Lyle Peterson (Evans)

26 Jan 1917 - 18 Oct 1995

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Lyle Peterson (Evans)

26 Jan 1917 - 18 Oct 1995
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Lyle Evans Peterson I was born January 26, 1917 in Lehi, Utah County, Utah. Guy Evans was my father and Myrtle Jane Willes my mother. I have one sister, Bea Evans Bate, who is two and one half years older than I. My father was a farmer. His father, Morgan Evans, died at the age of 45 years. My fathe
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Life Information

Lyle Peterson (Evans)

Born:
Married: 28 Aug 1939
Died:

Provo City Cemetery

610 S State St
Provo, Utah, Utah
United States

Headstone Description

Dean Andrew(middle name?) and Lyle Evans(middle name?)
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davlanders

June 26, 2011
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GraveTrain

June 20, 2011

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LYLE EVANS PETERSON - Autobiography

Contributor: davlanders Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

Lyle Evans Peterson I was born January 26, 1917 in Lehi, Utah County, Utah. Guy Evans was my father and Myrtle Jane Willes my mother. I have one sister, Bea Evans Bate, who is two and one half years older than I. My father was a farmer. His father, Morgan Evans, died at the age of 45 years. My father was the oldest and had to quit school and return home to the farm to help support his mother and run the farm with his three brothers. He was attending the University of Utah, was a basketball player, and a business management major. His father left a heavy debt and my father assumed that debt and helped pay it off. Later he went into banking. When I was three years old my dad opened the bank in Loa, Wayne County, Utah. My mother has always been a beautiful woman, and in my eyes as a child I remember looking up to her in childish awe. It has continued through the years. She has had a great deal of influence on my life. She has given me a beautiful example in her life of love, courage, strength of character, beauty. She is a lovely "lady" in the highest sense of the word. Let me tell you about my parents as I remember them as a child. My father was 5 feet 11 inches tall. He had blond curly hair and twinkling blue eyes. He was a jovial, happy man. He loved life and people. He loved to sing and had a beautiful tenor voice. I really don't remember too many times when my dad "disciplined" us girls. I do remember though that if he was unhappy or cross with us, his voice was the disciplining nature and it broke my heart if ever he was angry with us. I adored him, and I still do as I remember him with us. My mother was 5 feet 5 inches tall. She had long dark hair. (I remember when she wore it in a bob at the back of her neck and in the evening before retiring she would let it down and brush and brush it.) Her eyes are hazel - large and beautiful. She has always been slender, had a beautiful figure, and is erect! Even at 93 years she holds herself erectly. Mom sang, too, and I remember as we would travel in the car, she and Dad would sing - harmonize. One song I remember particularly was "Moonlight and Roses, bring wonderful memories of you." I suppose as long as I live "Moonlight and Roses" will bring all those sweet wonderful memories back to me. My mom baked her own bread. Dad loved it and on baking days Mom always tried to take the bread from the oven just about the time Dad came home from work. I'm sure that is why hot bread from the oven recaptures the picture of my Dad breaking open a round loaf (made especially for him), putting on the butter and honey and with our help would devour that special loaf. I remember when my dad came home from work at night, my mother would rush into his arms for a big hug and kiss, as would we girls. Regardless of what happened later, THAT is the picture I will remember of my mother and father - a happy, warm, loving couple. We lived in Lehi until I was three years old. My memories - I think, are things Mother and Dad told me about, not too much remembering that they happened - are of a lovely little cottage with flowers and grass surrounding it and a large walnut tree in front shading it from the sun, visits to Grandmother Evans' home in town, singing for Aunt Edith while she played a ukulele. Christmas trees at Grandma Evans' were beautiful with hundreds of shimmering icicles hanging straight and beautifully from every branch of the tree. I do remember visits to Grandma and Grandpa Willes' farm and the cookies. We loved to watch the ducks and geese, help Grandma churn the butter, and play on the buggies and wagons. I loved to sit on the white bear rug in front of Grandma and Grandpa's bed, look at pictures, and play. When I was three we moved to Loa, Wayne County, Utah. I remember a dear friend who lived just over the fence from us, Ramona Webster. She was such a special friend to me. The Callahan's owned the hotel. I remember their son, Sterling. He could walk on his hands, and I thought that was fantastic. Our home was just a block away from the large hotel - the only hotel in town. One night I was awakened by loud voices, yelling and crying. I opened my eyes to see, through the transom window in the door, fire! I screamed and Mother and Dad rushed in to see what was wrong. Dad opened the door and we could see the hotel was on fire. We put on robes and slippers and walked through the field as close as we dared and watched as the people tried to put the fire out. For a long time afterward I would wake up crying because a ball of fire was chasing me and I couldn't run fast enough. I was very frightened. Out in our front yard Dad built two swings, a teeter-totter, and a slide. It was a fun place to be and our friends would come over and be with us close by where Mom could watch us. Dad had business to attend to in Salt Lake City occasionally. Bea and I would usually go with Mom and Dad, but I remember one time they left us with friends, Doc and Leah Nelson. Doc was the only doctor in Loa. They didn't have any children, but they had a little bulldog named Jiggs. Leah made coats and sweaters for Jiggs and trained him to bark once for "please" and twice for "thank you." He was a smart little dog. My eighth birthday came while Mom and Dad were gone. I remember the fun party Leah gave me. It was really beautiful and lots of fun. Bea and I went to church and the Bishop announced that anyone who had turned eight should be baptized the next Saturday and said when and where. My sister Bea was always a good little manager and she made sure that I was at the right place at the right time with white clothes and I was baptized. My how surprised Mom and Dad were when they came home and found I had been baptized a new member of the church. Bea has always been very efficient and dependable. Dad and Leo Bown from Provo became partners in a purchase of a ranch. It was called the Boulder Ranch. We spent our summers at the ranch. Bea and I had such fun riding horses. We had our own horse. We called her Star. She was beautiful. We also went hiking and camping out in the red hills. Emma and Leo Bown had three children that I remember. The boy was a little older than Bea. His name was Myron, but they called him Bud. The two girls were EmmaLee and Alice. We had other ups and downs but mostly we had fun together. I remember one time Dad let Bea and me go with him and some of the men to round up some wild horses. I remember one special horse we rounded up. He was big and shiny black with a thick, beautiful mane. Dad also had a large German Shepherd dog named "Keno." He was a well-trained sheep and cattle dog. The ranch was a fun place for the kids. I know that Dad loved every minute of it. Mom's life, however, was a hard one. She and Mrs. Bown washed, cooked, and cleaned for twelve men besides their own families. Washing in those days was with scrubbing boards and big round tubs and hand ringers. I remember Grandmother Willes coming to visit us in Loa. She was a tiny white-haired English lady. In fact, as I look at my Mom right now I see Grandmother - tiny, frail, lovely. It was fun to hear Grandmother talk because she left off her "h's" and put them where they shouldn't be. Grandmother was partially deaf - as a child she had diphtheria and her hearing was affected. She carried a hearing tube. She would put one end in her ear and other end was used to speak into. Mother used to tell us she thought Grandmother could hear better than she let on because if Mother or her brothers and sisters said something smart or critical of others, Grandmother usually heard it. Mother would usually give Grandmother the darning bag when she visited to "keep her hands busy." She was very clever with her hands and handwork. I started school in Loa. Francis Callahan was my first grade teacher. We moved from Loa to Salt Lake City when I was in second grade. Dad went to work for Central Trust Company as a banker and stock and bond salesman. I don't know the details, but my Dad lost the ranch and all his equity in it because of a dishonest deal by the man who was supposed to "buy" it. Our first home in Salt Lake City was an apartment house - the Meredith Apartments located on First Avenue almost to A Street. Can you imagine Bea and me in a four-room apartment after having a ranch to roam? Our landlady called us "wild Indians" and I'm sure we were. I remember skating down the steep driveway by the apartments. We'd go faster and faster and I'm sure squeal with delight (our delight, the tenants dismay). We lived on the first floor. We could open our front window and climb outside with ease. Poor mother. I'm sure it must have been very hard for her to try to contain us, quiet us, yet keep us happy. The Meredith Apartments had a stairway from the south side of the apartments down to South Temple Street. Bea and I would often go down those long, steep stairs to the public library on State Street. Mom and Dad encouraged us to read and helped us to love reading. We would get books every week and spend hours reading. I still love to read. We were members of the 18th Ward. Bea and I attended the Lafayette School. School was fun. The principal was a lady, Miss Ferris. She was a twin to the lady at the public library. They were both tall, prim, strict, but very nice. It was at Lafayette School that I became aware of boys. They were such teases and would chase me. My sister, Bea, became my guardian. I'm sure Mom and Dad would say to Bea, "Take care of Lyle," and Bea did. I can remember boys teasing, pulling my hair, and Bea scolding and threatening them. Then the boys would yell at Bea and me, "There goes Maggie and her hard-boiled sister." I was "dearie" to Bea. She was sweet to me. One cold, snowy winter morning Bea and I were going to school. We were on State Street and Canyon Road. We were running. I didn't see a car coming. The driver tried to stop and couldn't. The bumper of the car hit me knocking me down, and the car ran over me. I wasn't hurt, but I do remember I had on a new red cape Mother had made for me and it was well greased. I was bruised and frightened, and I was crying. The driver pulled me out from under the car. Bea was crying. He carried me to the school to tell Miss Ferris what had happened and that he was taking me home. He took Bea and me into the apartment house. Bea showed him which apartment. When she opened the door and Mother came running to us, the man said in a loud voice, "Lady, I ran over your little girl." Grandmother Willes' sister, Aunt Annie, was with Mother. She was a practical nurse. She examined me and found only bruises on my back where the impact of the car hit me. The man left after apologizing and saying he was sorry over and over. I was loved and given assurance. I was put warmly and comfortably on the couch with pillows and blankets. I snuggled down and slept or listened to Mom and Aunt Annie talk. Mom said that night as I said my prayers my words went like this: "Heavenly Father, bless me that I'm not dead." I had learned a lesson of how precious life is and the lesson of gratitude. On Sundays after church, Dad would take us for a ride up the east part of the city where there were so many beautiful homes. We would drive slowly and gaze at each home seeing what we liked or didn't - window shopping so to speak. Dad would often buy Cummings Chocolates and we loved it - driving, looking, and savoring each bite of chocolates. Then one day Mom and Dad chose a little bungalow on Sherman Avenue almost to 15th East. We moved there. I was nine years old. We attended the Uintah School and went to the Wasatch Ward. I loved it there. Close friends of Mom and Dad's, Herbert and Edna Taylor, lived near by. They had a daughter, Glenda. She was a lovely girl and very talented. She could do art work beautifully. I'll always remember the beautiful paper dolls and clothes she made. She also played the piano very well. We had fun together. My memories of the Sherman Avenue home are very special. Having lots of friends in the neighborhood, playing "run sheepy run," "statue," "Annie I over," hearing happy voices, feeling love and sweetness in the home, going to church together - just sweet warm memories of home, family and the special things you dream about, being loved and wanted. It was in that house I remember Mother's hot bread with butter and honey, Mom's loving greetings when Dad came home from work, Dad mowing the lawn and his happy whistling or singing as he worked. It was also the house in which one of the saddest things happened to us as a family. The Christmas before I turned twelve was one of the saddest in my life. Daddy always brought a Christmas tree home two days before Christmas. We would trim the tree on Christmas Eve as a family. It was always such a happy time for us. Dad brought home the tree as usual, but Christmas Eve Daddy didn't come home. We waited and waited and no Dad. Finally Mother said, "Come on, we'll trim the tree and surprise Daddy." So we did, but we cried a little because we missed Daddy's happy, cheerful person taking charge. Mom was worried. We were disappointed. Mom put us to bed. When Daddy did finally get home I remember for the first time in our home harsh voices, unkind words, Mother crying, Daddy angry. I really don't remember that Christmas Day, but from then until the middle of January our lives were very different. We were to move. Mom drove us to our schools - the new ones we were to attend. Daddy and Mother had found an apartment, the Roberta Apartments on South Temple and Fifth East, to live in. Daddy didn't live with us after that. Until we moved into the apartment, Mom would take us to school and then come and get us after school. I was in seventh grade. I remember to this day the first day when Mother drove me to school, waved good-bye tearfully, and drove off. I stood by a tree in front of the school watching the other children playing ball, hopscotch, etc. I felt so alone and frightened. A lovely, tall, slender girl came over to me and introduced herself to me. Her name was Alleen Warner. She was so nice to me, and I did need a friend so much at that moment. She had blonde hair, lovely big hazel eyes, and a very warm "I care" way. Alleen and I have been close friends all through the years. The day we moved from our home Dad took us out to eat at a restaurant in Sugar House. We ate and then we parted ways. Dad went his way and we went to our little apartment. It was a small apartment. There was one bedroom and the front room. It had a "murphy bed" you pull down each night. Bea and I slept on the murphy bed and Mom slept in the bedroom. That first while I would wake up to hear Mother crying. There wasn't anything I could do for Mom to help that ache in her heart. That hurt that I'm sure she had knowing Dad just walked out on us - wondering what she had done to deserve such agony. Her nightly sobs broke my heart. She was so lovely and sweet. WHY? WHY? I couldn't understand why Daddy would do such a thing, but I love him so and I'm sure I was (and perhaps still am) defensive for him. But, of course, at the same time I was hurt that he would desert us. I'm not sure anyone really explained to me why it happened. Through the years I have come to feel that Daddy was so distraught (and I suppose) almost desperate because of his losses of money and properties, he felt he had to get on top somehow. He decided he was going to make money some way. He'd known debt before, and I'm sure it wasn't easy to pay back Grandpa's debts and then try to overcome all these losses, too. He said he didn't want to hurt Mom or drag her through more misery. He was not going to be discreet nor did he care what people would think of him. He just wanted to get back his losses. He just didn't want Mother to suffer. Didn't he know she suffered MORE AS A DISCARDED WIFE than she would have trying to help him work through more money worries?!!! Mother went to LSD Business College to take shorthand and typing to prepare herself to get work. I went on to Bryant Junior High School. I worked in the lunchroom as a cashier for my lunch. I have my report cards for the two years I was at Bryant Junior High - straight "A's." Mother got a job at ZCMI. Bea was going to East High School. Somehow we were surviving. I graduated from Bryant, Bea from East. I went to East High and Bea to the University of Utah. Bea and I were dating, sometimes double dating together and that was fun. In spite of being without Dad, we found a lot of fun things to do together. We were in the 20th Ward. Mother worked in the Relief Society. She was a counselor to Sister McConkie. On special days, Mom would take Bea and me to Hotel Utah to eat, or the ZCMI Tearoom. We saw Daddy once in a while. He would take us girls to a show or dinner occasionally. Then Dad came to see Mother and ask her for a divorce. They had been separated five years. Of course, she went ahead with the divorce. She felt so degraded, so embarrassed to be a divorcee. She still loved him although he had hurt her so. Finances became a little tight. We moved again. This time to the Piccadilly Apartments just around the corner from the Roberta. It was a basement apartment and not so expensive. I got a part-time job at Kresses. I baby-sat and I also sat in a doctor's apartment to take calls. I was going steady with a boy by the name of Melvin Peterson. We went to all of the Cadet Hops at the different high schools and had some really fun times. I graduated from East High School in 1934. I got a job at the State Banking Department liquidation division as a secretary. Daddy married again to a woman from Holland. Her name was Johanna Parleylet, we called her Joan. She was much younger than Daddy. Once or twice Daddy and Joan would take Bea and me to dinner or a show. Once Joan took Bea and me to lunch at ZCMI, and wouldn't you know it, we met Mother there. Mother had never met Joan. I introduced them very clumsily, "Mother, this is Daddy's wife." Oh me! One night about a year after Daddy and Joan had married, Mother got a call from Joan. It was really late at night, midnight or so as I remember. Joan said they were staying at the hotel in Burley, Idaho, and Daddy was very ill. He was asking for us. Would we come? Mother said of course we would come. We packed our bags in a hurry, climbed in the car and drove for hours and hours up to Burley. I'll never forget how long that ride took. Dad was in a coma when we finally arrived. We wanted so much to have him open his eyes if only for a moment and tell us he loved us. He didn't. He died that night -- hours later. It was a long wait and Mom was the one who sat patiently by his bedside waiting, hoping, and then he was gone. Daddy was 45 years old when he died - March 30, 1935. I was 18 years old. Bea was 20. He didn't even know we had come. The funeral, arranged by Joan, of course, was in Salt Lake City. I can still see my Dad lying in his dark suit in the coffin and how shocked I was to see the dark suit. All I had ever seen up to then was white. It seemed so final. Mother and Daddy were married in the temple and the divorce had been only a civil divorce - not a temple divorce. My mother is still sealed to Daddy and I cling to that very much. We moved again to a smaller, less expensive apartment still in the same neighborhood. I loved my job at the Banking Department. Mother was still at ZCMI. She was head of the Dress Department and in charge of fashion shows. I was one of her models a couple of times, and it was fun. Mother met Thomas Bailey, a business man, from Nephi, Utah. He was 22 years older than Mother, but he was a good man. He was kind, and he loved Mother. He proposed to her and she accepted. They were married for time only in the Manti Temple. Tom really wanted her to get a temple divorce and be sealed to him eternally. He gave Mother a home, security and love. Things she needed very much. I could understand her needing and wanting the security. I like Tom. He was kind to me, but I had reservations and heartaches of my own kind over the marriage. It is really difficult to have someone else married to your mother. I was young, and now I know my feelings were very selfish ones, but natural ones. They lived in Salt Lake City for a while. Tom had a home in Nephi and a business. Mom so wanted to stay in Salt Lake for our sakes, I'm sure. Tom had three children. Ray was his only son. He was married to Mary Romney and they had two little girls, Trenna was only ten years younger than Mother. Felma was the youngest. Felma was dating Ralph Chase, a charming nice fellow who worked for Tom. My sister Bea graduated from the University of Utah and was offered a job teaching, but instead she married Earl Bate. Earl was a red-headed, freckled faced, fun-loving, dare devil type of fellow. He had a motorcycle. He was a policeman for a while and then he learned to fly airplanes and that became his profession. He was the head controller of air traffic. Bea had always been a quiet person and I think Earl helped her release some of the inner tensions. Earl was a member of the Mormon Church but not active. Bea became inactive. They moved to Ogden for a while and then on to California. So there I was: 18 years old, my father gone, my mom was married again and now my sister was married. I decided it was time for me to get away from home. I decided I should go to college. A friend of mine had interested me in Brigham Young University. Mother and Tom thought it would be great. I found an apartment with five other girls in the basement of a home on 600 North and 200 East in Provo. It was only three or four blocks from the University Hill - halfway between the Upper Campus and the Lower Campus. I found a job as a BYU telephone operator to help me with expenses. That first year at BYU was a happy one. I loved the Y. There was so much to do. I went to all of the games, lyceums, matinee dances and other activities. I made a lot of friends. The year went fast. I was going out with some really nice fellows. Wayne Rogers and I had met before I came to the Y, and I liked him a lot. He was in drama and had leads in many of the university plays. Linc Garner was a sports person. He played basketball for the Y and he loved to box. Avard Rigby was a fun person to be with. Linc and Avard were really good friends. I joined a "social unit" named LAVADIS. We planned some nice social dances, parties, etc. It was at BYU that I met Dean Peterson. I was a freshman. He was a junior. He was a tall, slender, nice looking fellow. He was blonde with blue eyes. He played in an orchestra, the Y band, and with a dance band. He also worked at the BYU Library. He always asked me to dance at the matinee dances and was often at the MIA dances and asked me. At the end of his junior year, he and Wayne Rogers ran against each other for Student Body President. Wayne was the winner, and Dean was elected to be Senior Class President. Mother and Tom had moved to Nephi. During the summer months I lived with them and got a job as secretary to P.N. Anderson, an attorney-at-law. My sophomore year I lived at a small home on 100 East between 600 and 700 North. Dean and I started to go together quite frequently. Dean was 6 feet 1 inches tall, blonde, and a returned missionary from Norway. His home was in Mt. Pleasant, Utah. His father was a bishop. He had been a banker most of his life. Dean's mother had brown hair, blue eyes, and was very reserved. She was unhappy that Dean and I were getting serious. She had already picked out the girl Dean should marry. He had dated her for some time before his mission, and she was a Mt. Pleasant girl. Dean had one sister, Rhoda, married to Hans Reed Christensen, a professor and farmer. They lived in Ephraim. They had two children, Jay and Nedra. He also had two brothers, Elden and Wayne, both younger than him. Elden attended BYU and I had been on a date or two with him. Wayne was about five years younger than me. I liked them both and enjoyed being with them. Dean graduated from BYU in 1938. He got a teaching job at North Sanpete High. His brother Wayne was in his classes. He taught commercial subjects. During the summer months I lived in Nephi with Mom and Tom. Dean would come over on the weekends to see me. Nephi was just half an hour's drive from Mt. Pleasant. Dean worked at the Pea Viner that summer and his hours were long and hard, but we did see each other. My junior year, 1938-39, I went back to the same home to live. It was lonesome at the Y without Dean there, but we wrote and saw each other as often as we could. I was in love and it was the real thing. There was a professor at the Y who taught night classes and gave lectures in Sanpete. Sometimes I would ride down to Mt. Pleasant with him and visit with Dean and then drive back after the classes. It was so special and gave Dean and me more time to be together. Mother really loved Dean and trusted him explicitly. Tom approved, too. In the middle of my junior year I got a strep throat and was quite ill. I was out of school too long and lost out on the classes I was taking so I discontinued. I got a job in Salt Lake City with the Kathern Yergensen Teaching Agency. It put Dean and me further apart in distance, but he would drive up to Salt Lake whenever he could find time. The summer of 1939 Dean went to Los Angeles to start his masters degree at the University of Southern California. I was invited in June of that year to travel with my mother's sister, Aunt Eva, and her husband, Uncle Dave Wangsgaard, and their daughter, Genee. Genee and I had always been close and Aunt Eva thought Genee would be happier on the trip if she had someone with her. We drove to Calgary, Canada; Banff; and Lake Louise. It was so beautiful. We stayed a few days in that area and then drove down the coast to California, stopping at our convenience and pleasure and where we could find motels at good rates. It was a wonderful experience and the first opportunity I had had to travel outside of Utah. Uncle Dave and Aunt Eva were both teachers (Uncle Dave, really a school superintendent) and were to attend school for a couple of weeks in Berkeley, California. Genee and I wandered the city window-shopping or doing whatever we felt like. We swam and read. I remember the fresh boysenberry tarts we'd buy and eat as we walked. It was a special time for me. When their schooling was over we drove on to Los Angeles and stayed a few days there. Now THAT was the destination I'd looked forward to (the "frosting on the cake" so to speak) because Dean was there and I was to see him. Uncle Dave teased me the entire trip because I would slyly tell him he must be going north not south and much too slowly, and he'd tease me about being just too anxious to see Dean. Dean proposed to me under a banyan tree in front of the house where he was living. "Let's get married, Butch (his pet name for me) - Will you marry me?" and I answered a little flippantly because we'd gone these rounds before, "Sure, honey, right now?" Many times he'd said let's get married to me in a "sometime, someday" way to let me know he loved me and marriage was at the end of the rainbow. We knew we couldn't get married while he was living in California. So I really didn't think it was a proposal for real. He wrote to me after I had gone and said "I mean it, will you?" It reassured me of his love and I knew when he came home in July (this was June) somehow things would work out. Dean called me as soon as he arrived in Mt. Pleasant. He had an offer - a contract to sign to teach at Dixie Jr. College in St. George, Utah. It was a definite offer that he would accept if I would marry him, and we would make our home in St. George. Of course, I said yes and Dean brought his parents over to Nephi to meet Mother and Tom and set the date. We set it for August 28, 1939! Dean's grandparents wanted to meet me so I went to Mt. Pleasant to meet them. Peter and Celeste Peterson were two of the sweetest people I'd ever met. I remember as Dean took me over to meet them they were sitting on the glider swing in the shade of a large lilac bush in the front yard of Dean's parent's home. Grandma took my hand, held it with both of her hands, and patted my hand as she talked. She said they had waited a long time for Dean to find the right girl, and they were so glad he finally had found me. Dean was 26 and I was 22. Mother and I were in a whirl the following month. We went to Salt Lake City to choose a wedding dress and wardrobe. There were wedding showers and all the preparations for the wedding. It was a happy time. Dean and I were married in the Manti Temple by President Robert Young, the Temple President, and we had our reception in Nephi. Mother really put her heart into it. She loved Dean and was truly happy for us. It was a beautiful reception and so many people came from all over. When the reception line broke, the orchestra played the Wedding Song, and Dean and I danced all alone on the floor. Then others joined in. Dean's father loaned us his car and we drove to Provo that night after the reception and stayed at the Roberts Hotel. It was the only hotel at that time in Provo. We went on to Yellowstone Park for our honeymoon. We stayed in a little log cabin. It had one room with a coal stove to heat it. Dean made the fire each morning until the last morning. We traveled all over Yellowstone seeing the geysers and all the sights and just enjoying being together. The last morning we were there Dean said it was my turn to get up and make the fire. Of course, I thought he was teasing. But he wasn't. You see, I had never had to make a fire in my entire life. I didn't know how, nor did I think this was a very good time to learn. I can't remember what was said, but a fire didn't get made at all. I got up, dressed, and helped pack the car. All this was done with complete silence! Our first "fight." We climbed in the car and drove for miles before we decided it was pretty silly to be mad any longer over such a small item. We kissed and then everything was all right again. (I'm still a lousy fire maker.) St. George was a charming place to live. Our first apartment was a basement apartment under the movie theater right in the center of town a block from the college. Jack Wadsworth was our landlord. He was a huge man but very nice. He owned the movie theater and would let us go to the show once in a while for free. Our bishop was 25 years old - very young in those days to be a bishop. He owned the bakery right next door to our apartment house. He was always bringing us treats from the bakery - donuts, potato chips, and sweet rolls. Bishop Andrew McArthur and his wife, Myrle, were really sweet to Dean and me. School was about to start and there were steak fries, parties, and meetings so we met all the faculty members and their companions. We loved it. We made friends with the older students, too. The weather was great - much warmer than Utah County. The first year went by quickly and happily. The summer of 1940 Dean and I went to Los Angeles for Dean to go on with his masters degree studies. I got a job at the University as a thesis typist to help with expenses. I was expecting our first baby. In some of my spare time while Dean was at school I found a little knit shop. I bought some yarn and they showed me how to knit. That was the beginning of one of my favorite hobbies. We went back to St. George in the fall for another year at Dixie Jr. College. The baby's arrival was to be the 24th of December. Dean's parents came down to St. George for Thanksgiving. It was November 24, 1940. We had a good dinner and were playing a game of Rook when my pains started. Little Pete was born that day. He was a month pre-mature, a little less than five pounds, tiny, but so beautiful to us. I stayed in the hospital ten days. That was the magical time allotted for new mothers. Little Pete really didn't want to eat. We had to pry his little jaws open before he would take hold. There was the cutest English nurse there taking care of us. One day she was helping get Pete to eat and she said, "Petah, if you want to be a big man like your fathah, you bettah eat your suppah!" Dr. Reichert was our doctor. He was so nice. His office was just across the street. He was always available and willing. Mother came to St. George to be with me and help. It was so nice to have her there. World War II began in 1940. Dean's draft call was #3 but because I was with child he was deferred for the time. Many of our friends were called up, drafted, and had to go to war. I loved being a mother, keeping our apartment clean, and cooking. By the time Pete was six months old he was a chubby, darling baby, and he really thrived in spite of the "old wives' tale" that few 8-month babies survive. I guess you hear everything when you are in the circumstances and worry when you hear these things. You become more fearful. I had almost lost Pete when I was three months pregnant and when he was born Dr. Reichert told us it was a miracle that either the baby or I survived. The human body is wonderful, and the Lord knew how very much we needed to keep our son. Dean was offered a teaching job at Weber Jr. College in Ogden for the 1941-42 school year. We moved to Ogden. We found a really nice duplex apartment. My college friend, Dorothy McGuire, had married Johnny Carlton, and they were living in Ogden. We really enjoyed cooking dinners for each other, going to dances, and shows. It's always so much more special when you have close friends to share. It was 1941 when Tom (Mom's husband) became very ill with cancer. He was in the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City. Mother stayed right by his side for the many weeks he was ill. He died at the hospital about four months later. It was sad to see mother alone again. Dean and I traveled back and forth to Mt. Pleasant and Nephi on the weekends. Dean signed his contract with Weber for another year and we were planning to return. Little Pete (we named him Erlend Dean, but he still is called Pete) was such fun. He loved his Dad so and would watch for him to come home after work. When he saw him he'd get the evening paper (that was one of the first things Dean looked for), run and sit in Dean's favorite chair, open the paper (most of the time it would be upside down) and he would pretend to read when his Dad came in. Dean would swoop Pete and paper up and fall into the chair to hug and hold his boy and read his paper. It was always so much joy to watch them together. Toward the end of the school year Dean was offered a job at BYU. We went in to see President Dixon, President of Weber College, to ask for a release from Dean's contract. President Dixon was very kind. Dean and I moved to Provo. One of the men who had recommended Dean for the job, Evan Croft, had a basement apartment in his home. We moved into it. Dean loved the Y and so did I. It was like coming home to both of us. We had wanted to come to the Y to teach. It was a dream fulfilled. While we were living in the Croft apartment I miscarried with a little boy at 5 months. It was the fall of 1942. We moved from the Croft home to Muhlestein Apartments on 800 North and 700 East. It was a three-room apartment. We loved it. It was right under the University Hill, close to Dean's work. I enjoyed being in a sunny light place after the dark basement apartment. It was while we were there that I was asked to teach in the 9th Ward Primary. Ariel Ballif was our bishop. Dean was called to be a counselor in the Stake MIA. We were busy and happy and little Pete was really thriving. President Franklin S. Harris was the president of BYU. Besides teaching, Dean was Assistant to the President. Dean was so organized and a perfectionist. He really enjoyed his work. I was happy. Dean was always so kind and sweet to me. He was a good husband and a good father to little Pete. Christmas of 1943 I was expecting. I was seven months pregnant. We had been visiting in Mt. Pleasant with Dean's family and on December 27th we drove over to Nephi to be with Mother for the rest of our vacation time before going back to school. When we arrived in Nephi I was miserable. I was having very severe pains. We called Dr. Don C. Merrill in Provo and he said to come on to Provo and check in at the hospital. He would meet us there. He was there waiting when we arrived. It was a long hard delivery. The cord was short and they were afraid it was wrapped around the baby's neck. Our little girl (Karen Deanne) was born that day, December 27, 1943. She was put in an incubator and I was not even allowed to get up to see her. She lived five days. New Year's morning about 5 a.m. a grim, unsympathetic nurse waked me up to tell me my baby had expired. I asked them to call Dean, but they waited until a "decent" hour, 8 a.m., to let him know our baby had died. I refused to stay longer in the hospital. I was home in bed when Grandma Peterson brought little Pete home to us. How good it was to have that boy in my arms. Dean made arrangements to buy our first piece of land - a burial plot. We had a graveside service. Before the service they brought little Karen in her casket for me to see. I hadn't even had a chance to hold her. She was a beautiful little girl with lots of dark hair. She had a dimple in her chin. She was very tiny. Dean and his Dad had blessed her and given her a name. It was in the fall of 1943 that Mother moved to Provo and became a dorm mother at BYU at the Knight Mangum Hall and then later at Amanda Knight Hall. Dr. Wesley P. Lloyd interviewed her. We were so happy to have her closer to us. Knight Mangum Hall was a new dorm - so new that not all the doors were in. One hundred and fifty girls in a dorm that needed one hundred and one things to finish it Somehow Mother pulled through that. Dr. Amos N. Merrill asked me to take blessings he gave (patriarchal blessings) and type them up for him. I was doing this at the time I lost little Karen Deanne. Dr. Merrill gave me a special blessing so I could have more family. This was the second baby I had lost since having Pete. We were wanting a baby so much and it just seemed that we were not to be blessed with more children. The blessing was a great comfort to me. I was a member of BYU Women's Organization, a counselor to Irva Andrus. I was a member of Bonheur, a social club with other BYU wives. I was in the Stake Primary Presidency. Edna Terry was the president. I met many wonderful people and had some very spiritual and beautiful experiences. April 26, 1945, I gave birth to a baby girl, Janet Lynne. She was such a choice beautiful experience for us. She was chubby and beautiful. She was serious for most everyone but her family. She was such a miracle to us. We were so baby hungry and she fulfilled all we needed. Pete was almost five years old by that time and as delighted as he was to have a little sister, his "nose was out of joint" a little since he didn't get ALL of our attention. April 19, 1947, Susan Kay was born. She had a lot of dark curly hair and was always happy. It was wonderful to have two girls together. They were blessed as friends as well as sisters. They still feel that closeness these many years later. Janet would always want Susan to go where ever she went - hand in hand. I would watch these two and think a little of Bea and me and how she watched after me. In 1948 we bought a lot, and Dean and some of our friends bought temporary buildings that had been built during the war, dissembled them and built us a little garage house on our lot. We planted a peach tree. I remember the first peaches on the tree. They were so good and big. We bought some little baby chickens to raise, kill and freeze. Pete was devastated to think we would kill them. He had become so attached to them he just didn't understand. We bought him a cocker spaniel dog which helped. How he loved that dog. July 29, 1949, Dolores Ann was born. What a darling curly headed blonde she was. I had just got her home and had to go back to the hospital for an operation. She was the only bottle-fed baby I had, but she thrived. Janet Lynn was four years old in 1949 when she was hit by an automobile. She and a group of children were "following the mailman." There was a house being constructed and the lady behind the wheel didn't see Janet as she ran out in the street. One of the neighbors came rushing in to me to tell me and I was glad my mother was there with me. Someone had called an ambulance and I climbed in with her and we went to Dr. Don C. Merrill's office. She had a broken leg. Dr. Merrill put her leg in a cast and gave us some little crutches to use. She was the hit of the neighborhood. I mean, every child in the area had to walk with the aid of her crutches and sign her cast. It was also a good lesson for all of them to be careful when they crossed the street. She had her cast for six months. It was a bad break In 1951 we received a call from President Franklin S. Harris who was in Salt Lake City to recruit people to go to Iran. He was country director in Iran for the Point Four Program. They wanted people from BYU for Education, University of Utah for Health Program - preventative as well as medical doctors, and from Utah State University in Logan for Agriculture. We were excited about the program. We went up to see President Harris at the Hotel Utah and after a briefing we decided to go. Others who were going were Max and Janet Berryessa, Glen and Marge Gagen, and Reed and Shirley Bradford. We began to meet together to make plans for our new adventure. We'd be gone for two years. We had some Iranian students who were at the Y come and talk to us. This was at the first of the year - February or March of 1951. The contracts were government but through BYU. We were thoroughly investigated, the contracts were hanging on a lot of government red tape, and it all took time. August or September was the projected time of leaving. In August we shipped all the clothes, washing machine, etc. we would be taking to Iran. All very necessary things. The day the big truck came to take our things Janet Lynne became ill with nausea and a terrible headache. Dr. Merrill watched her overnight and then we took her to the hospital. It was diagnosed as polio. Then, because there were no iron lungs at the Utah Valley Hospital, she was transferred to the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake. The doctor called us and said the ambulance would leave the hospital in 15 minutes. We were to follow the ambulance. What a ride that was. We could see the lights go on in the ambulance and the doctors and nurses attending to Janet time and again. It was a long old ride and an anxious one. When we got to 33rd South the ambulance turned on its lights and siren and sped ahead and we lost it. When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor who was to take over was waiting for us for our signature for a tracheotomy. Her lungs were ready to collapse. It was touch and go for weeks. It was so hard to see our little Janet in an iron lung, but how grateful we were she had made it - only minutes until paralysis took over. She had both bulbar (lungs were paralyzed) and spinal. She was paralyzed all down her left side. Dean and I drove to Salt Lake every day to see her. When there was an emergency they would let us put on white gowns and masks and go in to see her. It was so frightening to go to the hospital and see a red flag by her name on the register. When she was all right we would stand outside her window where she could see us and we her. The other children went with us when they could be outside and see her. Janet developed pneumonia after she had been there a few weeks, and we thought we would lose her. There was one sweet nurse that night who stayed for a double shift to stand by Janet. She said her big brown eyes pleaded with her and she couldn't leave. What a blessing she was to us and our little Janet. We had her name in every temple, and our prayers were joined by all our families and friends. She was given a blessing by David O. McKay. She was given other blessings, too. She was given a lot of tender loving care. Then she was out of the iron lung. When the tube had been removed from her trachea, she learned how to breathe on her own again. We were given permission to take her home. It was so wonderful to have her home again, but at the same time she was far from well enough to go to Iran. The contracts were signed and plans made for departures for everyone. Dean and I prayed about it and decided to go talk to a General Authority about taking Janet so far away from doctors and home when she had been so ill. Ezra Taft Benson was the one who was available when we went to the Church Office Building. He listened to us and then said, "Yes, go. It doesn't matter where you live. If you live the best you can, keep the commandments of the Lord, pay your tithes, etc. the Lord will bless you." So the day after we brought Janet home, Dean left for Washington D.C. He was to drive to Washington, ship his car with the others (they were going by ship), and fly to Iran. The children and I stayed in Provo in our little garage home to wait out Janet's recovery before we joined Dean in Iran. A few days after Dean left, Janet fevered to 106 degrees. I couldn't get her fever down. In the middle of the night I was so frightened and felt so alone, I called my next door neighbor, Afton Porter, and she came over and sat with me by Janet's bedside until about 5 a.m. I called Dr. Merrill and he put her back in the hospital with a kidney infection and pneumonia. I tried to get in touch with Dean but couldn't. I had this one by myself. A week later Janet came home again and from then on was much better. It was two and a half months after that we found a renter for our little house, packed and moved out. Mother took us to the Hotel Utah for the night