David S Ostler Family Background

DAVID S. OSTLER

Personal History

Isaac Grace

Elizabeth Williams Evans

FAMILY BACKGROUND

Grace Family:

 Great Grandfather, Isaac Grace and his family joined the LDS Church in Liverpool, England in 1841, and arrived in Utah about ten years later with his wife, his two daughters and his widowed Sister, Margaret. They were forced to bury at sea, on their journey to New Orleans, a young daughter who was born prior to their departure. Upon their arrival in Salt Lake City, Brigham Young sent them to Parowan. Since Isaac had worked in the shipbuilding industry in Liverpool, Brigham thought that he would be an asset to that new community. After traveling for several days, the family arrived at Salt Creek (now Nephi). Men from Provo had arrived in Salt Creek earlier in the year, had planted crops, built log cabins, and had returned to Provo for their families. Thus, when the Grace family arrived, there were homes present, but no one was living there at the moment. The family camped adjacent to Salt Creek for the night. As Aunt Margaret was getting out of the covered wagon that afternoon, she sprained her ankle. At that point Great Grandfather Isaac said, "This is far enough. We'll settle here." And that's why I was born in Nephi instead of Parowan.

Due to their early arrival in Nephi, my grandfather's sister, Harriet Ann (Aunt Ettie) in April of 1852, was the first white girl born in Nephi. Early in their residency in Nephi, a band of Indians stopped at Salt Creek. They had with them a young Indian boy that they had kidnapped from another Indian tribe. They offered him for sale to the Salt Creek settlers and said they would kill him if the settlers did not buy him. In the history of the early Utah settlements, it is recorded that Indians would often come to the settlements bringing Indian children which had been captured from other Indian tribes. They would offer to sell them to the Mormon settlers, and if the settlers refused, the children would be killed. Great Grandfather purchased him (I have no idea what the purchase price was or what it consisted of). Great Grandfather bought him, named him Alma, and raised him as a son until he died in 1871, a few months after the death of Great Grandfather Grace. My Grandfather often spoke with me about his brother, Alma. Alma had been born in 1852. He lived with the family as a son and brother until November 1871 when he passed away as a result of an illness. It is of interest to note that Great Grandfather Isaac Grace died in May 1871, just six months before the death of Alma.

Great Grandfather Grace died in 1871 when my Grandpa Grace was not quite 14 years old. At that time, it being two years after the completion of the trans-continental railroad at Promontory, Utah, the railroad line to Los Angeles had extended as far south as Santaquin, Utah. That same year the mines at Pioche, Nevada began to be developed, and the closest rail head was at Santaquin. In the winter of 1871, several of the men in Nephi contracted to use their teams and wagons to haul materials from Santaquin to Pioche. My Grandpa, in order to help support his family, used their team and wagon, and took part in this project. I can only guess that without the help of some of the fine men of Nephi, Grandpa would not have been able to do this. I still marvel, however, that he was able to do so much at a very tender age.

Grace Brothers:

The Grace Brothers consisted of Grandpa, Uncle Will and Uncle Charles. Uncle Will lived in Midvale, Utah during all my years living in Nephi. Grandpa and Uncle Charles were involved together in several business enterprises during their lifetimes. They were involved in irrigated farming on land located west of Nephi and in dry land farming on the Levan Ridge. They were also involved in the construction business where they built several school building throughout the southern part of the state. I wish I could remember the locations of these buildings. Grandpa told me about most of them, but I was too young to pay sufficient attention. The Grace Brothers also owned and operated a Lumber Yard in Nephi as an adjunct to their construction business. Later on, Uncle Charles became a dealer for Chevrolet automobiles in Nephi. I remember well, as I was a child in the 1930's, the Chevrolet automobile Uncle Charles drove. I think it was about a 1928 model, and Uncle Charles maintained it in immaculate condition.

