Early Employment

Newspaper Assistant Circulation Manager

My first formal job was with The Holladay Neighbor newspaper. I was just 16 years old and had only had my driver's license for a couple of months. My mom was talking to one of the managers there and found out that they needed someone to help deliver the bundles of newspapers to the paperboys. My brother, Dave, was one of the paperboys.

It was a small weekly newspaper, put out by a Mr. Anderson. He had a few other employees. Only one, the office secretary, was full time. The paper was to be delivered by the paperboys to every home in each delivery area. Then, they went to each home each month to ask for volunteer donations. They kept a percentage of what they collected, and turned the rest in to the paper.

My job was to report to the Murray Eagle Newspaper printing office, where the paper was printed, pick up the bundles of papers and take them to each boy's home. I was also to help recruit additional paperboys. I had a route with about 15 boys, for which I was paid $5 each week. After a couple of months, one of the other bundle deliverers quit, and I was asked to take over his route also. So I was making $10 per week. I had to pay for gas out of that. Fortunately, gas was only about 25 to 30 cents per gallon. I think I ended up earning about $1.50 per hour.

I really learned how to find addresses all over Salt Lake County while working there.

The only problems I had were when there was bad weather, or when the presses broke down and I had to be out really late delivering the bundles. One night there was a combination of both problems. It was snowing, and I didn't finish delivering bundles until after 11PM. I had to have the defrosters in the car going all the time, and I was jumping in and out of the car to make deliveries. As I got near the end of the routes, I started having problems with my vision. Apparently the cold air blowing into my nose caused my sinuses to swell and press on the nerves to my eyes. I lost all peripheral vision and had a hard time keeping the car in the proper lane. Fortunately I was only about a mile from home at the time. Mom said my speech was all jumbled when I got home. After a good night's sleep I was fine. It was just really weird when it happened.

After about 1 1/2 years, the paper was purchased by 2 young political entrepreneurs, the Rosenblatt brothers, Norm and Steve. They changed the paper from a neighborhood news focus, to a left-wing propaganda focus. They even hired an avowed Communist to be the editor. They must have been trying to annoy their father, who was the long-time head of the Utah Republican Party. They also expanded the circulation far outside the Holladay area.

We had been using our personal vehicles for the deliveries. They bought some Ford Econoline vans to make the deliveries. The vans were not heavy enough to handle the loads of papers, and overloading them made them very unstable and dangerous. They had moved the printing to a plant in Tooele. Driving back from there with a load, the van would suddenly, without warning, change lanes. Once I found myself in the wrong lane, with a cement truck coming head-on toward me. I quickly dodged back into my own lane with a near miss. I was happy to quit shortly after that.

I started out using Mom and Dad's cars at first, but eventually saved enough to buy my own car, a 1957 Chevrolet. Soon after getting my own car, I finished my Lifeguard and Water Safety Instructor classes at the University of Utah and was able to earn more money that way, so I quit that job.

Lifeguard and Swimming Teacher

My first lifeguard job was at the Club Fontainbleu. It was a small neighborhood swimming club, with grand designs to become much bigger. They had an Olympic size pool, meaning it was at least 25 yards long and wide enough for several lanes, which had been built by one of their members. He had only previously built small backyard pools, and really botched the job on the bigger pool. That caused us several problems in maintaining the pool.

There was a clubhouse, divided into men's and women's dressing rooms, and a common area with vending machines and where we stored deck furniture. Just outside the clubhouse was a foundation, with a basement where the clubhouse was to be expanded.

The filters for the pool were inadequate for keeping the pool clean, so we had to clean them and reinstall them every night. Cleaning them required back flushing with pool water. We had to dump the dirty water somewhere, usually in the empty basement foundation. That became a large frog pond after a while. The procedure also lowered the pool level a few inches, so we had to refill the pool with cold water every night. While the pool was filling, I would finish all of the other clean up and closing tasks. A couple of times I forgot to turn off the refill system when I locked up for the night. By the time I remembered and returned to shut it off, the nearby empty field was a swamp.

I took Georgia and some other friends there one night after closing hours. That was approved by the powers in charge. I trapped her behind one of the pool ladders, but didn't do anything more than say, "Gotcha trapped." She later admitted being disappointed that I did nothing more. I gave her the first hug I had ever given her while wrapping her in a towel. She was totally surprised by that.

My next lifeguard job was at Willow Creek Country Club. I also taught lessons and helped coach the swimming team. I remember teaching one young boy how to do the butterfly stroke. He went on to win the country club league championship.

One of my duties was to clean the locker rooms after we closed up. One evening a young, recently engaged couple came to swim just before closing time. He came out of the locker room about half an hour after we closed. I had already completed all the outside cleaning jobs, so I then went in to clean the men's locker room. That took me about another half hour. I came out and waited another 15 minutes or so, to make sure the lady had gone. I couldn't imagine that she could still be in there. So I opened the door to go in and there she was, sitting at the mirror in just a lacy black bra and slip, still putting on makeup. I made a quick exit, very embarrassed, and went to sweeping the pool deck until after I saw her actually leave. I had had no idea it could take a girl so long to get ready for a date.

The next year, 1965, I was able to get a job lifeguarding and teaching swimming at the Deseret Gym in Salt Lake. I had not been selected to work there when they first opened, but a month later they decided they needed more staff, and I was hired. That was February, and I worked there until I had to leave for ROTC Summer Camp in June.

When I got back from camp, it was less than 2 weeks before my marriage to Georgia, so I decided to wait until after the honeymoon to ask for my job back. When I returned the first of August, all the positions were filled, and it looked like I would have to wait until school started in the fall, or until someone quit. The pool manager asked one of the lifeguards, who had his mission call, when he planned to quit. He had already decided to leave as soon as a replacement was available, so I got to start the next day. The Lord blessed us with that job.

I worked there while going to school until January of 1967, when my schedule got too heavy to both go to school and work. I loved that job and was sad to leave it. I loved teaching, and apparently got pretty good at it, because I was rewarded with the best teaching position, teaching the lifesaving class. I taught future lifeguards from the summer of 1966 until I left.

