Personal History of Caroline Amelia Allen
Contributor: smithc Created: 7 months ago Updated: 7 months ago
Father: Samuel Jackson ALLEN
Mother: Caroline Marie DAVIS
I was born September 18, 1889, in a seven room frame house, on father’s homestead, one half mile east of the town of Lewiston, Utah. I am sure my parents were very happy, as they had seven boys and had been looking for a girl for a number of years. although they had been disappointed a number of times, they were still so sure they would get their girl that father bought a large beautiful doll, only to be disappointed again. He gave the doll to the bishop’s daughter. As a final gesture of good faith, he bought a piano—it being the first one in Cache Valley—and this time the baby was a girl.
When I arrived, father sent Juluis on horseback to the mountains to tell Jim and Arthur, who were piling wood to be hauled out for winter fuel while he saddled his horse and rode to Malad (some 20 or 30 miles away) to tell my oldest brother George who was living there at that time. Our family now numbered ten: Samuel Jackson Allen (my father), Caroline Marie Davis (my mother), and my brothers George, Samuel (who died in infancy), James, Arthur, Juluis, Francis, Lewis, and myself, Caroline Amelia. Mother was never well after I was born. I do not remember seeing her walk alone or eat a meal that she prepared. All was done that money and loving care could do. The doctors were never able to locate the trouble and she passed away July 12, 1900 when I was about eleven years old and needed her most.
The fall of 1902, my brother Jim (who had recently returned from a mission to the southern states) with his wife Alice and baby Oretta moved in with us. Jim taught school and Alice took charge of the home while I went to school. Jim taught here one winter, then returned to Auburn, Wyoming where he had been teaching before he went on his mission. It was also his wife’s hometown. By this time my brothers had all married but Francis and Lewis so, with the help of my father and our neighbor Sister Taggert who helped me so much, I took over the responsibilities of the home for the first time. Washing and cooking became quite a problem. My brother Juluis being captain of the ball team would pick up players wherever he could find them and it seemed like they would always move in on us, expecting me to do their washing, ironing, and cooking. Often I would come home from school with my supper all planned only to find the pantry robbed and everything cleaned out. Father finally put a stop to it all. My sisters-in-law helped me at harvest time and with the canning. I do not remember ever having family prayers in the home. We always had the blessing on the food. Father was a good tithe payer and was called the poor man’s friend. Jim is the only boy in the family that ever showed any interest in religion, and he was very active. I never remember the time we did not have plenty of food and clothing.
My schooling began at Lewiston, Utah in a four-room brick building with four teachers, each having two grades. My first teacher was Mina McCann. She also taught me the second year as Mina Pond (having married Charlie Pond who later built and owned Pond’s Lodge in Island Park). Schooling was rather a bore to me on account of my responsibilities in the home. In 1906, father sold our farm to Riley Lewis and bought a small home in town. This did not help my schooling any because I was more interested in the new home than in school. I had been absent so much that I did not attempt to pass the eighth grade at that time.
I attended Primary, religion class, Sunday School, and Mutual regularly, and Sacrament services most of the time. Cora Allen, Cora Stocks, Lena Allred, Chloe Lewis, and I became good friends when we started our schooling and remained so until moving to new locations and marriage separated us.
When I was sixteen, I met a young man that I was very much interested in, and we soon started keeping steady company. His name was Leo Comish.
Two years later my father had a sun stroke and passed away. This completely changed the course of my life, as my brothers did not think it advisable for me to stay in Lewiston and live alone. All of them had moved away and were living in Idaho and Wyoming. I went to Auburn, Wyoming with my brother Jim, who owned a ranch there and was also teaching school. The ranch was three miles from Auburn and two miles from the nearest neighbor. Coming to a place like this after having just lost my father and being separated from my sweetheart seemed more than I could bear. I became terribly homesick. (It seems quite a coincidence that within two years this ranch that seemed so desolate to me was to become my happy home.)
Jim and Alice thought it would be better for me and also closer to Jim’s school if they moved into Auburn. They rented a house and we moved in on Friday. It was just across the street from the Austin Hyde home. Saturday we were very busy getting things straightened around for Sunday. Denzel, my nephew, came running in saying that Sister Hyde and Rosel were home. I looked out and saw a covered wagon loaded with fruit just pulling in from Brigham City, Utah. I was sure that Rosel Hyde did not concern me, so I went on with my work. I had met him two years before at a party in Auburn while father and I were up there on a visit. He had then just returned from his mission to the Eastern States. I remember saying to some of the girls, “Oh, he is good looking but too old for me.”