Dry Land Farms: Dry land farming was first introduced in Utah on the Levan Ridge where no water was available for irrigation. It was begun at Four Mile Creek by David Broadhead on what became known as the "Perjury Farm." Mr. Broadhead homesteaded his property. Under the homestead program, it was necessary to live on the property for a certain period of time and to prove that the property could actually produce crops. The story goes that Mr. Broadhead, whose residence was in Nephi, would spend alternate nights at his home in town and at his property at Four Mile Creek. In this manner, he met the requirement for being on the property every day. The problem arose when he claimed that he was raising wheat on the property. It was common knowledge that there was too little natural precipitation to raise crops without irrigation. He devised a method where he would raise a crop one year on a given parcel of property, then let it lie "fallow" the following year as it accumulated the necessary moisture. By removing the weeds on the fallow property, but not plowing the property to allow the loss of moisture, it would support a crop the following year. Mr. Broadhead was accused of perjury for attesting to something that "everyone knew" was not true. He was acquitted of the charge. His property became known as "The Perjury Farm" and the Levan Ridge became the area where dry land farming started in Utah.

In the late 1930's an Agricultural Experiment Station was established on the Levan Ridge by the Utah State Agricultural College (now Utah State University) Not long afterward a few trees were planted on the property to honor men who had pioneered the dry land farming procedure. Grandfather Grace was honored by having one of the trees planted in his name. He was also honored, at one time, as the "Farmer of the Year" by Utah State Agricultural College. He also received an honorary degree in agriculture from USAC.

Steam Tractor: Grandfather Grace related to me the experience they had on the Levan Ridge after they had purchased the first steam tractor to be used on the Ridge. They used the tractor to tow the combine wheat harvester. Prior to this time, such equipment had been towed by large teams of horses with the driver perched high on a seat at the front of the machine so he could see and control the teams of horses. Grandfather related to me that they planned on using wood or coal to fuel the steam tractor as it made the first swath around the field. On all subsequent swaths, they planned on using the straw expelled during the earlier swaths to fuel the tractor. There was only one problem with this plan. It did not work! The straw did not provide sufficient heat to provide adequate steam for the tractor's boiler.

An early steam-powered tractor

Combine Harvester: The Grace Brothers also owned the first combine harvester on the Levan Ridge. Prior to this, the harvesting of wheat was a very labor intensive operation. The wheat was cut and bundled by a binder. It was then manually stacked in "shocks" in the field before being loaded onto horse-drawn wagons and transported to stacks where the threshing would later take place. It was then thrown into the threshing machine that removed the wheat. The wheat was bagged into burlap bags and the straw was stacked into a straw pile where it would be used for animal bedding (or in cases of poor crops, as feed for the animals during the winter months.)

An early combine harvester

The combine harvester eliminated most of the laborious operations described above. It cut the wheat in the field, transported it into the thresher, a bagger bagged the grain into burlap bags, and deposited several bags at a time onto a place in the field where they would be loaded onto wagons. The straw was also dumped in piles where it could be transported to a location where it could be used during the winter months.

The first year they used the combine harvester, they learned that the Juab County Mill & Elevator Company would not store the wheat because it had not "sweat." That is, it had not been "shocked" in the field where it could dry thoroughly before it was threshed. That first year, they had to haul the wheat to Manti, some 40 miles away, after it was harvested. In subsequent years, this was not a problem since everyone knew, by that time, that this was a perfectly acceptable way of harvesting wheat. Of course, the same procedure is still used but with much more modern equipment.

Civic and Church Experiences: Grandpa was Mayor in 1910 at the time the first electrical power plant was put into service. The power plant was a water driven power plant located on Salt Creek on the right hand side of the highway in Salt Creek Canyon between Nephi and Fountain Green. It was located just a short distance above Nephi. An additional power plant was added some years later at a location upstream from the original one. Many years later, the city determined to purchase its power from the public utility company servicing the area, and the two power plants were taken out of service. This change was made because of the lower cost and greater reliability of purchasing the power from a larger company with more efficient facilities.