and then to the airport the next morning. Wayne and Mother were the ones to wave good-bye to us as we flew from Salt Lake City for our trip halfway around the world. "Gird up your loins, fresh courage take," were words that fit the occasion. Here I was flying for the first time and four precious children in my care, but the "drive" to get where Dean was foremost in my heart and mind. Pete was ten, Janet was six, Susan was four, and Chuckie was two. We flew out early in the morning to Chicago, changed planes and flew to New York. In those days we had to fly to Idlewilde Airport and go by bus to the International flights. We had a traumatic experience with the bus driver over the fact that we should have had passes to go on the bus and no one had told me. I was not about the get off that bus with my four children just to get the passes. I finally said, "Is there no way other than getting off the bus?" "Sure," he said, "Pay me." I said, "Why didn't you say that's all I had to do. How much?" The whole bus load was cheering me on. I paid and away we went. We had a ten hour wait at the international airport as it was. The children were fantastically good for me. We all got tired and were grateful when the time came for us to board our flight. We arrived in Paris the next day. With four children and me so untraveled, I didn't dare leave the airport. Again we waited for the late evening flight out. We had games, puzzles, coloring books, etc. to keep us busy, and a book to read. We loved reading together. We were flying first class so were the first ones to board the plane. From Paris we flew to Beirut, Lebanon. We had a three or four hour wait there and then on to Tehran. As we got off the plane we saw Dean on the other side of the wall. We knew he was there and we were going to be together. President Harris went with us through customs before we could get to Dean. Susan kept pulling on my skirt and asking, "Don't you want to see Daddy? He's just outside. Come on, Mama, let's go see Daddy." But then we were finally out hugging Dean - a family again - halfway around the world, but we were together again. Dean had borrowed a car and he took us through the city showing us all the sights and then up to the Darban Hotel. All of the Utah people who were in Teheran were at the hotel and out to greet us. This was to be our home for a couple of months. It was really nice. It was fun to meet the U of U people and the USU people who were to be almost like "family" for our stay there. We finally found a nice brick home about ten miles from the city in a little place called Tajrish. About five of the Utah families were in that area - Petersons, Ballards, Milligans, Roskelleys and Berryessas. Our home had a swimming pool. It was so neat. We had a gardener, and his little 17-year-old wife was a maid for a while but really didn't know how to clean. She was dishonest and stole (as we found many of them did). Pete went to an international school, where 26 nationalities were represented. I taught the girls with the CALVERT SYSTEM. It was kind of fun. We had school each morning. President Harris had been called and set apart as a branch president when he was in Utah recruiting and so all of us in Teheran were put to work. I taught a Beehive class in MIA to the 3 or 4 girls. Dean was in the branch presidency. As a family we did things together. We had to make our own entertainment, and we were closer as a family than ever before. It was so fantastic when we had fast meeting to hear the young children stand and bear their testimonies. In 1952 there was a political cou'e that made it dangerous for us to stay in Iran. The American government suggested that those of us with families leave the country. With four children they told me if we needed to evacuate, Dean would be the last to get out. They would have to take the women and children first. Janet Berryessa had gone, as had some of the other wives and children. The children and I were to go to Europe and wait for the country to be safer. Dean went with us as far as the Holyland. We took a tour, and even though we knew we were going to have to part soon, we enjoyed being in the Holyland walking where Jesus walked. We prayed sincerely that the time for us to be apart again would not be for long. Dean took us to our plane and waved good-bye. It was more frightening now than at home. We felt very much alone. The children and I flew to Switzerland and Dean flew back to Iran. The government had promised us if we waited in Europe until the trouble was over, we could return to Iran. We flew to Zurich and then took a train to Bern where some of the other families had gone. It was especially beautiful to us after being in Iran where there is very little foliage. But it was lonesome without Dean. Trying to keep the children quiet and happy in the hotel was impossible so after a week or so, the children and I took the train to Frankfurt and a taxi to Herkxt where Janet Berryessa and her two children were staying with her sister Helen and family. Helen and Dave put us up for a night or two and then took me out looking for a Pension (which was like a boarding house at home). We found one in Bad Soden, a few miles from Herkxt. We went to the military branch of our church. Dave and Helen were very kind to me and went out of their way to pick us up for church and bring us home. I don't know what we would have done without them. We enjoyed our stay in Bad Soden. There was a dear little shop just a block from our Pension that had porcelain figurines and beautiful gifts. I loved the little Hummels especially. It was cold that winter in Germany. the humidity factor had a lot to do with how cold it was. Janet was ill off and on and we worried about her. We bought the warmest coats and caps we could find for the children. I was so proud of Pete. He was so dependable and good to help. He went to school in Frankfurt, an American school. He had to take the train to Herkxt, change to another train to Frankfurt, and then a bus to his school. My how trusting I was to let him venture out like that, but he proved that he could do it. Janet and I met often and shopped or had lunch. How nice to have friends like Janet and Helen and Dave. Dean and Max Berryessa came over in January to see us and then flew back to Iran. It was March of 1953. We were told we could return to Iran so the Berryessas and the Petersons flew back to be with our husbands and daddies. We signed a contract to stay another year. We lived in the same area we had before but a different house. One day our little Susan, who was not yet six, tried to push a door which was half glass window to open it. The paint was sticky and the door refused to open. Susan had pushed against the window part and the glass shattered and her arm was badly cut. Dean was there, thank goodness, and knew how to put on a tourniquet which he did and we lived just a ways from a nurse's house. Pete stayed with Janet and Chuckie while we ran with Susan to the nurse's home for her to check the arm first and then we drove to Teheran to the Army hospital. It was a while before the doctor came in to us. He was amazed at the length of the cut - her wrist almost to her elbow. He was so cute with Susan and he took many stitches to sew that arm up. On our return Pete informed us that everything was going to be all right. He and the girls had prayed together and received the assurance that Susan would be fine. We were grateful that Pete had known what to do. We had needed that prayer very much. Our experiences in Iran taught us many things: How much we love our country and the freedoms we have in America. How very much we take for grated everyday things like turning on a tap to get a drink of water and drinking it without worry of illness, eating foods without a thought of disinfecting for safeguard of health. How very nice it is to be home near family members and friends. How nice to be near the temple where we can attend whenever possible. How choice it is to go to conference (or even listen to it on the radio) and hear the General Authorities. How nice to go to church without first having to clear with the police. All these, and many more, had become very precious to us. These experiences had been very good for us because we were stronger for having had them. We returned to Utah after a stop in Norway - a promised visit to Norway from Dean. His gift to us. It was so beautiful and wonderful to meet his special people. Mother and Mom Peterson met us in New York. We picked up a brand new car, a Pontiac, which we had ordered before leaving Iran. We drove home, visiting, singing, seeing our country with new eyes, loving our Moms more for having not seen them for three years! It was 1955. We shopped for a house. We found one in Orem, Utah. We rented our garage home and moved into our new home at 526 East 400 North. It was a lovely home. Dean taught the Gospel Doctrine class. I taught in Primary. Then Dean was put in the High Council and I was called to be president of the ward MIA for the Young Women. I was just beginning to really enjoy it when I was called to be Stake YWMIA President. That one was a real challenge, but a beautiful experience. We loved our home and our neighbors. The children were happy in school. Life was good to us. Dean was called to be a Bishop on the BYU Campus. That really filled his time. And he was making so many trips back and forth. And I was still Stake YWMIA President. But once in a while the children and I would attend his ward. February 23, 1956 Colleen Diane was born. We had so much fun with her. We all enjoyed her. She loved to sing and perform for us and she would clap the hardest for us all and laugh and laugh. It was more fun to play with her than go to the movies. After school was out in May, Dean took a sabbatical leave from the Y and we rented our home and moved for a year and a half to Los Angeles and lived there while Dean finished his doctorate. Dean taught the Gospel Doctrine class in Adams Ward and I was in the Primary Presidency. Being a Mormon and being called to church positions is a wonderful way to meet people and feel so at home no matter where you are! Dean went to school all week but Saturdays we set as special days for the family to do things together. We would go to the beach and swim often, look up special friends in that area and visit them. We saved up and went to Disneyland. Janet and Max met us and we all went together. It was really fun and special. We returned to Orem in the Fall of 1957. Dean was called to be in the BYU Third Stake Presidency under President Noble Waite. I took the children part of the time to Dean's Stake but mostly we stayed in our own ward. In 1959 we started to build a new home. We had purchased a lot in the Evening Glow subdivision in Northeast Provo. We loved the home we were in very much. Dean used the plans for it with some variations. December 2, 1959 Sonja Yvonne was born. She was so beautiful - blond with blue eyes like her dad. I was 43 years old. I knew she was my last baby and I was so glad we had her. We moved to our new home in October of 1960. It was so nice to be close to the Y again and in our very own brand new home. Dean was called as President of the BYU 5th Stake. I was called to the BYU 5th Stake Relief Society. Pete graduated from high school and went into the Army. I was devastated for a while because I wanted him to go on a mission first, but it turned out for the best this way. Pete returned home from the Army and started at the Y. He met a beautiful young girl, Jean Barnard, at the Y. She was not a Mormon. He was really getting serious with her when he was called on a mission to the Eastern States. He hesitated because he knew Jean would not wait for him. He had really tried to teach her the gospel and she was responding, that was a pull for him. However, he finally decided he would go on a mission. We loved receiving letters from Pete and feeling his growth in the church. We were so proud of him. Jeanie didn't wait for him, but she did join the church and marry in the temple which was a plus for Pete. I'm sure he knew he had been a good influence on her to join the church. I will always remember the day Pete walked back into our home after his mission. We knew he was to be released but had not heard just when he would be coming home. He and one of the other elders drove a car home for someone and surprised us. Sonja refused to know him. To her he was a picture on our stereo. It was wonderful to have him home again. This was March of 1963. It was this same month that Dean was called as Mission President to Norway. Dean and I were set apart - Dean by President David O. McKay and I by Henry D. Moyle. They gave us permission to take our whole family on the mission with us. We were to leave in August. Janet Lynne graduated from BY High School. She was chosen Homecoming Queen and was so excited and happy. She was really a beautiful queen with her sparkling tiara and her blue velvet robe with white fur finery. I remember the last night of her reign - she came home from the dance. She kept the robe and tiara on and just sat and thought about the whole experience. Her comment finally was "I wish I could live it all over again." We left for Norway in August of 1963. It was so nice that the whole family could be a part of this exciting, challenging experience. We flew to New York City and stayed for three days at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. There were three or four other mission presidents and families there with us. Then we sailed on Cunnard's SS Queen Elizabeth - Sonja called it the "lisbeth boat." We were on the water for five days - beautiful days, luxurious living for us. We debarked at South Hampton, England and took a train to London where we stayed for a couple of days, and then flew to Oslo, Norway arriving September 5, 1963. President and Sister Gunderson met us. Joseph Gunderson had welcomed Dean as his junior companion when Dean had arrived in Norway on his first mission. We had been friends all through the years. It was nice to have them there to guide our steps the first few days - and then they left and Dean was in charge. Our new home was the Norwegian Mission Home at Drammensveien 96 G; four stories high, a circular stairway (which frightened me a little with my three-year-old Sonja). We had a lovely, gracious lady as housekeeper and cook. Her name was Johanna Nordtvedt. She is a special spirit and we love her with all our hearts. Dean called Arne Bakken as his first counselor. It had taken this man 20 years after marrying a Mormon girl to join the Church. He had been baptized into the Church six years before. A very dignified, beautiful man he is. and he was by Dean's side for the three years Dean was there helping, counseling, supporting Dean all the way. His wife, Elsie, is a four-generation Mormon and so strong in the Church. I learned to love her and we traveled together with our husbands and became very close. I was very grateful for her. Before calling his second counselor (who was at that time a missionary chosen because of his ability to lead and his spirituality), Dean wanted to meet the missionaries. So we toured the mission and interviewed, visited, and felt their "pulse." We learned of each missionary's feelings, desires, and spirit. It was really a choice time and we were truly impressed with these beautiful missionaries. We toured the Land of the Midnight Sun in all its beauty with lakes reflecting all the colors of fall, such clean, well-kept homes and streets, and beautiful fields being harvested. It was a time of awe- ing and oh- ing for us. The people loved Dean and he was delighted to have returned to his old missionfield. The people seemed pleased with our family - each of us trying to "fit in." Pete and Janet were called as local missionaries. Pete left Oslo and went out with a companion south of Oslo to a town called "Halden." He knew the gospel and was anxious and excited to teach, but had the challenge of learning the Norwegian language. Pete learned the language and the people loved him, and he, in his own way, "loved" people into the Church. Dean called Janet to work in the office as a typist and then his secretary. Susan and Dolores (Chuckie) started school at a Norwegian High School - not English. They really had some challenges, but they did very well and we were very proud of them. As time went on both of them were called to Church positions. Susan was called to be a counselor in the YWMIA. It was very difficult because of the language - it would have been a challenge at 16-17 in that position at home, in Norway it was almost too much - but she came through. Chuckie taught in the Primary. My heart went out to these sweet but strong children of ours. My compassion was very strong for them - and I was so proud to see them accept the calls. They were truly missionaries. I wished I could be as good and do as well as they. Colleen was seven and was put in a Norwegian elementary school. The first few weeks were very hard for her, but she too came through with flying colors. She learned the language like a native. She gave talks in church and did so well everyone was charmed. She had the special experience of being baptized in Norway and she felt like I did. She said "I want the whole world to come to my baptism." She was proud to be a Mormon. Sonja watched out the window of Dean's office each morning to see Sister Nordtvedt get off the street car and then she would run downstairs to meet her at the front door. These two were very close - almost like grandmother-granddaughter ties. Sister Nordtvedt was 65 years old and had so much love in her heart - especially for Sonja and Colleen. Sonja learned Norwegian too - very well. The missionaries, Sister Nortvedt and her little friends were good teachers. For me, the language was a little harder to learn, but I truly tried. I tried at first to have someone translate - but decided that it was difficult to keep my mind on what I was wanting to say. I wrote my talks, had them translated and memorized them. That was much easier for me. As I practiced the talks I had Sonja and Colleen listen and help me with pronunciations which they did, but once in a while Sonja would giggle and say "Mommie you sound so funny." I traveled with Dean a great deal, spoke at district conferences in my own faltering Norwegian. I found the people very receptive and helpful. If I stumbled on a word they would say it for me. They always encouraged and buoyed me up even when I felt I hadn't done as well as I had wanted. The family traveled with us for special meetings at the branches and would give talks and sing. Dean's father died the first Christmas we were in Norway - only four months after we left to come on our mission. I felt so sad for Dean. He loved his father a great deal - as did I. It was difficult for Mom Peterson. Early in 1964, Dean and I wrote to Mom and invited her to come and visit us. She and Aunt Lucile (Dean's father's sister) came to Norway. They stayed about three months. We took them wherever we traveled - Bergen, Stavanger, Trondheim, and around the Oslo branches. They loved Norway and it really helped Mom Peterson through a rough time. They went with us to the London Temple, too, which was a real treat for all of us. We took a group of Norwegians to the temple. One of the most beautiful experiences we had was to watch our saints and their families be sealed for eternity. The joy on the faces of the people as they knelt at the altar as families, and the knowledge that they can be together for always is beautiful to see. My mother came for a short visit also. It is so special to be able to share with our moms the feeling of the mission, and the love of the saints. It wa very nice to be with our moms in this beautiful land of Norway. It is a special joy to watch our family grow strong in the church, to see them as missionaries - even at the tender ages of our sonja And Colleen - hear them give talks and teach others. Sonja and Colleen would say to their friends, "We are going to Primary. Do you want to come?" And hear the friends after visiting the Primary classes say, "I can't wait to tell Mother and Daddy all that I've learned today." Yes, this was a growing time for all of us, and again a time of realizing that when we returned home we would try harder to be special children of God. How can one write of three full beautiful, yet challenging and difficult years and do them justice, really express how you truly feel with each new situation. Those three years were full of spiritual and beautiful experiences of love and happiness, some sadness crept in to remind us that life is not always easy. And then all too soon it was time to bid farewell to Norway and our friends there and return home to Provo. Shortly after we returned from Norway a chartered plane brought many of our dear friends from Norway for conference and a visit into our home, special assemblies at the BYU to share, dinners and visiting. It was really wonderful to see them in Utah. One of these visitors was a Brother Freidel and his wife. He was a historian and had written a history of the Norwagian Mission. I mentioned to him one day when he was here that some of my people came from Norway. He asked to see my genealogy sheets and when he saw the name of Svend Larsen he told me, "Your great great grandfather, Svend Larsen, brought the first Mormon missionary to the Land of Norway!" He was delighted and so was I. I learned also that I was born on Svend Larsen's birthday, January 26, which is also special to me. It was wonderful to be back home and have our family reunited. Pete and Janet Lynne had left Norway before we did to come back to the Y. I am always happiest when the family is together. Dean was called to the Sunday School General Board and was enjoying that very much when he was called to be President of the BYU 7th Stake. He called Lee Valentine and Paul Cheesman to be his counselors. The wives always have the friendship and love of each other in the closeness of the Stake Presidency and this was no exception. Amy Valentine and I had been friends since our BYU student days and I felt very close to her. And Millie Cheesman is a person that "to know is to love." I have felt very close to her ever since. We were called to work together in the Relief Society. It was really nice to work together. Some short months later, Lee Valentine was in an automobile accident and died. Such sadness! It was a real shock. It isn't easy sometimes that "life goes on." Dean called Gregory Austin as his counselor. And Elida became one of us, too. Shortly after we returned home, Duane Bunnell asked me to work for him at Deseret Travel as an agent. Dean felt it would be helpful both financially to us and as a good experience for me - to work and learn a profession. So I became a travel agent. It was enjoyable but it was a challenge. My older girls were in college and we tried to work our schedules so that Sonja and Colleeen were not alone too much for too long. In 1967 both Janet and Susan surprised us by becoming engaged. Janet had met Philip Brown again at some Norwegian missionary parties. Philip was released from the Norwegian Mission at the same time Pete was. We were delighted that he and Janet had fallen in love. Susan met Mark Breinholt shortly after returning from our mission. She was 19 years old and it surprised us that she had fallen in love so early. Mark had been on a stateside mission and was about to graduate from BYU. Philip and Mark hit it off well and the four of them really had fun planning a double reception. Susan and Mark were married in the Manti Temple on June 2 and then went on a short honeymoon. Philip and Janet were married June 9 at the Salt Lake Temple and the reception for all four of them was on the evening of the 9th. Janet and Susan had always been so close and it just seemed right that they should share a reception. It was fun, it was huge, and it was beautiful! Then it was Pete's turn. He met Colleen Keith at BYU and fell in love. It had taken Pete all this time to find the right girl. And Colleen is the right girl for Pete. She is lovely, beautiful (I love her dimples), and a very choice child of God. Pete and Colleen were married in the Salt Lake Temple on December 5, 1968. We love Colleen. They found an apartment in Orem and we were so glad they were close by. The Vietnam war came and both Mark and Philip enlisted. Mark joined first and went to Georgia for training and then Philip six months later and he and Janet went to Columbus, Georgia just about the time Mark and Susan went on to Kansas City. I went to Columbus to be with Janet when their little daughter, Neena, was born. Mark shipped out for Vietnam and he was there when Susan delivered with their first son, Bradley. Susan was staying with us while Mark was gone. Then Philip shipped out and Janet and Susan got an apartment and they lived together with their babies until Mark came home. Janet came to live with us until Philip came home. It was a busy household and time flew. We were so grateful to see those two beautiful men return well and unharmed. Dean was called to be a Mission Representative to Norway and a Regional Representative to St. George, Utah. Those were Dean's two favorite places. I traveled with Dean to Norway once a year - he went four times a year. I drove with Dean to St. George when he felt he wanted or needed my company. My life with Dean has been so full and beautiful. I am very proud of him. How blessed I am to be his wife. I love him so. I was called to be MIA Young Women's President in our Oakhills Ward. It is enjoyable to be back in the ward - new types of challenges. I'm really busy and learning at the travel agency. Chuckie graduated from BYU. she missed graduation with her high school class because of our Norwegian mission, and she felt she just must have a diploma. Dean and I are so very proud of her. Graduation time we had three in caps and gown: Dean as a professor and administrator, Pete with his Masters and Chuckie with her Bachelors. How very special. Chuckie received a teaching contract in the Murray School District. Dean and Chuckie are so close now. They can talk on the same professional level. I admire her because she is such a lady and so lovely. November 1, 1973 Chuckie married James Allan Brown in the Salt Lake Temple and their reception was held at the Lion House. It was so special and beautiful, like them. Jimmy is a brother to Philip and so for a second time we stood in line with Grant and Darlene Brown. They are very special people. We know they love our daughters as much as we love their sons. We really have close ties with the Browns. With my work in travel, I received certain privileges. I can take my family on cruises for one-fourth fare. For our vacation in May of 1975 Colleen, Sonja, Dean and I went on a cruise for a week to Mexico. It was so relaxing and fun. We all loved it. The beaches at Mazatlan and Puerta Vallerta and the ship were superb. That is the way to vacation! It was fantastic and we were so glad we could share this together. In 1975 after a family trip to Hawaii, I became a little frustrated with Duane and his mother, Mildred. I had worked for them for nine years, and they didn't even tell me that when I returned I would be located in a crowded corner of an already too full room and someone else at my desk. They could have explained and I would have understood, but they didn't. I gave Duane my two-week notice. Dean said he would really be happy if I could find a job at the Y, and then we could be together more. I was offered a job in the travel department at the Y the first of August which gave me a couple of months to relax and be at home. Then out of the clear blue sky I received a telephone call from Garry Beesley of Murdock Travel in Salt Lake. He said they were opening up an office in Provo and asked me if I would be interested in working for them. Of course, I was. Garry made an appointment with me and said he and Tom Murdock, the new manager for the Provo branch, would come and pick me up, take me to lunch and show me the location and office. It was very enticing, and of course, I accepted. I started training in the Salt Lake Office about the 15th of June, and then our office opened July 1, 1975. Tom, Marilyn and I were the only ones there. Marilyn was familiar with the missionary program and she helped teach me. I was there as a travel counselor. It was great. Tom was so relaxed and easy to like and work for. The benefits of the job were great, too. Duane didn't have any at all so it was a great improvement. A month or so after I started to work there, Janet Berryessa applied and started to work. she and I had worked together at Duane's and it was fun to be working together again. Marilyn went back to the Salt Lake office. Dean was so glad I was working for Murdocks. I was so much happier in my work then I had been for some time. He also had insisted that I go to Utah Tech and learn how to drive. He felt so strongly about it, that I did. He was so patient with me and took me to the classes and picked me up. It was really wonderful to be able to drive a car and be a little independent. When I received my drivers license, Dean took me to Salt Lake and bought a car for me - a used car but a nice one. It was a Lamans. In May of 1976, Dean, Sonie and I went on another cruise. Colleen was involved with Folkdancers at the Y and decided to stay and perform with them. Dean really didn't feel very well. We were in hopes that getting away from tensions and work he would perk up, but he felt lousy. Sonja and I did things together. It was a fun trip, but our luggage was lost which really took a little pleasure out of it and we felt bad that Dean had not enjoyed it. The last of May Dean was feeling so terrible. He had lost so much weight and was just not himself. I went on a couple of regional meetings with him, and I would look at him up on the stand and wonder how he could possibly have the strength to give the talks. But he did and with so much spirit and power and strength he amazed me. He went to an internist, Dr. Lyman Moody, for an exam. Dr. Moody told him that he was too heavy and needed to exercise more. The last day in June he worked at the Y all day and when he came home some friends of ours were here, Bus and Kay Anderson. We talked about how Dean felt and Kay said she thought he should go to a doctor. Dean said he didn't know who could help him. Kay called a cousin of hers who is also an internist in Salt Lake and made an appointment for the next day. His name is Dr. Alan MacFarlane. He was in a cllinic, and she felt a group of doctors should surely be able to find the problem. I went with Dean. He was given a thorough examination, tests, x-rays, and then sent to the hospital lab for liver and bone scans. While we were at the lab, Dr. MacFarlane called and told Dean to check into the hospital and he would come over later. All that Fourth of July weekend tests were run, and then we got the word. Dean had Cancer. We couldn't believe it. Dr. Moody had been so caught up in Dean's sugar diabetes which he's had for fifteen years or so, he looked no further. President Kimball came to the hospital and gave Dean a blessing. I was not in the hospital at the time and have felt a loss ever since. Dean said that President Kimball went right to his bed and embraced and kissed him. He told Dean what a special man Dean was, that the Lord loved him and was aware of his goodness and the fine life he had lived. He said, "the day of miracles is not over except for those who have no faith." He told Dean to have faith. What a special experience for Dean - for all of us. It gave us hope although he did not promise Dean would get well. Dean came home, but he didn't ever feel well enough to go back to work. We took him every week for chemotherapy in Salt Lake. He grew weaker and weaker. He had suffered so, and it was difficult for us to watch him dwindle away to nothing. October 1, 1976 we put Dean back in the hospital here in Provo. Dr. Dean Packer was kind enough to take his case. Dr. Packer told us he would live only three or four days longer. We called the family together. On the morning of October 4, about 6 a.m., Dean asked for Pete to come and give him a blessing and dedicate him to the Lord. I called Pete and all the family, and we stood by Dean's bed and Pete blessed his Dad and dedicated him to the Lord. Dean's amen was the strongest one voiced. It was but moments after that he died - October 4, 1976. I didn't cry much, I couldn't. I tried not to think. I only existed. I went through the days in a dream world. I was glad he didn't need to suffer any more, but I didn't want him to be gone. I loved this beautiful man so much. He and the children were my whole world - and now what? Somehow I had to go on. I was grateful I had Colleen and Sonja still at home to fill my thoughts. These two precious girls needed their father so much, and I had to somehow fill in for Dean as well as try to guide them. Dean and I were both very concerned for them and our constant prayers were that they would make the right decisions and realize how precious the gospel is and how important it can be in their lives. I was grateful I had my work. It kept me busy and my thoughts off myself. As much as I enjoyed my work, however, I thought many times that perhaps Colleen and Sonja would have felt closer to us if I had been at home more! Hindsight! How painful it is, and it makes me feel guilty and angry with myself. If I had not worked, would things have been different??? In 1977 a stake was organized in Norway. I took Colleen and Sonja to Norway for it. This was the first they had been back since we left in 1966. We visited so many of our friends. Of course, Sister Nordtvedt was one of the first Sonja and Colleen wanted to see. Colleen's school friend, Berit Ranum, was another. They had been so close. It was all so special to us. The conference was wonderful! I was impressed and happy with the leaders who were called to be in the stake prsidency, bishoprics, high council. Surprisingly (and yet not) it was mostly the young men who were called. How very special to see these young men become such stalwarts. We had seen some of them as teenagers growing up in the church, youth missionaries who had had some wonderful experiences side by side with the full-time missionaries who served under Dean. Now these were the fine young men called to the first stake in Norway. Some were converts who were very strong. Some were born in the church and had grown strong and steady in the gospel. This stake was something Dean and I had dreamed about, prayed for, encouraged and saints and missionaries to become strong for! I'm sure Dean was there and was as happy, proud and grateful as I. On September 17, 1977 Colleen and Craig Bennett were married at home. Dean's brother, Elden, who was a bishop in Bountiful, performed the marriage. Colleen and Craig had dated all through high school and were very much in love. Craig's family all helped get the yard ready for the reception. It was beautiful and the ceremony and reception were lovely. I feel sure that in time Colleen and Craig will be sealed in the temple. Both Dean and I were given promises in special blessings by Boyd Packer that all of our children will be with us eternally, that not one shall be lost. This is a promise I cling to. I know I must do my part, live close to the Lord, be a good example, and a teacher without pressure. I must gently, but firmly show them, lead them. It must be their own desire and decision. August 2, 1978 Sonja and Timothy Peay were also married at home. Again Elden officiated. It was a very beautiful ceremony and reception. However, it was difficult for me to have Sonja marry Tim because he was not a member of the LDS Church. Sonja and I have become even closer. We're friends and enjoy doing things together which I definitely need in my life. Although Colleen and Sonja were not married in the temple, Dean was promised in his blessing when he was set apart as a regional representative by Elder Boyd K. Packer and repeated in a blessing which Elder Packer gave to me after Dean's death, that "all of our children will be with us eternally and that not one shall be lost." Somehow Brother Packer's promise can and will be made possible if only I can be strong and humble enough. With my faith - and I acknowledge again my responsibility in fulfilling MY part - and with the Lord's help and with Dean holding my hand eternally, we will see it fulfilled. Sonja and Tim have had a struggle to stay together - finances mostly. Tim's job as derrick hand, driller - whatever, whenever - pays well but is insecure. He's in and out of work. Timothy Dean was born April 13, 1979 and Derrik James was born July 25, 1980. Derrik was tiny and had a rough time healthwise. Then when he was 11 months old he fell in a small plastic swimming pool and almost drown. What a sad, traumatic experience that was. I was at work when Sonja called me, her voice screaming into my ear, "He's dead. Mom please come. I don't know what to do!" I had clients, but I found someone to take them and I drove as fast as I could. Paramedics were working over Derrik - his tiny body so frail and lifeless. Sonja went in the ambulance with Derrik. I called Pete and then we drove to the hospital. The doctors and nurses worked on him for what seemed like an eternity. Dr. Steven Minton was his doctor. As the family all sat in one of the little waiting rooms at the emergency section of the hospital, Dr. Minton came in three times to let Sonja and Tim know what was being done, how Derrik was. Each time he said, "Derrik is dead - technically. We are waiting for when all signs of life are gone." Then he came in again and said, "Please don't get your hopes up, but there is a tiny spot of pink on his cheek. With your permission we will admit him to the intensive care ward and give him life lines and see if he responds." Derrik was in a coma for days. Max and Guy Berryessa gave him a blessing. Tim's priest also was there and prayed for him. Nurses and interns hovered over him. We waited and watched this tiny little quiet body. Not a move. But one thing for sure, he was given blessing after blessing. Every time we had to priesthood holders visiting at a time, he was blessed. One of the male nurses assigned to Derrik asked to bring his bishop and bless him. And then he moved - a finger, a toe - just a little. I spent as much time before going to work and after as I could at the hospital to spell sonja and Tim off so they could get some rest. I'll never forget the day Derrik opened his eyes and smiled. There were a few traumatic, frustrating things that took place. Tim's alertness saved Derrik one day as he sat by the bed. A nurse was going to put some medicine through one of the life lines. Tim stoped her and told her to check the line that it was the wrong one. She was indignant, but she did check. Tim was right. Had the medicine gone into the wrong line it could have been disastrous. Then Derrik was put in another section of the hospital for a few days and then released. Derrik is our miracle boy. He's now four years old and he is so quick it's hard to keep up with him. The stress was really hard on Sonja and Tim. they were burdened with such an overwhelming debt, they came to live with me. Tim's work took him away a good part of the time. Sonja was working at Elliot's Restaurant to try to help. Then she found work as a checker at Albertsons Supermarket. Recently Sonja and Tim found a home to buy. Now I am alone in my big house again. Early in 1984 Tim was injured on the oir rig where he was working. A heavy chain fell on his back and foot causing a broken pelvis, crushed foot, and damaged discs in his back. Because of the seriousness of the injuries he was unable to return to work. In 1980 Mother began having little heart attacks or strokes. She was going to the hospital every three months. She became so confused with each trip to the hospital. She was living with Bea. The children and I had tried to visit or have Mom visit here as often as possible. Bea called me finally and asked me to come down again. She asked me to consider putting Mom in a convalescent home. Bea put Mom in a Center that was more like a hospital. The doctors told Bea she wouldn't live more than a couple of weeks at the most. She was quite a distance from Bea and visits were weekly. We decided that we should bring mother to Utah and have her here - her home. I flew to California again and brought Mom with me. The California Convalescent Center would not release Mother to me unless I found a place here since her health was so fragile and she needed constant care. The flight was delayed, and we didn't get to Provo until too late to put Mother in the Central Utah Convalescent Center so Susan and I brought her home and watched over her the whole night long. Mom was so confused and wakeful, and we had a difficult time keeping her on the bed. The girls and I went every day to be with Mother. We would take turns holding her up and helping her walk up and down the corridors until she was strong enough to walk by herself. She responded to having family around her and seemed to have a will to live. We would bring her home on Saturdays and take her back on Sunday afternoons. On special holidays we had her with us. Christmas was fun. The whole family came home and it was special to have Mother with us. Then Mom fell and broke her hip and she was back in the hospital again. When she recovered from that she could not walk and the nurses would tie her in her bed or in a chair. She would try to get up, and we were afraid she would fall again. I bought her a wheelchair - the nicest, softest, most comfortable one I could find. She has to be tied in that, too, or she'd pull herself out of the chair. But she seems to be happiest when she is free to propell herself around the halls at the Center. She doesn't know us. She often calls me Sadie, her sister's name, so I am at least a part of the family in her very muddled existence. Bea was called on a mission to Houston, Texas, for one year and for a time I feared Mother would be gone before Bea came home. But Bea has returned and Mother is still alive. These past two years have been so hard for me to see her unable to walk, or do anything really. Mother was such an independent, busy person, always on the go. I have tried bringing her home every weekend, then every other, then just on Sundays. But it has become too difficult to try to carry her in and out of the house, or pull the wheelchair up my steps to get in the house, only to take her back again. There seems to be little purpose since she is happier where she has more room to go. So now that has stopped. We see her as often as we can, but not for long. It's usually just for a kiss, a squeeze and an "I love you," and then a hurried departure with tears and a feeling of not being able to quite cope with a hard situation. Mom celebrated her 93rd birthday March 10, 1984. Pete and Colleen, Janet Lynne and some of her children and I went out to be with her. We took presents, a cake, a birthday bouquet of flowers and balloons. but she wasn't really with us. she's lived such a good life. I often wonder what holds her here. Is it fear? Maybe of what she'll find when she leaves? Will Daddy be there to welcome her with open arms? I know Tom will be. Mother is the only member of her famiy still living so her famiy will be there to welcome her. But until that strong little heart of hers stops beating, I'll try to let her feel my love and concern for her. I am 67 years old and I retired from Murdock Travel on September 1, 1984. Since retiring I have finished enbroidering a Norwegian Telemark bunad (national costume). In October I flew to Europe and took the bunad to a Telemark bunad shop to be sewn together. It has taken two years to complete this costume. It is beautiful and I am very proud of it. I feel happy and fulfilled to have completed this project. It means so much and ties into Dean's and my sweet memories of Norway. The girls and I have just had our pictures taken in the bunad. It is special, not just for me, but for all of my family - an heirloom. I want all of my children to enjoy it. I have 29 (soon 30) grandchildren: Erlend and Colleen have six children: Kristin, Sheri, Deborah, Deanne, Rebecca, and finally a boy, Andrew Erlend Peterson - the one little grandson to carry on the Peterson name. Janet and Philip have six children: Neena, Kari, Michael, Helene, Paul and Steven. Susan and Mark have eight children: Bradley, Stephen, Charles, Emily, Aimee, Kenneth, Rebecca, and Elizabeth. Dolores and Jim have four boys: Scott, Sam, Mark and Peter. Colleen and Craig have two little girls: Amber and Megan (and another child on the way). Sonja and Tim have three children: Timothy, Derrik and Desiree. Since Dean died I have been teaching in the ward Relief Society. I taught the Social Relations lessons for two or three years, the Mother Education for a couple of years, and then the Spiritual Living lessons. I know I have learned more than anyone else during this teaching time and have loved having the challenge and opportunity. As I reflect on my life I have two major treasures - my family and my religion. My life is still full and as happy as it can be without Dean. I think about Dean a great deal and our lives together. Dean always wanted me right by him. He made me feel so loved and close. I still feel that way - like I can reach out and he will take my hand. We had a beautiful life together. Our family is choice and beautiful. Each child is very special. They are my whole life. I have such a need to know that they are well and happy. No two people could have had more joy and fulfillment from their family than Dean and I. I love being with my family and seeing them together. They love being together, working, playing, taking on projects, helping each other, gathering around the piano and singing, and just being happy. Where and when I can I want to be very much a part of that. My religion has been the very center of my life. It has been a guide, it has given me strength, it has given me peace of mind, it has given me answers to the unknown, it has given me joy and happiness, and, most of all, it has given me the promise of heavenly parents under whose love and direction I will be able to have my family forever. In addition to my expression of love to my children, I want them to know that I have a very strong testimony of the truthfulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that true happiness comes from living the principles of the Gospel. I hope and pray with all of my heart that each one of my children will find the same joy and knowledge which Dean and I have had in obeying our Father's teachings.