One of the challenges I faced in that position was when a group of young men from the Cyprus High School state championship swim team signed up for my class, along with some college PE majors from Utah State University. There were also some average swimmers in the class who were pushed along faster than they felt ready for, as a result of the way-above-average students' pace. Everyone did quite well, and all graduated feeling confident in their knowledge and ability.

Concrete Construction

After I finished my graduation requirements at the University of Utah, I only needed to wait for my orders to come through from the Air Force. But they were slow in coming, and the first orders were in error, so it took even longer. I had some time to work for a few weeks, from the end of February until the first of May. Granddad got me a job working concrete construction for a contractor who was working on some of the projects Granddad was a supervisor for.

A couple of things that happened while I was there included a nearly broken toe and a near electrocution. Working in the rain, the ground was quite slippery. As I rounded a corner carrying a heavy concrete form, I slipped and planted the corner of the form on one of my big toes. That night when I removed my blood filled shoe, the toe was extremely painful. My dad took me to an orthopedist the next morning. He x-rayed my foot and found that the toe was not broken. Then he heated a needle in a Bunsen burner and used it to pierce the toenail to relieve the pressure. As the needle penetrated the toenail, a spurt of blood and water came out and sprayed clear from the floor to the ceiling. But the severe pain was gone. I went back to work the next day.

A few days later I was standing atop the recently poured cement wall using a tool called a vibrator to get the bubbles out of the wet cement. It was raining, and the vibrator suddenly conducted the electricity through me. The power threw me off the wall, still holding onto the vibrator. I guess I couldn't let go. The boss quickly unplugged the machine. I was just fine, but he wouldn't let me operate the vibrator the rest of the day, and I had to go back to hauling forms.

Black Lightning

Another story from my US Air Force days that my grandchildren often ask me to tell.

Part of my assignment as an aircraft maintenance officer at Offutt Air Force Base near Omaha, Nebraska, was to be part of an accident investigation board and head of the base crash/recovery team. This is a story of an Air Force plane from our base that crashed near McCook, Nebraska.

Six expert pilots from Offutt AFB were returning from a conference at Moffett Naval Air Station at the south end of San Francisco Bay. They were flying in a T-39 jet, a small 2-engine airplane sometimes called a Sabre Liner, which had seats for 4 passengers in addition to the crew of pilot and co-pilot.

They stopped at Francis E. Warren AFB at Cheyenne, Wyoming for refueling. As they were ready to leave, they received a report of thunderstorms developing along their route home, along with a recommendation that they stay overnight there in Cheyenne. After discussing the thunderstorms, they thought they would be able to get past them, and so decided to get home.

As they got over Nebraska, they received a report that a large thunderhead was looming directly in their path. After finding out that it was at about 36,000 feet, they decided to fly over it. The maximum altitude for a T-39 was 42,000 feet, at which altitude the air was so thin that there was just barely enough flowing through the engines to keep them going. Any air turbulence at that altitude would cause the engines to shut down. They call that a "flame-out".

Just as they got to the thunderhead, it bloomed to 45,000 feet. They were flying at maximum altitude, and the updraft from the storm caused a double engine flame-out.

They immediately began to plummet toward the ground, but felt they had plenty of time to get an airstart on the engines. That's where the plane gets up enough speed to force air through the engines fast enough to restart them. They were flying through the thunderstorm as they fell. Monitoring the guages, the pilot and copilot were surprised that there was no reading on the engine rpm guage. But they felt they must have enough speed up to start the engines, so they started the fuel flow and ignited the spark to start the engine.

They immediately had an engine fire warning light, so the emergency fuel shut off was engaged. Now they were getting too close to the ground for comfort, so they tried again to get an air start, with no results, forgetting that the fuel was shut off at the emergency shut off.

Now it was too late for anything but emergency landing procedures. They spotted a truck weighing station along side a highway. The lighting from that facility supplied what they felt like they needed for a landing on that highway. They turned and lined up on the road and let down the landing gear.

Just as they were about to touch down, they saw vehicle brake lights come on a short distance ahead of them. Rather than run into someone from behind, they turned sharply to the right into the highway barrow pit. The landing gear were sheared off, and the plane slid on its belly. Suddenly they hit a hill, which was actually the side of another road which ran at a right angle to the one they tried to land on.

The sudden change propelled them back into the air, broke the wings off the fuselage and broke the tail off the plane. The plane spun half way around and finally crashed going backward into an irrigation canal on the other side of that road.

Only the pilot was injured. His upper right cheek bone was broken when he bounced off the back of his seat and hit the steering wheel. The group opened the door and scrambled out. They saw lights from a farmhouse about 200 yards away and made their way over through the rain.

At the farmhouse they managed to telephone Offutt AFB to report the crash, and then sat down to await rescuers. As they chatted with the wife in the home, the farmer and his hired hand came in, having been out adjusting irrigation gates to allow for the storm waters.

They described their crash to the farmer, and he replied, "So that's what that noise was. My pickup truck must have been the vehicle whose brake lights you saw. I was just turning onto that side road. We heard a loud bang, and the truck was sprayed with mud. We couldn't see what could have caused it. It sounded like lightning, but there was no flash. So we decided it must have been black lightning."

Everyone got a good laugh out of that. But it was also very sobering when they realized how close they had been to death, as the plane had apparently bounced right over the top of the pickup.

As the accident investigation proceeded early the next morning, my chief assistant on the crash recovery team pointed out to me the probable cause of the lack of airflow through the engines, which prevented them from airstarting. The lens on the nose wheel light had been broken our, and there were large spherical dents in the metal reflector for the light. Hailstones the size of marbles had dented that reflector. Apparently the engine intakes had filled with hail as they dove through the thunderstorm, thus preventing any flow of air. By the time we got to the scene, all the hail had melted, but the evidence was there in the nose wheel light.

The ultimate cause of the crash was "get-home-itis" on the part of the crew and passengers.