The next morning I went to Sunday School with Jim and, when we arrived at the church gate, the Hyde boys were there. Jim introduced them to me as Rosel and David. In the afternoon one of the neighbor girls came in to visit with me for awhile. We were standing by the window when Rosel passed by driving a beautiful horse on a one-seated buggy. I suppose we said the things you would expect girls to say in this kind of a situation. I remember May saying, “You cannot get him. He will not go with the Auburn girls, he goes to Afton.” A week later he took me riding. We dated regularly after that until Rosel went back to work herding sheep near rock Springs, Wyoming. I went to school and finished my eighth grade work.
The letters came regularly and I enjoyed them along with Leo’s from Utah. In the meantime, I was going with other boys and beginning to enjoy myself again. I went back to Lewiston for the Christmas holidays and, while there, Leo gave me a ring. I told him I could not accept it if it meant being tied down, for I knew that I could not go back to Star Valley and just sit around. I accepted his ring and gave him the same privileges I had asked for. I returned to Wyoming and to school, still writing to both boys. Rosel came home at Easter time and, on one of our first dates, asked me where he stood in my affections. I just could not answer then, as I was not sure. He was going to be home two weeks, so he gave me that much time to decide. I knew my brothers did not like the Comish people very well which was possibly the reason I held up my answer. I believed in prayer and that the Lord would help me, so I prayed earnestly and the answer came to me in a dream that Rosel was the one for me. We set the 26th of October, 1908 as our wedding date.
As soon as school closed, I went back to Lewiston for a few days. Leo came to see me as soon as I returned. I told him what had happened and tried to return his ring. He refused to accept it and was very persistent that I quit this guy from Wyoming and come back to him. Although I felt sorry, I was still sure I had made the right decision. He married soon after, and lost his wife at the birth of their first child. In a few years he married again and passed away shortly after.
In June 1908, I went to Logan and stayed with my Aunt Lyle Dudley while I took a short course in sewing. About the first of July I went to Sugar City, Idaho to spend the fourth of July with my brothers and their families. Arthur and Lewis decided on a trip through Yellowstone Park by team and buggy. Arthur had me write and ask Rosel to go with us, but he could not leave his work. There were ten of us with suitcases bedding, and camping equipment making the trip in three white-top buggies. We had a real load. It took two weeks to make the trip. We really had a wonderful trip and lots of fun. I returned to Logan and finished my sewing class. The days were flying by and the 26th of October approaching fast. I had made very few preparations for my wedding. I wrote to Uncle Bill Allen, who had been appointed administrator of father’s estate, for money to buy my wedding clothes. He told me there would be no more money available until after the estate was settled. This was a real disappointment to me as I had always had what money I needed. I know father left several thousand dollars in cash and a considerable amount of property. We never did know where a large part of the cash went to. I had made some nice clothes in my sewing class so got along very well. Rosel met me at Lewiston three days ahead of the time set, as he had learned the temple would not be open on the 24th, 25th, or 26th.
Rosel came by train to the Lewiston spur and rode from there with the mailman who had two other passengers. Not knowing where I was staying and not caring to make known what he was after, he started questioning the men about the Allen boys. They said the boys had all moved away but Conrad who was a half brother. They also told him what he wanted to know: that a sister Carrie was still there and was staying with Con. The driver, Brother Osborne, said she was going to marry a sheep herder from Wyoming and seemed very much concerned. The three of them then began to discuss the merits and demerits of a sheep herder. Rosel said he soon found out the high esteem in which he was held by the people of Lewiston and also what they thought of a sheep herder. On our way to Logan, we rode back to the spur with the same man. When we got seated, I asked Brother Osborne if he knew this man. His face turned red and he said, “I didn’t say anything bad about you, did I?”