EXPERIENCES FROM THE LIFE OF LYLE EVANS - by Janet Peterson Brown

Contributor: davlanders Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

EXPERIENCES FROM THE LIFE OF LYLE EVANS One thing that affected her very much was that her parents were divorced when she was a young girl. She was eleven years old. She writes of that time: “There wasn’t anything I could do for Mom to help that ache in her heart - that hurt that I’m sure she had knowing Dad just walked out on us – wondering what she had done to deserve such agony. Her nightly sobs broke my heart. She was so lovely and sweet. WHY? WHY? I couldn’t understand why Daddy would do such a thing, but I love him so. She took her four children (ages 2 to 11) from Provo, Utah to Tehran, Iran alone [as her husband had to leave ahead of her], and then to Germany for six months during a political coup. She said, “Our experiences in Iran taught us many things: How much we love our country and the freedoms we have in America. How very much we take for granted everyday things like turning on a tap to get a drink of water and drinking it without worry of illness, eating foods without a thought of disinfecting for safeguard of health. How very nice it is to be home near family members and friends. How choice it is to go to conference (or even listen to it on the radio) and hear the General Authorities. How nice to go to church without first having to clear with the police. All these, and many more, had become very precious to us. These experiences had been very good for us because we were stronger for having had them.” When on their mission to Norway she said, “For me, the language was a little harder to learn, but I truly tried. I traveled with Dean a great deal, spoke at district conferences in my own faltering Norwegian. I found the people very receptive and helpful. If I stumbled on a word they would say it for me. They always encouraged and buoyed me up even when I felt I hadn’t done as well as I had wanted.” Lyle didn’t have a driver’s license until she was in her late 50s. Of that she said, “[Dean] insisted that I go to Utah Tech and learn how to drive. He felt so strongly about it, that I did. He was so patient with me and took me to the classes and picked me up. It was really wonderful to be able to drive a car and be a little independent. When I received my driver’s license, Dean took me to Salt Lake and bought a car for me – a used car but a nice one. It was a [Pontiac] Lamans.” What a blessing that was to her to be able to drive when just a short time later her husband was diagnosed with lung cancer and died. That was a great trial. She said, “I loved this beautiful man so much. He and the children were my whole world.” Early in her marriage she said, “I loved being a mother, keeping our apartment clean, and cooking.” And toward the end of her life she said, “I have two major treasures – my family and my religion. My life is still full and as happy as it can be without Dean. He made me feel so loved and close…. I love being with my family and seeing them together…. I have such a need to know that they are well and happy… I know that true happiness comes from living the principles of the Gospel.” She passed away October 18, 1995.