Wrestling With an Octopus

This is one of my granddaughters' favorite stories. And it is true!

I was in the Bahamas for a sales conference. One afternoon of the conference we had been set free to enjoy the recreation available there on Paradise Island, Nassau.

I had planned to go scuba diving, but the weather was nasty. It actually snowed in Miami, Florida that day, and was the only time in recorded history that it had snowed in the Bahamas. It did not snow where I was, but at Freeport, an island a few miles north, they actually had snowflakes. The sea was very rough, and no one was able to go out scuba diving, or much of anything else either.

I decided to just go beach combing. Much of that area is built up coral. Coral is the remains, or skeletons of coral polyps, that has been built up over centuries. The coral where I was was mostly a dark gray, not the pink that often comes to mind when thinking of coral.

Sea urchins eat coral. There were many tidal pools in the coral. I could see some of the black spiny sea urchins moving around in some of the pools, where they had eaten holes down into the coral. The holes were filled with sea water from high tide that covered the area.

As I walked around, I spotted a large snail shell sitting at the bottom of one pool. The pool was about two feet across and two feet deep. The snail shell was about the size of a small fist. I thought it might make a nice souvenir for my children.

I reached down into the pool and grasped the shell. Suddenly I felt something grab me! Something had grabbed my hand! What a shock! I yanked my arm out of the pool.

I looked back down into the pool and could see nothing except the shell. I wanted to know what kind of creature was protecting that shell.

I looked around and found a stick about four feet long. I returned to the pool and prodded the shell with the stick. Then I saw an octopus tentacle reach out from a crevice near the bottom of the pool and wrap around my stick.

I thought to myself, I'd like to see the whole octopus. I let the octopus get a good grip on the stick, and attempted to pull it out into the open. It was much too shy to let me get it out of its crevice. It let go of the stick and retracted out of sight.

I then worked up the courage to once again reach down into the pool. I grabbed my snail shell. It was empty, the octopus had already extracted the contents.

Poor octopus lost his prized shell. I had my souvenir.

Family History Experiences

These are memories of experiences from doing family history research.

In about 1975, my brother, Dave and I decided it was time to do some family history research. We were both living in Salt Lake City, Utah, and had access to the Family History Library there. It was located in downtown Salt Lake. We started meeting there for lunch.

Dave had served a mission in Austria, and I had taken a year of German at the University of Utah. So we thought we could possibly read the German names on the microfilms there. It was very difficult, as the names were all hand-written and the writing was different from what we were used to.

Mom had started the research by asking Dad's mother about her ancestors. We started with this information. It turned out that the spellings she had used for the names were very different from what was recorded.

Dave and I were both attracted to names that were only similar to the information we had. The Spirit was guiding us, and we were able to put together a large list of Polish and German ancestors. Our success was primarily in a section of Poland that had been divided off from Germany after World War I. It had changed hands between Germany and Poland several times throughout its history. That was Silesia (Schlesien in German).

There was some confusion because one ancestor, Juliana Rathusny, one of our great great grandmothers seemed to have had two husbands, each with the first name of Sebastian. Then we found where the first Sebastian had died in a fall from a roof.

Other problems that we had were caused by spelling uncertainties. One last name could be spelled one way at birth, another way at marriage and even a third way at death. We had to rely on the Spirit to help us sort that all out.

While we were thus researching, I had the opportunity to go to Germany with the Utah Air National Guard. We knew that Oma, our German grandmother had a younger sister living near Frankfort, Germany, where I would be staying. I managed to call her and make arrangements to visit with her on a Saturday.

With my limited ability to speak and understand German, I was concerned about this visit and its success. I need not have worried, because the Holy Ghost was with me and temporarily gave us the gift of tongues. For quite a while during the visit, I was able to understand everything my great-aunt Marta Gothardt was saying. And I was able to speak well enough that she was able to understand what I was saying. I was able to verify much of the information Dave and I had extracted from the records. The information we had from Oma included Juliana Rathusny's first husband Sebastian Wiechulla and their family. Aunt Marta was younger and did not know that family, but she knew the family of the second husband, Sebastian Gatzka. I knew when it was time to say goodby to Tante Marta, because the Gift of Tongues was withdrawn, and I could no longer understand all she was telling me. It was quite a testimony of the importance of this family history work.

Dave was able to prepare most of the names for Temple ordinance work, and perform much of the work at the Orlando Florida Temple while he was living in Tallahassee. I found through New Family Search that there were some that had been left out. I am currently working on those at the Palmyra New York Temple.

Courtship and Marriage

This is a story of the most important phase of my life. It is a continuing story because I am still courting my wife, and continuing to try to improve my marriage by improving myself. My wife is already nearly perfect.

In the Beginning

I first saw Georgia Smith in Sunday School class. She had just moved into the East Mill Creek Ward with her parents and 2 brothers. My first impression was that she was dressed like a greaser girl (as in the Pink Ladies from the movie "Grease"). So I was a little turned off. But she didn't fit in that group. It was only that the style from her previous neighborhood was different. With that style of dress she immediately attracted the friendship of other girls in the ward, especially Eileen Anderson, who was kind of a greaser girl. Georgia was really not that kind of girl. But she was sweet and kind and treated Eileen nicely, even though she didn't want to be in that group.

Then I was ordained a Teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, and was assigned as the junior ward teaching companion to Larry Morgan. We were assigned several new families at the east end of the ward where the houses had been recently finished.

One of those families was the Robert Farr Smith family, who lived at the top end of the same street where I lived. I lived in the house, 2787 E 3400 S, on the southwest corner of the block, and they lived in the house, 3398 S 2890 E, on the southeast corner of the block.

The first time we visited them, I sat on a couch in the corner of the living room, right by the stairway to the basement. There was no carpet on the floor, yet. The house was still not quite finished. They had two little chihuahua dogs, named Poky and Tia. They got under the couch at my feet and I played with them while we visited. Georgia's dad called her to come in and meet the ward teachers.