Aunt Lyle helped me arrange my clothes so they would be in order when we went to the temple the next day. We were married by the temple president William Budge, October 23, 1908. I was very happy. We left the temple about 2:00 p.m. and went by train to Richmond, Utah where we spent two days with my aunt Minnie Johnson, mother’s sister. On the 25th we met my brothers at Lewiston and all went back to Logan to complete final settlement of the estate. The boys gave me the furniture, father’s favorite driving mare, her colt, and a one-seated buggy, also $400 in cash and $1600 in stocks. Jim helped us pack the furniture and take it to the railroad station for shipment to Montpelier, Idaho, to be taken from there to Star Valley by team and wagon. We left the next day by train to Montpelier, and bus to Fairview, Wyoming, where Mother Hyde met us. Father Hyde was in the mission field when we were married.
For me this was a whole new life. We stayed with Rosel’s folks until the furniture arrived, which was five or six days. Rosel had bought ten acres of land with a new two-room house. So, on November 4, 1908, we moved into our own home. The following spring, we traded my stocks to Jim for his 160-acre ranch and they moved back to Lewiston. The same year we traded our acreage for a larger house and lot and $300.00. In this home, on November 29, 1909, Erma—our first child—was born. There was no doctor available so we had a midwife (Mrs. Wheelock) take care of me. I was sick 18 hours before Erma was born. She was a very lovely baby.
Star Valley is very beautiful in the summer time. It is three miles wide and 30 miles long, completely surrounded by a range of mountains, with Salt River running the full length of the valley. Large springs from the meadows, and streams from the mountains pour ice cold, crystal clear water into it all along its course to the Snake River. Fish and all kind of wild game were plentiful. We raised peas and most vegetables that grew in the ground. It would freeze almost every year in July.
The spring of 1910 we sold our home in town and moved to the ranch where we lived until Erma was old enough for school. We then bought our third home in Auburn and spent our winters there. They were very cold, often down to 50* below zero. There were no modern conveniences in the valley. It was very difficult to keep the house warm all through the night as wood was our only fuel. During these cold spells we would cover up our heads to keep our ears warm and the little children would wear night caps. Our food would all be frozen solid by morning, unless it was well wrapped or in a warm cellar. We were pretty well prepared for these cold spells so they were not the hardships they would seem to be. There was ice skating, sleigh riding, parties, and dancing, along with our church activities for recreation. The snow would usually be gone by the first of May.
On October 19, 1911, Thelma was born. Dr. C. P. Groom had recently moved into the valley and was with us this time.
Rosel went shearing sheep every June, usually getting a boy to stay with me and do the chores. This year I decided to get a girl to watch the two children, and I milked the eleven cows myself. We got quite a scare one afternoon. The bank at Cokeville had been robbed by Hugh Whitney and he had been located on a passenger train near Roberts, Idaho. In order to escape he had shot an officer, jumped from the train, stole a horse, and headed south. The papers reported that he was headed toward the hills northwest of our ranch. Myrtle Lehmberg, the girl staying with me, had gone to town after mail and groceries. I went to the door to throw out some water and saw a man coming up the road on foot from the direction where Whitney had last been seen. My first thought was Hugh Whitney. I was terribly frightened and decided I would sooner take my chances outside than in the house. I took the two children and went out, putting Thelma in her high chair and told Erma to stand close by. I began sweeping the door yard and praying that nothing would happen. When the fellow saw me, he climbed over the fence and came down through the garden to where we were. He was well-dressed and very polite. He sat down on the cellar and talked for awhile, saying “You have two lovely little girls, “ and also asking if my husband was home. I told him no but that I was expecting him any minute. He asked for a drink of water. I drew it from the well and handed him a cup and told him to help himself. Old Toby, our dog, seemed to sense my feelings as he stood by the children with his eyes constantly on the stranger. The fellow asked me if I was afraid of Hugh Whitney. I told him, “No, I did not think he would harm anyone that did not bother him.” He replied, “I don’t think he would either.” He said, “Goodbye, I have enjoyed the visit,” and left. Although he went toward town, no one ever reported seeing him again. I am sure he was Whitney, as he fit the description so well. Whitney was never heard of again until his brother reported his death in Oregon between 1945 and 1950 and that he had been living with his mother.