Probably, because of the above experiences, he was called on a mission by the LDS Church to operate the church plantations and sugar factories in Oahu, Hawaii. This assignment came prior to the end of the 19th Century. Operating sugar plantations and sugar factories in the climate of Hawaii was an experience unlike operating a dry land wheat farm in Utah. He related to me that when he arrived, the Church owned three sugar factories, none of which was operational. By concentrating on one of the refineries and cannibalizing from the other two, he was able to make the one operational.

Grandfather Grace sold his Levan Ridge property in the 1920's to a relative who agreed to pay for the property over a period of several years. At about the same time, he made a significant investment in the Nephi National Bank. In the financial collapse that began in 1929 the relative having purchased the Levan Ridge property failed. The bank also failed and the investors were liable to the other stockholders for an amount equal to their original investment. The combination of these events created major changes in his life. In a fairly short period of time, he went from being a very well off man in his retirement to one who had very little in the way of assets.

Originally, Grandpa owned the entire east half of the block in Nephi bordered by Third and Fourth East and First and Second South. By the time I came upon the scene, he had sold a building lot on the South-East corner to Raymond Pace who had built a home on that property. On the balance of the property was the home located on the North-East corner, a hay barn, a granary, several large chicken coops and a brooder coop where young chicks were hatched. I remember, on several occasions, walking with Grandpa to the Utah Poultry Co-op as he pulled a large wooden case of eggs in a coaster wagon. He was also one of the organizers of the Utah Poultry Co-op. The Co-op was located in a fairly modern, brick building located on Track Street (Second North Street) just below Main Street.

Wooden egg crate

Grandpa had several automobiles in his lifetime. This was notable inasmuch as he was almost 50 years of age when the first automobile appeared in Nephi. He drove to Los Angeles several times before there was a paved road. I recall his telling me how pleasant it was to drive to Los Angeles after the road was paved all the way. I often thought about that years later as I was driving up the hill on the two-lane highway behind a tractor-trailer on the Shivwits Indian Reservation south of St. George.

In the later years of his life, Grandpa served as the Stake Patriarch for Juab Stake.

John C Ostler

John Ostler & John C. Ostler: John Ostler joined the LDS Church in 1847 Southwestern England. His son, John Charles, known as John "C" is my Great Grandfather. I understand he was an owner of the Ostler and Allen harness shop, once located on the west side of Main Street a few doors north of First South.

George Oliver Ostler

George Oliver Ostler: John C. Ostler's son, George Oliver Ostler, is my Grandfather. I did not spend much time with him since he disinherited my father shortly after I was born. He and my grandmother were divorced a few years later. I don't know all that occurred between my grandfather and my father. I heard a lot from my father, but I suppose that may have been somewhat biased. My father was, of course, the oldest son in the family, having been born in 1901. During the 'teens' and 'twenties' of that century, my grandfather and his sons established a substantial farming and ranching empire. They owned the McIntyre Ranch which consisted of several thousand acres of mountainous grazing land located just east of Mammoth, Utah. Just east of that, on the other side of the mountain was the Hancock Ranch which they also owned. That farming and ranching operation was situated a few miles south of the southern end of Utah Lake. It was also quite large. Over the mountains to the south of the Hancock Ranch was Dog Valley, a dry land farming operation that they also owned. In addition, they had several hundred acres of irrigated farmland west of Nephi. The latter was, of course, their headquarters.

In addition to the above, they had several thousand sheep that grazed on Federal Land in the East Mountains in the summers and in the West Desert in the winters. My father has related experiences to me of his being the only Ostler Company representative (I suspect this was a rather loosely formed company, probably not incorporated.) who accompanied entire trainloads of sheep to the markets in Kansas City.Grandpa had several automobiles in his lifetime. This was notable inasmuch as he was almost 50 years of age when the first automobile appeared in Nephi. He drove to Los Angeles several times before there was a paved road. I recall his telling me how pleasant it was to drive to Los Angeles after the road was paved all the way. I often thought about that years later as I was driving up the hill on the two-lane highway behind a tractor-trailer on the Shivwits Indian Reservation south of St. George.

