Myron J. Dye

1 Oct 1904 - 31 Mar 2000

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Myron J. Dye

1 Oct 1904 - 31 Mar 2000
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Grave site information of Myron J. Dye (1 Oct 1904 - 31 Mar 2000) at Firth Cemetery in Firth, Bingham, Idaho, United States from BillionGraves

Life Information

Myron J. Dye


Firth Cemetery

601-699 E 750 N
Firth, Bingham, Idaho
United States

Headstone Description



June 8, 2012


June 17, 2014


June 1, 2012

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Life Memories of Myron Jon Dye Jr. written by Jon Feb. 1995

Contributor: TreeClimber Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

The late Fall morning was cold and the trees glistened with the touch of frost that had settled on their branches in the cold night air. The smoke from the chimneys of the few houses around curled up into the sky like a feather playing in the cool October wind, that had blown through the Southeastern Idaho valley during the night. In the air could be heard the soft mooing of the cows on the farms as their masters began the morning chores and preparation for the morning milking. The United States was in the highteh of the worst depression in its history and work was very hard to come by. Many worked at menial jobs for as little as 15 cents per hour and that was the going wage in the spud houses of Firth where Myron and Lucy Dye lived and labored this cold October morning. Myron worked for Bill Wilson who owned spud houses and ran several farms around the valley and Myron was one of Bill's best workers. The best that a helper on the farms could hope for in the way of pay was $30 a month. But Myron and Lucy eked out a modest living by hard work enough to raise their five children, with one on the way. Myron and Lucy Dye were living Southeast of the little farming town of Firth. Grandpa Walter Dye had moved this small home in a few years earlier and Myron and Lucy with their five children were living in it. It was just down the hill and to the North of Grandpa Dye's old home. (Where Melba and Lyle Staples home in now.) The previous night had been full of worry as Lucy had begun labor, and being only seven months along the night had been long and tiresome. Their worry was that at seven months along if the baby came now according to the doctor the child would not survive, she had to wait at least one more month. The labor continued and the decision was made that they must go for help. Their usual practice of having the babies at a local birthing home in Shelley called Eatons, would not at all do now because of the seriousness of the early labor. So they had been directed to the Idaho Falls L.D.S. hospital. Myron never left his wife's side the entire night, he held her hand and wiped her brow with only devotion that a husband so much in love could give to the most valuable possession he had. After spending the day in labor finally the news came that they would have to deliver the baby and that it did not look good. Both Myron and Lucy continued praying for help from their Heavenly Father. So in the evening hours of October 25, 1942 (my birth certificate says 9:21 p.m.) a tiny baby boy was born not very large and very frail. The doctor who delivered me is listed as, H. L. Schiess of Shelley, Idaho. As a matter of interest Dad's age is listed as 38 and his occupation as a trucker. Mother's age is listed as 36. The whole birthing process left Lucy very weak and sick. Which immediately put the doctors on alert as she began having problems with the circulation of blood in her legs. The doctors biggest fear was that they might just loose both the baby and the mother. Through the night they worked nurse after nurse, doctor consultation after consultation. The blood in Lucy's legs began to turn black and the Doctors were afraid that Milk Leg would set in. And during those days it was forbidden for new mothers to get out of bed at least for 4 or 5 days. But Lucy's stay in the hospital would be between two and three weeks, not only for the pre-mature baby boy but to save her life as well, as Milk Leg had set in. I have been told hundreds of times by mother how hard the delivery was and how we almost died. But she always told me how Dad stayed by her side as constant as he possibly could. Yes that tiny little baby was me, Jon Dye. As my brothers always pointed up to me they threw away the baby and kept me, the afterbirth. I was but a tiny baby fresh out of the hospital when Grandma Jensen fell, breaking her hip and the decision was made for Mom and Dad to go and live with her to help her out, as she was bed fast and needed the help. My grand-father Jensen died of a combination of the flu epidemic and mastoidosus the 22 April, 1920, leaving grandma a widow with 6 children. We lived with grandma for a year. This would have been during the years of 1943-44. Just less than three months after I was born on January 22, 1943 Grandma Dye passed away. All my life I have had this vision in the back of my mind, I remember this older lady holding me and talking to me, I cannot see her face but her voice is very clear. I sometimes wonder if it was Grandma Dye, I remember it being in the house across the street from the old Firth Grade School which was Uncle William Dye's house. After living with grandma Jensen we moved to the Old Ball place as we called it. This is where I have the real only memory that I can remember. In those days we had the old wooden outhouses out behind the house, and come summer or winter that is what we used come rain or shine or light or the darkness of midnight. I remember well times walking out there in the middle of the night, scared to death and usually Lary was with me but he didn't help much he got lots of fun out of scaring the life out of me. I do remember having to use the pages of the Sears catalog as toilet paper. I also remember how cold it was to sit down on the old wooden toilet seat, I can still remember the cold wind blowing down under and how fast you would go to the bathroom, so you would not get frost bit. And during the winter months the wind would just howl through the night. So just imagine how cold it would be. The old Ball place was out in the country where I guess I acquired my love of the smell of the country. I remember that Sand Creek was just a short distance from our home and I used to go there and walk and just lay in the weeds and smell the aura of the weeds and the alfalfa that grew in the fields next to it. I don't know how many hours I would just lay there and imagine all sorts of things. I think this must have been where I cultivated my imagination and let to go wild. I remember times when laying there in the hay field, when it was young and green it would make every sense of your body come alive. I would be laying there with the beautiful blue sky above and as I lay there these beautiful white puffy clouds would just drift on by. Hours I would lay there and watch those clouds and I vividly remember how the summer breeze would make the hay weave back and fourth and the smells of the dirt and the hay and the weeds along the canal would make my nose tingle with the sense of smelling them. I also remember the low sound of the breeze as it rustled through the deep green hay. Then suddenly a bee or a fly would appear over me, with their wings going a million miles a minute, as I lay there and their sounds just helped me to relax and often drift in and out of sleep. What wonderful times those were, no stress, no worries just the beauty of nature through sight, sound and smell. And, oh, I can't forget the taste of that fresh hay so full of life and taste. It was so good to just lay there with a stem of it in my mouth and chew its through my teeth and taste that wild piece of Nature. Across the street and to the west a little was a family who was very poor just like us. I remember them so well, they had two boys who were just my age {one a little older, I don't remember which one} but one of them became by best friend. Their names were Jacky and Dicky. I believe Jacky was my friend. Anyway I remember playing with him all the time. Running through the fields, swimming in the old Cedar point canal and he's the one who got me interested in stamp collecting and coin collecting. In fact I still have the stamp album he gave me all those years ago. The love of stamps and coins is still with me to this day. It was during these days in 1946 that Grandma Jensen was taken away in death. 