LYLE EVANS PETERSON - Autobiography

Contributor: jpgenealogy Created: 1 year ago Updated: 3 months ago

Lyle Evans Peterson I was born January 26, 1917 in Lehi, Utah County, Utah. Guy Evans was my father and Myrtle Jane Willes my mother. I have one sister, Bea Evans Bate, who is two and one half years older than I. My father was a farmer. His father, Morgan Evans, died at the age of 45 years. My father was the oldest and had to quit school and return home to the farm to help support his mother and run the farm with his three brothers. He was attending the University of Utah, was a basketball player, and a business management major. His father left a heavy debt and my father assumed that debt and helped pay it off. Later he went into banking. When I was three years old my dad opened the bank in Loa, Wayne County, Utah. My mother has always been a beautiful woman, and in my eyes as a child I remember looking up to her in childish awe. It has continued through the years. She has had a great deal of influence on my life. She has given me a beautiful example in her life of love, courage, strength of character, beauty. She is a lovely "lady" in the highest sense of the word. Let me tell you about my parents as I remember them as a child. My father was 5 feet 11 inches tall. He had blond curly hair and twinkling blue eyes. He was a jovial, happy man. He loved life and people. He loved to sing and had a beautiful tenor voice. I really don't remember too many times when my dad "disciplined" us girls. I do remember though that if he was unhappy or cross with us, his voice was the disciplining nature and it broke my heart if ever he was angry with us. I adored him, and I still do as I remember him with us. My mother was 5 feet 5 inches tall. She had long dark hair. (I remember when she wore it in a bob at the back of her neck and in the evening before retiring she would let it down and brush and brush it.) Her eyes are hazel - large and beautiful. She has always been slender, had a beautiful figure, and is erect! Even at 93 years she holds herself erectly. Mom sang, too, and I remember as we would travel in the car, she and Dad would sing - harmonize. One song I remember particularly was "Moonlight and Roses, bring wonderful memories of you." I suppose as long as I live "Moonlight and Roses" will bring all those sweet wonderful memories back to me. My mom baked her own bread. Dad loved it and on baking days Mom always tried to take the bread from the oven just about the time Dad came home from work. I'm sure that is why hot bread from the oven recaptures the picture of my Dad breaking open a round loaf (made especially for him), putting on the butter and honey and with our help would devour that special loaf. I remember when my dad came home from work at night, my mother would rush into his arms for a big hug and kiss, as would we girls. Regardless of what happened later, THAT is the picture I will remember of my mother and father - a happy, warm, loving couple. We lived in Lehi until I was three years old. My memories - I think, are things Mother and Dad told me about, not too much remembering that they happened - are of a lovely little cottage with flowers and grass surrounding it and a large walnut tree in front shading it from the sun, visits to Grandmother Evans' home in town, singing for Aunt Edith while she played a ukulele. Christmas trees at Grandma Evans' were beautiful with hundreds of shimmering icicles hanging straight and beautifully from every branch of the tree. I do remember visits to Grandma and Grandpa Willes' farm and the cookies. We loved to watch the ducks and geese, help Grandma churn the butter, and play on the buggies and wagons. I loved to sit on the white bear rug in front of Grandma and Grandpa's bed, look at pictures, and play. When I was three we moved to Loa, Wayne County, Utah. I remember a dear friend who lived just over the fence from us, Ramona Webster. She was such a special friend to me. The Callahan's owned the hotel. I remember their son, Sterling. He could walk on his hands, and I thought that was fantastic. Our home was just a block away from the large hotel - the only hotel in town. One night I was awakened by loud voices, yelling and crying. I opened my eyes to see, through the transom window in the door, fire! I screamed and Mother and Dad rushed in to see what was wrong. Dad opened the door and we could see the hotel was on fire. We put on robes and slippers and walked through the field as close as we dared and watched as the people tried to put the fire out. For a long time afterward I would wake up crying because a ball of fire was chasing me and I couldn't run fast enough. I was very frightened. Out in our front yard Dad built two swings, a teeter-totter, and a slide. It was a fun place to be and our friends would come over and be with us close by where Mom could watch us. Dad had business to attend to in Salt Lake City occasionally. Bea and I would usually go with Mom and Dad, but I remember one time they left us with friends, Doc and Leah Nelson. Doc was the only doctor in Loa. They didn't have any children, but they had a little bulldog named Jiggs. Leah made coats and sweaters for Jiggs and trained him to bark once for "please" and twice for "thank you." He was a smart little dog. My eighth birthday came while Mom and Dad were gone. I remember the fun party Leah gave me. It was really beautiful and lots of fun. Bea and I went to church and the Bishop announced that anyone who had turned eight should be baptized the next Saturday and said when and where. My sister Bea was always a good little manager and she made sure that I was at the right place at the right time with white clothes and I was baptized. My how surprised Mom and Dad were when they came home and found I had been baptized a new member of the church. Bea has always been very efficient and dependable. Dad and Leo Bown from Provo became partners in a purchase of a ranch. It was called the Boulder Ranch. We spent our summers at the ranch. Bea and I had such fun riding horses. We had our own horse. We called her Star. She was beautiful. We also went hiking and camping out in the red hills. Emma and Leo Bown had three children that I remember. The boy was a little older than Bea. His name was Myron, but they called him Bud. The two girls were EmmaLee and Alice. We had other ups and downs but mostly we had fun together. I remember one time Dad let Bea and me go with him and some of the men to round up some wild horses. I remember one special horse we rounded up. He was big and shiny black with a thick, beautiful mane. Dad also had a large German Shepherd dog named "Keno." He was a well-trained sheep and cattle dog. The ranch was a fun place for the kids. I know that Dad loved every minute of it. Mom's life, however, was a hard one. She and Mrs. Bown washed, cooked, and cleaned for twelve men besides their own families. Washing in those days was with scrubbing boards and big round tubs and hand ringers. I remember Grandmother Willes coming to visit us in Loa. She was a tiny white-haired English lady. In fact, as I look at my Mom right now I see Grandmother - tiny, frail, lovely. It was fun to hear Grandmother talk because she left off her "h's" and put them where they shouldn't be. Grandmother was partially deaf - as a child she had diphtheria and her hearing was affected. She carried a hearing tube. She would put one end in her ear and other end was used to speak into. Mother used to tell us she thought Grandmother could hear better than she let on because if Mother or her brothers and sisters said something smart or critical of others, Grandmother usually heard it. Mother would usually give Grandmother the darning bag when she visited to "keep her hands busy." She was very clever with her hands and handwork. I started school in Loa. Francis Callahan was my first grade teacher. We moved from Loa to Salt Lake City when I was in second grade. Dad went to work for Central Trust Company as a banker and stock and bond salesman. I don't know the details, but my Dad lost the ranch and all his equity in it because of a dishonest deal by the man who was supposed to "buy" it. Our first home in Salt Lake City was an apartment house - the Meredith Apartments located on First Avenue almost to A Street. Can you imagine Bea and me in a four-room apartment after having a ranch to roam? Our landlady called us "wild Indians" and I'm sure we were. I remember skating down the steep driveway by the apartments. We'd go faster and faster and I'm sure squeal with delight (our delight, the tenants dismay). We lived on the first floor. We could open our front window and climb outside with ease. Poor mother. I'm sure it must have been very hard for her to try to contain us, quiet us, yet keep us happy. The Meredith Apartments had a stairway from the south side of the apartments down to South Temple Street. Bea and I would often go down those long, steep stairs to the public library on State Street. Mom and Dad encouraged us to read and helped us to love reading. We would get books every week and spend hours reading. I still love to read. We were members of the 18th Ward. Bea and I attended the Lafayette School. School was fun. The principal was a lady, Miss Ferris. She was a twin to the lady at the public library. They were both tall, prim, strict, but very nice. It was at Lafayette School that I became aware of boys. They were such teases and would chase me. My sister, Bea, became my guardian. I'm sure Mom and Dad would say to Bea, "Take care of Lyle," and Bea did. I can remember boys teasing, pulling my hair, and Bea scolding and threatening them. Then the boys would yell at Bea and me, "There goes Maggie and her hard-boiled sister." I was "dearie" to Bea. She was sweet to me. One cold, snowy winter morning Bea and I were going to school. We were on State Street and Canyon Road. We were running. I didn't see a car coming. The driver tried to stop and couldn't. The bumper of the car hit me knocking me down, and the car ran over me. I wasn't hurt, but I do remember I had on a new red cape Mother had made for me and it was well greased. I was bruised and frightened, and I was crying. The driver pulled me out from under the car. Bea was crying. He carried me to the school to tell Miss Ferris what had happened and that he was taking me home. He took Bea and me into the apartment house. Bea showed him which apartment. When she opened the door and Mother came running to us, the man said in a loud voice, "Lady, I ran over your little girl." Grandmother Willes' sister, Aunt Annie, was with Mother. She was a practical nurse. She examined me and found only bruises on my back where the impact of the car hit me. The man left after apologizing and saying he was sorry over and over. I was loved and given assurance. I was put warmly and comfortably on the couch with pillows and blankets. I snuggled down and slept or listened to Mom and Aunt Annie talk. Mom said that night as I said my prayers my words went like this: "Heavenly Father, bless me that I'm not dead." I had learned a lesson of how precious life is and the lesson of gratitude. On Sundays after church, Dad would take us for a ride up the east part of the city where there were so many beautiful homes. We would drive slowly and gaze at each home seeing what we liked or didn't - window shopping so to speak. Dad would often buy Cummings Chocolates and we loved it - driving, looking, and savoring each bite of chocolates. Then one day Mom and Dad chose a little bungalow on Sherman Avenue almost to 15th East. We moved there. I was nine years old. We attended the Uintah School and went to the Wasatch Ward. I loved it there. Close friends of Mom and Dad's, Herbert and Edna Taylor, lived near by. They had a daughter, Glenda. She was a lovely girl and very talented. She could do art work beautifully. I'll always remember the beautiful paper dolls and clothes she made. She also played the piano very well. We had fun together. My memories of the Sherman Avenue home are very special. Having lots of friends in the neighborhood, playing "run sheepy run," "statue," "Annie I over," hearing happy voices, feeling love and sweetness in the home, going to church together - just sweet warm memories of home, family and the special things you dream about, being loved and wanted. It was in that house I remember Mother's hot bread with butter and honey, Mom's loving greetings when Dad came home from work, Dad mowing the lawn and his happy whistling or singing as he worked. It was also the house in which one of the saddest things happened to us as a family. The Christmas before I turned twelve was one of the saddest in my life. Daddy always brought a Christmas tree home two days before Christmas. We would trim the tree on Christmas Eve as a family. It was always such a happy time for us. Dad brought home the tree as usual, but Christmas Eve Daddy didn't come home. We waited and waited and no Dad. Finally Mother said, "Come on, we'll trim the tree and surprise Daddy." So we did, but we cried a little because we missed Daddy's happy, cheerful person taking charge. Mom was worried. We were disappointed. Mom put us to bed. When Daddy did finally get home I remember for the first time in our home harsh voices, unkind words, Mother crying, Daddy angry. I really don't remember that Christmas Day, but from then until the middle of January our lives were very different. We were to move. Mom drove us to our schools - the new ones we were to attend. Daddy and Mother had found an apartment, the Roberta Apartments on South Temple and Fifth East, to live in. Daddy didn't live with us after that. Until we moved into the apartment, Mom would take us to school and then come and get us after school. I was in seventh grade. I remember to this day the first day when Mother drove me to school, waved good-bye tearfully, and drove off. I stood by a tree in front of the school watching the other children playing ball, hopscotch, etc. I felt so alone and frightened. A lovely, tall, slender girl came over to me and introduced herself to me. Her name was Alleen Warner. She was so nice to me, and I did need a friend so much at that moment. She had blonde hair, lovely big hazel eyes, and a very warm "I care" way. Alleen and I have been close friends all through the years. The day we moved from our home Dad took us out to eat at a restaurant in Sugar House. We ate and then we parted ways. Dad went his way and we went to our little apartment. It was a small apartment. There was one bedroom and the front room. It had a "murphy bed" you pull down each night. Bea and I slept on the murphy bed and Mom slept in the bedroom. That first while I would wake up to hear Mother crying. There wasn't anything I could do for Mom to help that ache in her heart. That hurt that I'm sure she had knowing Dad just walked out on us - wondering what she had done to deserve such agony. Her nightly sobs broke my heart. She was so lovely and sweet. WHY? WHY? I couldn't understand why Daddy would do such a thing, but I love him so and I'm sure I was (and perhaps still am) defensive for him. But, of course, at the same time I was hurt that he would desert us. I'm not sure anyone really explained to me why it happened. Through the years I have come to feel that Daddy was so distraught (and I suppose) almost desperate because of his losses of money and properties, he felt he had to get on top somehow. He decided he was going to make money some way. He'd known debt before, and I'm sure it wasn't easy to pay back Grandpa's debts and then try to overcome all these losses, too. He said he didn't want to hurt Mom or drag her through more misery. He was not going to be discreet nor did he care what people would think of him. He just wanted to get back his losses. He just didn't want Mother to suffer. Didn't he know she suffered MORE AS A DISCARDED WIFE than she would have trying to help him work through more money worries?!!! Mother went to LSD Business College to take shorthand and typing to prepare herself to get work. I went on to Bryant Junior High School. I worked in the lunchroom as a cashier for my lunch. I have my report cards for the two years I was at Bryant Junior High - straight "A's." Mother got a job at ZCMI. Bea was going to East High School. Somehow we were surviving. I graduated from Bryant, Bea from East. I went to East High and Bea to the University of Utah. Bea and I were dating, sometimes double dating together and that was fun. In spite of being without Dad, we found a lot of fun things to do together. We were in the 20th Ward. Mother worked in the Relief Society. She was a counselor to Sister McConkie. On special days, Mom would take Bea and me to Hotel Utah to eat, or the ZCMI Tearoom. We saw Daddy once in a while. He would take us girls to a show or dinner occasionally. Then Dad came to see Mother and ask her for a divorce. They had been separated five years. Of course, she went ahead with the divorce. She felt so degraded, so embarrassed to be a divorcee. She still loved him although he had hurt her so. Finances became a little tight. We moved again. This time to the Piccadilly Apartments just around the corner from the Roberta. It was a basement apartment and not so expensive. I got a part-time job at Kresses. I baby-sat and I also sat in a doctor's apartment to take calls. I was going steady with a boy by the name of Melvin Peterson. We went to all of the Cadet Hops at the different high schools and had some really fun times. I graduated from East High School in 1934. I got a job at the State Banking Department liquidation division as a secretary. Daddy married again to a woman from Holland. Her name was Johanna Parleylet, we called her Joan. She was much younger than Daddy. Once or twice Daddy and Joan would take Bea and me to dinner or a show. Once Joan took Bea and me to lunch at ZCMI, and wouldn't you know it, we met Mother there. Mother had never met Joan. I introduced them very clumsily, "Mother, this is Daddy's wife." Oh me! One night about a year after Daddy and Joan had married, Mother got a call from Joan. It was really late at night, midnight or so as I remember. Joan said they were staying at the hotel in Burley, Idaho, and Daddy was very ill. He was asking for us. Would we come? Mother said of course we would come. We packed our bags in a hurry, climbed in the car and drove for hours and hours up to Burley. I'll never forget how long that ride took. Dad was in a coma when we finally arrived. We wanted so much to have him open his eyes if only for a moment and tell us he loved us. He didn't. He died that night -- hours later. It was a long wait and Mom was the one who sat patiently by his bedside waiting, hoping, and then he was gone. Daddy was 45 years old when he died - March 30, 1935. I was 18 years old. Bea was 20. He didn't even know we had come. The funeral, arranged by Joan, of course, was in Salt Lake City. I can still see my Dad lying in his dark suit in the coffin and how shocked I was to see the dark suit. All I had ever seen up to then was white. It seemed so final. Mother and Daddy were married in the temple and the divorce had been only a civil divorce - not a temple divorce. My mother is still sealed to Daddy and I cling to that very much. We moved again to a smaller, less expensive apartment still in the same neighborhood. I loved my job at the Banking Department. Mother was still at ZCMI. She was head of the Dress Department and in charge of fashion shows. I was one of her models a couple of times, and it was fun. Mother met Thomas Bailey, a business man, from Nephi, Utah. He was 22 years older than Mother, but he was a good man. He was kind, and he loved Mother. He proposed to her and she accepted. They were married for time only in the Manti Temple. Tom really wanted her to get a temple divorce and be sealed to him eternally. He gave Mother a home, security and love. Things she needed very much. I could understand her needing and wanting the security. I like Tom. He was kind to me, but I had reservations and heartaches of my own kind over the marriage. It is really difficult to have someone else married to your mother. I was young, and now I know my feelings were very selfish ones, but natural ones. They lived in Salt Lake City for a while. Tom had a home in Nephi and a business. Mom so wanted to stay in Salt Lake for our sakes, I'm sure. Tom had three children. Ray was his only son. He was married to Mary Romney and they had two little girls, Trenna was only ten years younger than Mother. Felma was the youngest. Felma was dating Ralph Chase, a charming nice fellow who worked for Tom. My sister Bea graduated from the University of Utah and was offered a job teaching, but instead she married Earl Bate. Earl was a red-headed, freckled faced, fun-loving, dare devil type of fellow. He had a motorcycle. He was a policeman for a while and then he learned to fly airplanes and that became his profession. He was the head controller of air traffic. Bea had always been a quiet person and I think Earl helped her release some of the inner tensions. Earl was a member of the Mormon Church but not active. Bea became inactive. They moved to Ogden for a while and then on to California. So there I was: 18 years old, my father gone, my mom was married again and now my sister was married. I decided it was time for me to get away from home. I decided I should go to college. A friend of mine had interested me in Brigham Young University. Mother and Tom thought it would be great. I found an apartment with five other girls in the basement of a home on 600 North and 200 East in Provo. It was only three or four blocks from the University Hill - halfway between the Upper Campus and the Lower Campus. I found a job as a BYU telephone operator to help me with expenses. That first year at BYU was a happy one. I loved the Y. There was so much to do. I went to all of the games, lyceums, matinee dances and other activities. I made a lot of friends. The year went fast. I was going out with some really nice fellows. Wayne Rogers and I had met before I came to the Y, and I liked him a lot. He was in drama and had leads in many of the university plays. Linc Garner was a sports person. He played basketball for the Y and he loved to box. Avard Rigby was a fun person to be with. Linc and Avard were really good friends. I joined a "social unit" named LAVADIS. We planned some nice social dances, parties, etc. It was at BYU that I met Dean Peterson. I was a freshman. He was a junior. He was a tall, slender, nice looking fellow. He was blonde with blue eyes. He played in an orchestra, the Y band, and with a dance band. He also worked at the BYU Library. He always asked me to dance at the matinee dances and was often at the MIA dances and asked me. At the end of his junior year, he and Wayne Rogers ran against each other for Student Body President. Wayne was the winner, and Dean was elected to be Senior Class President. Mother and Tom had moved to Nephi. During the summer months I lived with them and got a job as secretary to P.N. Anderson, an attorney-at-law. My sophomore year I lived at a small home on 100 East between 600 and 700 North. Dean and I started to go together quite frequently. Dean was 6 feet 1 inches tall, blonde, and a returned missionary from Norway. His home was in Mt. Pleasant, Utah. His father was a bishop. He had been a banker most of his life. Dean's mother had brown hair, blue eyes, and was very reserved. She was unhappy that Dean and I were getting serious. She had already picked out the girl Dean should marry. He had dated her for some time before his mission, and she was a Mt. Pleasant girl. Dean had one sister, Rhoda, married to Hans Reed Christensen, a professor and farmer. They lived in Ephraim. They had two children, Jay and Nedra. He also had two brothers, Elden and Wayne, both younger than him. Elden attended BYU and I had been on a date or two with him. Wayne was about five years younger than me. I liked them both and enjoyed being with them. Dean graduated from BYU in 1938. He got a teaching job at North Sanpete High. His brother Wayne was in his classes. He taught commercial subjects. During the summer months I lived in Nephi with Mom and Tom. Dean would come over on the weekends to see me. Nephi was just half an hour's drive from Mt. Pleasant. Dean worked at the Pea Viner that summer and his hours were long and hard, but we did see each other. My junior year, 1938-39, I went back to the same home to live. It was lonesome at the Y without Dean there, but we wrote and saw each other as often as we could. I was in love and it was the real thing. There was a professor at the Y who taught night classes and gave lectures in Sanpete. Sometimes I would ride down to Mt. Pleasant with him and visit with Dean and then drive back after the classes. It was so special and gave Dean and me more time to be together. Mother really loved Dean and trusted him explicitly. Tom approved, too. In the middle of my junior year I got a strep throat and was quite ill. I was out of school too long and lost out on the classes I was taking so I discontinued. I got a job in Salt Lake City with the Kathern Yergensen Teaching Agency. It put Dean and me further apart in distance, but he would drive up to Salt Lake whenever he could find time. The summer of 1939 Dean went to Los Angeles to start his masters degree at the University of Southern California. I was invited in June of that year to travel with my mother's sister, Aunt Eva, and her husband, Uncle Dave Wangsgaard, and their daughter, Genee. Genee and I had always been close and Aunt Eva thought Genee would be happier on the trip if she had someone with her. We drove to Calgary, Canada; Banff; and Lake Louise. It was so beautiful. We stayed a few days in that area and then drove down the coast to California, stopping at our convenience and pleasure and where we could find motels at good rates. It was a wonderful experience and the first opportunity I had had to travel outside of Utah. Uncle Dave and Aunt Eva were both teachers (Uncle Dave, really a school superintendent) and were to attend school for a couple of weeks in Berkeley, California. Genee and I wandered the city window-shopping or doing whatever we felt like. We swam and read. I remember the fresh boysenberry tarts we'd buy and eat as we walked. It was a special time for me. When their schooling was over we drove on to Los Angeles and stayed a few days there. Now THAT was the destination I'd looked forward to (the "frosting on the cake" so to speak) because Dean was there and I was to see him. Uncle Dave teased me the entire trip because I would slyly tell him he must be going north not south and much too slowly, and he'd tease me about being just too anxious to see Dean. Dean proposed to me under a banyan tree in front of the house where he was living. "Let's get married, Butch (his pet name for me) - Will you marry me?" and I answered a little flippantly because we'd gone these rounds before, "Sure, honey, right now?" Many times he'd said let's get married to me in a "sometime, someday" way to let me know he loved me and marriage was at the end of the rainbow. We knew we couldn't get married while he was living in California. So I really didn't think it was a proposal for real. He wrote to me after I had gone and said "I mean it, will you?" It reassured me of his love and I knew when he came home in July (this was June) somehow things would work out. Dean called me as soon as he arrived in Mt. Pleasant. He had an offer - a contract to sign to teach at Dixie Jr. College in St. George, Utah. It was a definite offer that he would accept if I would marry him, and we would make our home in St. George. Of course, I said yes and Dean brought his parents over to Nephi to meet Mother and Tom and set the date. We set it for August 28, 1939! Dean's grandparents wanted to meet me so I went to Mt. Pleasant to meet them. Peter and Celeste Peterson were two of the sweetest people I'd ever met. I remember as Dean took me over to meet them they were sitting on the glider swing in the shade of a large lilac bush in the front yard of Dean's parent's home. Grandma took my hand, held it with both of her hands, and patted my hand as she talked. She said they had waited a long time for Dean to find the right girl, and they were so glad he finally had found me. Dean was 26 and I was 22. Mother and I were in a whirl the following month. We went to Salt Lake City to choose a wedding dress and wardrobe. There were wedding showers and all the preparations for the wedding. It was a happy time. Dean and I were married in the Manti Temple by President Robert Young, the Temple President, and we had our reception in Nephi. Mother really put her heart into it. She loved Dean and was truly happy for us. It was a beautiful reception and so many people came from all over. When the reception line broke, the orchestra played the Wedding Song, and Dean and I danced all alone on the floor. Then others joined in. Dean's father loaned us his car and we drove to Provo that night after the reception and stayed at the Roberts Hotel. It was the only hotel at that time in Provo. We went on to Yellowstone Park for our honeymoon. We stayed in a little log cabin. It had one room with a coal stove to heat it. Dean made the fire each morning until the last morning. We traveled all over Yellowstone seeing the geysers and all the sights and just enjoying being together. The last morning we were there Dean said it was my turn to get up and make the fire. Of course, I thought he was teasing. But he wasn't. You see, I had never had to make a fire in my entire life. I didn't know how, nor did I think this was a very good time to learn. I can't remember what was said, but a fire didn't get made at all. I got up, dressed, and helped pack the car. All this was done with complete silence! Our first "fight." We climbed in the car and drove for miles before we decided it was pretty silly to be mad any longer over such a small item. We kissed and then everything was all right again. (I'm still a lousy fire maker.) St. George was a charming place to live. Our first apartment was a basement apartment under the movie theater right in the center of town a block from the college. Jack Wadsworth was our landlord. He was a huge man but very nice. He owned the movie theater and would let us go to the show once in a while for free. Our bishop was 25 years old - very young in those days to be a bishop. He owned the bakery right next door to our apartment house. He was always bringing us treats from the bakery - donuts, potato chips, and sweet rolls. Bishop Andrew McArthur and his wife, Myrle, were really sweet to Dean and me. School was about to start and there were steak fries, parties, and meetings so we met all the faculty members and their companions. We loved it. We made friends with the older students, too. The weather was great - much warmer than Utah County. The first year went by quickly and happily. The summer of 1940 Dean and I went to Los Angeles for Dean to go on with his masters degree studies. I got a job at the University as a thesis typist to help with expenses. I was expecting our first baby. In some of my spare time while Dean was at school I found a little knit shop. I bought some yarn and they showed me how to knit. That was the beginning of one of my favorite hobbies. We went back to St. George in the fall for another year at Dixie Jr. College. The baby's arrival was to be the 24th of December. Dean's parents came down to St. George for Thanksgiving. It was November 24, 1940. We had a good dinner and were playing a game of Rook when my pains started. Little Pete was born that day. He was a month pre-mature, a little less than five pounds, tiny, but so beautiful to us. I stayed in the hospital ten days. That was the magical time allotted for new mothers. Little Pete really didn't want to eat. We had to pry his little jaws open before he would take hold. There was the cutest English nurse there taking care of us. One day she was helping get Pete to eat and she said, "Petah, if you want to be a big man like your fathah, you bettah eat your suppah!" Dr. Reichert was our doctor. He was so nice. His office was just across the street. He was always available and willing. Mother came to St. George to be with me and help. It was so nice to have her there. World War II began in 1940. Dean's draft call was #3 but because I was with child he was deferred for the time. Many of our friends were called up, drafted, and had to go to war. I loved being a mother, keeping our apartment clean, and cooking. By the time Pete was six months old he was a chubby, darling baby, and he really thrived in spite of the "old wives' tale" that few 8-month babies survive. I guess you hear everything when you are in the circumstances and worry when you hear these things. You become more fearful. I had almost lost Pete when I was three months pregnant and when he was born Dr. Reichert told us it was a miracle that either the baby or I survived. The human body is wonderful, and the Lord knew how very much we needed to keep our son. Dean was offered a teaching job at Weber Jr. College in Ogden for the 1941-42 school year. We moved to Ogden. We found a really nice duplex apartment. My college friend, Dorothy McGuire, had married Johnny Carlton, and they were living in Ogden. We really enjoyed cooking dinners for each other, going to dances, and shows. It's always so much more special when you have close friends to share. It was 1941 when Tom (Mom's husband) became very ill with cancer. He was in the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City. Mother stayed right by his side for the many weeks he was ill. He died at the hospital about four months later. It was sad to see mother alone again. Dean and I traveled back and forth to Mt. Pleasant and Nephi on the weekends. Dean signed his contract with Weber for another year and we were planning to return. Little Pete (we named him Erlend Dean, but he still is called Pete) was such fun. He loved his Dad so and would watch for him to come home after work. When he saw him he'd get the evening paper (that was one of the first things Dean looked for), run and sit in Dean's favorite chair, open the paper (most of the time it would be upside down) and he would pretend to read when his Dad came in. Dean would swoop Pete and paper up and fall into the chair to hug and hold his boy and read his paper. It was always so much joy to watch them together. Toward the end of the school year Dean was offered a job at BYU. We went in to see President Dixon, President of Weber College, to ask for a release from Dean's contract. President Dixon was very kind. Dean and I moved to Provo. One of the men who had recommended Dean for the job, Evan Croft, had a basement apartment in his home. We moved into it. Dean loved the Y and so did I. It was like coming home to both of us. We had wanted to come to the Y to teach. It was a dream fulfilled. While we were living in the Croft apartment I miscarried with a little boy at 5 months. It was the fall of 1942. We moved from the Croft home to Muhlestein Apartments on 800 North and 700 East. It was a three-room apartment. We loved it. It was right under the University Hill, close to Dean's work. I enjoyed being in a sunny light place after the dark basement apartment. It was while we were there that I was asked to teach in the 9th Ward Primary. Ariel Ballif was our bishop. Dean was called to be a counselor in the Stake MIA. We were busy and happy and little Pete was really thriving. President Franklin S. Harris was the president of BYU. Besides teaching, Dean was Assistant to the President. Dean was so organized and a perfectionist. He really enjoyed his work. I was happy. Dean was always so kind and sweet to me. He was a good husband and a good father to little Pete. Christmas of 1943 I was expecting. I was seven months pregnant. We had been visiting in Mt. Pleasant with Dean's family and on December 27th we drove over to Nephi to be with Mother for the rest of our vacation time before going back to school. When we arrived in Nephi I was miserable. I was having very severe pains. We called Dr. Don C. Merrill in Provo and he said to come on to Provo and check in at the hospital. He would meet us there. He was there waiting when we arrived. It was a long hard delivery. The cord was short and they were afraid it was wrapped around the baby's neck. Our little girl (Karen Deanne) was born that day, December 27, 1943. She was put in an incubator and I was not even allowed to get up to see her. She lived five days. New Year's morning about 5 a.m. a grim, unsympathetic nurse waked me up to tell me my baby had expired. I asked them to call Dean, but they waited until a "decent" hour, 8 a.m., to let him know our baby had died. I refused to stay longer in the hospital. I was home in bed when Grandma Peterson brought little Pete home to us. How good it was to have that boy in my arms. Dean made arrangements to buy our first piece of land - a burial plot. We had a graveside service. Before the service they brought little Karen in her casket for me to see. I hadn't even had a chance to hold her. She was a beautiful little girl with lots of dark hair. She had a dimple in her chin. She was very tiny. Dean and his Dad had blessed her and given her a name. It was in the fall of 1943 that Mother moved to Provo and became a dorm mother at BYU at the Knight Mangum Hall and then later at Amanda Knight Hall. Dr. Wesley P. Lloyd interviewed her. We were so happy to have her closer to us. Knight Mangum Hall was a new dorm - so new that not all the doors were in. One hundred and fifty girls in a dorm that needed one hundred and one things to finish it Somehow Mother pulled through that. Dr. Amos N. Merrill asked me to take blessings he gave (patriarchal blessings) and type them up for him. I was doing this at the time I lost little Karen Deanne. Dr. Merrill gave me a special blessing so I could have more family. This was the second baby I had lost since having Pete. We were wanting a baby so much and it just seemed that we were not to be blessed with more children. The blessing was a great comfort to me. I was a member of BYU Women's Organization, a counselor to Irva Andrus. I was a member of Bonheur, a social club with other BYU wives. I was in the Stake Primary Presidency. Edna Terry was the president. I met many wonderful people and had some very spiritual and beautiful experiences. April 26, 1945, I gave birth to a baby girl, Janet Lynne. She was such a choice beautiful experience for us. She was chubby and beautiful. She was serious for most everyone but her family. She was such a miracle to us. We were so baby hungry and she fulfilled all we needed. Pete was almost five years old by that time and as delighted as he was to have a little sister, his "nose was out of joint" a little since he didn't get ALL of our attention. April 19, 1947, Susan Kay was born. She had a lot of dark curly hair and was always happy. It was wonderful to have two girls together. They were blessed as friends as well as sisters. They still feel that closeness these many years later. Janet would always want Susan to go where ever she went - hand in hand. I would watch these two and think a little of Bea and me and how she watched after me. In 1948 we bought a lot, and Dean and some of our friends bought temporary buildings that had been built during the war, dissembled them and built us a little garage house on our lot. We planted a peach tree. I remember the first peaches on the tree. They were so good and big. We bought some little baby chickens to raise, kill and freeze. Pete was devastated to think we would kill them. He had become so attached to them he just didn't understand. We bought him a cocker spaniel dog which helped. How he loved that dog. July 29, 1949, Dolores Ann was born. What a darling curly headed blonde she was. I had just got her home and had to go back to the hospital for an operation. She was the only bottle-fed baby I had, but she thrived. Janet Lynn was four years old in 1949 when she was hit by an automobile. She and a group of children were "following the mailman." There was a house being constructed and the lady behind the wheel didn't see Janet as she ran out in the street. One of the neighbors came rushing in to me to tell me and I was glad my mother was there with me. Someone had called an ambulance and I climbed in with her and we went to Dr. Don C. Merrill's office. She had a broken leg. Dr. Merrill put her leg in a cast and gave us some little crutches to use. She was the hit of the neighborhood. I mean, every child in the area had to walk with the aid of her crutches and sign her cast. It was also a good lesson for all of them to be careful when they crossed the street. She had her cast for six months. It was a bad break In 1951 we received a call from President Franklin S. Harris who was in Salt Lake City to recruit people to go to Iran. He was country director in Iran for the Point Four Program. They wanted people from BYU for Education, University of Utah for Health Program - preventative as well as medical doctors, and from Utah State University in Logan for Agriculture. We were excited about the program. We went up to see President Harris at the Hotel Utah and after a briefing we decided to go. Others who were going were Max and Janet Berryessa, Glen and Marge Gagen, and Reed and Shirley Bradford. We began to meet together to make plans for our new adventure. We'd be gone for two years. We had some Iranian students who were at the Y come and talk to us. This was at the first of the year - February or March of 1951. The contracts were government but through BYU. We were thoroughly investigated, the contracts were hanging on a lot of government red tape, and it all took time. August or September was the projected time of leaving. In August we shipped all the clothes, washing machine, etc. we would be taking to Iran. All very necessary things. The day the big truck came to take our things Janet Lynne became ill with nausea and a terrible headache. Dr. Merrill watched her overnight and then we took her to the hospital. It was diagnosed as polio. Then, because there were no iron lungs at the Utah Valley Hospital, she was transferred to the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake. The doctor called us and said the ambulance would leave the hospital in 15 minutes. We were to follow the ambulance. What a ride that was. We could see the lights go on in the ambulance and the doctors and nurses attending to Janet time and again. It was a long old ride and an anxious one. When we got to 33rd South the ambulance turned on its lights and siren and sped ahead and we lost it. When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor who was to take over was waiting for us for our signature for a tracheotomy. Her lungs were ready to collapse. It was touch and go for weeks. It was so hard to see our little Janet in an iron lung, but how grateful we were she had made it - only minutes until paralysis took over. She had both bulbar (lungs were paralyzed) and spinal. She was paralyzed all down her left side. Dean and I drove to Salt Lake every day to see her. When there was an emergency they would let us put on white gowns and masks and go in to see her. It was so frightening to go to the hospital and see a red flag by her name on the register. When she was all right we would stand outside her window where she could see us and we her. The other children went with us when they could be outside and see her. Janet developed pneumonia after she had been there a few weeks, and we thought we would lose her. There was one sweet nurse that night who stayed for a double shift to stand by Janet. She said her big brown eyes pleaded with her and she couldn't leave. What a blessing she was to us and our little Janet. We had her name in every temple, and our prayers were joined by all our families and friends. She was given a blessing by David O. McKay. She was given other blessings, too. She was given a lot of tender loving care. Then she was out of the iron lung. When the tube had been removed from her trachea, she learned how to breathe on her own again. We were given permission to take her home. It was so wonderful to have her home again, but at the same time she was far from well enough to go to Iran. The contracts were signed and plans made for departures for everyone. Dean and I prayed about it and decided to go talk to a General Authority about taking Janet so far away from doctors and home when she had been so ill. Ezra Taft Benson was the one who was available when we went to the Church Office Building. He listened to us and then said, "Yes, go. It doesn't matter where you live. If you live the best you can, keep the commandments of the Lord, pay your tithes, etc. the Lord will bless you." So the day after we brought Janet home, Dean left for Washington D.C. He was to drive to Washington, ship his car with the others (they were going by ship), and fly to Iran. The children and I stayed in Provo in our little garage home to wait out Janet's recovery before we joined Dean in Iran. A few days after Dean left, Janet fevered to 106 degrees. I couldn't get her fever down. In the middle of the night I was so frightened and felt so alone, I called my next door neighbor, Afton Porter, and she came over and sat with me by Janet's bedside until about 5 a.m. I called Dr. Merrill and he put her back in the hospital with a kidney infection and pneumonia. I tried to get in touch with Dean but couldn't. I had this one by myself. A week later Janet came home again and from then on was much better. It was two and a half months after that we found a renter for our little house, packed and moved out. Mother took us to the Hotel Utah for the night and then to the airport the next morning. Wayne and Mother were the ones to wave good-bye to us as we flew from Salt Lake City for our trip halfway around the world. "Gird up your loins, fresh courage take," were words that fit the occasion. Here I was flying for the first time and four precious children in my care, but the "drive" to get where Dean was foremost in my heart and mind. Pete was ten, Janet was six, Susan was four, and Chuckie was two. We flew out early in the morning to Chicago, changed