My father finished the 8th grade before leaving school. I believe that was quite customary at that time. He went on his mission to Holland about 1922, so he had been active in the family business for several years prior to his departure. According to my father, grandfather Ostler did not want him to go on his mission, held it against him all the time he was gone and continued to do so after his return.  Nevertheless, Dad returned to the company business after his return from his mission.

I don't know the details, but I suspect that grandfather Ostler was highly leveraged financially when the financial crash came in 1929. By 1932 when my father and his father went their separate ways, the financial pressures must have been enormous. I imagine that this precipitated much friction between the two of them. In any event, Dad was booted out of the family business and had to start all over again in 1932. The relationship between him, his father and his brothers was quite "prickly" all during the 1930's and early 1940's.

Grandfather lost the McIntyre Ranch, the Hancock Ranch and the entire Dog Valley property. After he and Grandmother Ostler divorced, he began living with Sadie Cazier in Nephi. I don't know much about her background except for the fact that the Caziers were some of the earliest settlers of Nephi. Incidentally, my father bought the old David Cazier farm in 1932 from the Federal Land Bank after the Cazier family had defaulted on their loan with that institution.

About the only thing I remember about Grandfather Ostler in the late 30's and early 40's was that he had purchased the old Packard automobile previously owned by Dick Evans. It was about a 1929 automobile and was a real classic. I think it had a 12 cylinder engine, was a coupe with a rumble seat in the back. I wish I had it now. It would be fun to restore, and would be worth a fortune.

An interesting thing took place in the 1940's. My Brother, Morris, had a newspaper route and delivered the daily newspaper to Grandfather Ostler's and Sadie Cazier's home. He had been doing this for quite a long period of time. Once when he was making the regular collection, Grandfather asked him whose boy he was. When Morris replied, Grandfather was absolutely speechless. 

The Ostler/Brough Feud

The Ostlers and the Broughs each owned large acreages on opposite ends of Dog Valley, just over the Dog Valley Mountains west of Nephi. Both outfits had several hired men working for them. Apparently, some of the Ostler cattle had gotten into one of the Brough grain fields, and the Ostler crew learned that the Brough crew was driving the Ostler cattle to Nephi to be put into the "stray pen," an enclosure where loose animals were to be kept until their owners retrieved them. The Ostler hands immediately departed on horseback to Dog Valley. They met the Brough hands as they were coming down Dog Valley hill with the Ostler cattle. A confrontation occurred that almost resulted in bloodshed before the Ostler hands were able to take possession of the animals and to return them to the Dog Valley property. My brother, LeRoy, has better details than I about this confrontation.

Growing up in Nephi

GROWING UP IN NEPHI
June 17, 1931 - September 1949

Isaac and Harriet Helen Hudson Grace (Aunt Nell)

Katrine Sorensen Grace

A photo of the Nephi house in it's early years.  

I was born in the home built by my grandfather, Isaac H. Grace, at 394 East First South in Nephi. I was my mother's first child, and she had great difficulty in giving birth. The home, at that time, was owned by grandpa Grace. He and his wife, we called her Aunt Nell, lived in the two East rooms of the home while my parents lived in the rest of the house. Grandfather Grace had married two wives, the first being Helen Hudson or Aunt Nell. The second, who he married much later, was my grandmother, Katrine Sorensen, who died when my mother was only six years old. Grandfather and Aunt Nell had only one child, my aunt Helen, who married H. Val Hoyt. The Hoyts had no children, so I was my grandfather's first grandchild, and was born in his 74th year of age.

A photo of the Nephi house in later years

My Siblings
I grew up as the second child in a family of nine living children. LeRoy, my older brother, and his deceased younger sister, Betty Lou, were children of my father and his first wife, Louise Roth. Louise and BetAdd captionty Lou both died in 1929. I was the first child of my father and his second wife, Anna Grace. The following siblings arrived after me in the following order: Grace Taylor Ostler, John Taylor Ostler, Thomas Morris Ostler, Karen Ostler, Paul Harrison Ostler, Steven Mark Ostler and Kathryn Ostler. Kathryn joined the family only about a year and a half before I departed for college, military service and mission.