7 March, 1946 she died and sadly to say I have no recollection of her. Thus, I grew up not knowing the love of a Grandmother. Sometimes I feel cheated because the only grandparent I was to know during this life was Grandpa Dye. And anybody who knew Grandpa he was not one to show much affection. However I do have some memories I will tell of later on in this history. In 1947 Mom and Dad sold the old Ball place and built the family home in Firth. The only memory I have of this time is a remembrance of my riding my tricycle on the cement floor of the unfinished house around and around while I could look up and see my Dad pounding nails into the roof. I remember how scared it made me to think of him way up there and that he might fall. My mother and brothers carried all the cement for that entire house in wheel burrows. I can still feel the devastation in my body today at the thought, when the time came, for us to leave the old Ball place and leave my friends Jacky and Dicky behind. I guess I was to young to realize they were only a couple of miles away and that they would play an important part of more of my young years. But at the time I didn't realize it for I cried for days until Dad took me back to show me how close they lived. Then one day Jacky walked into Firth to play with me and I realized the separation wasn't forever. Firth, I believe was one of the smallest towns in Bingham County, Idaho. But to me it was home. As you drove by the town sign it said population 330 for years. I don't think it ever got more than that. This is where I grew up and this was the Ideal way of life, as I knew no other. It was situated right in the middle of the fertile farming valley of southeastern Idaho with the mighty Snake River winding its way down the valley. And the waters from the great Snake made the fertile dirt of the valley very rich and the potato's that Idaho is famous for was grown here in abundance. Being a rural area I grew up knowing the quietness of night, the beauty of a quick ride up to Wolverine to fish or picnic, or the dust from the farmers tractors digging deep into the soil of the valley. I grew up with the smells of the farms and sounds of crickets at night or even an eventual barking of a dog far off in the distance. The sounds of the cows and even horses could be heard as I would often lay outside and stare up into the everlasting sky with its millions of stars. Many times this being my lullaby and drift off to sleep in the cool evenings. I was told by my mother and other siblings that when I was a toddler one of their biggest jobs was keeping me out of the coals of the family kitchen stove. My parents being poor and the depression not helping any, did all their cooking on the old kitchen wood stove. This was their main heating and cooking implement in their home. I remember it being big and black, and on the left side was a tank where water was stored for it to make hot water. According to family sources they say I loved to eat the coals of this old wood stove. They said my main eating was coals and Pepsi. I don't recall how long they said I lived on this meal, but it must have been quite a while. One of my early memories is when Dad would go and help grandpa Dye milk the cows and do the chores I would often accompany him. I can't say that I loved the smell of the barn yard as we would approached the huge building but once we were in the barn smells of hay and the rest of the farm was very fragrant to me. I remember during those early days when they had to milk the cows by hand it was rather strange to me. I remember Dad sitting there on the three legged stool milking the cow, and it never failed the cow would flip Dad with its tail and Dad would cuss and flip the tail out of the way. I remember him even tying something heavy on the end of the tail but she flipped it and hit Dad boy did cuss words ever erupt. I don't know if the cow survived the beating he gave her that night. I used to love to have a glass of warm milk fresh from the cow, but now it kind of turns my stomach but back then it was the greatest. Even one night Dad tried to squirt me in the mouth with the fresh milk but I don't believe we got much in the mouth Dad missed the target all over me. One of the smells I remember well is the smell of Grandpa Dye's back porch. This is where he stored the milk and his milk separator was there. It was kind of putrid and I didn't like it much. But it is one of the smells I remember most about my childhood. I remember grandpa had a grainery, it was small but always full of grain to feed the animals. My cousins and I used to love to sneak into it and eat the fresh wheat from the fields. If you got enough in your mouth and chewed it enough it would make some kind of gum that we loved to chew. I also remember the many times we were scared out of the grainery either by grandpa or by a mouse that happened to live there. I also remember that on the North side of grandpa's barn was a tripod sort of lift that they would use to lift heavy hay. We used to love to get on the end of the long wire at the end and run and swing way out on it. Also right there close by was our secret hide out. We had dug into the side of the hill a great hole, then roofed it with big logs and straw then dirt. Entrance was by a tiny hole we had to drag ourselves through but once inside it was great. It was cool in the summer and just enough light got through to be able to lay there and read or talk. I remember reading lots of the "Big Little Books" there. If I had those books now they would be worth a fortune. Many times during those adventurous rendevous we would sneak down into grandpa's orchard and help ourselves to as many apples as we could eat or carry back to our hideout. I remember many times being scolded for getting into the orchard. But you know what, he had a tree of sweet crab apples that was the greatest, and to this day I would give a fortune for a taste of those apples again. I have never been able to find any that tasted as good as those. My favorite Aunt on my Dad's side lived just on the North of grandpa's orchard. She was Aunt Melba Staples, and sometimes I'll bet she felt like she had another son because most of the summer days I was there playing with her children. They were my very best friends in growing up. There was Linda, Virginia (Ginger), and Terry, Virgina being the same age as I and Linda one year older. We were inseparable during the summer. The fondest memories I have were gleamed at their home. There was the day long swimming at the bridge that crossed the canal across from their home. We would spend day after day swimming, diving, ducking and just plain fun. We used to go to the other side of the bridge, jump off and swim under the bridge. Now this is not a bridge like we have today, it was a small wooden bridge that was just built about six inches above the water and sometimes the water was splashing into the big logs that held the bridge up. To think of any of my children doing this would make me shudder. But did we have fun! The only time I almost drowned was when I was swimming on my back across the canal and a water snake swam over my stomach, I think I spent more time on the bottom of the canal at that time than the whole 10 years we swam there. I