Our dog, Toby, being so much a part of our family life, I think I should mention a few of the other things that endeared him to us. It was wintertime and the place where we fed the cattle was about one-fourth mile from the house and near a stack of hay. When Rosel got up one morning he saw Toby sitting on the part of the stack he was feeding from, and the cattle standing close by the stack yard gate. Rosel went down to see what had happened and found that the gate was broken down and the cattle had been in tearing up the stack. Toby had discovered it during the night and had gone down from the house and driven them out of the stack yard. He was sitting there on the stack keeping them out until Rosel came and repaired the gate. Keeping the cattle out was his job during feeding time so he knew they did not belong inside.
Each year after the haying was over, we would take a team and covered wagon and go to Brigham City, Utah after our winter fruit. On one of our trips, Toby decided to go with us. We did not know he was along until we had been on the road two or three hours, as he had stayed under the wagon out of sight. We thought it best not to try and send him home for fear something might happen to him on the way. We stopped for noon and when we started again, about an hour later, Toby was gone. We thought he would go back home if he hadn’t already started. We returned eight days later and, as we came around the point of the mountain in sight of the camp, we saw him nearly to the top—close to half a mile away—sitting there watching for our return. I said to Rosel, “Whistle,” as that was the way he always called Toby. You should have seen him come. He was so tickled he could hardly run for trying to wag his bob tail. I don’t think he was any more tickled than we were.
Toby was getting old and, as we had been successful in getting a pup of the same breeding, we decided not to take him when we moved away. We gave him to some friends, but he would not stay with them. He made such a fuss they gave up trying to keep him. Rosel’s brother-in-law, Carl Walton, had bought our home in Auburn. Carl said Toby came back there but would not do a thing for him. He would just sit by the gate month after month watching the road where he last saw us. He died before the first summer passed. The puppy we brought with us was stolen before we had been in Rupert a month.
Another experience we had at the ranch, and one we will never forget, happened during the night. We had a mother cat with one little kitten, which usually spent the nights under the house. During this one night a skunk found the hole in the foundation and also went under the house. Evidently there was a fight. The odor was so strong it awakened us and we thought the skunk was right in our bedroom. Rosel got up to see what had happened. The bedroom seemed to be the best place, so we covered our heads and stayed there until daylight. We found the skunk had gone and the mother cat still had her baby, but the odor was terrible. We hung all our clothes and bedding out each day for two weeks, then decided to go to church. We hadn’t been in the building long before you could hear, “Phew, I can smell skunk.” It was very evident that the smell was still with us.
When Erma was about two years old, she wanted to ride into town with Rosel, on a horse. He would not take her, so she decided to follow him. I missed her in a short time and started looking for her every place I could think of. I then ran out toward the road thinking that if she had started for town she would leave her footprints in the dust of the road. I got to the gate just as a white-top buggy drove up. They asked what the trouble was and I said, “I’ve lost my baby,” and I kept right on going. There weren't any tracks in the road. I finally noticed a cow trail along the fence and found her little footprints along the trail. In the meantime, I remembered the people in the white-top buggy. It was my brother George, his wife Louisa, and two of their boys, Bill and Jack. They had come from their home in Hawkins Basin to visit us and to fish, as there were usually plenty of large fish in the river that went through our field. We followed Erma’s tracks to the turn in the road and then lost them. She had crawled under the fence going through the meadow straight toward Auburn. I soon discovered her standing on the bank of a stream of water, probably trying to figure out how to get to the other side. I was so thrilled to find her that I sat down and cried.
Rosel decided to quit herding sheep when we were married. He was offered a job feeding cattle for $12.00 a month, working around five hours a day and eating at home. Cattle, meadow hay, and oats was about the only sure income in the valley. The first year we were on the ranch we harvested eighty tons of hay and sold it for $4 a ton. We used our homestead right for another 160 acres of land joining our ranch. About half of it could be plowed and the rest of it was used for pasture. It came in very handy as we how had 25 milk cows. The government began to take control of the range so we had to get a permit to use the range and pay so much per head and furnish a rider to keep the cattle on our allotment. The allotment was pretty well established, making it difficult to increase our herd. This, along with the large amount of hay required to feed them through the long winters, made it even less profitable so we decided to leave the valley and try our luck at farming. So sure were we of leaving that we sold everything but our horses and furniture, which brought us $8000.
