l943-1945: DUANE: Grandpa Westwood showed up one time and asked where Kenneth was. Mother told him that he had not been home for several days. He asked who was milking the cows and taking care of the farm animals, and then he bawled her out for not taking care of those things herself. He left in disgust. In a little while, he returned with a quarter of beef, some flour, and some beans and told her not to ever let these kids go hungry again. Mother was not well and very depressed. I think she just didn’t know what to do. This really was a terrible time for us. The cows dried up (our only source of income). With Kenneth drinking again he and mother were not getting along at all. We were hungry and didn’t have many things to wear. It got to the point that we were forced to move to Richfield in August or September 1945. Mother felt that this might get Kenneth away from his bad friends and cause him to change. He got a job at Jensen’s Meat Market cutting meat. The job paid poorly. Our rent was $50.00 per month. We had no car so he had to walk to work. We lived in a large house on the north end of Richfield. The people who owned the house had their belongings stored in part of the house. We couldn’t afford to heat the whole house anyway, so we live mostly in two rooms. Things were very bad. For Christmas, Carroll and I each got a fountain pen and one pair of stockings. Jeannine and Annavon got a doll. There was not much to eat so we all got very thin and because of this there was a lot of sickness.

1940-1942 Memory of Duane Leroy Hansen's (step son) I do not know why it was that Kenneth took me with him so often. I know he liked to talk and relate things about people and places, and I was always a curious kid and wanted to know everything, so perhaps he felt he had someone to listen. I used to ride behind him on a saddle horse and he would just ride around visiting with the neighbors. I recall stopping to visit with a guy who was working on his corrals in Circleville. We just sat in the horse while Kenneth visited. I piped up and said, “I know who you are. You’re Jed Haycock and you married Guy Whittaker’s sister.” He said, “Your pretty smart. How did you know all that?” I replied, “Because my dad told me. I pretty well know everybody in this town.” They both got a pretty good laugh out of that. We had a race horse that Kenneth got on a trade for a cow. We named this horse Ginger. On day I was sitting on the horse while Kenneth was changing the water. The horse started to walk away and finding I could not stop him, he started to run. I guess I started to cry and to scream. The horse ran for several miles until the man that picked up our milk (his name was Ross Thomas) saw what was happening and ran in front of the horse and stopped him. I didn’t have much to do with horses for a while after that.

Written by Annavon Westwood Dodge 1945: ANNAVON: I remember, we were moving to Richfield from Circleville. A truck was parked out from the door with a plank extended from porch to truck. Someone was helping dad move the piano across the plank into the truck. Dad was the second one on the plank. As he rubbed past the door casing, matches in his back pocket ignited, and three or four steps onto the plank and his pocket was flaming! I don’t remember which way they ran to put the piano down and get the fire on his “seat” out!

Excerpt from "Family History & Chronology" by Neal WestwoodFebruary 20, 1937: Lois Anna Maud Nickle Hansen married Kenneth John Westwood at the Manti Temple, Manti, Utah. Carroll, Duane and Jeannine were sealed to Kenneth and Lois at this time. (That sealing was later broken with Lois’ temple divorce from Kenneth.) The new little family moved onto a small farm in Circleville, provided to them by Kenneth’s father, John R. Westwood. John was a successful farmer who gave each of his children a similar gift when they each got married, telling them if they worked the farm it would be theirs. The farm consisted of thirty acres of land, a small unfinished basement house with no water or electricity, six milk cows, a wagon and team of horses, two pigs and some chickens; a rugged but hearty beginning. It sounds like a fine start for a young family in those days.

Excerpt from "Family History & Chronology" by Neal Westwood. Memory from about 1953. As usual, Kenneth made lots of promises to mother that he never planned on keeping. One time I was nearby when mother was doing the laundry and she came across some half empty liquor bottles that he had hidden there. She collapsed to the floor, in tears, on the pile of dirty laundry. She cried for a long time, and very often after that. I also remember when Kenneth fell into the machinery on one of the conveyor belts at Kennecott. His back and shoulder was just one large scab. Mother would change the dressings and put salve on it for him. Memory from 1954: Kenneth returned a few times to tearfully beg mother to take him back. Finally, she'd had enough, and thankfully wouldn't give in. One such time, after mother had refused him, I found him sitting on the back porch, smoking. One of mom's conditions had always been that he quit smoking and drinking. I happened to come running around the house and caught him by surprise, sitting there on the wooden steps having one of his "roll yer own" Camel Cigarettes. Of course, I was just as surprised as he was. He collared me with his hands and pulled me right up to his face. I can clearly remember the smoky smell of his hands and the fresh smoke on his breath. I was afraid I was really going to get it, but he just pulled me up and said, "If ya breath a wurd'uv this to yer mother that I wiz smoking', Ah'll beat ya' within an inch of yer life. D'ya unnerstan me?" I believed him perfectly. I promised not to tell, and I never did until now, and I never did tell mother. It seems like this was the last time I saw him for many years. A time or two, I can remember him driving by in the car where I was playing with friends, but never even getting out of the car. We just exchanged a couple of words, and then he was gone.