also remember a few times we even went swimming in the buff, thank heavens no one ever found out. I have to admit feelings of fear of getting caught but it was exciting. Usually after about four hours of swimming we would get hungry so off to Aunt Melba's we would go. Our favorite was Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches. Oh how we loved those and were they ever good. I think sometimes we must have eaten Aunt Melba out of house and home but she never complained or ever made me feel like I was not one of her own. Usually in the afternoon's we would follow the canal further South where there was a water floom and this was one of our favorite places too. It was higher off the water and we would jump into the water off it and play like we were dead. We would time each other and see how long we could hold our breath under the water. This flume was on the property of an aunt of my Dad's (Blanche Mecham, she is an aunt on the Croft side) and usually we had to sneak down there because they didn't like us playing around it because of the danger. We had a club house just north of the bridge over the canal. It was in an old abandoned spud cellar, made out of huge logs which as old as they were now sagging and he dirt and straw was falling through. It was a creepy place but to us it was adventure! Many a plan of devilishness was made there. There was also a club house we had in an old tumble down house at the jog of the road. We dug down under the old house and I remember playing there. Several times during the summer Grandpa Dye would flood his fields with water and I think one of the most fun things we ever were able to do was to was to go swimming in these fields. The water would get warm and that was a good contrast between the canal as it was very cold. We had more fun running through the water in the fields and sliding. The only drawbacks were that the water got very yellow and quite often we would slide into cow-pies or other unmentionables. Of course at that time we didn't let it bother us, when we got dirty all we would do is run to the canal and jump into that cold, cold water. But it did the trick, we came out clean, well as clean as we could out of a green watered canal. I have a lot of memories walking to Gingers house, it was about 1-2 miles from home. I remember during the summer I would stop and eat "Milkweed" on the way, I just loved the taste of it, then I would play the game of kicking the rock to see how far I could make it before I lost or got tired. Now these walks to Aunt Melba's during the winter was a different story. Anybody who has lived in Idaho during the winter has missed an experience. The snow used to come down so thick you could not see in front of you, then the wind would start up and by the time it was through blowing the snowdrifts were up to the tops of the light poles. I remember many times walking down that buried road when the snow drifts were at least 15 - 20 ft. tall. I was warned all through my youth to never touch or go near those poles that were just barely sticking up out of the snow drifts. In those days it was fun, and I mean fun. We had more fun sliding down the drifts or burrowing into the drift for an igloo. Seriously thinking back though, these were the choice times of my childhood and ones I'll not ever forget. The love I grew to have for my Aunt Melba and my cousins Virgina and Linda and their brother Terry. I had other friends in my youth but I think they were my best friends in growing up. One of the earliest remembrances of my early childhood was the I was babysitting for Gerald and Betty. I think it must have been about 1949 and I was still quite young. They needed to go to a ward function and they lived in Goshen. I'm sure they thought everything would be all right because the church was just down the street but all I can remember is standing in their doorway just crying at the top of my lungs: "Gerald, Betty, Gerald, Betty" and just whopping it up, to my knowledge I don't know if Sherry even knew there was anything wrong. But I was sure scared. It was to be part of my fate throughout my childhood to be babysitter for most of my nephews and nieces. In many ways this was the best thing for me as I was the last child and my brothers and sister were much older than I so it was my nephew and nieces that I grew up with as brothers and sisters. We played we cried we got into mischief and all together we kind of grew up together. All through my life I considered them a very important part of my life and I really missed them when they grew away from me and I just became an Uncle who lived in Provo to them. The last part of my life was very lonesome because my foster brothers and sisters were no longer there to help fill my life with the fun that we had experienced during our early life in childhood. Or to have the close relationship which we had developed over the years. I now know what parents feel like when their children desert them and they have to learn to live without that relationship, because to me my relationship with my nephews and nieces meant that much to me. My early schooling began at the Riverview Grade School. Being a rural area children for miles around were bused in to certain schools. Grades 1 through 4 were at the Riverview Grade School which was across the Snake River and into the country side West of Firth township. Grades 5 through 8 was at the old Firth Grade School and grades 9 through 12 was at the old Firth High School. My years at Riverview were full of fun in many ways. As we had to find things to play at. One of my most vivid memories is of they had a large swing set just at the edge of the school property and when we swung high enough we could reach some trees that I later learned was called Russian Olive, oh I love the smell of those trees. We used to swing really high and grab a handful of these Russian Olive seeds that grew on the trees then we'd have the time of our lives throwing them at each other. They did sting when you got hit but we were crazy enough to play that for the four years we were there. There was lots of baseball played but I found out pretty early on that I was not much good, so I was usually the one left not playing. I also remember playing marbles, (I wasn't very good, needless to say I never won any to keep as mementos). But what I was good at was jacks. And in those days the boys were just as competitive as the girls in jacks and I could hold my own at Jacks. With my large hands I could hold as many as 20 to 25 which was great. The lunch room was in the basement of the School house and there was a small door they used for fire drills leading out of the lunch room. I remember we boys always trying to sneak out that door as soon as lunch was over to reach the swings first of all. Also the school being a two story large stone building there was a fire escape on the second floor that was just like the water slides of today. It was the greatest fun to sneak out the window and go down that slide. Or if we did have a fire drill we made the most of it going down first and then to tease the girls as they came screaming down the slide. I remember most the Christmas's in this school as they always had a Christmas Pageant as they were called. Every year I would try my hardest even in those early years to get parts in that pageant. But I don't recall ever getting a very large part, mostly small trees or ding dong parts. But I'm sure that is where my love for the theater came from. Even though I was a very shy and bashful kid, I loved the stage. This school with all it's memories was demolished in the 1980,s and the last time I went to look at it, it was gone and hay was growing through all those hallowed spots of fun in my childhood memory. During the early years of my adolescence my memory dredges up very simple things. I’m sure if I'd grown up in a larger city they would be