The flu epidemic of 1918 was not entirely over, so I felt a little reluctant at the thought of Rosel leaving to find us a new home. We had missed the flu so far, and I surely did not want him to get it now. By this time Father Hyde had decided to go with Rosel. Having heard so many favorable reports about the Minidoka Project, they decided that would be their first stop. They left Star Valley the latter part of February 1919. The weather in Rupert was quite pleasant, a little snow was still scattered around. They went to the real estate agency of Jensen and Larsen. Mr. Larsen spent the day with them going over the different farms they had for sale. By evening they had decided on two 80-acre farms one-half mile apart in the Pioneer District, and closed the deal the next morning. Rosel bought Mr. Pyne’s equity in the farm and took over his contract with the Amalgamated Sugar Company, the price being $16,000.
We had lived in Star Valley ten years, and every two years had added a new member to our family: one more girl and two boys. Wanda was born July 21, 1913, Allen Avard was born July 25, 1915, and Clifford Cowles was born September 3, 1917. The ward gave a farewell party for us. We said goodbye to our friends and the next morning loaded our family into the sleigh and started for Montpelier, Idaho, a distance of fifty miles. We had ordered an emigrant car in which to ship our belongings, putting the seven horses in one end and our household goods in the other. Albert Harrison, who had married Rosel’s sister Amy, was also moving down to help Father Hyde with his farm. Albert took charge of our car and that left Rosel free to help me with the children. We arrived in Rupert by train March 21, 1919. We stayed at the Cottage Rooms one night waiting for our freight to arrive. In the morning, Rosel unloaded the car and brought the sorrel team, Floss and Flax, and the white-top buggy over to the rooms to pick up the family. Mrs. Ada Endters, who lived across the street, was watching—as I learned some 30 years later when I met her at one of the flower shows in Rupert. She said, “I remember when your husband drove up with that sorrel team, I thought they were the most beautiful horses I had ever seen.” They were light sorrel with white faces, white tails, and long white manes.
We finally arrived at the farm. Pynes had not left, but they let us move into the two front rooms. When we got up the next morning, our horses had broken the fence and gone. Rosel found their tracks and followed them. They had gone south to the first canal and followed it to McRae’s corrals on the Paul-to-Burley road. Here one of them got separated from the others and could not find its way out, so Rosel now had one to ride. From here they followed the road south to the Snake River bridge but were afraid to cross and were on their way back when Rosel met them.
We were now ready to start farming, it being our first experience. We were quite worried as to the outcome. The first year was almost a complete failure. The place was pretty badly run down. We hauled a lot of fertilizer from the cattle yards at the sugar factory and, in a few years, were able to keep up with our payments. We had a lot of good luck. Best of all was having the Sugar Company holding our contract, as they were very patient with us. After the first year we decided 80 acres was too much land for us, and sold the east 40 acres to Mr. Champion for $8000. We accepted $500 and gave him a contract on the balance. When the Sugar Company heard of the sale, they made a new contract with Mr. Champion for $7,500 and gave us credit on our contract for that amount. The price of land dropped very rapidly. It went so low that we owed more on our place than it was worth. We decided to turn it back to the Sugar Company. They kept us waiting and worrying until spring. Then they gave us a new contract for $3000 less. Mr. Champion was not doing too well at farming so, in a few years, the company moved him off and sold the 40 acres back to us for $2250. They advised us to get a federal land bank loan and pay them off as they were closing out all their farming interests.
Our main concern now was getting our children through college. With their help, we no longer had to hire anyone. The girls would help thin the beets in the spring and pick potatoes in the fall.
On August 8, 1920, Rosel Lee was born. He did not remain with us long, as he was stricken with pneumonia and died January 20, 1921.
The summer of 1924 we made our first visit back to our old home in Star Valley. We loaded our five children with bedding and food enough for the trip into a 1920 Model-T Ford. We stopped at Raft River for a drink and while we were there both back tires went flat. We had quite a bit of trouble and did not reach the Valley—a distance of about 200 miles—until about 10:00 a.m. the next day. We spent a week there fishing and visiting old friends. The wheels in the old Ford were getting very loose. We replaced one before leaving and, by the time we got to Pocatello, were having trouble trying to keep the car on the road. After crossing the Portneuf River, we ran into a lot of loose gravel. Rosel made an attempt to give part of the road to a car coming our way, and landed crosswise in the road, right in front of the other car. It looked like our time had come. We found Allen hanging in the back curtain and one of the girls hanging over the side, but no one was hurt. The Ford was in the barrow pit on the wrong side of the road with a broken wheel. The radiator and engine were so far out of line that the hose connection would not reach. We carried our food and bedding across the road into a field and were preparing for the night when my brother Jim and his wife Alice came by and recognized us. They were quite concerned over me because they knew we were expecting a baby in three months. They stayed in Pocatello that night and the next morning brought us a wheel and a longer hose connection and we were soon on our way home. The next day we traded the Ford in on a new one.