Her first impression of me was not very good. She was not happy to have moved from her previous neighborhood and friends. She had the thought that she would likely meet her future husband in this new neighborhood. As she looked at me and thought that I might be that person, she was repulsed. Here I was, a really skinny little boy. She had already developed into a beautiful young lady. She was half a foot taller than me. My prospects must have seemed very dim at that point.

Our relationship did not advance for a long time. She continued to try to find her place in this new society. I continued to struggle with being shy, but wanted to have the fun that others had in dating the opposite sex.

We Get to Know Each Other

Once I decided I wanted to go to any particular dating function, I sometimes spent weeks trying to work up the nerve to ask someone. I don't even remember what the occasion was when I first decided to ask Georgia out. But when I called, I was told that she was in the hospital having her appendix removed. By the time I got up the nerve again, I discovered that she was 'going with' the bishop's son, Paul Pitts. That fit, because she was a former bishop's daughter. Paul was a friend of mine, so I was not about to cut in on him.

Eventually, Georgia and Cheryl Cutler became best friends. Cheryl lived next door to Bishop Pitts and his family. Cheryl first asked me out, and we double dated with Georgia and Paul. I was trying to be a gentleman, so I returned the favor and asked Cheryl out. Once again we doubled with Georgia and Paul. Cheryl and I continued to ask each other out, and we always doubled with Georgia and Paul.

Steady dating was discouraged in the church. I wanted to date other girls, other than Cheryl, but being so shy, it was just easier to call her. So we dated regularly. Toward the end of our regular dating, I did take her out without having Paul and Georgia along. But that did not end well. She was just not very fun when Georgia was not with her.

The custom in those days for the teenagers at church meetings, was to sit with your friends if you did not have an assignment. Priests sat at the Sacrament table through the entire meeting. Teachers frequently served as ushers and sat near the doors to the chapel. Deacons stayed on the front row even after they had passed the Sacrament. If you were dating someone regularly, you sat with the person you were dating. I did not want people to think I was going steady with anyone, so I joined the ward choir.

Sometime during my senior year in high school I decided to break up with Cheryl. I did it very clumsily and I was not very kind in doing so. I just wanted to date other girls. I did start dating others, but still had problems with being too shy to really enjoy the experiences.

Cheryl and Paul and Georgia and I were called as Ward Dance Directors. We were in charge of promoting ward dances, and in participating in stake and regional dances. I don't remember why, but Cheryl and Paul dropped out and no longer participated, leaving Georgia and I alone in the calling.

During my senior year in high school, Georgia approached me and asked if I would please ask Cheryl to the Junior Prom. She put all her feminine charm into the approach, and I totally melted. I agreed to ask Cheryl. So Paul and Georgia, and Cheryl and I were back together for one last time. But that was a big turning point. I had wanted to ask someone else to Prom. But as I thought about why I agreed to ask Cheryl, I realized that I would do anything for Georgia. I realized that I was falling for her. I really wanted to start dating her, but she was going with Paul, and I would not cut in on him.

One of the fun social activities for the youth of our time was the ward Saturday afternoon movies. It was a fund raising activity for the ward. The ward would rent 16mm movies and show them in the cultural hall. They charged for admission, and they also sold candy and treats out of the kitchen. The cost was very reasonable and most of the kids in the area attended, along with many parents. The teenagers would gather toward the rear of the hall to socialize before the movie started.

One Saturday after I graduated from high school, Eddie Nicholson and I were sitting together, waiting for the movie to start, when Georgia came in alone, looking very upset. I say it looked like she had smoke coming out of her ears, she was that mad. I didn't want to talk to her while she was in such a mood, but Eddie was not so shy. He asked her what was wrong. She turned and said, "Paul and I just broke up." She says the look on my face scared her half to death. Needless to say, I was actually delighted.

Our First Dating Experiences

I was not dating a lot at that time, being busy with my freshman year at the University of Utah. But I started looking for an opportunity to ask Georgia out. I knew she was not too fond of me, because I was the guy who had dumped her best friend, Cheryl. I had joined an LDS fraternity at the Institute of Religion. I was in Alpha Chapter of Lambda Delta Sigma. We had a lot of fun and spiritual experiences. We also frequently had joint activities with the ladies' chapters, which made it easy to socialize without the need for the expense of dating. My mentor for this group was Dennis Mead.

Finally, an annual function of the chapter provided an opportunity to ask others. It was the annual Alpha Chapter Polygamy Party, in the spring of 1963. We pretended that we were back in pioneer times and asked young ladies to join us. Bruce Dehaan, the chapter president, rented a bus and took thirty-two young ladies. I asked five girls, Georgia being among them. They were all still in high school, so they thought it was really cool to be asked to a college function. Georgia says that if it had just been her and me, she probably would have turned me down, but since there would be others, she agreed to go with me. The other young ladies named Georgia my number one wife. I guess they could tell I was really sweet on her. We all had a great time.

I continued to date Georgia through that spring and summer. We often doubled with her cousin, Deanna Chamberlain and others that she would bring. Eddie Nicholson was often with Deanna.

That fall, Georgia was also enrolled at the University of Utah. She was also employed at ZCMI, a large department store in downtown Salt Lake City. I often met her at the bus stop when she would come from work to take some evening classes. I looked for any opportunity to be with her.

I loved to go to the Utah State Fair with dates. I took Georgia that year. We doubled with Deanna and Eddie. Afterward, we dropped Eddie and Deanna off at their homes and I took Georgia to her house. As we sat and talked on the patio, I kissed her for the first time. But she did not kiss me back.

A few days later, after another date, I tried kissing her again. This time she kissed me back and I almost fainted. Then she asked me why I had kissed her. How do you answer that? I stammered something about how I thought I was falling in love with her. That seemed to satisfy her, so she really kissed me. She had me. As if there had been any question before, I was totally in love after that.

We continued to date through the fall. I was going on vacation with my family between Christmas and New Years to southern California. I felt badly that I would not be able to celebrate New Years Eve and Day with her. I did give her some really nice Christmas gifts. One was a sweater that she really liked. Another was a record album by Bobby Vee titled "The Night Has a Thousand Eyes."