much different, but these are some of the treasures of my memories. As a child and coming from the family I was born into our main word was work. We learned from a very young age the meaning of work. And hard, long work. It was not a situation where the parents make the children do all the work but my parents worked right along side me. My father was custodian for the Firth School District. During the school year I worked right along with my father and mother cleaning the Old Firth Grade School. My duties while I was very young like 4 or 5 was to empty the garbage cans in the class rooms. Then as I grew older I worked with my father more closely. In those days the school desks were made of wrought Iron and were fastened together on 1X4's. Up to three sets of desks were on one board. Dad would tip them up on one leg and I with my dust broom would sweep under them. On days that it wasn't very dirty then I could take a small dust mop and just go down under the desks. I remember doing the black boards must usually Mom did those and the toilets. During the summer time we gave the old school a thorough cleaning. I remember well how excited I would get because one of my summer duties was to clean out the huge furnace heat vents in each of the class rooms. I used to find money and all sorts of prizes that I treasured for years. Funny how little things like that triggers interests in later years. I'm sure that’s how I gained my interest in collections and putting things together to make something. And my interest in antiques came from this school also. Downstairs by the kitchen was a room where all sorts of stuff was just put in for storage and get it out of the way. I remember spending hours in there just looking at things and one of my favorite things was an old windup gramma phone. It really worked and had some records that was made of cardboard of some kind. It would play those old records time and again. One of my memories of cleaning the school was cleaning out the old coal furnace. Each night I had to go down to the furnace room and take this long handled clinker tool. A "Clinker" is just the remains of coal when it has burned everything that will burn, it leave this hard mass, and with the clinker took I would reach into the furnace and remove these red hot pieces of clinkers til there was none left in the furnace. It had to be done several times during the day but I usually did it at night. In my antique collection I have one of these very clinker tools as a memento of those days. Also my parents were the Custodians of the Firth L.D.S. Ward building for most of my youth. But this usually only had to be cleaned on Saturdays. Sometimes I resented having to work on Saturday's too, as every night during the week we cleaned the school, so it only left Saturday to play or do many other things with my friends. But it was a chore that had to be done and I played as much as I could. As I have grown I have realized that even though I missed out on a lot of playing in my childhood, my parents taught me a very important necessary fact of life. That of work. I was taught at a very early age to work and to finish a job which you are assigned. I don't resent those years any more, as it trained me for my life in the world and it bonded my parents and me very strongly. Also as a youth I delivered papers for the Idaho Falls, "Post Register." I think I delivered them for about 10 years. Now being a rural area, the Firth route for the paper was a huge area to cover. And most of the time it was on foot. I had one paper I hated to deliver. To deliver his paper I had to walk almost a mile just for the one paper. During the winters I would have to walk all the time but toward the end of my 10 years I remember using a bicycle during the Summer. I used to be thrilled around Christmas time, as then most of the people I delivered papers too would give me an extra tip or some kind of treat. It's funny how something that small could keep me going year after year. During the summer months I also took on mowing peoples lawns. The most steady customer was Mrs. Lou Warren, she lived just across the street from us. They owned the local drug store and were quite well to do. I always admired her house and all the beautiful silver and cut crystal. A love I also acquired during my youth. Anyway her yard was almost a whole city block. It took me a good part of the day to mow her lawn. I think I got paid a dollar or two for the lawn. And I was mighty glad to get it. Now Mrs. Warren had a granddaughter named Sharon. Sharon was to become my first love. We would play together and have lots of fun. We used to spend many hours looking at her grandmothers collection of old National Geographics which I loved to read even up to now. I remember the old swamp that was just across the street from my house and next to Mrs. Warrens. Sharon and I would love to go there and explore. Most of our fun was catching polliwogs and keeping them in a bottle to see if we could see them turn into frogs. To my memory I don't believe we ever achieved that goal. But it was fun, I must not have had my phobia of snakes at that time for now I wouldn't play in one of the swamps for anything. One thing that I'll never be able to talk about without blushing is the day we made a house by putting up the card table and putting a blanket over it as a house and we played house there. Things were just fine until my mother discovered we were also playing nurse and doctor. I thought Mom was going to have a stroke. But the time came when Sharon's mother moved out of town and my first love went with her. I thought my heart would break into a million pieces. I saw her a few times during the following years but what we had was gone, we were both growing up. But I still have a soft place in my heart for her. Another friend that played an important part in my life was Detty Nelson. His mother was German and his father(I believe was an American from our area) had been killed in the 2nd World War. His mother had a fantastic talent of character drawing. She could write your name on the paper and then she would draw a picture out of it. She would even have you come up to the paper and just scribble and then ask you what you wanted her to draw out of it, she was simply marvelous. She was very talented. Detty and I would always play, what I can't remember but I do remember the long walks to Basalt where he lived. The kids were quite mean to him because he was a German but it didn't matter to me. His mother was offered a job in California and from the correspondence after they left she became quite famous in Hollywood for her drawing abilities. I remember seeing her on a talent show on our first T.V. the folks had bought. We soon lost track of each other but I have thought of him throughout my life and wondered what ever happened to him. It was about this time that my mother's sister, Aunt Edith, came to live by us in a little house just South of us. I grew to really love her. Mom and her used to fight a lot but for some reason or other she just kind of adopted me. I remember, and it never fails to bring tears to my eyes, her favorite name she called me was Johnny Boy. She was a widow and still being able to work she took a job in the only café in Firth. I loved to go and see her for it never failed she would give me an order of fries and or a hamburger. She said I had to grow up strong, "my Johnny Boy." She only lived by us a few years, then she moved to Logan where she met her second husband and remarried. I always loved her dearly. It was also about this time that a family by the name of Fenners moved into town. They lived up above the old Dye Store, I don't remember much about them except they had a daughter that I befriended as many of the townsfolk were afraid of them (called them Gypsies etc.) I remember her father was a Magician and he used to come to the school