On October 25, 1924, Arlo was born—completing our family.
In 1936, we bought out a small retail dairy and started delivering bottled milk. A year later we bought another one. There was only ungraded milk being sold in Rupert, so we decided to meet the requirements for Grade A and get a permit. Ours was the second one issued in the state and it really paid out.
The boys were all called into the armed forces of World War II, Clifford being the only one to go overseas. He was wounded June 8, 1944, eight miles north of Rome, Italy while on a volunteer mission into enemy territory, losing his right arm and right leg. He made a wonderful adjustment and we very happy that he was strong enough to take it and return home to us.
In 1945 Arlo, our last boy, was called into the service, forcing us to close our business as it was impossible to hire the kind of help required to carry on. We turned our business over to the Rupert Dairy, selling him what equipment he could use and disposing of the cows by public auction.
The boys all served their time and returned, as they had left, free from the vices of whiskey and tobacco.
Allen was discharged from the service in February 1946. He had been working for the government in Montana before entering the service and now decided they should have a more permanent residence, as Leon was about old enough for school. We offered to restock the dairy and rent it to them with the farm, which they accepted. This made it necessary for us to move into Rupert to give them a place to live. We bought an old home on B Street, sold it in the spring, and built a new one on J Street—moving in around the first of July 1947. Thirty days later Wanda, who had been suffering with a malignant tumor for a number of years, passed away.
March 1947, Allen and Doris with their two children Leon and Carolyn moved into our home on the farm. A few months later we started selling milk again. In 1948 we sold everything to Allen but the farm which he continued to rent until the first of February 1950, when his car was hit by a switch engine at a railroad crossing near Heyburn, Idaho. He was killed instantly and the car completely demolished—a tragedy we will never forget. Clifford and Arlo bought Doris’s equity and operated it until the following November. After disposing of their property, Clifford moved to Salt Lake City and Arlo returned to Logan to finish his schooling. The home on the farm now being empty, we decided to have it remodeled and, in February 1951, we moved back to the farm. A few months later we sold our new home in Rupert.
In 1948 we figured our problems were pretty well solved. Our children had received their educations and were married in the temple, all except Arlo who was still single. We were out of debt and ready to retire. So we bought a trailer house and went to Yellowstone Park. Rosel was offered a job, so we worked there three seasons. In 1950 we took a trip to Canada, going by way of Glacier National Park and up to Cardston, Canada where we stopped a few days. We attended L.D.S. services and went through the temple. From there we went by way of Calgary to Lake Louise. We went through five national parks and home by way of northern Idaho.