planes and flew to New York. In those days we had to fly to Idlewilde Airport and go by bus to the International flights. We had a traumatic experience with the bus driver over the fact that we should have had passes to go on the bus and no one had told me. I was not about the get off that bus with my four children just to get the passes. I finally said, "Is there no way other than getting off the bus?" "Sure," he said, "Pay me." I said, "Why didn't you say that's all I had to do. How much?" The whole bus load was cheering me on. I paid and away we went. We had a ten hour wait at the international airport as it was. The children were fantastically good for me. We all got tired and were grateful when the time came for us to board our flight. We arrived in Paris the next day. With four children and me so untraveled, I didn't dare leave the airport. Again we waited for the late evening flight out. We had games, puzzles, coloring books, etc. to keep us busy, and a book to read. We loved reading together. We were flying first class so were the first ones to board the plane. From Paris we flew to Beirut, Lebanon. We had a three or four hour wait there and then on to Tehran. As we got off the plane we saw Dean on the other side of the wall. We knew he was there and we were going to be together. President Harris went with us through customs before we could get to Dean. Susan kept pulling on my skirt and asking, "Don't you want to see Daddy? He's just outside. Come on, Mama, let's go see Daddy." But then we were finally out hugging Dean - a family again - halfway around the world, but we were together again. Dean had borrowed a car and he took us through the city showing us all the sights and then up to the Darban Hotel. All of the Utah people who were in Teheran were at the hotel and out to greet us. This was to be our home for a couple of months. It was really nice. It was fun to meet the U of U people and the USU people who were to be almost like "family" for our stay there. We finally found a nice brick home about ten miles from the city in a little place called Tajrish. About five of the Utah families were in that area - Petersons, Ballards, Milligans, Roskelleys and Berryessas. Our home had a swimming pool. It was so neat. We had a gardener, and his little 17-year-old wife was a maid for a while but really didn't know how to clean. She was dishonest and stole (as we found many of them did). Pete went to an international school, where 26 nationalities were represented. I taught the girls with the CALVERT SYSTEM. It was kind of fun. We had school each morning. President Harris had been called and set apart as a branch president when he was in Utah recruiting and so all of us in Teheran were put to work. I taught a Beehive class in MIA to the 3 or 4 girls. Dean was in the branch presidency. As a family we did things together. We had to make our own entertainment, and we were closer as a family than ever before. It was so fantastic when we had fast meeting to hear the young children stand and bear their testimonies. In 1952 there was a political cou'e that made it dangerous for us to stay in Iran. The American government suggested that those of us with families leave the country. With four children they told me if we needed to evacuate, Dean would be the last to get out. They would have to take the women and children first. Janet Berryessa had gone, as had some of the other wives and children. The children and I were to go to Europe and wait for the country to be safer. Dean went with us as far as the Holyland. We took a tour, and even though we knew we were going to have to part soon, we enjoyed being in the Holyland walking where Jesus walked. We prayed sincerely that the time for us to be apart again would not be for long. Dean took us to our plane and waved good-bye. It was more frightening now than at home. We felt very much alone. The children and I flew to Switzerland and Dean flew back to Iran. The government had promised us if we waited in Europe until the trouble was over, we could return to Iran. We flew to Zurich and then took a train to Bern where some of the other families had gone. It was especially beautiful to us after being in Iran where there is very little foliage. But it was lonesome without Dean. Trying to keep the children quiet and happy in the hotel was impossible so after a week or so, the children and I took the train to Frankfurt and a taxi to Herkxt where Janet Berryessa and her two children were staying with her sister Helen and family. Helen and Dave put us up for a night or two and then took me out looking for a Pension (which was like a boarding house at home). We found one in Bad Soden, a few miles from Herkxt. We went to the military branch of our church. Dave and Helen were very kind to me and went out of their way to pick us up for church and bring us home. I don't know what we would have done without them. We enjoyed our stay in Bad Soden. There was a dear little shop just a block from our Pension that had porcelain figurines and beautiful gifts. I loved the little Hummels especially. It was cold that winter in Germany. the humidity factor had a lot to do with how cold it was. Janet was ill off and on and we worried about her. We bought the warmest coats and caps we could find for the children. I was so proud of Pete. He was so dependable and good to help. He went to school in Frankfurt, an American school. He had to take the train to Herkxt, change to another train to Frankfurt, and then a bus to his school. My how trusting I was to let him venture out like that, but he proved that he could do it. Janet and I met often and shopped or had lunch. How nice to have friends like Janet and Helen and Dave. Dean and Max Berryessa came over in January to see us and then flew back to Iran. It was March of 1953. We were told we could return to Iran so the Berryessas and the Petersons flew back to be with our husbands and daddies. We signed a contract to stay another year. We lived in the same area we had before but a different house. One day our little Susan, who was not yet six, tried to push a door which was half glass window to open it. The paint was sticky and the door refused to open. Susan had pushed against the window part and the glass shattered and her arm was badly cut. Dean was there, thank goodness, and knew how to put on a tourniquet which he did and we lived just a ways from a nurse's house. Pete stayed with Janet and Chuckie while we ran with Susan to the nurse's home for her to check the arm first and then we drove to Teheran to the Army hospital. It was a while before the doctor came in to us. He was amazed at the length of the cut - her wrist almost to her elbow. He was so cute with Susan and he took many stitches to sew that arm up. On our return Pete informed us that everything was going to be all right. He and the girls had prayed together and received the assurance that Susan would be fine. We were grateful that Pete had known what to do. We had needed that prayer very much. Our experiences in Iran taught us many things: How much we love our country and the freedoms we have in America. How very much we take for grated everyday things like turning on a tap to get a drink of water and drinking it without worry of illness, eating foods without a thought of disinfecting for safeguard of health. How very nice it is to be home near family members and friends. How nice to be near the temple where we can attend whenever possible. How choice it is to go to conference (or even listen to it on the radio) and hear the General Authorities. How nice to go to church without first having to clear with the police. All these, and many more, had become very precious to us. These experiences had been very good for us because we were stronger for having had them. We returned to Utah after a stop in Norway - a promised visit to Norway from Dean. His gift to us. It was so beautiful and wonderful to meet his special people. Mother and Mom Peterson met us in New York. We picked up a brand new car, a Pontiac, which we had ordered before leaving Iran. We drove home, visiting, singing, seeing our country with new eyes, loving our Moms more for having not seen them for three years! It was 1955. We shopped for a house. We found one in Orem, Utah. We rented our garage home and moved into our new home at 526 East 400 North. It was a lovely home. Dean taught the Gospel Doctrine class. I taught in Primary. Then Dean was put in the High Council and I was called to be president of the ward MIA for the Young Women. I was just beginning to really enjoy it when I was called to be Stake YWMIA President. That one was a real challenge, but a beautiful experience. We loved our home and our neighbors. The children were happy in school. Life was good to us. Dean was called to be a Bishop on the BYU Campus. That really filled his time. And he was making so many trips back and forth. And I was still Stake YWMIA President. But once in a while the children and I would attend his ward. February 23, 1956 Colleen Diane was born. We had so much fun with her. We all enjoyed her. She loved to sing and perform for us and she would clap the hardest for us all and laugh and laugh. It was more fun to play with her than go to the movies. After school was out in May, Dean took a sabbatical leave from the Y and we rented our home and moved for a year and a half to Los Angeles and lived there while Dean finished his doctorate. Dean taught the Gospel Doctrine class in Adams Ward and I was in the Primary Presidency. Being a Mormon and being called to church positions is a wonderful way to meet people and feel so at home no matter where you are! Dean went to school all week but Saturdays we set as special days for the family to do things together. We would go to the beach and swim often, look up special friends in that area and visit them. We saved up and went to Disneyland. Janet and Max met us and we all went together. It was really fun and special. We returned to Orem in the Fall of 1957. Dean was called to be in the BYU Third Stake Presidency under President Noble Waite. I took the children part of the time to Dean's Stake but mostly we stayed in our own ward. In 1959 we started to build a new home. We had purchased a lot in the Evening Glow subdivision in Northeast Provo. We loved the home we were in very much. Dean used the plans for it with some variations. December 2, 1959 Sonja Yvonne was born. She was so beautiful - blond with blue eyes like her dad. I was 43 years old. I knew she was my last baby and I was so glad we had her. We moved to our new home in October of 1960. It was so nice to be close to the Y again and in our very own brand new home. Dean was called as President of the BYU 5th Stake. I was called to the BYU 5th Stake Relief Society. Pete graduated from high school and went into the Army. I was devastated for a while because I wanted him to go on a mission first, but it turned out for the best this way. Pete returned home from the Army and started at the Y. He met a beautiful young girl, Jean Barnard, at the Y. She was not a Mormon. He was really getting serious with her when he was called on a mission to the Eastern States. He hesitated because he knew Jean would not wait for him. He had really tried to teach her the gospel and she was responding, that was a pull for him. However, he finally decided he would go on a mission. We loved receiving letters from Pete and feeling his growth in the church. We were so proud of him. Jeanie didn't wait for him, but she did join the church and marry in the temple which was a plus for Pete. I'm sure he knew he had been a good influence on her to join the church. I will always remember the day Pete walked back into our home after his mission. We knew he was to be released but had not heard just when he would be coming home. He and one of the other elders drove a car home for someone and surprised us. Sonja refused to know him. To her he was a picture on our stereo. It was wonderful to have him home again. This was March of 1963. It was this same month that Dean was called as Mission President to Norway. Dean and I were set apart - Dean by President David O. McKay and I by Henry D. Moyle. They gave us permission to take our whole family on the mission with us. We were to leave in August. Janet Lynne graduated from BY High School. She was chosen Homecoming Queen and was so excited and happy. She was really a beautiful queen with her sparkling tiara and her blue velvet robe with white fur finery. I remember the last night of her reign - she came home from the dance. She kept the robe and tiara on and just sat and thought about the whole experience. Her comment finally was "I wish I could live it all over again." We left for Norway in August of 1963. It was so nice that the whole family could be a part of this exciting, challenging experience. We flew to New York City and stayed for three days at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. There were three or four other mission presidents and families there with us. Then we sailed on Cunnard's SS Queen Elizabeth - Sonja called it the "lisbeth boat." We were on the water for five days - beautiful days, luxurious living for us. We debarked at South Hampton, England and took a train to London where we stayed for a couple of days, and then flew to Oslo, Norway arriving September 5, 1963. President and Sister Gunderson met us. Joseph Gunderson had welcomed Dean as his junior companion when Dean had arrived in Norway on his first mission. We had been friends all through the years. It was nice to have them there to guide our steps the first few days - and then they left and Dean was in charge. Our new home was the Norwegian Mission Home at Drammensveien 96 G; four stories high, a circular stairway (which frightened me a little with my three-year-old Sonja). We had a lovely, gracious lady as housekeeper and cook. Her name was Johanna Nordtvedt. She is a special spirit and we love her with all our hearts. Dean called Arne Bakken as his first counselor. It had taken this man 20 years after marrying a Mormon girl to join the Church. He had been baptized into the Church six years before. A very dignified, beautiful man he is. and he was by Dean's side for the three years Dean was there helping, counseling, supporting Dean all the way. His wife, Elsie, is a four-generation Mormon and so strong in the Church. I learned to love her and we traveled together with our husbands and became very close. I was very grateful for her. Before calling his second counselor (who was at that time a missionary chosen because of his ability to lead and his spirituality), Dean wanted to meet the missionaries. So we toured the mission and interviewed, visited, and felt their "pulse." We learned of each missionary's feelings, desires, and spirit. It was really a choice time and we were truly impressed with these beautiful missionaries. We toured the Land of the Midnight Sun in all its beauty with lakes reflecting all the colors of fall, such clean, well-kept homes and streets, and beautiful fields being harvested. It was a time of awe- ing and oh- ing for us. The people loved Dean and he was delighted to have returned to his old missionfield. The people seemed pleased with our family - each of us trying to "fit in." Pete and Janet were called as local missionaries. Pete left Oslo and went out with a companion south of Oslo to a town called "Halden." He knew the gospel and was anxious and excited to teach, but had the challenge of learning the Norwegian language. Pete learned the language and the people loved him, and he, in his own way, "loved" people into the Church. Dean called Janet to work in the office as a typist and then his secretary. Susan and Dolores (Chuckie) started school at a Norwegian High School - not English. They really had some challenges, but they did very well and we were very proud of them. As time went on both of them were called to Church positions. Susan was called to be a counselor in the YWMIA. It was very difficult because of the language - it would have been a challenge at 16-17 in that position at home, in Norway it was almost too much - but she came through. Chuckie taught in the Primary. My heart went out to these sweet but strong children of ours. My compassion was very strong for them - and I was so proud to see them accept the calls. They were truly missionaries. I wished I could be as good and do as well as they. Colleen was seven and was put in a Norwegian elementary school. The first few weeks were very hard for her, but she too came through with flying colors. She learned the language like a native. She gave talks in church and did so well everyone was charmed. She had the special experience of being baptized in Norway and she felt like I did. She said "I want the whole world to come to my baptism." She was proud to be a Mormon. Sonja watched out the window of Dean's office each morning to see Sister Nordtvedt get off the street car and then she would run downstairs to meet her at the front door. These two were very close - almost like grandmother-granddaughter ties. Sister Nordtvedt was 65 years old and had so much love in her heart - especially for Sonja and Colleen. Sonja learned Norwegian too - very well. The missionaries, Sister Nortvedt and her little friends were good teachers. For me, the language was a little harder to learn, but I truly tried. I tried at first to have someone translate - but decided that it was difficult to keep my mind on what I was wanting to say. I wrote my talks, had them translated and memorized them. That was much easier for me. As I practiced the talks I had Sonja and Colleen listen and help me with pronunciations which they did, but once in a while Sonja would giggle and say "Mommie you sound so funny." I traveled with Dean a great deal, spoke at district conferences in my own faltering Norwegian. I found the people very receptive and helpful. If I stumbled on a word they would say it for me. They always encouraged and buoyed me up even when I felt I hadn't done as well as I had wanted. The family traveled with us for special meetings at the branches and would give talks and sing. Dean's father died the first Christmas we were in Norway - only four months after we left to come on our mission. I felt so sad for Dean. He loved his father a great deal - as did I. It was difficult for Mom Peterson. Early in 1964, Dean and I wrote to Mom and invited her to come and visit us. She and Aunt Lucile (Dean's father's sister) came to Norway. They stayed about three months. We took them wherever we traveled - Bergen, Stavanger, Trondheim, and around the Oslo branches. They loved Norway and it really helped Mom Peterson through a rough time. They went with us to the London Temple, too, which was a real treat for all of us. We took a group of Norwegians to the temple. One of the most beautiful experiences we had was to watch our saints and their families be sealed for eternity. The joy on the faces of the people as they knelt at the altar as families, and the knowledge that they can be together for always is beautiful to see. My mother came for a short visit also. It is so special to be able to share with our moms the feeling of the mission, and the love of the saints. It wa very nice to be with our moms in this beautiful land of Norway. It is a special joy to watch our family grow strong in the church, to see them as missionaries - even at the tender ages of our sonja And Colleen - hear them give talks and teach others. Sonja and Colleen would say to their friends, "We are going to Primary. Do you want to come?" And hear the friends after visiting the Primary classes say, "I can't wait to tell Mother and Daddy all that I've learned today." Yes, this was a growing time for all of us, and again a time of realizing that when we returned home we would try harder to be special children of God. How can one write of three full beautiful, yet challenging and difficult years and do them justice, really express how you truly feel with each new situation. Those three years were full of spiritual and beautiful experiences of love and happiness, some sadness crept in to remind us that life is not always easy. And then all too soon it was time to bid farewell to Norway and our friends there and return home to Provo. Shortly after we returned from Norway a chartered plane brought many of our dear friends from Norway for conference and a visit into our home, special assemblies at the BYU to share, dinners and visiting. It was really wonderful to see them in Utah. One of these visitors was a Brother Freidel and his wife. He was a historian and had written a history of the Norwagian Mission. I mentioned to him one day when he was here that some of my people came from Norway. He asked to see my genealogy sheets and when he saw the name of Svend Larsen he told me, "Your great great grandfather, Svend Larsen, brought the first Mormon missionary to the Land of Norway!" He was delighted and so was I. I learned also that I was born on Svend Larsen's birthday, January 26, which is also special to me. It was wonderful to be back home and have our family reunited. Pete and Janet Lynne had left Norway before we did to come back to the Y. I am always happiest when the family is together. Dean was called to the Sunday School General Board and was enjoying that very much when he was called to be President of the BYU 7th Stake. He called Lee Valentine and Paul Cheesman to be his counselors. The wives always have the friendship and love of each other in the closeness of the Stake Presidency and this was no exception. Amy Valentine and I had been friends since our BYU student days and I felt very close to her. And Millie Cheesman is a person that "to know is to love." I have felt very close to her ever since. We were called to work together in the Relief Society. It was really nice to work together. Some short months later, Lee Valentine was in an automobile accident and died. Such sadness! It was a real shock. It isn't easy sometimes that "life goes on." Dean called Gregory Austin as his counselor. And Elida became one of us, too. Shortly after we returned home, Duane Bunnell asked me to work for him at Deseret Travel as an agent. Dean felt it would be helpful both financially to us and as a good experience for me - to work and learn a profession. So I became a travel agent. It was enjoyable but it was a challenge. My older girls were in college and we tried to work our schedules so that Sonja and Colleeen were not alone too much for too long. In 1967 both Janet and Susan surprised us by becoming engaged. Janet had met Philip Brown again at some Norwegian missionary parties. Philip was released from the Norwegian Mission at the same time Pete was. We were delighted that he and Janet had fallen in love. Susan met Mark Breinholt shortly after returning from our mission. She was 19 years old and it surprised us that she had fallen in love so early. Mark had been on a stateside mission and was about to graduate from BYU. Philip and Mark hit it off well and the four of them really had fun planning a double reception. Susan and Mark were married in the Manti Temple on June 2 and then went on a short honeymoon. Philip and Janet were married June 9 at the Salt Lake Temple and the reception for all four of them was on the evening of the 9th. Janet and Susan had always been so close and it just seemed right that they should share a reception. It was fun, it was huge, and it was beautiful! Then it was Pete's turn. He met Colleen Keith at BYU and fell in love. It had taken Pete all this time to find the right girl. And Colleen is the right girl for Pete. She is lovely, beautiful (I love her dimples), and a very choice child of God. Pete and Colleen were married in the Salt Lake Temple on December 5, 1968. We love Colleen. They found an apartment in Orem and we were so glad they were close by. The Vietnam war came and both Mark and Philip enlisted. Mark joined first and went to Georgia for training and then Philip six months later and he and Janet went to Columbus, Georgia just about the time Mark and Susan went on to Kansas City. I went to Columbus to be with Janet when their little daughter, Neena, was born. Mark shipped out for Vietnam and he was there when Susan delivered with their first son, Bradley. Susan was staying with us while Mark was gone. Then Philip shipped out and Janet and Susan got an apartment and they lived together with their babies until Mark came home. Janet came to live with us until Philip came home. It was a busy household and time flew. We were so grateful to see those two beautiful men return well and unharmed. Dean was called to be a Mission Representative to Norway and a Regional Representative to St. George, Utah. Those were Dean's two favorite places. I traveled with Dean to Norway once a year - he went four times a year. I drove with Dean to St. George when he felt he wanted or needed my company. My life with Dean has been so full and beautiful. I am very proud of him. How blessed I am to be his wife. I love him so. I was called to be MIA Young Women's President in our Oakhills Ward. It is enjoyable to be back in the ward - new types of challenges. I'm really busy and learning at the travel agency. Chuckie graduated from BYU. she missed graduation with her high school class because of our Norwegian mission, and she felt she just must have a diploma. Dean and I are so very proud of her. Graduation time we had three in caps and gown: Dean as a professor and administrator, Pete with his Masters and Chuckie with her Bachelors. How very special. Chuckie received a teaching contract in the Murray School District. Dean and Chuckie are so close now. They can talk on the same professional level. I admire her because she is such a lady and so lovely. November 1, 1973 Chuckie married James Allan Brown in the Salt Lake Temple and their reception was held at the Lion House. It was so special and beautiful, like them. Jimmy is a brother to Philip and so for a second time we stood in line with Grant and Darlene Brown. They are very special people. We know they love our daughters as much as we love their sons. We really have close ties with the Browns. With my work in travel, I received certain privileges. I can take my family on cruises for one-fourth fare. For our vacation in May of 1975 Colleen, Sonja, Dean and I went on a cruise for a week to Mexico. It was so relaxing and fun. We all loved it. The beaches at Mazatlan and Puerta Vallerta and the ship were superb. That is the way to vacation! It was fantastic and we were so glad we could share this together. In 1975 after a family trip to Hawaii, I became a little frustrated with Duane and his mother, Mildred. I had worked for them for nine years, and they didn't even tell me that when I returned I would be located in a crowded corner of an already too full room and someone else at my desk. They could have explained and I would have understood, but they didn't. I gave Duane my two-week notice. Dean said he would really be happy if I could find a job at the Y, and then we could be together more. I was offered a job in the travel department at the Y the first of August which gave me a couple of months to relax and be at home. Then out of the clear blue sky I received a telephone call from Garry Beesley of Murdock Travel in Salt Lake. He said they were opening up an office in Provo and asked me if I would be interested in working for them. Of course, I was. Garry made an appointment with me and said he and Tom Murdock, the new manager for the Provo branch, would come and pick me up, take me to lunch and show me the location and office. It was very enticing, and of course, I accepted. I started training in the Salt Lake Office about the 15th of June, and then our office opened July 1, 1975. Tom, Marilyn and I were the only ones there. Marilyn was familiar with the missionary program and she helped teach me. I was there as a travel counselor. It was great. Tom was so relaxed and easy to like and work for. The benefits of the job were great, too. Duane didn't have any at all so it was a great improvement. A month or so after I started to work there, Janet Berryessa applied and started to work. she and I had worked together at Duane's and it was fun to be working together again. Marilyn went back to the Salt Lake office. Dean was so glad I was working for Murdocks. I was so much happier in my work then I had been for some time. He also had insisted that I go to Utah Tech and learn how to drive. He felt so strongly about it, that I did. He was so patient with me and took me to the classes and picked me up. It was really wonderful to be able to drive a car and be a little independent. When I received my drivers license, Dean took me to Salt Lake and bought a car for me - a used car but a nice one. It was a Lamans. In May of 1976, Dean, Sonie and I went on another cruise. Colleen was involved with Folkdancers at the Y and decided to stay and perform with them. Dean really didn't feel very well. We were in hopes that getting away from tensions and work he would perk up, but he felt lousy. Sonja and I did things together. It was a fun trip, but our luggage was lost which really took a little pleasure out of it and we felt bad that Dean had not enjoyed it. The last of May Dean was feeling so terrible. He had lost so much weight and was just not himself. I went on a couple of regional meetings with him, and I would look at him up on the stand and wonder how he could possibly have the strength to give the talks. But he did and with so much spirit and power and strength he amazed me. He went to an internist, Dr. Lyman Moody, for an exam. Dr. Moody told him that he was too heavy and needed to exercise more. The last day in June he worked at the Y all day and when he came home some friends of ours were here, Bus and Kay Anderson. We talked about how Dean felt and Kay said she thought he should go to a doctor. Dean said he didn't know who could help him. Kay called a cousin of hers who is also an internist in Salt Lake and made an appointment for the next day. His name is Dr. Alan MacFarlane. He was in a cllinic, and she felt a group of doctors should surely be able to find the problem. I went with Dean. He was given a thorough examination, tests, x-rays, and then sent to the hospital lab for liver and bone scans. While we were at the lab, Dr. MacFarlane called and told Dean to check into the hospital and he would come over later. All that Fourth of July weekend tests were run, and then we got the word. Dean had Cancer. We couldn't believe it. Dr. Moody had been so caught up in Dean's sugar diabetes which he's had for fifteen years or so, he looked no further. President Kimball came to the hospital and gave Dean a blessing. I was not in the hospital at the time and have felt a loss ever since. Dean said that President Kimball went right to his bed and embraced and kissed him. He told Dean what a special man Dean was, that the Lord loved him and was aware of his goodness and the fine life he had lived. He said, "the day of miracles is not over except for those who have no faith." He told Dean to have faith. What a special experience for Dean - for all of us. It gave us hope although he did not promise Dean would get well. Dean came home, but he didn't ever feel well enough to go back to work. We took him every week for chemotherapy in Salt Lake. He grew weaker and weaker. He had suffered so, and it was difficult for us to watch him dwindle away to nothing. October 1, 1976 we put Dean back in the hospital here in Provo. Dr. Dean Packer was kind enough to take his case. Dr. Packer told us he would live only three or four days longer. We called the family together. On the morning of October 4, about 6 a.m., Dean asked for Pete to come and give him a blessing and dedicate him to the Lord. I called Pete and all the family, and we stood by Dean's bed and Pete blessed his Dad and dedicated him to the Lord. Dean's amen was the strongest one voiced. It was but moments after that he died - October 4, 1976. I didn't cry much, I couldn't. I tried not to think. I only existed. I went through the days in a dream world. I was glad he didn't need to suffer any more, but I didn't want him to be gone. I loved this beautiful man so much. He and the children were my whole world - and now what? Somehow I had to go on. I was grateful I had Colleen and Sonja still at home to fill my thoughts. These two precious girls needed their father so much, and I had to somehow fill in for Dean as well as try to guide them. Dean and I were both very concerned for them and our constant prayers were that they would make the right decisions and realize how precious the gospel is and how important it can be in their lives. I was grateful I had my work. It kept me busy and my thoughts off myself. As much as I enjoyed my work, however, I thought many times that perhaps Colleen and Sonja would have felt closer to us if I had been at home more! Hindsight! How painful it is, and it makes me feel guilty and angry with myself. If I had not worked, would things have been different??? In 1977 a stake was organized in Norway. I took Colleen and Sonja to Norway for it. This was the first they had been back since we left in 1966. We visited so many of our friends. Of course, Sister Nordtvedt was one of the first Sonja and Colleen wanted to see. Colleen's school friend, Berit Ranum, was another. They had been so close. It was all so special to us. The conference was wonderful! I was impressed and happy with the leaders who were called to be in the stake prsidency, bishoprics, high council. Surprisingly (and yet not) it was mostly the young men who were called. How very special to see these young men become such stalwarts. We had seen some of them as teenagers growing up in the church, youth missionaries who had had some wonderful experiences side by side with the full-time missionaries who served under Dean. Now these were the fine young men called to the first stake in Norway. Some were converts who were very strong. Some were born in the church and had grown strong and steady in the gospel. This stake was something Dean and I had dreamed about, prayed for, encouraged and saints and missionaries to become strong for! I'm sure Dean was there and was as happy, proud and grateful as I. On September 17, 1977 Colleen and Craig Bennett were married at home. Dean's brother, Elden, who was a bishop in Bountiful, performed the marriage. Colleen and Craig had dated all through high school and were very much in love. Craig's family all helped get the yard ready for the reception. It was beautiful and the ceremony and reception were lovely. I feel sure that in time Colleen and Craig will be sealed in the temple. Both Dean and I were given promises in special blessings by Boyd Packer that all of our children will be with us eternally, that not one shall be lost. This is a promise I cling to. I know I must do my part, live close to the Lord, be a good example, and a teacher without pressure. I must gently, but firmly show them, lead them. It must be their own desire and decision. August 2, 1978 Sonja and Timothy Peay were also married at home. Again Elden officiated. It was a very beautiful ceremony and reception. However, it was difficult for me to have Sonja marry Tim because he was not a member of the LDS Church. Sonja and I have become even closer. We're friends and enjoy doing things together which I definitely need in my life. Although Colleen and Sonja were not married in the temple, Dean was promised in his blessing when he was set apart as a regional representative by Elder Boyd K. Packer and repeated in a blessing which Elder Packer gave to me after Dean's death, that "all of our children will be with us eternally and that not one shall be lost." Somehow Brother Packer's promise can and will be made possible if only I can be strong and humble enough. With my faith - and I acknowledge again my responsibility in fulfilling MY part - and with the Lord's help and with Dean holding my hand eternally, we will see it fulfilled. Sonja and Tim have had a struggle to stay together - finances mostly. Tim's job as derrick hand, driller - whatever, whenever - pays well but is insecure. He's in and out of work. Timothy Dean was born April 13, 1979 and Derrik James was born July 25, 1980. Derrik was tiny and had a rough time healthwise. Then when he was 11 months old he fell in a small plastic swimming pool and almost drown. What a sad, traumatic experience that was. I was at work when Sonja called me, her voice screaming into my ear, "He's dead. Mom please come. I don't know what to do!" I had clients, but I found someone to take them and I drove as fast as I could. Paramedics were working over Derrik - his tiny body so frail and lifeless. Sonja went in the ambulance with Derrik. I called Pete and then we drove to the hospital. The doctors and nurses worked on him for what seemed like an eternity. Dr. Steven Minton was his doctor. As the family all sat in one of the little waiting rooms at the emergency section of the hospital, Dr. Minton came in three times to let Sonja and Tim know what was being done, how Derrik was. Each time he said, "Derrik is dead - technically. We are waiting for when all signs of life are gone." Then he came in again and said, "Please don't get your hopes up, but there is a tiny spot of pink on his cheek. With your permission we will admit him to the intensive care ward and give him life lines and see if he responds." Derrik was in a coma for days. Max and Guy Berryessa gave him a blessing. Tim's priest also was there and prayed for him. Nurses and interns hovered over him. We waited and watched this tiny little quiet body. Not a move. But one thing for sure, he was given blessing after blessing. Every time we had to priesthood holders visiting at a time, he was blessed. One of the male nurses assigned to Derrik asked to bring his bishop and bless him. And then he moved - a finger, a toe - just a little. I spent as much time before going to work and after as I could at the hospital to spell sonja and Tim off so they could get some rest. I'll never forget the day Derrik opened his eyes and smiled. There were a few traumatic, frustrating things that took place. Tim's alertness saved Derrik one day as he sat by the bed. A nurse was going to put some medicine through one of the life lines. Tim stoped her and told her to check the line that it was the wrong one. She was indignant, but she did check. Tim was right. Had the medicine gone into the wrong line it could have been disastrous. Then Derrik was put in another section of the hospital for a few days and then released. Derrik is our miracle boy. He's now four years old and he is so quick it's hard to keep up with him. The stress was really hard on Sonja and Tim. they were burdened with such an overwhelming debt, they came to live with me. Tim's work took him away a good part of the time. Sonja was working at Elliot's Restaurant to try to help. Then she found work as a checker at Albertsons Supermarket. Recently Sonja and Tim found a home to buy. Now I am alone in my big house again. Early in 1984 Tim was injured on the oir rig where he was working. A heavy chain fell on his back and foot causing a broken pelvis, crushed foot, and damaged discs in his back. Because of the seriousness of the injuries he was unable to return to work. In 1980 Mother began having little heart attacks or strokes. She was going to the hospital every three months. She became so confused with each trip to the hospital. She was living with Bea. The children and I had tried to visit or have Mom visit here as often as possible. Bea called me finally and asked me to come down again. She asked me to consider putting Mom in a convalescent home. Bea put Mom in a Center that was more like a hospital. The doctors told Bea she wouldn't live more than a couple of weeks at the most. She was quite a distance from Bea and visits were weekly. We decided that we should bring mother to Utah and have her here - her home. I flew to California again and brought Mom with me. The California Convalescent Center would not release Mother to me unless I found a place here since her health was so fragile and she needed constant care. The flight was delayed, and we didn't get to Provo until too late to put Mother in the Central Utah Convalescent Center so Susan and I brought her home and watched over her the whole night long. Mom was so confused and wakeful, and we had a difficult time keeping her on the bed. The girls and I went every day to be with Mother. We would take turns holding her up and helping her walk up and down the corridors until she was strong enough to walk by herself. She responded to having family around her and seemed to have a will to live. We would bring her home on Saturdays and take her back on Sunday afternoons. On special holidays we had her with us. Christmas was fun. The whole family came home and it was special to have Mother with us. Then Mom fell and broke her hip and she was back in the hospital again. When she recovered from that she could not walk and the nurses would tie her in her bed or in a chair. She would try to get up, and we were afraid she would fall again. I bought her a wheelchair - the nicest, softest, most comfortable one I could find. She has to be tied in that, too, or she'd pull herself out of the chair. But she seems to be happiest when she is free to propell herself around the halls at the Center. She doesn't know us. She often calls me Sadie, her sister's name, so I am at least a part of the family in her very muddled existence. Bea was called on a mission to Houston, Texas, for one year and for a time I feared Mother would be gone before Bea came home. But Bea has returned and Mother is still alive. These past two years have been so hard for me to see her unable to walk, or do anything really. Mother was such an independent, busy person, always on the go. I have tried bringing her home every weekend, then every other, then just on Sundays. But it has become too difficult to try to carry her in and out of the house, or pull the wheelchair up my steps to get in the house, only to take her back again. There seems to be little purpose since she is happier where she has more room to go. So now that has stopped. We see her as often as we can, but not for long. It's usually just for a kiss, a squeeze and an "I love you," and then a hurried departure with tears and a feeling of not being able to quite cope with a hard situation. Mom celebrated her 93rd birthday March 10, 1984. Pete and Colleen, Janet Lynne and some of her children and I went out to be with her. We took presents, a cake, a birthday bouquet of flowers and balloons. but she wasn't really with us. she's lived such a good life. I often wonder what holds her here. Is it fear? Maybe of what she'll find when she leaves? Will Daddy be there to welcome her with open arms? I know Tom will be. Mother is the only member of her famiy still living so her famiy will be there to welcome her. But until that strong little heart of hers stops beating, I'll try to let her feel my love and concern for her. I am 67 years old and I retired from Murdock Travel on September 1, 1984. Since retiring I have finished enbroidering a Norwegian Telemark bunad (national costume). In October I flew to Europe and took the bunad to a Telemark bunad shop to be sewn together. It has taken two years to complete this costume. It is beautiful and I am very proud of it. I feel happy and fulfilled to have completed this project. It means so much and ties into Dean's and my sweet memories of Norway. The girls and I have just had our pictures taken in the bunad. It is special, not just for me, but for all of my family - an heirloom. I want all of my children to enjoy it. I have 29 (soon 30) grandchildren: Erlend and Colleen have six children: Kristin, Sheri, Deborah, Deanne, Rebecca, and finally a boy, Andrew Erlend Peterson - the one little grandson to carry on the Peterson name. Janet and Philip have six children: Neena, Kari, Michael, Helene, Paul and Steven. Susan and Mark have eight children: Bradley, Stephen, Charles, Emily, Aimee, Kenneth, Rebecca, and Elizabeth. Dolores and Jim have four boys: Scott, Sam, Mark and Peter. Colleen and Craig have two little girls: Amber and Megan (and another child on the way). Sonja and Tim have three children: Timothy, Derrik and Desiree. Since Dean died I have been teaching in the ward Relief Society. I taught the Social Relations lessons for two or three years, the Mother Education for a couple of years, and then the Spiritual Living lessons. I know I have learned more than anyone else during this teaching time and have loved having the challenge and opportunity. As I reflect on my life I have two major treasures - my family and my religion. My life is still full and as happy as it can be without Dean. I think about Dean a great deal and our lives together. Dean always wanted me right by him. He made me feel so loved and close. I still feel that way - like I can reach out and he will take my hand. We had a beautiful life together. Our family is choice and beautiful. Each child is very special. They are my whole life. I have such a need to know that they are well and happy. No two people could have had more joy and fulfillment from their family than Dean and I. I love being with my family and seeing them together. They love being together, working, playing, taking on projects, helping each other, gathering around the piano and singing, and just being happy. Where and when I can I want to be very much a part of that. My religion has been the very center of my life. It has been a guide, it has given me strength, it has given me peace of mind, it has given me answers to the unknown, it has given me joy and happiness, and, most of all, it has given me the promise of heavenly parents under whose love and direction I will be able to have my family forever. In addition to my expression of love to my children, I want them to know that I have a very strong testimony of the truthfulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that true happiness comes from living the principles of the Gospel. I hope and pray with all of my heart that each one of my children will find the same joy and knowledge which Dean and I have had in obeying our Father's teachings.