and do tricks. I was just eating it all up with amazement, that's probably why I became friends with them. But they soon moved on, but they did make an impression on my life and were good people as well as friends. It was in this very same Apartment that Fenners had lived in that Betty and her two girls, Sherry and Karly lived when Gerald was called to go to Japan while he was in the service. I remember tending my nieces and just plain visiting them there. I believe there was a used furniture store under that apartment at the time. I remember the long flight of stairs you had to go up to get to the top. I also loved to look out the windows down to the streets and watch people go by. I will always remember the year 1952. In the small village of Firth we had a very small post office and our post office box number was 152 and I remember being so excited that our box was the same as the year. How well I remember, It was my job to go to the post office for the mail. It wasn't very far to go but I remember doing a lot of planning and thinking as I walked to the Office. The postal box had a combination on it and I remember how hard it was for me to open it up. Sometimes the postal clerk had to just hand me the mail or open our box from the back. In the fall of 1952 I had to leave my beloved Riverview school and went into the 5th grade at the Firth Grade School. I was sad but yet I was excited. School was now closer and I wouldn't have to ride the bus any more. Little did I realize what changes would come over me in this year. I had to walk to school every day, as all those who lived within the city limits had to. Only those children who lived on farms and outside the city limits rode the buses. My Dad was a bus driver at the time. I loved to ride with Dad on his bus route to take the children home and then be with him when he put the bus away at night. It made for a long day, I only did it sometimes but it was a special time for me. During my younger years in Southeastern Idaho the main crop of the farmers were the famous Idaho Potatoes. I think the 5th grade was the beginning of my potato picking career. Each fall by the time October came the potatoes were ready to be picked and all the grades 5 through 12 got to get out for Potato Harvest. Now any of you reading this that have not picked potato's have missed a fabulous experience. Potato's are grown under the ground, by October the Fall frost has come and frozen the vines of the potatoes which is the signal to begin harvest. In the first years of picking the farmers had potato diggers which would dig up the potato's spilling the dirt and the potato's on the ground. Now the pickers would begin the day at about 8 a.m. and in October it is cold that early in the morning. The equipment for picking potatoes was a wire basket that had a handle and empty gunny sacks. The pickers would either get on your knees stradeling the dug potato row with the wire basket to your side and you would systematically pick up each potato and put it into the wire basket until it was full. It took two over-full baskets to fill a sack. So you worked as a partner with someone else and the two full baskets that you had would fill the sack. It was usual that one partner would hold the sack while the other one would lift the basket and pour the potato's in the basket. This is how I did it at my age in the beginning. It was had work, boy we would sure go home tired after a day of picking but by the time the day was over we also had had a lot of fun too. It was usual that you would team up with the same partner year after year. By the time a few days had passed you were having contest of all sorts to pass the time away. Usually you and your partner would compete against other couples. But sometimes it was fun to see if you could fill your basket before your partner. I think in the beginning we were paid about .02 or .03 cents a sack. I think that first harvest was the hardest for us, as we got older it was not that hard. But it gave us a chance to earn some holiday money. The only thing that I can really remember about the fifth grade was my teacher Mrs. Brewington and getting my Small Pox shot. I'll have to tell you about the small pox shot, as this experience was to haunt me through most of my adult life. At the time I got the shot there was an epidemic of Polio going through America and it really had the public frightened because they had no cure or treatment for Polio in those days. If you got polio you spent the rest of your life in an iron lung. So we were glad when the Salk Vaccine came along. I remember we were going to have both the Small Pox shot and the Polio shot at the same time. Well I was brave and wasn't going to let it bother me that morning as all of us children boarded the bus at the school for the short but exciting ride to Basalt which was just 3 or 4 miles from our school and the shots were being given at the Basalt Grade School. I can remember standing in the line waiting for the shots, the closer I got to the front of the line the more scared I got. By the time it was my turn my heart was really pumping and my imagination was going crazy. When they gave me the shot the whole world went crazy on me, I walked like a drunk, the room was spinning so fast that I could not see straight. They had to rush me outside the school for some fresh air they said, but I think they were afraid I was going to cause a stampede by the waiting kids for the door of the school. Any way, it gave my family something to laugh about the rest of my life, and to make matters worse my father was the bus driver. This sole experience was to make me deathly afraid of needles and shots for the next 45 years of my life. Shortly after that was to occur the only other memory I have of the 5th grade. I must have gotten into some trouble or was doing my usual teasing but I was in trouble with Mrs. Brewington. Needless to say I was marched to the corner in the back of the room. I remember being so mad at the teacher I was going to teach her a lesson. The scab that you have when you have the Small Pox shot was still on my arm and I started to dig at it and I dug it all the way off and my arm started to bleed. Oh, goodness the sight of blood, I passed out right there and I don't remember anything else. The only other thing I can remember about the 5th grade is the huge swings in the yard. I remember swinging so High I thought I was going to fly out of the swing. We also would sit in the swings and each of us kids would take turns swiping a box of jello from home and we would stick our fingers in the box and like the jello off our finger. We soon got sick of it but I still remember the red and purple fingers we used to have. The grade school had indoor rest rooms but it also had an old outhouse in the play yard and the kids would use this outhouse rather than going clear into the school. I remember vividly the fun we boys used to have teasing the girls. We would act like we were going to tip it over, or would lock the door on them and all sorts of terrible things. But it was fun and I’m sure this was why I was in trouble with the principle Mr. Johnson quite often. It was about this time I remember Mom and Dad being the custodians of the grade school. I know they had been there for several years but I only remember a lot about it starting at the 6th grade. I believe that the 6th grade was the beginning of the formation of my interests in art, history, Egyptology and creating things. The teacher for the 6th grade was Mrs. Irene Whitworth and was she great! I mean I've had a lot of teachers in my life but I think she influenced my life more that any 20 others. She made her class a haven of learning and experience of life. Her class was really very hard but it was about things that I just fell in love with. Art: She had a special time period for Art where she would show us pictures