We spent the winter of 1952 and 1953 in Mesa, Arizona, going by way of highway 91 to St. George, Utah, where we stayed a couple of days while going through the temple. We visited in Las Vegas, Nevada with my niece Ora Tuttle and family. We spent a week in the trailer park at Lake Mead and arrived in Mesa the day before Christmas. My brother Jim lived there, so we spent Christmas with them. We enjoyed the winter in Mesa very much, having spent most of our time in the temple. We left the first of March for Carlsbad Caverns in the southern part of New Mexico. In El Paso, Texas we parked our car and trailer and walked across the river bridge into Old Mexico. We shopped around awhile before continuing our journey. Carlsbad Caverns in the southern part of New Mexico is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Another sight we visited that was well worth seeing was the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas River in Colorado. We continued north into Wyoming and followed highway 30 N. home. We spent most of the summer of 1953 around Yellowstone Park fishing and enjoying the shade of the pines. November 1953 we went back to Mesa for the winter, went through Utah on highway 89. We planned to spend a few days in the temple at Manti, but when we got up the second morning we had five inches of snow. This changed our minds and we were soon on our way south again, having spent only one day in the temple. It was not long until the road got so slick I could hardly stand it, and it seemed to be getting worse all the time. I finally told Rosel we would have to stop. I could not stand it any longer. We parked for awhile and had lunch, while we were deciding what to do. A bus came along from the south and we inquired about the road, and the driver told us a mile farther and we would be out of the snow. Believe me, that was a great relief. We left highway 89 at Mount Carmel and took number 15 through the mile-long tunnel to Zions National Park and on to St. George where we spent the night. We stayed three weeks in Nevada, one at Overton on the north end of Lake Mead, one at the government trailer court near Boulder Dam, and one at Boulder City. In Mesa we stayed at the Mesa Gardens trailer court, which was quite a lively place. they had space for 100 trailers and were filled up most of the time in the winter. They had a small recreation hall free for their trailer people who would furnish their own nightly programs. One night pictures furnished by the group, one card playing, one ladies night, and the other evenings being open to celebrate anniversaries, potluck lunch every two weeks, and shuffle board which was very popular with both men and women. I did not feel too well this winter, so Rosel went to the temple alone most of the time. We left in February to spend a month in California. Traveling south to Tucson, Arizona and into California, we stayed a week at El Cojn. From there we visited San Diego taking a ten-mile boat ride around the bay and among the large ships that were anchored there. The zoo was also very interesting. We followed the coast highway 101 to Los Angeles, visiting there a few days with Jim and Alice who had moved up from Mesa to be nearer their children. My niece Lenna took us to see the L.D.S. temple that was nearing completion, and also to Hollywood. We intended stopping at San Francisco awhile, but it was raining so hard when we crossed Golden Gate Bridge that we just kept right on going. After seeing the redwoods, we started for home by way of Reno, Nevada. We stayed three days at Auburn, California waiting for the all-clear signal before starting over Donner Pass, reaching home about March 1, 1954.
January 22, 1955 we left Salt Lake City, Utah with a group of 49 L.D.S. people, 3 Hawaiians, and the crew by Transocean Air Lines for the Hawaiian Islands, the longest nonstop over water flight in the world. We were three hours from Salt Lake to Oakland, and thirteen hours from there to Honolulu. Hula girls gave us a reception when we landed and placed a lei around the neck of each passenger. The leis were made of Tuber roses and carnations. Our tickets were $350 a person with most everything furnished. We toured the Island by cab with native drivers who proved to be very interesting. The first day we spent around Honolulu seeing beautiful homes, flowers, and the many different kinds of trees, all different from any we had ever seen before. Here are the names of a few that we could remember: Bay Rum, Henna, Camphor, Allspice, and Coffee. These were quite small. Others were Ear Pad, Bunya, Cannonball, Sausage, Rat, Monkey Pod, and Banyon. We were told that there was a Banyon tree on the Island that would shade almost an acre of ground. Citrus fruit or apples cannot be grown on the Island. The main crops are sugar cane, coffee, pineapple, and some bananas. A fruit they call papaya, usually served for breakfast, and poi, made from the roots of a plant grown there, a few wild plums were about the only edible things we saw. Fish and poi is their main dish. Every night at our hotel, an entertainer called “Little Joe” would sing, “All I Want is Fish and Poi.” Next day we went over to the windward side of the mountain, following the ocean to Laei where the L.D. S. temple stands. The church bought 65,000 acres of land there in 1886 and in January 1955 dedicated the ground for a two-million dollar junior college. We spent one evening in the temple. It is the smallest one of the eight now in operation. We left the airport for Oakland, California at 10:00 p.m. Monday, January 31, flying at an altitude of eight or nine thousand feet over water and twelve to thirteen thousand feet over land. We were delayed three hours at Oakland, California with engine trouble. While crossing the Sierra Mountains, we had quite a scare. They flashed on the signal to buckle your seatbelts, and we started going down very rapidly. They had reported 13* below zero temperatures and we knew it was very cold because we had to wrap a blanket around us to keep warm in the plane. We thought of a good many things that could happen, but they did not. We soon leveled off into fog so dense we could barely see the wing tips of the plane. We learned the drop was to get below some very rough weather. Arlo met us at the airport in Salt Lake City and took us to our daughter Thelma’s for the night. We arrived home the second of February, 1955.