A Rough Spell

Paul was trying to get back into the picture. Obviously he didn't share the same honor code with me. Georgia did wear the sweater I gave her on New Years Eve as she went out with Paul. He even asked her where she got it.

After I returned from vacation I tried to get back to dating Georgia. She was conflicted. She still liked Paul. She was not sure about me. She subtly let me know that she wasn't sure about me. I finally suggested that we break up and date others for awhile. She agreed. We'd had no agreement to be exclusive up to that time, and she felt I was trying to monopolize her time. I was, and she didn't particularly care for that.

I did date several others over the next few weeks. I also bought my first car. It was a 1957 Chevrolet. Then several of the youth of the ward were called to be Youth Missionaries. I was called, as were Georgia and her younger brother Stephen. Paul was not. We had our first meeting of the Youth Missionary Committee shortly after I bought the car. I also had a date that evening with Laura Setterberg, a girl I knew from work. So I was really dressed up. I was also wearing a nice cologne that evening for the first time, English Leather. At the end of the missionary meeting I offered to take Stephen and Georgia home, before heading out to my date. Georgia didn't want to, but Stephen readily accepted, so I drove them home. I was hoping just a little to make her jealous.

Laura was a very popular girl who had been a prom queen at Jordan High School. I had dated her a couple of times before. I don't remember where I took her that night, but at the end of the evening as I was saying goodbye at her door, she leaned out and kissed me. The emotions that stirred scared me, and all the way home I kept thinking, "I've got to get back together with Georgia!"

Things Start to Get Serious

I told her I'd had enough of dating others and took her out more. We often double dated with Deanna and her dates again. One night in May, as Georgia and I sat in my car in her driveway, she decided to find out my true intentions. After several hours of discussion I finally told her I thought I wanted to marry her. She had intended to tell me to get lost. But she didn't. She finally felt much the same about me as I had felt about her. So we were informally engaged. We didn't tell anyone at that time.

We started stopping to look at engagement and wedding rings, so I knew what styles she liked. Sometime later that year, I had enough saved to buy a set of rings. I talked to a salesman at Zales Jewelry in the Cottonwood Mall about what I wanted. But there was a problem. I was only twenty years old, and there was some law at the time that any man under the age of twenty-one could not make major purchases without their parents permission. I had him put the rings on hold for me while I tried to figure out how to talk Mom into going with me to purchase them.

One problem was that I was grounded. The night Georgia and I had talked until almost 4AM, I was in trouble when I got home. I couldn't tell Mom and Dad why I was so late. They didn't like how serious I was getting with Georgia. So they grounded me. I finally talked Mom into going to Zales with me to buy the rings. I agreed to wait awhile before I presented the engagement solitaire to Georgia. She hoped that the thought of such a serious commitment would cause me to reconsider.

Engagement

I did not give up. I was determined to marry Georgia. I was emotionally committed. I was also completely in love. Soon after Thanksgiving I decided it was time. I scheduled a date with Georgia to discuss our desires with her parents. I asked her to my house first, where I presented her with a single long stemmed red rose in a fancy florists box. I told her it was for courage in talking to her parents. Around the stem of the rose I had place the engagement ring.

I hardly remember everything that went on that evening. I think I got down on my knees and formally proposed marriage. She agreed! We then went to her house and announced our engagement to her parents. I probably asked her father's permission, but I don't really remember. It was all such a blur. It was such a happy time.

Later that month, Georgia went with my family to Camarillo, California on vacation. She got to meet my Oma and Opa, my German grandparents.

We originally set the wedding date for September twenty seventh. We thought that date sounded good.

Soon after we returned from California, we decided that waiting until September was not a good idea. We were both too anxious to be married.

I was in the ROTC program at the U. So I was scheduled to go to a military boot camp that summer of 1965. I would be away for four weeks. I didn't want to go away after marrying. I thought that would be too much torture. So we decided to get married as soon as possible after I returned.

We decided to be married in the Salt Lake Temple. However, the temple would be closed for most of the month of July. It was to open for marriages on July 23 for those who were previously endowed. We decided on that date. We received our endowments in the temple on June seventh. I left on the tenth to go to Lowry AFB in Denver for ROTC summer camp.

When we went to get our marriage license, the problem arose that men had to be at least twenty-one to obtain a license on their own. Women only had to be eighteen. Once again I needed Mom to accompany me to get her permission. It was her last chance to hold things up, but she went willingly. She had decided that it was no use fighting the inevitable.

Earlier that year I had obtained employment as a lifeguard and swimming instructor at the Deseret Gymnasium in downtown Salt Lake. I was also in my third year of classes at the University of Utah. The last term of those classes I got the best grades I had yet had. Being engaged really made me buckle down.

I had to give up my job at the gym to go to summer camp. But I had a promise that I could come back after I was through. I decided to wait until after the honeymoon to return. There was only a few days from the time I came back from Denver until we left on our honeymoon, so I didn't think it was appropriate to go back just then. And we had a lot that we needed to do to get ready for the wedding.

We had secured an apartment in Stadium Village married student housing at the University of Utah. We moved our furniture into that apartment at 1563 Sigma St. #5 during the time we were waiting to be married after ROTC camp.

Marriage

So we were sealed together for time and all eternity on the morning of July 23, 1965. The sealer in the temple was Eben R.T. Blomquist. The temple was partially under construction at the time. The entrance was through what is now the North Visitors Center.

We had a wedding breakfast at my Aunt June and Uncle John Hartman's home on Dallin Street near the Salt Lake Country Club.

Later that afternoon we went to the site of our reception to decorate for the wedding. Georgia had made most of the decorations herself. Our reception was out in the garden at the Garden Park Ward on Yale Avenue in Salt Lake. Mom and Dad had been married there in a double ceremony with Mom's sister June, and Dad's best army friend John Hartman. Georgia's parents had also had their wedding reception there. We had daisies floating in the duck pond there, and ribbon roses festooning everything around the yard. Georgia had made the roses from extra ribbon while she worked at the gift wrap desk at ZCMI.