of the greatest art of the artists of the world. She would tell us all about the artist and the works. She gave us tests which wasn't so good but I just ate it all up. All my life now I have had a great love of art and its history. I use to be able to name all the old art works and artists. Egyptology: We learned all about Egypt and learned to read the Egyptian Hieroglyphics there wasn't much we didn't learn about Egypt's history. To this day I watch and digest anything that has to do with Egypt. Thanks to the Learning Channel on cable television the last years of my life I watch it constantly, and never tire of the various ancient histories. Crafts: We made hundreds of crafty things using our imagination and creativity. The one I remember most was the Plastic Jewelry we made. It was simple but was beautiful. I remember making a heart pin for Mom. I know she had it for years. Another great thing we did was at Valentines day we would be required to make a valentine box. I must have spent hours creating this thing of beauty out of this old box, I used crape paper and drawing paper it really was beautiful. Then on valentines day all the kids put their valentines in our box, both cards and cooking or treats. This really was a creative activity and the whole class enjoyed it. And to make sure no one was slighted by not getting valentines Mrs. Whitworth required us to give a valentine to everyone in the class. That’s how thoughtful and careful she was as a teacher. My love for Antiques and old things was kindled during this year. I remember when school was over the last day before summer vacation Mrs. Irene Whitworth took us on a field trip to a farm down by Blackfoot where this man had restored an old town and just had everything you could think of in its stores and buildings. We spent the whole day looking and experiencing things of the past. He had every farm implement that had been built to that day, a general store completely stocked with all antique wares, a livery stable and log houses with them just as they might have been 75 years ago. I just absorbed everything that was there, and I learned to love the old life of the past. What a wonderful teacher she was and what an influence on her students she had. I will never forget her or be able to thank her for the wonderful world she presented to me that year. She was responsible for showing a little old farm kid that there is a world out there and there is more to life than just little Firth Idaho. All she taught me still remains with me to this day and will til the day I die. In fact I think she installed in me a desire to teach and I think I went into teaching because of her class. Mrs. Killian was my 7th grade teacher. I remember her class because I was her pet. I don't know why, but I got straight A's all through 7th grade. She was such a sweet little old lady I guess I just treated her right and she saw that I could do things and with the patience of Job she put up with me. Mom said that Mrs. Killian always asked about me and told her that I had been her favorite student. Then black Monday came when I had to go into the 8th grade and there he was with a switch in hand, Mr. A. W. Johnson. Boy was it a switch. He didn't like me, and couldn't put up with me no matter how much I tried. You know the old adage about the view of the old country teacher where the whip wields it way! This was Mr. Johnson. I never worked so hard to get grades in my life and still it was not enough for him. Thank God above that school only lasted 9 months. I know part of his dislike for me was that I was the son of the Janitor and that I wasn't good at sports. I remember the basketball game we were playing at Goshen against their 8th grade boys. Things were good until I came into the game and made the winning points for the other team. I had taken the ball to the wrong end of the court and made a basket for Goshen’s team. I never for got that. And in baseball I was never able to hit the ball hard enough to get on base. Now you know why I'm not a sports fanatic!!! We had a magazine called "The Scholastic Reader" and Mr. Johnson would always give us a test on it Weekly and made a contest out of it. The one with the highest scores at the end of the year would win. Well at the end of the contest according to my calculations I had beaten everyone but the award was given to Susan Pratt. I never forgave him for it. I don't believe that man had a heart because by the end of that year my self confidence went out the tips of my fingers as he whipped them with his damn whip. I guess the important thing to remember is that I did graduate and was able to let that era of my life go by. Thank heavens the time came for all the 8th graders to go to Idaho Falls for one last trip together. We really were close to each other during those days and had lots of fun, and this friendship would last through our high school years. The trip was great we had our picture taken by the Snake River Falls and a graduation ceremony that night. And we had to say goodby to good old Firth Grade School. During these years through the time of grade school my favorite friends were Clifford Brower, Beck Beus, Barry Berg, Claude Mecham, Marilyn Hjelm, Elsie Johnson of course Virginia and Linda Staples and their brothers and sisters. Because of my working with my parents cleaning the School and the Church house every night my time with friends were limited during the school year. But during the summer I had lots of time to play. One of my most vivid memories was Clifford Brower and the fun we used to have at his home. They lived in the back of a big car garage complex, their apartment was in the very back and the building itself was very old and dark. But it had an area that had at once been cemented but the old cement had broken and there was a big cave area under it. Clifford and I would play for hours down under that cement. There was a pond of water and we used to catch polliwogs. We were always very dirty from the grit but it was exciting. Cliffords mother was the Firth 4H director and I took 4H for 3-4 years. One year I had rabbits and another year was a calf that Mom and Dad were raising for meat. Another year was gardening and then I believe I did flower gardening. Each year after the year ended there was always a 4H camp. But for some reason or other I was never able to go. Twice it was because of accidents. One year I remember I was running down on the flats of our home which was very swampy and rocky. Now this was the day before we were going to the 4H camp. I was running and all of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my foot. I looked down and there was a pitch fork with a tine stuck clear into the side of my foot. Because it was old and rusted I had to have shots and of course could not walk on it so I missed the camp. Another year, the year I was raising the calf. Now you've got go remember I have raised this calf from a baby, it was a rejected calf from its mother so I hand bottle fed this calf from birth. I'm Sure that Sherry can remember helping me feed it. Well the calf was used to me and I thought pretty good friends. It was again the day before leaving for the 4H camp and I was in the pasture with the calf. I had a kitchen knife in my hand for some reason and saw something in the grass of the pasture, so I bent over to pick whatever it was up, when suddenly something from behind me hit me in the seat of the pants and sent me sprawling. It was that darn calf. When I landed the knife in my hand hit my head just above the right eye cutting a big gash in my eyelid, eyebrow and a little way up my forehead. So you guessed it, no 4H camp for me this last year. Another fun activity my boyfriends and I had was going to the Snake River which was only about a half mile from my home. We would sometimes spend days down there making club houses, fishing, swimming, building