EXPERIENCES FROM THE LIFE OF LYLE EVANS - by Janet Peterson Brown

Contributor: jpgenealogy Created: 1 year ago Updated: 3 months ago

EXPERIENCES FROM THE LIFE OF LYLE EVANS One thing that affected her very much was that her parents were divorced when she was a young girl. She was eleven years old. She writes of that time: “There wasn’t anything I could do for Mom to help that ache in her heart - that hurt that I’m sure she had knowing Dad just walked out on us – wondering what she had done to deserve such agony. Her nightly sobs broke my heart. She was so lovely and sweet. WHY? WHY? I couldn’t understand why Daddy would do such a thing, but I love him so. She took her four children (ages 2 to 11) from Provo, Utah to Tehran, Iran alone [as her husband had to leave ahead of her], and then to Germany for six months during a political coup. She said, “Our experiences in Iran taught us many things: How much we love our country and the freedoms we have in America. How very much we take for granted everyday things like turning on a tap to get a drink of water and drinking it without worry of illness, eating foods without a thought of disinfecting for safeguard of health. How very nice it is to be home near family members and friends. How choice it is to go to conference (or even listen to it on the radio) and hear the General Authorities. How nice to go to church without first having to clear with the police. All these, and many more, had become very precious to us. These experiences had been very good for us because we were stronger for having had them.” When on their mission to Norway she said, “For me, the language was a little harder to learn, but I truly tried. I traveled with Dean a great deal, spoke at district conferences in my own faltering Norwegian. I found the people very receptive and helpful. If I stumbled on a word they would say it for me. They always encouraged and buoyed me up even when I felt I hadn’t done as well as I had wanted.” Lyle didn’t have a driver’s license until she was in her late 50s. Of that she said, “[Dean] insisted that I go to Utah Tech and learn how to drive. He felt so strongly about it, that I did. He was so patient with me and took me to the classes and picked me up. It was really wonderful to be able to drive a car and be a little independent. When I received my driver’s license, Dean took me to Salt Lake and bought a car for me – a used car but a nice one. It was a [Pontiac] Lamans.” What a blessing that was to her to be able to drive when just a short time later her husband was diagnosed with lung cancer and died. That was a great trial. She said, “I loved this beautiful man so much. He and the children were my whole world.” Early in her marriage she said, “I loved being a mother, keeping our apartment clean, and cooking.” And toward the end of her life she said, “I have two major treasures – my family and my religion. My life is still full and as happy as it can be without Dean. He made me feel so loved and close…. I love being with my family and seeing them together…. I have such a need to know that they are well and happy… I know that true happiness comes from living the principles of the Gospel.” She passed away October 18, 1995.