As I worked helping decorate for the reception, I looked at my watch and discovered that it was not working properly. I had ordered the flowers from Mildred's Flowers, a place I always had gotten corsages. Mildred was also a friend of Dad's. It was too late for me to get from the Garden Park Ward house to Mildred's before they closed. I called home to see if Dad could get there. Mildred had already called him and the day was saved. I went home and picked up the flowers and got back to the church in plenty of time.

Georgia had asked her cousin Deanna to be Maid of Honor at the reception. Cheryl Cutler and my sister, Tawny, were also in the wedding line. My best man was Dennis Chamberlain, Deanna's older brother. The ushers were my brother David, and Georgia's brothers Stephen and Stuart.

The guests at the reception were served from a fresh fruit buffet. We had invited many people from the East Mill Creek wards who had watched us grow together. Georgia's dad had been the Bishop of the North 21st Ward on the Avenues, and many of them had been invited. We actually had over five hundred guests come to the wedding. When it was all over, there was no food left for the bride and groom. Georgia's uncle Ernie, Deanna's father, bought us hamburgers from Dee's drive in for us to eat as we left the church.

We left the church in Dad's '59 Chrysler station wagon. It was a good thing we hadn't planned on taking my '57 Chevy, because my brother had let all the air out of the tires. He was in deep trouble with Dad, as Dad had planned on taking my car home.

Georgia and I went to the Imperial 400 motel on the corner of Main Street and 6th South in Salt Lake. The Grand America Hotel now stands on that block.

Olympus High School

Well, I got through the posting about my junior high years without too much pain. So here goes on the high school era.

I attended Olympus High School from September 1959 until June of 1962. There were many highs and lows while I was a student there. I still remember the school motto, "With freedom comes responsibility." I truly believe that.

Sophomore Year
One of the highlights of every young man's sophomore year was drivers' ed. We actually got to drive. The car I drove in was a 1960 Pontiac. The first day out on the road in the car, I felt that I was too close to the side of the road. I only felt comfortable in the middle of the road. The instructor had to keep pulling the wheel to the right to get me into the proper lane. I overcame that tendency by the second time behind the wheel. I eventually passed my driver's license test the summer after I completed the sophomore year.

Seminary that year was Old Testament with Brother Max Moffat. He made the subject fun. I still remember learning the order of all the books. I think I can still recite them up through the major prophets. I didn't ever get the minor prophets down.

For math that year I had Mr. Jensen for geometry. I loved it. He was an excellent teacher, and by the end of the first grading period, we were ahead of the advanced math class that many of my friends were in. But he had bought a dairy farm in Heber City, which he had hired a manager to run. That didn't work out well and he had to quit teaching half way through the year to run his farm. We had a series of substitute teachers the rest of the year, and made almost no additional progress.

I also took a typing class at the encouragement from Mom. She had taught me a little before on our little portable typewriter at home. I was able to stay ahead of the class on speed tests for the first few weeks. But when I got to 30 words per minute I hit a plateau. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get any faster. My old problem with poor finger dexterity had bit me again, just like when I tried to learn to play the piano. I still type about the same speed, today. I did learn touch typing and it has been a great blessing through all the years.

I did have a lot of friends at Olympus, but I was still suffering from shyness, and from problems with Dad at home. One of the boys who had tormented me was giving me a hard time after a class, and I pushed him down, hard, into some of the desks. Then I just walked away. He was very nice to me after that. The boys who had been so cruel in junior high were not at the high school. The worst of them were in juvenile detention for some really bad things they had done. The one who seemed to hate me the most ended up killing himself and some others, including a couple of police officers, when he grabbed the steering wheel and forced the police car into oncoming traffic while being transported between court and the detention center in Ogden. He thought he could escape that way. No seat belts in cars at that time.

Junior Year
My English teacher, Mr. Lynn Reading, was also one of the coaches. He thought it would be good to give more boys the chance to participate in sports, so he started an intramural program. There were 2 divisions, a team division, and an individual division. I didn't know enough people who were competing in team sports, so I only entered the individual events. But I entered every one: golf, tennis, swimming, track, rifle shooting, table tennis, badminton, bowling, skiing, chess. There may have been others, also. I did well enough at enough of them to win the first place trophy in the individual division. In high school it was socially important for a boy to be a jock. That success helped my self esteem. I didn't get to keep the trophy. Mr. Reading took it to get it engraved for me, but he moved away and I never saw it again.

My poor study habits carried on from the years before. I got by, but I could have done much better. I frequently forgot assignments, or put them off until the last minute and did them sloppily, so my grades were not as good as I could have. My friends in the advance placement classes moved further and further ahead of me.

For Seminary, I had Brother Olsen. He was very enthusiastic and I enjoyed my New Testament studies. For my class essay, I wrote about the Savior, and referenced Jesus the Christ by James E. Talmage. I'm afraid I copied too much from the book, because I remember the teacher's comment on the paper, "Next time more Hippen, and less Talmage!"

All 3 years at Olympus I took Spanish. I had started that in 8th grade at Evergreen Jr with Mr. Cooper. Mr. Cooper had been a pretty good teacher. He had also introduced us to Mexican cooking by taking us to the Casa de Tampico restaurant at the end of each year. I went with other students to the BYU campus to participate in the "Festival of Foreigh Languages" that the Y put on each year. I loved the college atmosphere. Every year I spent the time with Dave Powers at the competition. I remember having a comment on one of my presentations that I spoke Spanish with an Italian accent. However, the Spanish teacher at Olympus was not a good teacher. We never made any progress, because he never had us practice speaking. We called him "The Berb Brain." All we ever did in class was conjugate "berbs" (verbs, with a Spanish accent.)

I also got involved in more serious science classes. I took physics and chemistry. Mr. Poulsen was the physics teacher. He was quite good and I did well in his class. He invited me to join his advanced physics class the next year. I loved being in an advanced class.