fires and the most exciting was when the snake River was low enough we could wade and swim out to an island in the middle of the river. Oh the fun we had, we would build fires and cook over them, explore the island, have battles and we even slept there at times. I think my mother would have died if she knew we were wading the river, anybody knows the undercurrent of the Snake River, but we never got hurt but thinking back on it, it was very dangerous for us. In fact it was during one of these overnighters that I tried my first cigarette. Boy were we men! We sure acted like it anyway. But was I sick from that cigarette, It was a sure cure-all for me. Even to this day I cannot stand the smell of a Cigarette! I also remember the river bottoms because one Thanksgiving day I was going through a bad time at home and thought no one loved me so I decided to run away. Can you imagine a kid running away before eating Thanksgiving dinner. Well I ran to the River bottoms and that’s where I stayed. I think I was thinking that was far enough away to let them know I was gone but that they might be able to find me. But hours went by and no one came to find me and boy was I hungry. I remember sitting under a tree for it seemed like hours. Finally I couldn't stand it any more and I quietly slipped home. Shoot, no one even paid any attention to me that I was gone. They had eaten without me and wasn't worried that I was even gone. Needless to say I never ran away again. That was the best food that Thanksgiving after learning that lesson, you don't run away without food! Our home in Firth was next door to an Assembly of God Church and during the summer time they would have the old time revivals. We used to sit in our back yard and listen to all the commotion going on. The were really the holy rollers and were very sincere but it was rather amusing to us. I seems a miracle to me that my mother would let me go and attend their summer Bible School. You know it was very special learning and singing their songs. I still love to hear some of those protestant songs and our church has since put some of my favorites in our hymnal. I think I went to summer Bible school for three summers. Some of my favorite memories are when the grandkids would come down and stay with us. Ruth and Keith's kids never stayed overnight but when they would come for a visit we would all play together and have lots of fun. Gerald and his family was living in Warner Robbins Georgia and would come for a couple of weeks. Sherry was the oldest and I always did things with her and sometimes Karly. Our favorite thing was the club house we made in the attic of our house. Even though the temperatures were in the 90's and there were nails sticking down the roof it was our Camelot. We had made different rooms and everything. Of course we had a lot of fun going through all the storage up there. I think we spent hours of every day. Another summer when Sherry came to stay with us by herself we pitched a tent in the back yard and made a regular room out of it. We would play there and sleep there. During a lot of the nights after the folks were asleep we would sneak out and go up to the hamburger place and buy a large fry and eat them all night long. Another memory I have is of an old model T Ford that had been junked out was just South of our garden spot. We would spend hours playing in that car. I remember the windshield was on hinges and would move out and back. We were very industrious during those days. We had a large front yard which went into an area we called the flats which was just gravel and rocks and some swamp. In this area we were able to play. One day Dad had taken the garbage to the dump and someone had thrown a huge swing set and slide away. So Dad brought it home and put it up in the flats area. We also had a makeshift fireplace there. Well during the summer we used to play down on the flats and our neighbors to the East had two children. Their parents ran the local bar and pool hall. Well Sherry and I came up with this great Idea of charging kids to go down the slide. Mike Sutton, one of the children, would bring down rolls of nickels and we would charge him a .05 cents to go down it. We also cooked corn on the fire place and sold it. This is how we earned our money to go buy our fries at night. It was a lot of fun but I feel bad now because we sure did take advantage of Mike and his sister. During the summer months between the 5th, 6th, and 7th grades Keith and Lucile lived in American Falls. We used to go down and visit them. Keith ran a farm for someone and we'd go there and always would go fishing at the American Falls Dam. I remember the walkway went way out into the river and there was a huge drop on the other side of the dam. But we would sit there for hours fishing. I remember too that we would go looking for obsidian which sparked my interest in rocks and Geology. I stayed with Keith and Lucile one summer for a couple of months and got to feel very close to them. About the only thing I can remember about my stay there was they had a goat and one day we were playing outside and I bent over to pick something up and that darn goat bunted me. I have never felt such a hard hit in my life. A large portion of my life was spent with our family. My folks were one that loved to have their family around them and they always were doing things to bring the family together. We were a fishing and camping family. And when the folks went camping the packed for their whole entire family, even the married ones. Just East of Firth in the foothills we used to drive up to what is called Wolverine. In this area is where mother was helping some people when Dad rode his horse up there to see her. We it was one of our favorite picnic areas. The was a large cave where we camped and it was called the 40 horse cave. It was always a tradition to hike up to the cave and back down. I believe that Mom and Dad even had to spend the night in the cave one night while they were dating. But anyway there was a creek that went through the canyon and it was our favorite fishing place. One trip the whole family was there and naturally Jon had all the grandkids trailing after him. We were walking through tall brush to get to the stream, I had water waders on to go fishing. When all of a sudden I heard this rattling noise and I looked down and there was a coiled rattle snake. My blood ran cold and I screamed to the folks that there was a rattle snake, I remember them yelling back, "hold still till we get the grandkids out of the way." That is the last I remember. I don't know how I got out of it but it left me traumatized for the rest of my life. Still now I have nightmares of the rattler coiled up, my foot was in the middle of the snake and it was twisting back and fourth on my leg, when all of a sudden it jumps and goes down my hip boots, biting me all the way down. Then I always wake up or kill someone who is trying to wake me. Marilyn can attest to the facts of my hitting her if she happened to touch me during my dream. To this day I cannot even stand to see a picture of a snake. One day in the 7th grade I was browsing through the encyclopedia and happened upon a picture of a snake, I screamed and threw the book clear across the room. We were at Wolverine a lot during my youth. I remember the ward having several hay rides up through those hills. I think my favorite times were coming home. We would always sing songs as we drove down the twisty little country road. We'd sing songs like "Down In The Valley", "The Old Gray Mare"etc. And there would always be a beautiful sunset as we approached the crest of the hill and started down into the valley. This is when I remember mother starting her song of Down in The Valley. The sight of that beautiful valley still lingers in my mind. It was the most beautiful view. It's all gone now, all farmland and houses.