LYLE EVANS PETERSON - Autobiography

Contributor: tnmbrown Created: 3 months ago Updated: 3 months ago

Lyle Evans Peterson I was born January 26, 1917 in Lehi, Utah County, Utah. Guy Evans was my father and Myrtle Jane Willes my mother. I have one sister, Bea Evans Bate, who is two and one half years older than I. My father was a farmer. His father, Morgan Evans, died at the age of 45 years. My father was the oldest and had to quit school and return home to the farm to help support his mother and run the farm with his three brothers. He was attending the University of Utah, was a basketball player, and a business management major. His father left a heavy debt and my father assumed that debt and helped pay it off. Later he went into banking. When I was three years old my dad opened the bank in Loa, Wayne County, Utah. My mother has always been a beautiful woman, and in my eyes as a child I remember looking up to her in childish awe. It has continued through the years. She has had a great deal of influence on my life. She has given me a beautiful example in her life of love, courage, strength of character, beauty. She is a lovely "lady" in the highest sense of the word. Let me tell you about my parents as I remember them as a child. My father was 5 feet 11 inches tall. He had blond curly hair and twinkling blue eyes. He was a jovial, happy man. He loved life and people. He loved to sing and had a beautiful tenor voice. I really don't remember too many times when my dad "disciplined" us girls. I do remember though that if he was unhappy or cross with us, his voice was the disciplining nature and it broke my heart if ever he was angry with us. I adored him, and I still do as I remember him with us. My mother was 5 feet 5 inches tall. She had long dark hair. (I remember when she wore it in a bob at the back of her neck and in the evening before retiring she would let it down and brush and brush it.) Her eyes are hazel - large and beautiful. She has always been slender, had a beautiful figure, and is erect! Even at 93 years she holds herself erectly. Mom sang, too, and I remember as we would travel in the car, she and Dad would sing - harmonize. One song I remember particularly was "Moonlight and Roses, bring wonderful memories of you." I suppose as long as I live "Moonlight and Roses" will bring all those sweet wonderful memories back to me. My mom baked her own bread. Dad loved it and on baking days Mom always tried to take the bread from the oven just about the time Dad came home from work. I'm sure that is why hot bread from the oven recaptures the picture of my Dad breaking open a round loaf (made especially for him), putting on the butter and honey and with our help would devour that special loaf. I remember when my dad came home from work at night, my mother would rush into his arms for a big hug and kiss, as would we girls. Regardless of what happened later, THAT is the picture I will remember of my mother and father - a happy, warm, loving couple. We lived in Lehi until I was three years old. My memories - I think, are things Mother and Dad told me about, not too much remembering that they happened - are of a lovely little cottage with flowers and grass surrounding it and a large walnut tree in front shading it from the sun, visits to Grandmother Evans' home in town, singing for Aunt Edith while she played a ukulele. Christmas trees at Grandma Evans' were beautiful with hundreds of shimmering icicles hanging straight and beautifully from every branch of the tree. I do remember visits to Grandma and Grandpa Willes' farm and the cookies. We loved to watch the ducks and geese, help Grandma churn the butter, and play on the buggies and wagons. I loved to sit on the white bear rug in front of Grandma and Grandpa's bed, look at pictures, and play. When I was three we moved to Loa, Wayne County, Utah. I remember a dear friend who lived just over the fence from us, Ramona Webster. She was such a special friend to me. The Callahan's owned the hotel. I remember their son, Sterling. He could walk on his hands, and I thought that was fantastic. Our home was just a block away from the large hotel - the only hotel in town. One night I was awakened by loud voices, yelling and crying. I opened my eyes to see, through the transom window in the door, fire! I screamed and Mother and Dad rushed in to see what was wrong. Dad opened the door and we could see the hotel was on fire. We put on robes and slippers and walked through the field as close as we dared and watched as the people tried to put the fire out. For a long time afterward I would wake up crying because a ball of fire was chasing me and I couldn't run fast enough. I was very frightened. Out in our front yard Dad built two swings, a teeter-totter, and a slide. It was a fun place to be and our friends would come over and be with us close by where Mom could watch us. Dad had business to attend to in Salt Lake City occasionally. Bea and I would usually go with Mom and Dad, but I remember one time they left us with friends, Doc and Leah Nelson. Doc was the only doctor in Loa. They didn't have any children, but they had a little bulldog named Jiggs. Leah made coats and sweaters for Jiggs and trained him to bark once for "please" and twice for "thank you." He was a smart little dog. My eighth birthday came while Mom and Dad were gone. I remember the fun party Leah gave me. It was really beautiful and lots of fun. Bea and I went to church and the Bishop announced that anyone who had turned eight should be baptized the next Saturday and said when and where. My sister Bea was always a good little manager and she made sure that I was at the right place at the right time with white clothes and I was baptized. My how surprised Mom and Dad were when they came home and found I had been baptized a new member of the church. Bea has always been very efficient and dependable. Dad and Leo Bown from Provo became partners in a purchase of a ranch. It was called the Boulder Ranch. We spent our summers at the ranch. Bea and I had such fun riding horses. We had our own horse. We called her Star. She was beautiful. We also went hiking and camping out in the red hills. Emma and Leo Bown had three children that I remember. The boy was a little older than Bea. His name was Myron, but they called him Bud. The two girls were EmmaLee and Alice. We had other ups and downs but mostly we had fun together. I remember one time Dad let Bea and me go with him and some of the men to round up some wild horses. I remember one special horse we rounded up. He was big and shiny black with a thick, beautiful mane. Dad also had a large German Shepherd dog named "Keno." He was a well-trained sheep and cattle dog. The ranch was a fun place for the kids. I know that Dad loved every minute of it. Mom's life, however, was a hard one. She and Mrs. Bown washed, cooked, and cleaned for twelve men besides their own families. Washing in those days was with scrubbing boards and big round tubs and hand ringers. I remember Grandmother Willes coming to visit us in Loa. She was a tiny white-haired English lady. In fact, as I look at my Mom right now I see Grandmother - tiny, frail, lovely. It was fun to hear Grandmother talk because she left off her "h's" and put them where they shouldn't be. Grandmother was partially deaf - as a child she had diphtheria and her hearing was affected. She carried a hearing tube. She would put one end in her ear and other end was used to speak into. Mother used to tell us she thought Grandmother could hear better than she let on because if Mother or her brothers and sisters said something smart or critical of others, Grandmother usually heard it. Mother would usually give Grandmother the darning bag when she visited to "keep her hands busy." She was very clever with her hands and handwork. I started school in Loa. Francis Callahan was my first grade teacher. We moved from Loa to Salt Lake City when I was in second grade. Dad went to work for Central Trust Company as a banker and stock and bond salesman. I don't know the details, but my Dad lost the ranch and all his equity in it because of a dishonest deal by the man who was supposed to "buy" it. Our first home in Salt Lake City was an apartment house - the Meredith Apartments located on First Avenue almost to A Street. Can you imagine Bea and me in a four-room apartment after having a ranch to roam? Our landlady called us "wild Indians" and I'm sure we were. I remember skating down the steep driveway by the apartments. We'd go faster and faster and I'm sure squeal with delight (our delight, the tenants dismay). We lived on the first floor. We could open our front window and climb outside with ease. Poor mother. I'm sure it must have been very hard for her to try to contain us, quiet us, yet keep us happy. The Meredith Apartments had a stairway from the south side of the apartments down to South Temple Street. Bea and I would often go down those long, steep stairs to the public library on State Street. Mom and Dad encouraged us to read and helped us to love reading. We would get books every week and spend hours reading. I still love to read. We were members of the 18th Ward. Bea and I attended the Lafayette School. School was fun. The principal was a lady, Miss Ferris. She was a twin to the lady at the public library. They were both tall, prim, strict, but very nice. It was at Lafayette School that I became aware of boys. They were such teases and would chase me. My sister, Bea, became my guardian. I'm sure Mom and Dad would say to Bea, "Take care of Lyle," and Bea did. I can remember boys teasing, pulling my hair, and Bea scolding and threatening them. Then the boys would yell at Bea and me, "There goes Maggie and her hard-boiled sister." I was "dearie" to Bea. She was sweet to me. One cold, snowy winter morning Bea and I were going to school. We were on State Street and Canyon Road. We were running. I didn't see a car coming. The driver tried to stop and couldn't. The bumper of the car hit me knocking me down, and the car ran over me. I wasn't hurt, but I do remember I had on a new red cape Mother had made for me and it was well greased. I was bruised and frightened, and I was crying. The driver pulled me out from under the car. Bea was crying. He carried me to the school to tell Miss Ferris what had happened and that he was taking me home. He took Bea and me into the apartment house. Bea showed him which apartment. When she opened the door and Mother came running to us, the man said in a loud voice, "Lady, I ran over your little girl." Grandmother Willes' sister, Aunt Annie, was with Mother. She was a practical nurse. She examined me and found only bruises on my back where the impact of the car hit me. The man left after apologizing and saying he was sorry over and over. I was loved and given assurance. I was put warmly and comfortably on the couch with pillows and blankets. I snuggled down and slept or listened to Mom and Aunt Annie talk. Mom said that night as I said my prayers my words went like this: "Heavenly Father, bless me that I'm not dead." I had learned a lesson of how precious life is and the lesson of gratitude. On Sundays after church, Dad would take us for a ride up the east part of the city where there were so many beautiful homes. We would drive slowly and gaze at each home seeing what we liked or didn't - window shopping so to speak. Dad would often buy Cummings Chocolates and we loved it - driving, looking, and savoring each bite of chocolates. Then one day Mom and Dad chose a little bungalow on Sherman Avenue almost to 15th East. We moved there. I was nine years old. We attended the Uintah School and went to the Wasatch Ward. I loved it there. Close friends of Mom and Dad's, Herbert and Edna Taylor, lived near by. They had a daughter, Glenda. She was a lovely girl and very talented. She could do art work beautifully. I'll always remember the beautiful paper dolls and clothes she made. She also played the piano very well. We had fun together. My memories of the Sherman Avenue home are very special. Having lots of friends in the neighborhood, playing "run sheepy run," "statue," "Annie I over," hearing happy voices, feeling love and sweetness in the home, going to church together - just sweet warm memories of home, family and the special things you dream about, being loved and wanted. It was in that house I remember Mother's hot bread with butter and honey, Mom's loving greetings when Dad came home from work, Dad mowing the lawn and his happy whistling or singing as he worked. It was also the house in which one of the saddest things happened to us as a family. The Christmas before I turned twelve was one of the saddest in my life. Daddy always brought a Christmas tree home two days before Christmas. We would trim the tree on Christmas Eve as a family. It was always such a happy time for us. Dad brought home the tree as usual, but Christmas Eve Daddy didn't come home. We waited and waited and no Dad. Finally Mother said, "Come on, we'll trim the tree and surprise Daddy." So we did, but we cried a little because we missed Daddy's happy, cheerful person taking charge. Mom was worried. We were disappointed. Mom put us to bed. When Daddy did finally get home I remember for the first time in our home harsh voices, unkind words, Mother crying, Daddy angry. I really don't remember that Christmas Day, but from then until the middle of January our lives were very different. We were to move. Mom drove us to our schools - the new ones we were to attend. Daddy and Mother had found an apartment, the Roberta Apartments on South Temple and Fifth East, to live in. Daddy didn't live with us after that. Until we moved into the apartment, Mom would take us to school and then come and get us after school. I was in seventh grade. I remember to this day the first day when Mother drove me to school, waved good-bye tearfully, and drove off. I stood by a tree in front of the school watching the other children playing ball, hopscotch, etc. I felt so alone and frightened. A lovely, tall, slender girl came over to me and introduced herself to me. Her name was Alleen Warner. She was so nice to me, and I did need a friend so much at that moment. She had blonde hair, lovely big hazel eyes, and a very warm "I care" way. Alleen and I have been close friends all through the years. The day we moved from our home Dad took us out to eat at a restaurant in Sugar House. We ate and then we parted ways. Dad went his way and we went to our little apartment. It was a small apartment. There was one bedroom and the front room. It had a "murphy bed" you pull down each night. Bea and I slept on the murphy bed and Mom slept in the bedroom. That first while I would wake up to hear Mother crying. There wasn't anything I could do for Mom to help that ache in her heart. That hurt that I'm sure she had knowing Dad just walked out on us - wondering what she had done to deserve such agony. Her nightly sobs broke my heart. She was so lovely and sweet. WHY? WHY? I couldn't understand why Daddy would do such a thing, but I love him so and I'm sure I was (and perhaps still am) defensive for him. But, of course, at the same time I was hurt that he would desert us. I'm not sure anyone really explained to me why it happened. Through the years I have come to feel that Daddy was so distraught (and I suppose) almost desperate because of his losses of money and properties, he felt he had to get on top somehow. He decided he was going to make money some way. He'd known debt before, and I'm sure it wasn't easy to pay back Grandpa's debts and then try to overcome all these losses, too. He said he didn't want to hurt Mom or drag her through more misery. He was not going to be discreet nor did he care what people would think of him. He just wanted to get back his losses. He just didn't want Mother to suffer. Didn't he know she suffered MORE AS A DISCARDED WIFE than she would have trying to help him work through more money worries?!!! Mother went to LSD Business College to take shorthand and typing to prepare herself to get work. I went on to Bryant Junior High School. I worked in the lunchroom as a cashier for my lunch. I have my report cards for the two years I was at Bryant Junior High - straight "A's." Mother got a job at ZCMI. Bea was going to East High School. Somehow we were surviving. I graduated from Bryant, Bea from East. I went to East High and Bea to the University of Utah. Bea and I were dating, sometimes double dating together and that was fun. In spite of being without Dad, we found a lot of fun things to do together. We were in the 20th Ward. Mother worked in the Relief Society. She was a counselor to Sister McConkie. On special days, Mom would take Bea and me to Hotel Utah to eat, or the ZCMI Tearoom. We saw Daddy once in a while. He would take us girls to a show or dinner occasionally. Then Dad came to see Mother and ask her for a divorce. They had been separated five years. Of course, she went ahead with the divorce. She felt so degraded, so embarrassed to be a divorcee. She still loved him although he had hurt her so. Finances became a little tight. We moved again. This time to the Piccadilly Apartments just around the corner from the Roberta. It was a basement apartment and not so expensive. I got a part-time job at Kresses. I baby-sat and I also sat in a doctor's apartment to take calls. I was going steady with a boy by the name of Melvin Peterson. We went to all of the Cadet Hops at the different high schools and had some really fun times. I graduated from East High School in 1934. I got a job at the State Banking Department liquidation division as a secretary. Daddy married again to a woman from Holland. Her name was Johanna Parleylet, we called her Joan. She was much younger than Daddy. Once or twice Daddy and Joan would take Bea and me to dinner or a show. Once Joan took Bea and me to lunch at ZCMI, and wouldn't you know it, we met Mother there. Mother had never met Joan. I introduced them very clumsily, "Mother, this is Daddy's wife." Oh me! One night about a year after Daddy and Joan had married, Mother got a call from Joan. It was really late at night, midnight or so as I remember. Joan said they were staying at the hotel in Burley, Idaho, and Daddy was very ill. He was asking for us. Would we come? Mother said of course we would come. We packed our bags in a hurry, climbed in the car and drove for hours and hours up to Burley. I'll never forget how long that ride took. Dad was in a coma when we finally arrived. We wanted so much to have him open his eyes if only for a moment and tell us he loved us. He didn't. He died that night -- hours later. It was a long wait and Mom was the one who sat patiently by his bedside waiting, hoping, and then he was gone. Daddy was 45 years old when he died - March 30, 1935. I was 18 years old. Bea was 20. He didn't even know we had come. The funeral, arranged by Joan, of course, was in Salt Lake City. I can still see my Dad lying in his dark suit in the coffin and how shocked I was to see the dark suit. All I had ever seen up to then was white. It seemed so final. Mother and Daddy were married in the temple and the divorce had been only a civil divorce - not a temple divorce. My mother is still sealed to Daddy and I cling to that very much. We moved again to a smaller, less expensive apartment still in the same neighborhood. I loved my job at the Banking Department. Mother was still at ZCMI. She was head of the Dress Department and in charge of fashion shows. I was one of her models a couple of times, and it was fun. Mother met Thomas Bailey, a business man, from Nephi, Utah. He was 22 years older than Mother, but he was a good man. He was kind, and he loved Mother. He proposed to her and she accepted. They were married for time only in the Manti Temple. Tom really wanted her to get a temple divorce and be sealed to him eternally. He gave Mother a home, security and love. Things she needed very much. I could understand her needing and wanting the security. I like Tom. He was kind to me, but I had reservations and heartaches of my own kind over the marriage. It is really difficult to have someone else married to your mother. I was young, and now I know my feelings were very selfish ones, but natural ones. They lived in Salt Lake City for a while. Tom had a home in Nephi and a business. Mom so wanted to stay in Salt Lake for our sakes, I'm sure. Tom had three children. Ray was his only son. He was married to Mary Romney and they had two little girls, Trenna was only ten years younger than Mother. Felma was the youngest. Felma was dating Ralph Chase, a charming nice fellow who worked for Tom. My sister Bea graduated from the University of Utah and was offered a job teaching, but instead she married Earl Bate. Earl was a red-headed, freckled faced, fun-loving, dare devil type of fellow. He had a motorcycle. He was a policeman for a while and then he learned to fly airplanes and that became his profession. He was the head controller of air traffic. Bea had always been a quiet person and I think Earl helped her release some of the inner tensions. Earl was a member of the Mormon Church but not active. Bea became inactive. They moved to Ogden for a while and then on to California. So there I was: 18 years old, my father gone, my mom was married again and now my sister was married. I decided it was time for me to get away from home. I decided I should go to college. A friend of mine had interested me in Brigham Young University. Mother and Tom thought it would be great. I found an apartment with five other girls in the basement of a home on 600 North and 200 East in Provo. It was only three or four blocks from the University Hill - halfway between the Upper Campus and the Lower Campus. I found a job as a BYU telephone operator to help me with expenses. That first year at BYU was a happy one. I loved the Y. There was so much to do. I went to all of the games, lyceums, matinee dances and other activities. I made a lot of friends. The year went fast. I was going out with some really nice fellows. Wayne Rogers and I had met before I came to the Y, and I liked him a lot. He was in drama and had leads in many of the university plays. Linc Garner was a sports person. He played basketball for the Y and he loved to box. Avard Rigby was a fun person to be with. Linc and Avard were really good friends. I joined a "social unit" named LAVADIS. We planned some nice social dances, parties, etc. It was at BYU that I met Dean Peterson. I was a freshman. He was a junior. He was a tall, slender, nice looking fellow. He was blonde with blue eyes. He played in an orchestra, the Y band, and with a dance band. He also worked at the BYU Library. He always asked me to dance at the matinee dances and was often at the MIA dances and asked me. At the end of his junior year, he and Wayne Rogers ran against each other for Student Body President. Wayne was the winner, and Dean was elected to be Senior Class President. Mother and Tom had moved to Nephi. During the summer months I lived with them and got a job as secretary to P.N. Anderson, an attorney-at-law. My sophomore year I lived at a small home on 100 East between 600 and 700 North. Dean and I started to go together quite frequently. Dean was 6 feet 1 inches tall, blonde, and a returned missionary from Norway. His home was in Mt. Pleasant, Utah. His father was a bishop. He had been a banker most of his life. Dean's mother had brown hair, blue eyes, and was very reserved. She was unhappy that Dean and I were getting serious. She had already picked out the girl Dean should marry. He had dated her for some time before his mission, and she was a Mt. Pleasant girl. Dean had one sister, Rhoda, married to Hans Reed Christensen, a professor and farmer. They lived in Ephraim. They had two children, Jay and Nedra. He also had two brothers, Elden and Wayne, both younger than him. Elden attended BYU and I had been on a date or two with him. Wayne was about five years younger than me. I liked them both and enjoyed being with them. Dean graduated from BYU in 1938. He got a teaching job at North Sanpete High. His brother Wayne was in his classes. He taught commercial subjects. During the summer months I lived in Nephi with Mom and Tom. Dean would come over on the weekends to see me. Nephi was just half an hour's drive from Mt. Pleasant. Dean worked at the Pea Viner that summer and his hours were long and hard, but we did see each other. My junior year, 1938-39, I went back to the same home to live. It was lonesome at the Y without Dean there, but we wrote and saw each other as often as we could. I was in love and it was the real thing. There was a professor at the Y who taught night classes and gave lectures in Sanpete. Sometimes I would ride down to Mt. Pleasant with him and visit with Dean and then drive back after the classes. It was so special and gave Dean and me more time to be together. Mother really loved Dean and trusted him explicitly. Tom approved, too. In the middle of my junior year I got a strep throat and was quite ill. I was out of school too long and lost out on the classes I was taking so I discontinued. I got a job in Salt Lake City with the Kathern Yergensen Teaching Agency. It put Dean and me further apart in distance, but he would drive up to Salt Lake whenever he could find time. The summer of 1939 Dean went to Los Angeles to start his masters degree at the University of Southern California. I was invited in June of that year to travel with my mother's sister, Aunt Eva, and her husband, Uncle Dave Wangsgaard, and their daughter, Genee. Genee and I had always been close and Aunt Eva thought Genee would be happier on the trip if she had someone with her. We drove to Calgary, Canada; Banff; and Lake Louise. It was so beautiful. We stayed a few days in that area and then drove down the coast to California, stopping at our convenience and pleasure and where we could find motels at good rates. It was a wonderful experience and the first opportunity I had had to travel outside of Utah. Uncle Dave and Aunt Eva were both teachers (Uncle Dave, really a school superintendent) and were to attend school for a couple of weeks in Berkeley, California. Genee and I wandered the city window-shopping or doing whatever we felt like. We swam and read. I remember the fresh boysenberry tarts we'd buy and eat as we walked. It was a special time for me. When their schooling was over we drove on to Los Angeles and stayed a few days there. Now THAT was the destination I'd looked forward to (the "frosting on the cake" so to speak) because Dean was there and I was to see him. Uncle Dave teased me the entire trip because I would slyly tell him he must be going north not south and much too slowly, and he'd tease me about being just too anxious to see Dean. Dean proposed to me under a banyan tree in front of the house where he was living. "Let's get married, Butch (his pet name for me) - Will you marry me?" and I answered a little flippantly because we'd gone these rounds before, "Sure, honey, right now?" Many times he'd said let's get married to me in a "sometime, someday" way to let me know he loved me and marriage was at the end of the rainbow. We knew we couldn't get married while he was living in California. So I really didn't think it was a proposal for real. He wrote to me after I had gone and said "I mean it, will you?" It reassured me of his love and I knew when he came home in July (this was June) somehow things would work out. Dean called me as soon as he arrived in Mt. Pleasant. He had an offer - a contract to sign to teach at Dixie Jr. College in St. George, Utah. It was a definite offer that he would accept if I would marry him, and we would make our home in St. George. Of course, I said yes and Dean brought his parents over to Nephi to meet Mother and Tom and set the date. We set it for August 28, 1939! Dean's grandparents wanted to meet me so I went to Mt. Pleasant to meet them. Peter and Celeste Peterson were two of the sweetest people I'd ever met. I remember as Dean took me over to meet them they were sitting on the glider swing in the shade of a large lilac bush in the front yard of Dean's parent's home. Grandma took my hand, held it with both of her hands, and patted my hand as she talked. She said they had waited a long time for Dean to find the right girl, and they were so glad he finally had found me. Dean was 26 and I was 22. Mother and I were in a whirl the following month. We went to Salt Lake City to choose a wedding dress and wardrobe. There were wedding showers and all the preparations for the wedding. It was a happy time. Dean and I were married in the Manti Temple by President Robert Young, the Temple President, and we had our reception in Nephi. Mother really put her heart into it. She loved Dean and was truly happy for us. It was a beautiful reception and so many people came from all over. When the reception line broke, the orchestra played the Wedding Song, and Dean and I danced all alone on the floor. Then others joined in. Dean's father loaned us his car and we drove to Provo that night after the reception and stayed at the Roberts Hotel. It was the only hotel at that time in Provo. We went on to Yellowstone Park for our honeymoon. We stayed in a little log cabin. It had one room with a coal stove to heat it. Dean made the fire each morning until the last morning. We traveled all over Yellowstone seeing the geysers and all the sights and just enjoying being together. The last morning we were there Dean said it was my turn to get up and make the fire. Of course, I thought he was teasing. But he wasn't. You see, I had never had to make a fire in my entire life. I didn't know how, nor did I think this was a very good time to learn. I can't remember what was said, but a fire didn't get made at all. I got up, dressed, and helped pack the car. All this was done with complete silence! Our first "fight." We climbed in the car and drove for miles before we decided it was pretty silly to be mad any longer over such a small item. We kissed and then everything was all right again. (I'm still a lousy fire maker.) St. George was a charming place to live. Our first apartment was a basement apartment under the movie theater right in the center of town a block from the college. Jack Wadsworth was our landlord. He was a huge man but very nice. He owned the movie theater and would let us go to the show once in a while for free. Our bishop was 25 years old - very young in those days to be a bishop. He owned the bakery right next door to our apartment house. He was always bringing us treats from the bakery - donuts, potato chips, and sweet rolls. Bishop Andrew McArthur and his wife, Myrle, were really sweet to Dean and me. School was about to start and there were steak fries, parties, and meetings so we met all the faculty members and their companions. We loved it. We made friends with the older students, too. The weather was great - much warmer than Utah County. The first year went by quickly and happily. The summer of 1940 Dean and I went to Los Angeles for Dean to go on with his masters degree studies. I got a job at the University as a thesis typist to help with expenses. I was expecting our first baby. In some of my spare time while Dean was at school I found a little knit shop. I bought some yarn and they showed me how to knit. That was the beginning of one of my favorite hobbies. We went back to St. George in the fall for another year at Dixie Jr. College. The baby's arrival was to be the 24th of December. Dean's parents came down to St. George for Thanksgiving. It was November 24, 1940. We had a good dinner and were playing a game of Rook when my pains started. Little Pete was born that day. He was a month pre-mature, a little less than five pounds, tiny, but so beautiful to us. I stayed in the hospital ten days. That was the magical time allotted for new mothers. Little Pete really didn't want to eat. We had to pry his little jaws open before he would take hold. There was the cutest English nurse there taking care of us. One day she was helping get Pete to eat and she said, "Petah, if you want to be a big man like your fathah, you bettah eat your suppah!" Dr. Reichert was our doctor. He was so nice. His office was just across the street. He was always available and willing. Mother came to St. George to be with me and help. It was so nice to have her there. World War II began in 1940. Dean's draft call was #3 but because I was with child he was deferred for the time. Many of our friends were called up, drafted, and had to go to war. I loved being a mother, keeping our apartment clean, and cooking. By the time Pete was six months old he was a chubby, darling baby, and he really thrived in spite of the "old wives' tale" that few 8-month babies survive. I guess you hear everything when you are in the circumstances and worry when you hear these things. You become more fearful. I had almost lost Pete when I was three months pregnant and when he was born Dr. Reichert told us it was a miracle that either the baby or I survived. The human body is wonderful, and the Lord knew how very much we needed to keep our son. Dean was offered a teaching job at Weber Jr. College in Ogden for the 1941-42 school year. We moved to Ogden. We found a really nice duplex apartment. My college friend, Dorothy McGuire, had married Johnny Carlton, and they were living in Ogden. We really enjoyed cooking dinners for each other, going to dances, and shows. It's always so much more special when you have close friends to share. It was 1941 when Tom (Mom's husband) became very ill with cancer. He was in the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City. Mother stayed right by his side for the many weeks he was ill. He died at the hospital about four months later. It was sad to see mother alone again. Dean and I traveled back and forth to Mt. Pleasant and Nephi on the weekends. Dean signed his contract with Weber for another year and we were planning to return. Little Pete (we named him Erlend Dean, but he still is called Pete) was such fun. He loved his Dad so and would watch for him to come home after work. When he saw him he'd get the evening paper (that was one of the first things Dean looked for), run and sit in Dean's favorite chair, open the paper (most of the time it would be upside down) and he would pretend to read when his Dad came in. Dean would swoop Pete and paper up and fall into the chair to hug and hold his boy and read his paper. It was always so much joy to watch them together. Toward the end of the school year Dean was offered a job at BYU. We went in to see President Dixon, President of Weber College, to ask for a release from Dean's contract. President Dixon was very kind. Dean and I moved to Provo. One of the men who had recommended Dean for the job, Evan Croft, had a basement apartment in his home. We moved into it. Dean loved the Y and so did I. It was like coming home to both of us. We had wanted to come to the Y to teach. It was a dream fulfilled. While we were living in the Croft apartment I miscarried with a little boy at 5 months. It was the fall of 1942. We moved from the Croft home to Muhlestein Apartments on 800 North and 700 East. It was a three-room apartment. We loved it. It was right under the University Hill, close to Dean's work. I enjoyed being in a sunny light place after the dark basement apartment. It was while we were there that I was asked to teach in the 9th Ward Primary. Ariel Ballif was our bishop. Dean was called to be a counselor in the Stake MIA. We were busy and happy and little Pete was really thriving. President Franklin S. Harris was the president of BYU. Besides teaching, Dean was Assistant to the President. Dean was so organized and a perfectionist. He really enjoyed his work. I was happy. Dean was always so kind and sweet to me. He was a good husband and a good father to little Pete. Christmas of 1943 I was expecting. I was seven months pregnant. We had been visiting in Mt. Pleasant with Dean's family and on December 27th we drove over to Nephi to be with Mother for the rest of our vacation time before going back to school. When we arrived in Nephi I was miserable. I was having very severe pains. We called Dr. Don C. Merrill in Provo and he said to come on to Provo and check in at the hospital. He would meet us there. He was there waiting when we arrived. It was a long hard delivery. The cord was short and they were afraid it was wrapped around the baby's neck. Our little girl (Karen Deanne) was born that day, December 27, 1943. She was put in an incubator and I was not even allowed to get up to see her. She lived five days. New Year's morning about 5 a.m. a grim, unsympathetic nurse waked me up to tell me my baby had expired. I asked them to call Dean, but they waited until a "decent" hour, 8 a.m., to let him know our baby had died. I refused to stay longer in the hospital. I was home in bed when Grandma Peterson brought little Pete home to us. How good it was to have that boy in my arms. Dean made arrangements to buy our first piece of land - a burial plot. We had a graveside service. Before the service they brought little Karen in her casket for me to see. I hadn't even had a chance to hold her. She was a beautiful little girl with lots of dark hair. She had a dimple in her chin. She was very tiny. Dean and his Dad had blessed her and given her a name. It was in the fall of 1943 that Mother moved to Provo and became a dorm mother at BYU at the Knight Mangum Hall and then later at Amanda Knight Hall. Dr. Wesley P. Lloyd interviewed her. We were so happy to have her closer to us. Knight Mangum Hall was a new dorm - so new that not all the doors were in. One hundred and fifty girls in a dorm that needed one hundred and one things to finish it Somehow Mother pulled through that. Dr. Amos N. Merrill asked me to take blessings he gave (patriarchal blessings) and type them up for him. I was doing this at the time I lost little Karen Deanne. Dr. Merrill gave me a special blessing so I could have more family. This was the second baby I had lost since having Pete. We were wanting a baby so much and it just seemed that we were not to be blessed with more children. The blessing was a great comfort to me. I was a member of BYU Women's Organization, a counselor to Irva Andrus. I was a member of Bonheur, a social club with other BYU wives. I was in the Stake Primary Presidency. Edna Terry was the president. I met many wonderful people and had some very spiritual and beautiful experiences. April 26, 1945, I gave birth to a baby girl, Janet Lynne. She was such a choice beautiful experience for us. She was chubby and beautiful. She was serious for most everyone but her family. She was such a miracle to us. We were so baby hungry and she fulfilled all we needed. Pete was almost five years old by that time and as delighted as he was to have a little sister, his "nose was out of joint" a little since he didn't get ALL of our attention. April 19, 1947, Susan Kay was born. She had a lot of dark curly hair and was always happy. It was wonderful to have two girls together. They were blessed as friends as well as sisters. They still feel that closeness these many years later. Janet would always want Susan to go where ever she went - hand in hand. I would watch these two and think a little of Bea and me and how she watched after me. In 1948 we bought a lot, and Dean and some of our friends bought temporary buildings that had been built during the war, dissembled them and built us a little garage house on our lot. We planted a peach tree. I remember the first peaches on the tree. They were so good and big. We bought some little baby chickens to raise, kill and freeze. Pete was devastated to think we would kill them. He had become so attached to them he just didn't understand. We bought him a cocker spaniel dog which helped. How he loved that dog. July 29, 1949, Dolores Ann was born. What a darling curly headed blonde she was. I had just got her home and had to go back to the hospital for an operation. She was the only bottle-fed baby I had, but she thrived. Janet Lynn was four years old in 1949 when she was hit by an automobile. She and a group of children were "following the mailman." There was a house being constructed and the lady behind the wheel didn't see Janet as she ran out in the street. One of the neighbors came rushing in to me to tell me and I was glad my mother was there with me. Someone had called an ambulance and I climbed in with her and we went to Dr. Don C. Merrill's office. She had a broken leg. Dr. Merrill put her leg in a cast and gave us some little crutches to use. She was the hit of the neighborhood. I mean, every child in the area had to walk with the aid of her crutches and sign her cast. It was also a good lesson for all of them to be careful when they crossed the street. She had her cast for six months. It was a bad break In 1951 we received a call from President Franklin S. Harris who was in Salt Lake City to recruit people to go to Iran. He was country director in Iran for the Point Four Program. They wanted people from BYU for Education, University of Utah for Health Program - preventative as well as medical doctors, and from Utah State University in Logan for Agriculture. We were excited about the program. We went up to see President Harris at the Hotel Utah and after a briefing we decided to go. Others who were going were Max and Janet Berryessa, Glen and Marge Gagen, and Reed and Shirley Bradford. We began to meet together to make plans for our new adventure. We'd be gone for two years. We had some Iranian students who were at the Y come and talk to us. This was at the first of the year - February or March of 1951. The contracts were government but through BYU. We were thoroughly investigated, the contracts were hanging on a lot of government red tape, and it all took time. August or September was the projected time of leaving. In August we shipped all the clothes, washing machine, etc. we would be taking to Iran. All very necessary things. The day the big truck came to take our things Janet Lynne became ill with nausea and a terrible headache. Dr. Merrill watched her overnight and then we took her to the hospital. It was diagnosed as polio. Then, because there were no iron lungs at the Utah Valley Hospital, she was transferred to the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake. The doctor called us and said the ambulance would leave the hospital in 15 minutes. We were to follow the ambulance. What a ride that was. We could see the lights go on in the ambulance and the doctors and nurses attending to Janet time and again. It was a long old ride and an anxious one. When we got to 33rd South the ambulance turned on its lights and siren and sped ahead and we lost it. When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor who was to take over was waiting for us for our signature for a tracheotomy. Her lungs were ready to collapse. It was touch and go for weeks. It was so hard to see our little Janet in an iron lung, but how grateful we were she had made it - only minutes until paralysis took over. She had both bulbar (lungs were paralyzed) and spinal. She was paralyzed all down her left side. Dean and I drove to Salt Lake every day to see her. When there was an emergency they would let us put on white gowns and masks and go in to see her. It was so frightening to go to the hospital and see a red flag by her name on the register. When she was all right we would stand outside her window where she could see us and we her. The other children went with us when they could be outside and see her. Janet developed pneumonia after she had been there a few weeks, and we thought we would lose her. There was one sweet nurse that night who stayed for a double shift to stand by Janet. She said her big brown eyes pleaded with her and she couldn't leave. What a blessing she was to us and our little Janet. We had her name in every temple, and our prayers were joined by all our families and friends. She was given a blessing by David O. McKay. She was given other blessings, too. She was given a lot of tender loving care. Then she was out of the iron lung. When the tube had been removed from her trachea, she learned how to breathe on her own again. We were given permission to take her home. It was so wonderful to have her home again, but at the same time she was far from well enough to go to Iran. The contracts were signed and plans made for departures for everyone. Dean and I prayed about it and decided to go talk to a General Authority about taking Janet so far away from doctors and home when she had been so ill. Ezra Taft Benson was the one who was available when we went to the Church Office Building. He listened to us and then said, "Yes, go. It doesn't matter where you live. If you live the best you can, keep the commandments of the Lord, pay your tithes, etc. the Lord will bless you." So the day after we brought Janet home, Dean left for Washington D.C. He was to drive to Washington, ship his car with the others (they were going by ship), and fly to Iran. The children and I stayed in Provo in our little garage home to wait out Janet's recovery before we joined Dean in Iran. A few days after Dean left, Janet fevered to 106 degrees. I couldn't get her fever down. In the middle of the night I was so frightened and felt so alone, I called my next door neighbor, Afton Porter, and she came over and sat with me by Janet's bedside until about 5 a.m. I called Dr. Merrill and he put her back in the hospital with a kidney infection and pneumonia. I tried to get in touch with Dean but couldn't. I had this one by myself. A week later Janet came home again and from then on was much better. It was two and a half months after that we found a renter for our little house, packed and moved out. Mother took us to the Hotel Utah for the night and then to the airport the next morning. Wayne and Mother were the ones to wave good-bye to us as we flew from Salt Lake City for our trip halfway around the world. "Gird up your loins, fresh courage take," were words that fit the occasion. Here I was flying for the first time and four precious children in my care, but the "drive" to get where Dean was foremost in my heart and mind. Pete was ten, Janet was six, Susan was four, and Chuckie was two. We flew out early in the morning to Chicago, changed planes and flew to New York. In those days we had to fly to Idlewilde Airport and go by bus to the International flights. We had a traumatic experience with the bus driver over the fact that we should have had passes to go on the bus and no one had told me. I was not about the get off that bus with my four children just to get the passes. I finally said, "Is there no way other than getting off the bus?" "Sure," he said, "Pay me." I said, "Why didn't you say that's all I had to do. How much?" The whole bus load was cheering me on. I paid and away we went. We had a ten hour wait at the international airport as it was. The children were fantastically good for me. We all got tired and were grateful when the time came for us to board our flight. We arrived in Paris the next day. With four children and me so untraveled, I didn't dare leave the airport. Again we waited for the late evening flight out. We had games, puzzles, coloring books, etc. to keep us busy, and a book to read. We loved reading together. We were flying first class so were the first ones to board the plane. From Paris we flew to Beirut, Lebanon. We had a three or four hour wait there and then on to Tehran. As we got off the plane we saw Dean on the other side of the wall. We knew he was there and we were going to be together. President Harris went with us through customs before we could get to Dean. Susan kept pulling on my skirt and asking, "Don't you want to see Daddy? He's just outside. Come on, Mama, let's go see Daddy." But then we were finally out hugging Dean - a family again - halfway around the world, but we were together again. Dean had borrowed a car and he took us through the city showing us all the sights and then up to the Darban Hotel. All of the Utah people who were in Teheran were at the hotel and out to greet us. This was to be our home for a couple of months. It was really nice. It was fun to meet the U of U people and the USU people who were to be almost like "family" for our stay there. We finally found a nice brick home about ten miles from the city in a little place called Tajrish. About five of the Utah families were in that area - Petersons, Ballards, Milligans, Roskelleys and Berryessas. Our home had a swimming pool. It was so neat. We had a gardener, and his little 17-year-old wife was a maid for a while but really didn't know how to clean. She was dishonest and stole (as we found many of them did). Pete went to an international school, where 26 nationalities were represented. I taught the girls with the CALVERT SYSTEM. It was kind of fun. We had school each morning. President Harris had been called and set apart as a branch president when he was in Utah recruiting and so all of us in Teheran were put to work. I taught a Beehive class in MIA to the 3 or 4 girls. Dean was in the branch presidency. As a family we did things together. We had to make our own entertainment, and we were closer as a family than ever before. It was so fantastic when we had fast meeting to hear the young children stand and bear their testimonies. In 1952 there was a political cou'e that made it dangerous for us to stay in Iran. The American government suggested that those of us with families leave the country. With four children they told me if we needed to evacuate, Dean would be the last to get out. They would have to take the women and children first. Janet Berryessa had gone, as had some of the other wives and children. The children and I were to go to Europe and wait for the country to be safer. Dean went with us as far as the Holyland. We took a tour, and even though we knew we were going to have to part soon, we enjoyed being in the Holyland walking where Jesus walked. We prayed sincerely that the time for us to be apart again would not be for long. Dean took us to our plane and waved good-bye. It was more frightening now than at home. We felt very much alone. The children and I flew to Switzerland and Dean flew back to Iran. The government had promised us if we waited in Europe until the trouble was over, we could return to Iran. We flew to Zurich and then took a train to Bern where some of the other families had gone. It was especially beautiful to us after being in Iran where there is very little foliage. But it was lonesome without Dean. Trying to keep the children quiet and happy in the hotel was impossible so after a week or so, the children and I took the train to Frankfurt and a taxi to Herkxt where Janet Berryessa and her two children were staying with her sister Helen and family. Helen and Dave put us up for a night or two and then took me out looking for a Pension (which was like a boarding house at home). We found one in Bad Soden, a few miles from Herkxt. We went to the military branch of our church. Dave and Helen were very kind to me and went out of their way to pick us up for church and bring us home. I don't know what we would have done without them. We enjoyed our stay in Bad Soden. There was a dear little shop just a block from our Pension that had porcelain figurines and beautiful gifts. I loved the little Hummels especially. It was cold that winter in Germany. the humidity factor had a lot to do with how cold it was. Janet was ill off and on and we worried about her. We bought the warmest coats and caps we could find for the children. I was so proud of Pete. He was so dependable and good to help. He went to school in Frankfurt, an American school. He had to take the train to Herkxt, change to another train to Frankfurt, and then a bus to his school. My how trusting I was to let him venture out like that, but he proved that he could do it. Janet and I met often and shopped or had lunch. How nice to have friends like Janet and Helen and Dave. Dean and Max Berryessa came over in January to see us and then flew back to Iran. It was March of 1953. We were told we could return to Iran so the Berryessas and the Petersons flew back to be with our husbands and daddies. We signed a contract to stay another year. We lived in the same area we had before but a different house. One day our little Susan, who was not yet six, tried to push a door which was half glass window to open it. The paint was sticky and the door refused to open. Susan had pushed against the window part and the glass shattered and her arm was badly cut. Dean was there, thank goodness, and knew how to put on a tourniquet which he did and we lived just a ways from a nurse's house. Pete stayed with Janet and Chuckie while we ran with Susan to the nurse's home for her to check the arm first and then we drove to Teheran to the Army hospital. It was a while before the doctor came in to us. He was amazed at the length of the cut - her wrist almost to her elbow. He was so cute with Susan and he took many stitches to sew that arm up. On our return Pete informed us that everything was going to be all right. He and the girls had prayed together and received the assurance that Susan would be fine. We were grateful that Pete had known what to do. We had needed that prayer very much. Our experiences in Iran taught us many things: How much we love our country and the freedoms we have in America. How very much we take for grated everyday things like turning on a tap to get a drink of water and drinking it without worry of illness, eating foods without a thought of disinfecting for safeguard of health. How very nice it is to be home near family members and friends. How nice to be near the temple where we can attend whenever possible. How choice it is to go to conference (or even listen to it on the radio) and hear the General Authorities. How nice to go to church without first having to clear with the police. All these, and many more, had become very precious to us. These experiences had been very good for us because we were stronger for having had them. We returned to Utah after a stop in Norway - a promised visit to Norway from Dean. His gift to us. It was so beautiful and wonderful to meet his special people. Mother and Mom Peterson met us in New York. We picked up a brand new car, a Pontiac, which we had ordered before leaving Iran. We drove home, visiting, singing, seeing our country with new eyes, loving our Moms more for having not seen them for three years! It was 1955. We shopped for a house. We found one in Orem, Utah. We rented our garage home and moved into our new home at 526 East 400 North. It was a lovely home. Dean taught the Gospel Doctrine class. I taught in Primary. Then Dean was put in the High Council and I was called to be president of the ward MIA for the Young Women. I was just beginning to really enjoy it when I was called to be Stake YWMIA President. That one was a real challenge, but a beautiful experience. We loved our home and our neighbors. The children were happy in school. Life was good to us. Dean was called to be a Bishop on the BYU Campus. That really filled his time. And he was making so many trips back and forth. And I was still Stake YWMIA President. But once in a while the children and I would attend his ward. February 23, 1956 Colleen Diane was born. We had so much fun with her. We all enjoyed her. She loved to sing and perform for us and she would clap the hardest for us all and laugh and laugh. It was more fun to play with her than go to the movies. After school was out in May, Dean took a sabbatical leave from the Y and we rented our home and moved for a year and a half to Los Angeles and lived there while Dean finished his doctorate. Dean taught the Gospel Doctrine class in Adams Ward and I was in the Primary Presidency. Being a Mormon and being called to church positions is a wonderful way to meet people and feel so at home no matter where you are! Dean went to school all week but Saturdays we set as special days for the family to do things together. We would go to the beach and swim often, look up special friends in that area and visit them. We saved up and went to Disneyland. Janet and Max met us and we all went together. It was really fun and special. We returned to Orem in the Fall of 1957. Dean was called to be in the BYU Third Stake Presidency under President Noble Waite. I took the children part of the time to Dean's Stake but mostly we stayed in our own ward. In 1959 we started to build a new home. We had purchased a lot in the Evening Glow subdivision in Northeast Provo. We loved the home we were in very much. Dean used the plans for it with some variations. December 2, 1959 Sonja Yvonne was born. She was so beautiful - blond with blue eyes like her dad. I was 43 years old. I knew she was my last baby and I was so glad we had her. We moved to our new home in October of 1960. It was so nice to be close to the Y again and in our very own brand new home. Dean was called as President of the BYU 5th Stake. I was called to the BYU 5th Stake Relief Society. Pete graduated from high school and went into the Army. I was devastated for a while because I wanted him to go on a mission first, but it turned out for the best this way. Pete returned home from the Army and started at the Y. He met a beautiful young girl, Jean Barnard, at the Y. She was not a Mormon. He was really getting serious with her when he was called on a mission to the Eastern States. He hesitated because he knew Jean would not wait for him. He had really tried to teach her the gospel and she was responding, that was a pull for him. However, he finally decided he would go on a mission. We loved receiving letters from Pete and feeling his growth in the church. We were so proud of him. Jeanie didn't wait for him, but she did join the church and marry in the temple which was a plus for Pete. I'm sure he knew he had been a good influence on her to join the church. I will always remember the day Pete walked back into our home after his mission. We knew he was to be released but had not heard just when he would be coming home. He and one of the other elders drove a car home for someone and surprised us. Sonja refused to know him. To her he was a picture on our stereo. It was wonderful to have him home again. This was March of 1963. It was this same month that Dean was called as Mission President to Norway. Dean and I were set apart - Dean by President David O. McKay and I by Henry D. Moyle. They gave us permission to take our whole family on the mission with us. We were to leave in August. Janet Lynne graduated from BY High School. She was chosen Homecoming Queen and was so excited and happy. She was really a beautiful queen with her sparkling tiara and her blue velvet robe with white fur finery. I remember the last night of her reign - she came home from the dance. She kept the robe and tiara on and just sat and thought about the whole experience. Her comment finally was "I wish I could live it all over again." We left for Norway in August of 1963. It was so nice that the whole family could be a part of this exciting, challenging experience. We flew to New York City and stayed for three days at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. There were three or four other mission presidents and families there with us. Then we sailed on Cunnard's SS Queen Elizabeth - Sonja called it the "lisbeth boat." We were on the water for five days - beautiful days, luxurious living for us. We debarked at South Hampton, England and took a train to London where we stayed for a couple of days, and then flew to Oslo, Norway arriving September 5, 1963. President and Sister Gunderson met us. Joseph Gunderson had welcomed Dean as his junior companion when Dean had arrived in Norway on his first mission. We had been friends all through the years. It was nice to have them there to guide our steps the first few days - and then they left and Dean was in charge. Our new home was the Norwegian Mission Home at Drammensveien 96 G; four stories high, a circular stairway (which frightened me a little with my three-year-old Sonja). We had a lovely, gracious lady as housekeeper and cook. Her name was Johanna Nordtvedt. She is a special spirit and we love her with all our hearts. Dean called Arne Bakken as his first counselor. It had taken this man 20 years after marrying a Mormon girl to join the Church. He had been baptized into the Church six years before. A very dignified, beautiful man he is. and he was by Dean's side for the three years Dean was there helping, counseling, supporting Dean all the way. His wife, Elsie, is a four-generation Mormon and so strong in the Church. I learned to love her and we traveled together with our husbands and became very close. I was very grateful for her. Before calling his second counselor (who was at that time a missionary chosen because of his ability to lead and his spirituality), Dean wanted to meet the missionaries. So we toured the mission and interviewed, visited, and felt their "pulse." We learned of each missionary's feelings, desires, and spirit. It was really a choice time and we were truly impressed with these beautiful missionaries. We toured the Land of the Midnight Sun in all its beauty with lakes reflecting all the colors of fall, such clean, well-kept homes and streets, and beautiful fields being harvested. It was a time of awe- ing and oh- ing for us. The people loved Dean and he was delighted to have returned to his old missionfield. The people seemed pleased with our family - each of us trying to "fit in." Pete and Janet were called as local missionaries. Pete left Oslo and went out with a companion south of Oslo to a town called "Halden." He knew the gospel and was anxious and excited to teach, but had the challenge of learning the Norwegian language. Pete learned the language and the people loved him, and he, in his own way, "loved" people into the Church. Dean called Janet to work in the office as a typist and then his secretary. Susan and Dolores (Chuckie) started school at a Norwegian High School - not English. They really had some challenges, but they did very well and we were very proud of them. As time went on both of them were called to Church positions. Susan was called to be a counselor in the YWMIA. It was very difficult because of the language - it would have been a challenge at 16-17 in that position at home, in Norway it was almost too much - but she came through. Chuckie taught in the Primary. My heart went out to these sweet but strong children of ours. My compassion was very strong for them - and I was so proud to see them accept the calls. They were truly missionaries. I wished I could be as good and do as well as they. Colleen was seven and was put in a Norwegian elementary school. The first few weeks were very hard for her, but she too came through with flying colors. She learned the language like a native. She gave talks in church and did so well everyone was charmed. She had the special experience of being baptized in Norway and she felt like I did. She said "I want the whole world to come to my baptism." She was proud to be a Mormon. Sonja watched out the window of Dean's office each morning to see Sister Nordtvedt get off the street car and then she would run downstairs to meet her at the front door. These two were very close - almost like grandmother-granddaughter ties. Sister Nordtvedt was 65 years old and had so much love in her heart - especially for Sonja and Colleen. Sonja learned Norwegian too - very well. The missionaries, Sister Nortvedt and her little friends were good teachers. For me, the language was a little harder to learn, but I truly tried. I tried at first to have someone translate - but decided that it was difficult to keep my mind on what I was wanting to say. I wrote my talks, had them translated and memorized them. That was much easier for me. As I practiced the talks I had Sonja and Colleen listen and help me with pronunciations which they did, but once in a while Sonja would giggle and say "Mommie you sound so funny." I traveled with Dean a great deal, spoke at district conferences in my own faltering Norwegian. I found the people very receptive and helpful. If I stumbled on a word they would say it for me. They always encouraged and buoyed me up even when I felt I hadn't done as well as I had wanted. The family traveled with us for special meetings at the branches and would give talks and sing. Dean's father died the first Christmas we were in Norway - only four months after we left to come on our mission. I felt so sad for Dean. He loved his father a great deal - as did I. It was difficult for Mom Peterson. Early in 1964, Dean and I wrote to Mom and invited her to come and visit us. She and Aunt Lucile (Dean's father's sister) came to Norway. They stayed about three months. We took them wherever we traveled - Bergen, Stavanger, Trondheim, and around the Oslo branches. They loved Norway and it really helped Mom Peterson through a rough time. They went with us to the London Temple, too, which was a real treat for all of us. We took a group of Norwegians to the temple. One of the most beautiful experiences we had was to watch our saints and their families be sealed for eternity. The joy on the faces of the people as they knelt at the altar as families, and the knowledge that they can be together for always is beautiful to see. My mother came for a short visit also. It is so special to be able to share with our moms the feeling of the mission, and the love of the saints. It wa very nice to be with our moms in this beautiful land of Norway. It is a special joy to watch our family grow strong in the church, to see them as missionaries - even at the tender ages of our sonja And Colleen - hear them give talks and teach others. Sonja and Colleen would say to their friends, "We are going to Primary. Do you want to come?" And hear the friends after visiting the Primary classes say, "I can't wait to tell Mother and Daddy all that I've learned today." Yes, this was a growing time for all of us, and again a time of realizing that when we returned home we would try harder to be special children of God. How can one write of three full beautiful, yet challenging and difficult years and do them justice, really express how you truly feel with each new situation. Those three years were full of spiritual and beautiful experiences of love and happiness, some sadness crept in to remind us that life is not always easy. And then all too soon it was time to bid farewell to Norway and our friends there and return home to Provo. Shortly after we returned from Norway a chartered plane brought many of our dear friends from Norway for conference and a visit into our home, special assemblies at the BYU to share, dinners and visiting. It was really wonderful to see them in Utah. One of these visitors was a Brother Freidel and his wife. He was a historian and had written a history of the Norwagian Mission. I mentioned to him one day when he was here that some of my people came from Norway. He asked to see my genealogy sheets and when he saw the name of Svend Larsen he told me, "Your great great grandfather, Svend Larsen, brought the first Mormon missionary to the Land of Norway!" He was delighted and so was I. I learned also that I was born on Svend Larsen's birthday, January 26, which is also special to me. It was wonderful to be back home and have our family reunited. Pete and Janet Lynne had left Norway before we did to come back to the Y. I am always happiest when the family is together. Dean was called to the Sunday School General Board and was enjoying that very much when he was called to be President of the BYU 7th Stake. He called Lee Valentine and Paul Cheesman to be his counselors. The wives always have the friendship and love of each other in the closeness of the Stake Presidency and this was no exception. Amy Valentine and I had been friends since our BYU student days and I felt very close to her. And Millie Cheesman is a person that "to know is to love." I have felt very close to her ever since. We were called to work together in the Relief Society. It was really nice to work together. Some short months later, Lee Valentine was in an automobile accident and died. Such sadness! It was a real shock. It isn't easy sometimes that "life goes on." Dean called Gregory Austin as his counselor. And Elida became one of us, too. Shortly after we returned home, Duane Bunnell asked me to work for him at Deseret Travel as an agent. Dean felt it would be helpful both financially to us and as a good experience for me - to work and learn a profession. So I became a travel agent. It was enjoyable but it was a challenge. My older girls were in college and we tried to work our schedules so that Sonja and Colleeen were not alone too much for too long. In 1967 both Janet and Susan surprised us by becoming engaged. Janet had met Philip Brown again at some Norwegian missionary parties. Philip was released from the Norwegian Mission at the same time Pete was. We were delighted that he and Janet had fallen in love. Susan met Mark Breinholt shortly after returning from our mission. She was 19 years old and it surprised us that she had fallen in love so early. Mark had been on a stateside mission and was about to graduate from BYU. Philip and Mark hit it off well and the four of them really had fun planning a double reception. Susan and Mark were married in the Manti Temple on June 2 and then went on a short honeymoon. Philip and Janet were married June 9 at the Salt Lake Temple and the reception for all four of them was on the evening of the 9th. Janet and Susan had always been so close and it just seemed right that they should share a reception. It was fun, it was huge, and it was beautiful! Then it was Pete's turn. He met Colleen Keith at BYU and fell in love. It had taken Pete all this time to find the right girl. And Colleen is the right girl for Pete. She is lovely, beautiful (I love her dimples), and a very choice child of God. Pete and Colleen were married in the Salt Lake Temple on December 5, 1968. We love Colleen. They found an apartment in Orem and we were so glad they were close by. The Vietnam war came and both Mark and Philip enlisted. Mark joined first and went to Georgia for training and then Philip six months later and he and Janet went to Columbus, Georgia just about the time Mark and Susan went on to Kansas City. I went to Columbus to be with Janet when their little daughter, Neena, was born. Mark shipped out for Vietnam and he was there when Susan delivered with their first son, Bradley. Susan was staying with us while Mark was gone. Then Philip shipped out and Janet and Susan got an apartment and they lived together with their babies until Mark came home. Janet came to live with us until Philip came home. It was a busy household and time flew. We were so grateful to see those two beautiful men return well and unharmed. Dean was called to be a Mission Representative to Norway and a Regional Representative to St. George, Utah. Those were Dean's two favorite places. I traveled with Dean to Norway once a year - he went four times a year. I drove with Dean to St. George when he felt he wanted or needed my company. My life with Dean has been so full and beautiful. I am very proud of him. How blessed I am to be his wife. I love him so. I was called to be MIA Young Women's President in our Oakhills Ward. It is enjoyable to be back in the ward - new types of challenges. I'm really busy and learning at the travel agency. Chuckie graduated from BYU. she missed graduation with her high school class because of our Norwegian mission, and she felt she just must have a diploma. Dean and I are so very proud of her. Graduation time we had three in caps and gown: Dean as a professor and administrator, Pete with his Masters and Chuckie with her Bachelors. How very special. Chuckie received a teaching contract in the Murray School District. Dean and Chuckie are so close now. They can talk on the same professional level. I admire her because she is such a lady and so lovely. November 1, 1973 Chuckie married James Allan Brown in the Salt Lake Temple and their reception was held at the Lion House. It was so special and beautiful, like them. Jimmy is a brother to Philip and so for a second time we stood in line with Grant and Darlene Brown. They are very special people. We know they love our daughters as much as we love their sons. We really have close ties with the Browns. With my work in travel, I received certain privileges. I can take my family on cruises for one-fourth fare. For our vacation in May of 1975 Colleen, Sonja, Dean and I went on a cruise for a week to Mexico. It was so relaxing and fun. We all loved it. The beaches at Mazatlan and Puerta Vallerta and the ship were superb. That is the way to vacation! It was fantastic and we were so glad we could share this together. In 1975 after a family trip to Hawaii, I became a little frustrated with Duane and his mother, Mildred. I had worked for them for nine years, and they didn't even tell me that when I returned I would be located in a crowded corner of an already too full room and someone else at my desk. They could have explained and I would have understood, but they didn't. I gave Duane my two-week notice. Dean said he would really be happy if I could find a job at the Y, and then we could be together more. I was offered a job in the travel department at the Y the first of August which gave me a couple of months to relax and be at home. Then out of the clear blue sky I received a telephone call from Garry Beesley of Murdock Travel in Salt Lake. He said they were opening up an office in Provo and asked me if I would be interested in working for them. Of course, I was. Garry made an appointment with me and said he and Tom Murdock, the new manager for the Provo branch, would come and pick me up, take me to lunch and show me the location and office. It was very enticing, and of course, I accepted. I started training in the Salt Lake Office about the 15th of June, and then our office opened July 1, 1975. Tom, Marilyn and I were the only ones there. Marilyn was familiar with the missionary program and she helped teach me. I was there as a travel counselor. It was great. Tom was so relaxed and easy to like and work for. The benefits of the job were great, too. Duane didn't have any at all so it was a great improvement. A month or so after I started to work there, Janet Berryessa applied and started to work. she and I had worked together at Duane's and it was fun to be working together again. Marilyn went back to the Salt Lake office. Dean was so glad I was working for Murdocks. I was so much happier in my work then I had been for some time. He also had insisted that I go to Utah Tech and learn how to drive. He felt so strongly about it, that I did. He was so patient with me and took me to the classes and picked me up. It was really wonderful to be able to drive a car and be a little independent. When I received my drivers license, Dean took me to Salt Lake and bought a car for me - a used car but a nice one. It was a Lamans. In May of 1976, Dean, Sonie and I went on another cruise. Colleen was involved with Folkdancers at the Y and decided to stay and perform with them. Dean really didn't feel very well. We were in hopes that getting away from tensions and work he would perk up, but he felt lousy. Sonja and I did things together. It was a fun trip, but our luggage was lost which really took a little pleasure out of it and we felt bad that Dean had not enjoyed it. The last of May Dean was feeling so terrible. He had lost so much weight and was just not himself. I went on a couple of regional meetings with him, and I would look at him up on the stand and wonder how he could possibly have the strength to give the talks. But he did and with so much spirit and power and strength he amazed me. He went to an internist, Dr. Lyman Moody, for an exam. Dr. Moody told him that he was too heavy and needed to exercise more. The last day in June he worked at the Y all day and when he came home some friends of ours were here, Bus and Kay Anderson. We talked about how Dean felt and Kay said she thought he should go to a doctor. Dean said he didn't know who could help him. Kay called a cousin of hers who is also an internist in Salt Lake and made an appointment for the next day. His name is Dr. Alan MacFarlane. He was in a cllinic, and she felt a group of doctors should surely be able to find the problem. I went with Dean. He was given a thorough examination, tests, x-rays, and then sent to the hospital lab for liver and bone scans. While we were at the lab, Dr. MacFarlane called and told Dean to check into the hospital and he would come over later. All that Fourth of July weekend tests were run, and then we got the word. Dean had Cancer. We couldn't believe it. Dr. Moody had been so caught up in Dean's sugar diabetes which he's had for fifteen years or so, he looked no further. President Kimball came to the hospital and gave Dean a blessing. I was not in the hospital at the time and have felt a loss ever since. Dean said that President Kimball went right to his bed and embraced and kissed him. He told Dean what a special man Dean was, that the Lord loved him and was aware of his goodness and the fine life he had lived. He said, "the day of miracles is not over except for those who have no faith." He told Dean to have faith. What a special experience for Dean - for all of us. It gave us hope although he did not promise Dean would get well. Dean came home, but he didn't ever feel well enough to go back to work. We took him every week for chemotherapy in Salt Lake. He grew weaker and weaker. He had suffered so, and it was difficult for us to watch him dwindle away to nothing. October 1, 1976 we put Dean back in the hospital here in Provo. Dr. Dean Packer was kind enough to take his case. Dr. Packer told us he would live only three or four days longer. We called the family together. On the morning of October 4, about 6 a.m., Dean asked for Pete to come and give him a blessing and dedicate him to the Lord. I called Pete and all the family, and we stood by Dean's bed and Pete blessed his Dad and dedicated him to the Lord. Dean's amen was the strongest one voiced. It was but moments after that he died - October 4, 1976. I didn't cry much, I couldn't. I tried not to think. I only existed. I went through the days in a dream world. I was glad he didn't need to suffer any more, but I didn't want him to be gone. I loved this beautiful man so much. He and the children were my whole world - and now what? Somehow I had to go on. I was grateful I had Colleen and Sonja still at home to fill my thoughts. These two precious girls needed their father so much, and I had to somehow fill in for Dean as well as try to guide them. Dean and I were both very concerned for them and our constant prayers were that they would make the right decisions and realize how precious the gospel is and how important it can be in their lives. I was grateful I had my work. It kept me busy and my thoughts off myself. As much as I enjoyed my work, however, I thought many times that perhaps Colleen and Sonja would have felt closer to us if I had been at home more! Hindsight! How painful it is, and it makes me feel guilty and angry with myself. If I had not worked, would things have been different??? In 1977 a stake was organized in Norway. I took Colleen and Sonja to Norway for it. This was the first they had been back since we left in 1966. We visited so many of our friends. Of course, Sister Nordtvedt was one of the first Sonja and Colleen wanted to see. Colleen's school friend, Berit Ranum, was another. They had been so close. It was all so special to us. The conference was wonderful! I was impressed and happy with the leaders who were called to be in the stake prsidency, bishoprics, high council. Surprisingly (and yet not) it was mostly the young men who were called. How very special to see these young men become such stalwarts. We had seen some of them as teenagers growing up in the church, youth missionaries who had had some wonderful experiences side by side with the full-time missionaries who served under Dean. Now these were the fine young men called to the first stake in Norway. Some were converts who were very strong. Some were born in the church and had grown strong and steady in the gospel. This stake was something Dean and I had dreamed about, prayed for, encouraged and saints and missionaries to become strong for! I'm sure Dean was there and was as happy, proud and grateful as I. On September 17, 1977 Colleen and Craig Bennett were married at home. Dean's brother, Elden, who was a bishop in Bountiful, performed the marriage. Colleen and Craig had dated all through high school and were very much in love. Craig's family all helped get the yard ready for the reception. It was beautiful and the ceremony and reception were lovely. I feel sure that in time Colleen and Craig will be sealed in the temple. Both Dean and I were given promises in special blessings by Boyd Packer that all of our children will be with us eternally, that not one shall be lost. This is a promise I cling to. I know I must do my part, live close to the Lord, be a good example, and a teacher without pressure. I must gently, but firmly show them, lead them. It must be their own desire and decision. August 2, 1978 Sonja and Timothy Peay were also married at home. Again Elden officiated. It was a very beautiful ceremony and reception. However, it was difficult for me to have Sonja marry Tim because he was not a member of the LDS Church. Sonja and I have become even closer. We're friends and enjoy doing things together which I definitely need in my life. Although Colleen and Sonja were not married in the temple, Dean was promised in his blessing when he was set apart as a regional representative by Elder Boyd K. Packer and repeated in a blessing which Elder Packer gave to me after Dean's death, that "all of our children will be with us eternally and that not one shall be lost." Somehow Brother Packer's promise can and will be made possible if only I can be strong and humble enough. With my faith - and I acknowledge again my responsibility in fulfilling MY part - and with the Lord's help and with Dean holding my hand eternally, we will see it fulfilled. Sonja and Tim have had a struggle to stay together - finances mostly. Tim's job as derrick hand, driller - whatever, whenever - pays well but is insecure. He's in and out of work. Timothy Dean was born April 13, 1979 and Derrik James was born July 25, 1980. Derrik was tiny and had a rough time healthwise. Then when he was 11 months old he fell in a small plastic swimming pool and almost drown. What a sad, traumatic experience that was. I was at work when Sonja called me, her voice screaming into my ear, "He's dead. Mom please come. I don't know what to do!" I had clients, but I found someone to take them and I drove as fast as I could. Paramedics were working over Derrik - his tiny body so frail and lifeless. Sonja went in the ambulance with Derrik. I called Pete and then we drove to the hospital. The doctors and nurses worked on him for what seemed like an eternity. Dr. Steven Minton was his doctor. As the family all sat in one of the little waiting rooms at the emergency section of the hospital, Dr. Minton came in three times to let Sonja and Tim know what was being done, how Derrik was. Each time he said, "Derrik is dead - technically. We are waiting for when all signs of life are gone." Then he came in again and said, "Please don't get your hopes up, but there is a tiny spot of pink on his cheek. With your permission we will admit him to the intensive care ward and give him life lines and see if he responds." Derrik was in a coma for days. Max and Guy Berryessa gave him a blessing. Tim's priest also was there and prayed for him. Nurses and interns hovered over him. We waited and watched this tiny little quiet body. Not a move. But one thing for sure, he was given blessing after blessing. Every time we had to priesthood holders visiting at a time, he was blessed. One of the male nurses assigned to Derrik asked to bring his bishop and bless him. And then he moved - a finger, a toe - just a little. I spent as much time before going to work and after as I could at the hospital to spell sonja and Tim off so they could get some rest. I'll never forget the day Derrik opened his eyes and smiled. There were a few traumatic, frustrating things that took place. Tim's alertness saved Derrik one day as he sat by the bed. A nurse was going to put some medicine through one of the life lines. Tim stoped her and told her to check the line that it was the wrong one. She was indignant, but she did check. Tim was right. Had the medicine gone into the wrong line it could have been disastrous. Then Derrik was put in another section of the hospital for a few days and then released. Derrik is our miracle boy. He's now four years old and he is so quick it's hard to keep up with him. The stress was really hard on Sonja and Tim. they were burdened with such an overwhelming debt, they came to live with me. Tim's work took him away a good part of the time. Sonja was working at Elliot's Restaurant to try to help. Then she found work as a checker at Albertsons Supermarket. Recently Sonja and Tim found a home to buy. Now I am alone in my big house again. Early in 1984 Tim was injured on the oir rig where he was working. A heavy chain fell on his back and foot causing a broken pelvis, crushed foot, and damaged discs in his back. Because of the seriousness of the injuries he was unable to return to work. In 1980 Mother began having little heart attacks or strokes. She was going to the hospital every three months. She became so confused with each trip to the hospital. She was living with Bea. The children and I had tried to visit or have Mom visit here as often as possible. Bea called me finally and asked me to come down again. She asked me to consider putting Mom in a convalescent home. Bea put Mom in a Center that was more like a hospital. The doctors told Bea she wouldn't live more than a couple of weeks at the most. She was quite a distance from Bea and visits were weekly. We decided that we should bring mother to Utah and have her here - her home. I flew to California again and brought Mom with me. The California Convalescent Center would not release Mother to me unless I found a place here since her health was so fragile and she needed constant care. The flight was delayed, and we didn't get to Provo until too late to put Mother in the Central Utah Convalescent Center so Susan and I brought her home and watched over her the whole night long. Mom was so confused and wakeful, and we had a difficult time keeping her on the bed. The girls and I went every day to be with Mother. We would take turns holding her up and helping her walk up and down the corridors until she was strong enough to walk by herself. She responded to having family around her and seemed to have a will to live. We would bring her home on Saturdays and take her back on Sunday afternoons. On special holidays we had her with us. Christmas was fun. The whole family came home and it was special to have Mother with us. Then Mom fell and broke her hip and she was back in the hospital again. When she recovered from that she could not walk and the nurses would tie her in her bed or in a chair. She would try to get up, and we were afraid she would fall again. I bought her a wheelchair - the nicest, softest, most comfortable one I could find. She has to be tied in that, too, or she'd pull herself out of the chair. But she seems to be happiest when she is free to propell herself around the halls at the Center. She doesn't know us. She often calls me Sadie, her sister's name, so I am at least a part of the family in her very muddled existence. Bea was called on a mission to Houston, Texas, for one year and for a time I feared Mother would be gone before Bea came home. But Bea has returned and Mother is still alive. These past two years have been so hard for me to see her unable to walk, or do anything really. Mother was such an independent, busy person, always on the go. I have tried bringing her home every weekend, then every other, then just on Sundays. But it has become too difficult to try to carry her in and out of the house, or pull the wheelchair up my steps to get in the house, only to take her back again. There seems to be little purpose since she is happier where she has more room to go. So now that has stopped. We see her as often as we can, but not for long. It's usually just for a kiss, a squeeze and an "I love you," and then a hurried departure with tears and a feeling of not being able to quite cope with a hard situation. Mom celebrated her 93rd birthday March 10, 1984. Pete and Colleen, Janet Lynne and some of her children and I went out to be with her. We took presents, a cake, a birthday bouquet of flowers and balloons. but she wasn't really with us. she's lived such a good life. I often wonder what holds her here. Is it fear? Maybe of what she'll find when she leaves? Will Daddy be there to welcome her with open arms? I know Tom will be. Mother is the only member of her famiy still living so her famiy will be there to welcome her. But until that strong little heart of hers stops beating, I'll try to let her feel my love and concern for her. I am 67 years old and I retired from Murdock Travel on September 1, 1984. Since retiring I have finished enbroidering a Norwegian Telemark bunad (national costume). In October I flew to Europe and took the bunad to a Telemark bunad shop to be sewn together. It has taken two years to complete this costume. It is beautiful and I am very proud of it. I feel happy and fulfilled to have completed this project. It means so much and ties into Dean's and my sweet memories of Norway. The girls and I have just had our pictures taken in the bunad. It is special, not just for me, but for all of my family - an heirloom. I want all of my children to enjoy it. I have 29 (soon 30) grandchildren: Erlend and Colleen have six children: Kristin, Sheri, Deborah, Deanne, Rebecca, and finally a boy, Andrew Erlend Peterson - the one little grandson to carry on the Peterson name. Janet and Philip have six children: Neena, Kari, Michael, Helene, Paul and Steven. Susan and Mark have eight children: Bradley, Stephen, Charles, Emily, Aimee, Kenneth, Rebecca, and Elizabeth. Dolores and Jim have four boys: Scott, Sam, Mark and Peter. Colleen and Craig have two little girls: Amber and Megan (and another child on the way). Sonja and Tim have three children: Timothy, Derrik and Desiree. Since Dean died I have been teaching in the ward Relief Society. I taught the Social Relations lessons for two or three years, the Mother Education for a couple of years, and then the Spiritual Living lessons. I know I have learned more than anyone else during this teaching time and have loved having the challenge and opportunity. As I reflect on my life I have two major treasures - my family and my religion. My life is still full and as happy as it can be without Dean. I think about Dean a great deal and our lives together. Dean always wanted me right by him. He made me feel so loved and close. I still feel that way - like I can reach out and he will take my hand. We had a beautiful life together. Our family is choice and beautiful. Each child is very special. They are my whole life. I have such a need to know that they are well and happy. No two people could have had more joy and fulfillment from their family than Dean and I. I love being with my family and seeing them together. They love being together, working, playing, taking on projects, helping each other, gathering around the piano and singing, and just being happy. Where and when I can I want to be very much a part of that. My religion has been the very center of my life. It has been a guide, it has given me strength, it has given me peace of mind, it has given me answers to the unknown, it has given me joy and happiness, and, most of all, it has given me the promise of heavenly parents under whose love and direction I will be able to have my family forever. In addition to my expression of love to my children, I want them to know that I have a very strong testimony of the truthfulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that true happiness comes from living the principles of the Gospel. I hope and pray with all of my heart that each one of my children will find the same joy and knowledge which Dean and I have had in obeying our Father's teachings.

