemed to fit the part.
Holidays and little occasions were always very important to him and Lizzie. There were always birthday parties with all the trimmings. A niece believed that Lizzie invented fortune cookies. Inside was a note written on brown paper saying, 'You'll be rich' or 'You'll travel' and a coin inside of that. She made them for these special little occasions. How everyone loved these little surprises.
Their home was always gaily decorated with stars, tinsel and a Christmas tree for the most important birthday of all. They would make pounds of fruit cakes that Jim would deliver to someone less fortunate. Even on his last Christmas, Jim had his little lighted wreath in the window, the light too dim for him to see.
Jim drove a milk wagon, one of the first, with a team of horses clear to Franklin. This was an all-day journey, but many times he would take the 5 older children with him and almost always a long shopping list for some of his patrons. Matching thread, buying outing flannel, or maybe a bottle of caster oil. He never complained. He realized that mankind would perish if we ceased to aid each other. Then later he bought a truck and hauled milk out past Clifton to the cheese factory. Many times the children went with him.
Saturday night he would unload all the milk cans and set them under the big yellow rose bush. Anyone in town was welcome to go to town with Jim and family, and many did. The back was always full. Jim would carry stools, benches, boxes and even furnish everyone with quilts, to help break the wind. All this simply for everyone's comfort, or the extra mile.
His niece said of him: "We used to think he was rather mean when he wouldn't let us go home with some of the strange cute boys. He would interview them--look them straight in the eye. He said he could tell if they were sneaky and then he would get real close and sniff. If he didn't approve of these boys, he's tactfully say, "I promised your folks I'd bring you home." We knew better than to coax. We accepted this as final. We never questioned his judgment. Sometimes these gangs of boys would be smart and wanting to fight, but Jim wasn't afraid. He handled these situations with ease. I used to feel so secure with him because we thought he was so brave and I knew he would put up a good fight if needs be. He made it a point to always be out of the show and right by the Persiana door waiting for us, then deliver sleepy kids all over town and never take a penny for all his trouble. He was big of heart and stature.
How well I remember the many picnics and outings we used to go on up in the hills, or overnight down by the river fishing. Uncle Jim, Aunt Nellie and Russ Schvaneveldt could bring in more fish than the big crowd could cook and eat. Then foot races, tug o' war, and other sports and then generally it would end up with a ball game. Uncle Jim loved these sports."
Jim loved the great out-of-doors, and recognized God's hand in it. He always had an exceptional garden, prided himself in raising the first radishes and new potatoes in town and treating all the neighbors to them.
Jim loved flowers and always had a big lawn, which then was a luxury, and it was always nicely kept. Many times the kids had slumber parties on this lawn in the summer. Jim was such a tease. Many times he'd turn the hose on them or turn the bedding upside down to get them up. If you stayed you got up early. Especially on Monday mornings. Five o'clock found him putting on wash water. He always got breakfast this morning. This freed Lizzie to do the laundry. This he did before going to work.
He was a gentlemen, always opened the car door for Lizzie. He treated her like she was something special, and she was! After Lizzie died, a niece Marjorie Howell, teased Jim by asking him if he was looking for a widow. He said, "I had the best, how can you improve on that?" He cared for her during the years she was bed-ridden, doing most of the work. Just so patient and loving--always close by, not out of hearing distance unless someone stayed and then he would go shopping but hurry back. Jim's love and reverence for Lizzie never died.
Almost every day Jim would walk down the road with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He remarked, "I try to keep fresh flowers on Lizzie's grave all summer." And he did, walking 3 or 4 miles to do so. There was always a Christmas wreath there too. When Jim's son, Max, was sick for so long, Jim carried him into Sunday School and Primary. This wasn't embarrassing to either of them, as love took it's place. He was proud of his family; he had a right to be.
Jim and Lizzie's home was humble, by today's standards. So cozy, warm in winter, cool in summer and clean as a pin. You wanted to stay and stay. Their children sensed this and it was hard for them to break away from so good a thing.
Sundays were reunion days. Jim's table ran the full length of their kitchen, and was always covered with a big white table cloth. So many places the extra's were considered fun. Jim was a good provider. There was never a poor meal, or the kids going without lunches to school, as many did then. They always dressed well. Jim helped put the welcome mat out.
It was hard to do little nice things for Jim, because some of his family had already done it. Son, Clyde, spent every Wednesday with his father. Jim said that was their day. They went to the cattle sale and had dinner together. They took in all the cutter races too. Glenn too, tired to take up some of his lonesome time with fishing and taking him tripping. Reta, always near by to help. Lester when he was home, what a wonderful son he was. All the others sharing too. They truly honored father and mother.
Last summer when brother-in-law, Will, was so sick, Jim walked over every day to see if there was something he could do. He did help. His cheerful disposition shed light on an otherwise dull circumstance. He sat with him and reminisced and you could see all had benefited from the visit. His in-laws loved him as one of the family and that means you can't be too far wrong.
Jim's goodness was not the type that reached its highest manifestation in piety. His goodness was a type that finds expression in a word of cheer to a discouraged brother or find expression in quiet deeds of charity; the type that finds expression in friendship, the kind that find expression in manhood.
Jim's advise to his family would probably be that you need to be up in time to see the sunrise, you need to work hard and that you need a good breakfast. Granddaughter Karon Kirkbride, remembers that whenever she stayed overnight with Grandpa and Grandma Call, that Grandpa would always get her up to watch the sunrise. He made her appreciate sunrises and sunsets. She also remembers that he loved horseradish. If he had nothing else in his refrigerator, he would have horseradish. Granddaughter Pauline Kirkbride, remembers that he used to tell her that if she had a bowl of oatmeal and an orange everyday, you'd be healthy all your life.
James Henry Call died on March 16, 1964, in the Preston Hospital after a brief illness. He was buried on March 19, 1964, in the Dayton Cemetery, Dayton, Franklin County, Idaho.