Life timeline of Myron J. Dye

Myron J. Dye was born on 1 Oct 1904
Myron J. Dye was 12 years old when Tsar Nicholas II of Russia was forced to abdicate in the February Revolution, ending three centuries of Romanov rule. Nicholas II or Nikolai II, known as Saint Nicholas in the Russian Orthodox Church, was the last Emperor of Russia, ruling from 1 November 1894 until his forced abdication on 15 March 1917. His reign saw the fall of the Russian Empire from one of the foremost great powers of the world to economic and military collapse. He was given the nickname Nicholas the Bloody or Vile Nicholas by his political adversaries due to the Khodynka Tragedy, anti-Semitic pogroms, Bloody Sunday, the violent suppression of the 1905 Russian Revolution, the executions of political opponents, and his perceived responsibility for the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905). Soviet historians portray Nicholas as a weak and incompetent leader whose decisions led to military defeats and the deaths of millions of his subjects.
Myron J. Dye was 24 years old when Walt Disney character Mickey Mouse premieres in his first cartoon, "Plane Crazy". Walter Elias Disney was an American entrepreneur, animator, voice actor and film producer. A pioneer of the American animation industry, he introduced several developments in the production of cartoons. As a film producer, Disney holds the record for most Academy Awards earned by an individual, having won 22 Oscars from 59 nominations. He was presented with two Golden Globe Special Achievement Awards and an Emmy Award, among other honors. Several of his films are included in the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress.
Myron J. Dye was 35 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.
Myron J. Dye was 41 years old when World War II: Hiroshima, Japan is devastated when the atomic bomb "Little Boy" is dropped by the United States B-29 Enola Gay. Around 70,000 people are killed instantly, and some tens of thousands die in subsequent years from burns and radiation poisoning. 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.
Myron J. Dye was 53 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.
Myron J. Dye was 65 years old when During the Apollo 11 mission, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin became the first humans to walk on the Moon. Apollo 11 was the spaceflight that landed the first two people on the Moon. Mission commander Neil Armstrong and pilot Buzz Aldrin, both American, landed the lunar module Eagle on July 20, 1969, at 20:17 UTC. Armstrong became the first person to step onto the lunar surface six hours after landing on July 21 at 02:56:15 UTC; Aldrin joined him about 20 minutes later. They spent about two and a quarter hours together outside the spacecraft, and collected 47.5 pounds (21.5 kg) of lunar material to bring back to Earth. Michael Collins piloted the command module Columbia alone in lunar orbit while they were on the Moon's surface. Armstrong and Aldrin spent 21.5 hours on the lunar surface before rejoining Columbia in lunar orbit.
Myron J. Dye was 74 years old when Jim Jones led more than 900 members of the Peoples Temple to mass murder/suicide in Jonestown, Guyana, hours after some of its members assassinated U.S. Congressman Leo Ryan (pictured). James Warren Jones was an American religious cult leader who initiated and was responsible for a mass suicide and mass murder in Jonestown, Guyana. He considered Jesus Christ as being in compliance with an overarching belief in socialism as the correct social order. Jones was ordained as a Disciples of Christ pastor, and he achieved notoriety as the founder and leader of the Peoples Temple cult.
Myron J. Dye was 76 years old when Mount St. Helens erupts in Washington, United States, killing 57 people and causing $3 billion in damage. Mount St. Helens or Louwala-Clough is an active stratovolcano located in Skamania County, Washington, in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States. It is 50 miles (80 km) northeast of Portland, Oregon and 96 miles (154 km) south of Seattle, Washington. Mount St. Helens takes its English name from the British diplomat Lord St Helens, a friend of explorer George Vancouver who made a survey of the area in the late 18th century. The volcano is located in the Cascade Range and is part of the Cascade Volcanic Arc, a segment of the Pacific Ring of Fire that includes over 160 active volcanoes. This volcano is well known for its ash explosions and pyroclastic flows.
Myron J. Dye was 90 years old when The Rwandan genocide begins when the aircraft carrying Rwandan president Juvénal Habyarimana and Burundian president Cyprien Ntaryamira is shot down. The Rwandan genocide, also known as the genocide against the Tutsi, was a genocidal mass slaughter of Tutsi in Rwanda by members of the Hutu majority government. An estimated 500,000 to 1,000,000 Rwandans were killed during the 100-day period from 7 April to mid-July 1994, constituting as many as 70% of the Tutsi population. Additionally, 30% of the Pygmy Batwa were killed. The genocide and widespread slaughter of Rwandans ended when the Tutsi-backed and heavily armed Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) led by Paul Kagame took control of the country. An estimated 2,000,000 Rwandans, mostly Hutus, were displaced and became refugees.
Myron J. Dye died on 31 Mar 2000 at the age of 95
Grave record for Myron J. Dye (1 Oct 1904 - 31 Mar 2000), BillionGraves Record 1372998 Firth, Bingham, Idaho, United States