EXPERIENCES FROM THE LIFE OF LYLE EVANS - by Janet Peterson Brown

Contributor: tnmbrown Created: 3 months ago Updated: 3 months ago

EXPERIENCES FROM THE LIFE OF LYLE EVANS One thing that affected her very much was that her parents were divorced when she was a young girl. She was eleven years old. She writes of that time: “There wasn’t anything I could do for Mom to help that ache in her heart - that hurt that I’m sure she had knowing Dad just walked out on us – wondering what she had done to deserve such agony. Her nightly sobs broke my heart. She was so lovely and sweet. WHY? WHY? I couldn’t understand why Daddy would do such a thing, but I love him so. She took her four children (ages 2 to 11) from Provo, Utah to Tehran, Iran alone [as her husband had to leave ahead of her], and then to Germany for six months during a political coup. She said, “Our experiences in Iran taught us many things: How much we love our country and the freedoms we have in America. How very much we take for granted everyday things like turning on a tap to get a drink of water and drinking it without worry of illness, eating foods without a thought of disinfecting for safeguard of health. How very nice it is to be home near family members and friends. How choice it is to go to conference (or even listen to it on the radio) and hear the General Authorities. How nice to go to church without first having to clear with the police. All these, and many more, had become very precious to us. These experiences had been very good for us because we were stronger for having had them.” When on their mission to Norway she said, “For me, the language was a little harder to learn, but I truly tried. I traveled with Dean a great deal, spoke at district conferences in my own faltering Norwegian. I found the people very receptive and helpful. If I stumbled on a word they would say it for me. They always encouraged and buoyed me up even when I felt I hadn’t done as well as I had wanted.” Lyle didn’t have a driver’s license until she was in her late 50s. Of that she said, “[Dean] insisted that I go to Utah Tech and learn how to drive. He felt so strongly about it, that I did. He was so patient with me and took me to the classes and picked me up. It was really wonderful to be able to drive a car and be a little independent. When I received my driver’s license, Dean took me to Salt Lake and bought a car for me – a used car but a nice one. It was a [Pontiac] Lamans.” What a blessing that was to her to be able to drive when just a short time later her husband was diagnosed with lung cancer and died. That was a great trial. She said, “I loved this beautiful man so much. He and the children were my whole world.” Early in her marriage she said, “I loved being a mother, keeping our apartment clean, and cooking.” And toward the end of her life she said, “I have two major treasures – my family and my religion. My life is still full and as happy as it can be without Dean. He made me feel so loved and close…. I love being with my family and seeing them together…. I have such a need to know that they are well and happy… I know that true happiness comes from living the principles of the Gospel.” She passed away October 18, 1995.

Life timeline of Lyle Peterson (Evans)

Lyle Peterson (Evans) was born on 26 Jan 1917
Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 13 years old when The New York Stock Exchange crashes in what will be called the Crash of '29 or "Black Tuesday", ending the Great Bull Market of the 1920s and beginning the Great Depression. The New York Stock Exchange, is an American stock exchange located at 11 Wall Street, Lower Manhattan, New York City, New York. It is by far the world's largest stock exchange by market capitalization of its listed companies at US$21.3 trillion as of June 2017. The average daily trading value was approximately US$169 billion in 2013. The NYSE trading floor is located at 11 Wall Street and is composed of 21 rooms used for the facilitation of trading. A fifth trading room, located at 30 Broad Street, was closed in February 2007. The main building and the 11 Wall Street building were designated National Historic Landmarks in 1978.
1929
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Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 23 years old when World War II: Nazi Germany and Slovakia invade Poland, beginning the European phase of World War II. World War II, also known as the Second World War, was a global war that lasted from 1939 to 1945, although conflicts reflecting the ideological clash between what would become the Allied and Axis blocs began earlier. The vast majority of the world's countries—including all of the great powers—eventually formed two opposing military alliances: the Allies and the Axis. It was the most global war in history; it directly involved more than 100 million people from over 30 countries. In a state of total war, the major participants threw their entire economic, industrial, and scientific capabilities behind the war effort, blurring the distinction between civilian and military resources. World War II was the deadliest conflict in human history, marked by 50 to 85 million fatalities, most of whom were civilians in the Soviet Union and China. It included massacres, the genocide of the Holocaust, strategic bombing, premeditated death from starvation and disease and the only use of nuclear weapons in war.
1939
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Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 28 years old when World War II: German forces in the west agree to an unconditional surrender. The German Instrument of Surrender ended World War II in Europe. The definitive text was signed in Karlshorst, Berlin, on the night of 8 May 1945 by representatives of the three armed services of the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (OKW) and the Allied Expeditionary Force together with the Supreme High Command of the Red Army, with further French and US representatives signing as witnesses. The signing took place 9 May 1945 at 00:16 local time.
1945
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Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 41 years old when Space Race: Launch of Sputnik 1, the first artificial satellite to orbit the Earth. The Space Race refers to the 20th-century competition between two Cold War rivals, the Soviet Union (USSR) and the United States (US), for dominance in spaceflight capability. It had its origins in the missile-based nuclear arms race between the two nations that occurred following World War II, aided by captured German missile technology and personnel from the Aggregat program. The technological superiority required for such dominance was seen as necessary for national security, and symbolic of ideological superiority. The Space Race spawned pioneering efforts to launch artificial satellites, uncrewed space probes of the Moon, Venus, and Mars, and human spaceflight in low Earth orbit and to the Moon.
1957
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Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 48 years old when Martin Luther King Jr. received the Nobel Peace Prize for combating racial inequality through nonviolence. Martin Luther King Jr. was an American Baptist minister and activist who became the most visible spokesperson and leader in the civil rights movement from 1954 until his death in 1968. Born in Atlanta, King is best known for advancing civil rights through nonviolence and civil disobedience, tactics his Christian beliefs and the nonviolent activism of Mahatma Gandhi helped inspire.
1964
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1977
Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 60 years old when Star Wars is released in theaters. Star Wars is a 1977 American epic space opera film written and directed by George Lucas. It is the first film in the original Star Wars trilogy and the beginning of the Star Wars franchise. Starring Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Peter Cushing, Alec Guinness, David Prowse, James Earl Jones, Anthony Daniels, Kenny Baker, and Peter Mayhew, the film focuses on the Rebel Alliance, led by Princess Leia (Fisher), and its attempt to destroy the Galactic Empire's space station, the Death Star.
1977
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Lyle Peterson (Evans) was 72 years old when The tanker Exxon Valdez spilled 10.8 million US gallons (260,000 bbl; 41,000 m3) of oil into Prince William Sound, Alaska, causing one of the most devastating man-made maritime environmental disasters. A tanker is a ship designed to transport or store liquids or gases in bulk. Major types of tankship include the oil tanker, the chemical tanker, and gas carrier. Tankers also carry commodities such as vegetable oils, molasses and wine. In the United States Navy and Military Sealift Command, a tanker used to refuel other ships is called an oiler but many other navies use the terms tanker and replenishment tanker.
1989
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Lyle Peterson (Evans) died on 18 Oct 1995 at the age of 78
BillionGraves.com
Grave record for Lyle Peterson (Evans) (26 Jan 1917 - 18 Oct 1995), BillionGraves Record 26085 Provo, Utah, Utah, United States

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