Senior Year
My last year at Olympus was much better. I had better teachers for one thing. I dated more regularly, although it was still a painful experience to ask a girl out.. The main other thing was the swimming team.

Olympus had never had a swim team before. We didn't have a pool. But arrangements were made to use the Granite High School pool, and a coach was called. The coach was Mr. Sullivan, who had been my chemistry teacher the previous year. We had a pretty good team, especially considering that Mr. Sullivan had no training as a swimming coach, and we were limited to 3 days per week practice. At the end of the year we placed 5th at the state championship. I swam breaststroke as my primary stroke. Gerry Carlson, whose father ran a swim school, was the other breaststroker. I occasionally beat him. I also swam individual medley at times. That's 2 lengths each of butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle crawl.

In seminary I had Brother Groberg. He lived in the East Mill Creek 1st Ward, so I knew who he was long before I had him as a teacher. We studied the Book of Mormon for the first half of the year, then Doctrine and Covenants and Church History the second half. Brother Groberg had a reputation of being very boring. He did have a monotone voice, and showed little personality in his teaching, but he was not as bad as I expected from hearing him speak in church.

My English teacher was Mrs Clemmons. She was brilliant. She was a Vassar College graduate. I was familiar with Vassar, because my cousin, Kathryn Stein was going there that same year. Vassar had the highest entrance standards and the toughest curriculum of any liberal arts school in the country. It was an all girls school. The first week of class she passed out a list of about 100 classic books that she said were required reading for anyone going to Vassar. She said every girl going there was expected to read them all before starting as a freshman. She had us all check off the ones we had read. I had read 6 or 7 of them. But that was more that anyone else in any of her classes, so I started out on a very good footing with her.

We studied Shakespeare that year. Macbeth was the main point of study, but we studied parts of several other of his plays and many of his sonnets. We also studied other British authors, like Chaucer, and Bacon. For one of our term papers, we were given the choice of an essay on Macbeth or to write a Shakespearean sonnet. There were other choices also. I intended to write the essay on Macbeth, but put it off until later, and then forgot about it. Most of the other students wrote the essay. The morning of the day it was due, one of my friends asked me how I did on the paper. He could tell from the look of panic on my face that I had forgotten it. I decided the only choice I had time for was a Shakespearean sonnet. I had read all of his sonnets so I was very familiar with the format and style. The subject of my sonnet was 'virtue'. I cranked it out in the few minutes after I finished lunch. My friend was surprised when I handed in the assignment, but he was furious when I got the top grade in the class on it. Mrs. Clemmons actually read it to the class before she handed our papers back to us.

That was the only year she taught high school English. The following year she was teaching at the University of Utah. I was blessed to have her.

I started dating Cheryl Cutler that year. Her best friend was Georgia Smith. I had called Georgia for a date earlier, but she was in the hospital having her appendix out when I called. By the time I worked up the courage to call her again, she was dating another friend of mine, Paul Pitts, our bishop's son. We were encouraged to double date as much as possible by our church leaders, so it was just natural for Cheryl and me to get together with Paul and Georgia. We dated often, many times just Friday nights at Cheryl's house for ice cream and to watch the Friday night horror movies that were very popular on TV at that time. (That was the inspiration for Michael Jackson's Thriller.) We also went to all the church dances together, and eventually were called as Ward Dance Directors, all 4 of us. The problem was, I found myself liking Paul's date more than my own. Much more. But I was too good a friend to try and cut in on him then.

I tried to break up with Cheryl towards the end of the year. I did it very clumsily, and I probably hurt her feelings. Then Georgia asked me to ask Cheryl out for a special occasion, Jr. Prom, I think. I then realized that I had fallen for Georgia. I did ask Cheryl out again. I did it because I would do anything for Georgia. But she was still going with Paul.

I also took a couple of other girls out that year. One was Marjorie Debenham. At first I really enjoyed her, but after a few dates, her giddiness started to wear on my nerves. Her mother was also putting pressure on me to make some kind of commitment to her. I was definitely not ready for that.

I started school an hour early that year. My advanced physics class started an hour before the regular school day. We had a great time there. It was all laboratory work, and we designed our own projects and experiments to demonstrate various principles. One very cold winter morning we got to class and the heat had gone off in the night. It was barely above freezing in the room. Mr. Poulsen turned on some of the gas jets that we used for powering bunsen burners, and lit them! We had several 2-3 foot long torches going all at the same time. Warmed the room up pretty quickly.

I grew a lot, physically. When I started as a sophomore I was about 5 ft 2 in. When I started my junior year I was 5 ft 6 in and weighed 135 pounds. When I started my senior year I was 6 ft 1 in and still weighed 135 pounds. My entire junior year, and especially the summer between those years, I was tired all the time. I could sleep 12 hours a day, easily. The rapid growth took all my energy. When we went outside for gym the fall of my senior year, I had difficulty running because I was not used to the size of my body. I felt like I was falling over forward all the time I was trying to run. Being on the swim team helped me catch up by strengthening my muscles. I was still only about 145 pounds when I graduated.

Our graduation was a big deal. It was one of the largest graduating classes in the state. I think it was over 700 graduates. After graduation, Jeff Anderson, Charlie Nielson, and I took dates to Charlie's house for dinner and games late into the morning hours. I do not remember who any of our dates were.

I started working at the Holiday Neighbor newspaper during my junior year. I delivered bundles of newspapers to the carrier boys. I started using Mom's '52 Buick, then our '54 Chrysler Imperial, and eventually in my '57 Chevy. I made about $20 per week. I saved more than half of everything I earned, and used it to buy the Chevy and to pay tuition for my first year of college. I kept that job for about 3 years.

Junior High

This part of my life story I have been putting off as long as possible. But now is the time to suck it up, quit feeling sorry for myself, and just write it!

We were moving into our house in East Mill Creek when I started 7th grade at Evergreen Jr. High. The first week or two was ok. I met some good future friends. Don Cowan and I kind of raced walking up Evergreen Avenue. I was ahead of him, walking alone. He decided he wanted to pass me. I heard him coming up behind me and I decided to not let him pass. We ended up almost running up the hill until we started laughing at the situation.

Jeff Anderson and Charlie Nielson stopped by the house and introduced themselves. They ended up being some of the best, most loyal friends I had for the next 8 years.

I started going to church regularly. Sister Barney was my first teacher. I was still in Primary for the first few weeks, and she saw to it that I completed my requirements for Primary graduation.

I also walked past the East Mill Creek library on my way to and from school every day. I got a library card and made it a habit to stop there and check out books on a regular basis. My favorite author that first year was Jim Kjelgard. He wrote about dogs, Irish setters mostly, and forest animals. His stories made their lives sound very interesting.

My study habits in 7th grade kind of slipped. I read a lot, and I watched a lot of TV. But I didn't organize myself and didn't apply myself very consistently to my studies. In my English and history class I succumbed to teasing from a boy who sat near me. It seemed that I always retaliated against him just as the teacher turned around, so I was frequently in trouble.

In my first Home Room I was seated next to Bill Haskins. He and I became good friends for the next several years. I even nominated him for 7th grade president, the class voted for him, and I became his campaign manager. I had no idea how to do that. I was also too shy to ask for help, so the campaign didn't go very well. He didn't win.

I don't know why I suddenly became shy. I had not been that way before, but I became terribly shy. I guess it had something to do with teenage hormones. I was afraid to talk to girls. I was afraid to talk to adults. I was afraid of my teachers. All the things I'd done successfully before then left my memory, and I lost all self confidence. Things were not very good at home. Dad was not acting nicely. His friends became more important than his family. He seemed to get very hard on me and I was always in trouble at home. He wasn't interested in helping me with any of my school work, but would yell at me and punish me if I didn't do it right. He became antagonistic toward the Church. I couldn't seem to do anything right. I was still basically happy. Happy was my natural state. But I was also quite miserable much of the time.

I kind of withdrew into a shell. I read a lot, and watched TV. I went to school, church, and not much else. Withdrawing was not the best thing to do. It just made things worse.

I made my first enemies in 7th grade. There were a few social groups, and I didn't seem to fit in any of them. The group I was most afraid of were the 'greasers'. I thought I could befriend them by combing my hair like they did. Mom was my barber, so I was not able to carry that out well. The 'greasers' just laughed at me. A couple of the worst of them started bullying me, and my shyness put me at a great disadvantage. The only time I tried to retaliate, I just made them mad, then I became even more afraid.

The other groups were the 'betas', the 'brains', and the 'jocks'. The betas were the rich kids who set the fashion trends. Mom bought all my clothes, and I was not 'in' with the expensive fashions the betas wore. Beta was derived from the Greek letter and indicated that these kids were destined to be fraternity members in college. They also were the kids with the most self confidence, so I didn't fit in with them in any way.

The brains were the top students. I fit in with them socially, but my study habits made me so I didn't fit in with them very well, either. They were the guys I hung out with. I ate lunch with them. But they left me behind when it came to grades. I just had no self discipline at this time in my life.

I didn't fit in with the jocks either. The other boys started filling out and getting taller. I was short and skinny. And I was kind of a weakling. I was afraid to try out for any sports. I lacked coordination. I started practicing basketball in our driveway, and eventually got to be a pretty good shot. But I felt I was too short to actually participate.

Mr.Walker, my 7th grade gym teacher, organized a baseball league for the summer. I was encouraged to participate. All who came were guaranteed positions on a team. I played shortstop and got to be a pretty good fielder. I was still afraid of too many things, especially failure, and that made me very nervous when I played, so I was not able to perform at my best.

There were a lot of others that didn't fit with any of these 'in' groups. I started hanging out with some of them. We kind of formed our own group, the 'losers'. Anyway, that's how I felt. Staying just on the edge of the 'brains' group kept me from becoming a total loser.

Toward the end of 7th grade I got to be friends with Hugh Coleman. He was popular because he was often the class clown. He made people laugh. I invited him to go fishing with Dad and some of Dad's friends for the opening day of fishing season at Moon Lake. Fishing was Hugh's favorite activity so he readily accepted. We had a great time, and Hugh became a great friend.

Hugh and I were locker partners in 8th and 9th grades. At the end of 8th grade Hugh ran for student body office. He used his ability to make people laugh to good advantage and was successful in his campaign. A result of his popularity was that I was no longer 'in' with his new group of friends. We started to drift apart. Toward the end of 9th grade some of the greasers who were bullying me started to intimidate Hugh, also. That pretty much ended our friendship. He no longer wanted to be associated with me if it meant he would be one of their targets also.

Eighth grade is just a blur. Things got worse at home. My grades did not improve. I withdrew even more socially.

Ninth grade was a little better. I was assigned to Mrs. Herman's English class. Mrs. Herman was a short Jewish lady. Many of her students were taller than she was. She also had a reputation of being the toughest teacher in the school. But she really challenged her students to do their best. I accepted her challenge and started to improve my study habits, if only for her class. She singled out those in her class that were doing well, and we kind of became members of an exclusive club. We spent time with her outside of school on special projects. I really enjoyed the attention and I responded with much of my best work.

Some of my classes served me well in later years. As I worked as a handyman, I remembered many of the lessons learned in shop classes. Woodworking shop, sheet metal shop, and electrical shop were all good learning experiences.

I actually started dating in ninth grade. No one at that time had suggested we wait until we were 16. The dates were just to school dances. My first date was with Marian Florence. She was a good friend. Mom had to drive us, since I was still a couple of years away from having a driver's license. I only remember one other date, it was a group date to a girls choice dance. I had never met the girl before she asked me, but she was a friend of Kathy Harrington. I think every boy in the class wished that Kathy would ask them, but she made arrangements for all of her friends to have dates. We all went as a group. I don't remember how we got there. The girl who asked me was a very cute blond. If I hadn't been so shy, I would have had a much better time with her. Now, I can't even remember her name. I did remember. It was Jane Rasmussen. She is now married to Kathy's brother Bob.