David and Grace

LeRoy, David (back), Grace, Morris, John

For more photos of David and his siblings

Grandfather Grace and I
My grandpa Grace and I had a very close relationship during the entire course of my early life. He and Aunt Nell really spoiled me according to the accounts passed on to me by my mother and by my aunt Helen, who also doted on me, and who, I am told, selected my given name. (In the presence of my aunt Helen, my name was always David, not Dave as I usually called myself) I was told that when my sister, Grace, arrived about a year and a half after I was born, Aunt Nell refused to have anything to do with her, stating that she was unwilling to allow herself to become so attached to a child again. Of course, we were not really her grandchildren, but rather the grandchildren of her husband. Grandpa Grace and Aunt Nell had a beautiful fold-down bed of solid oak which folded up against the wall during the day time. As a child, I would often go into their room when I got up in the morning, and crawl into bed with them.
My Grandpa Grace had a rocking chair in which he spent many hours each day. He had a habit of running his thumb nails along the grain of the wood in both arms of the rocking chair. By the time I came on the scene, there were two very pronounced grooves, one in each arm of the chair. I remember his crossing one leg over the other. I would sit on his toe while he would give me a "horsey" ride. I would have to be careful, though, since one of his legs had been broken when he was a young man and had not knit properly. He always told me the problem was that "he had a bone in that leg."  In the mid1960's I discovered Grandpa's old rocking chair in the outside coal bin in Nephi. One of the rockers was missing, and it was about to be discarded. We took it to Salt Lake with us and had it restored. The restorer told me he found inside the
chair a tag from the Port Washington Chair Company of Port Washington, Wisconsin. The tag indicated the Serial Number of the chair, Number 800. Not long after that, I was visiting with my sales representative in Milwaukee, Bill Heth, and told him about the chair. He said, "The Port Washington Chair Company burned down in 1900." So, the chair must have been manufactured sometime before then. The chair is still in our home at the time of this writing. I hope that whoever of my descendants comes into possession of this precious piece of furniture will remember where it came from and why it is so important to me.
My Aunt Nell died in April 1934 when I was almost three years old. I remember someone lifting me up so I could look into her casket which was in our living room at that time. On the day of her funeral, Mother had made arrangements for me to stay during the funeral with a family in the Ward which was the old Nephi South Ward. Of course that did not agree with my opinion of how things should be, so I proceeded to walk home a distance of about six city blocks from the home of the people who were looking after me. I believe I got about half way home when they discovered that I was missing and they came to look for me.

A year or two after Aunt Nell's funeral, I was with my grandfather Grace as he planted two evergreen shrubs at the Vine Bluff Cemetery, one on either side of Aunt Nell's headstone. Some weeks later, my grandfather and I were in the midst of a minor disagreement. Finally, I threatened him with the following, "If you are not careful, I'll plant sagebrush on your grave."

He had stopped driving years before I was born. I remember seeing his old 1922 Dodge motor car stored for years in one of the outbuildings behind our home in Nephi. I recall seeing it towed away one day in the mid 1930's when he sold it to someone. I also remember his telling me of the first time he drove to Los Angeles after the road "had been paved all the way." He said, "It was as smooth as glass all the way." (Years later when I drove between Utah and Southern California on many occasions, driving behind slow tractor-trailer rigs creeping up hills between St. George and Las Vegas, on two-lane highways prior to the completion of the freeway, I would sometimes compare our different viewpoints, as viewed under different circumstances and at different times.) In 1937 when we first moved to the farm iGrandfather Grace and I
My grandpa Grace and I had a very close relationship during the entire course of my early life. He and Aunt Nell really spoiled me according to the accounts passed on to me by my mother and by my aunt Helen, who also doted on me, and who, I am told, selected my given name. (In the presence of my aunt Helen,Grandfather Grace and I
My grandpa Grace and I had a very close relationship during the entire course of my early life. He and Aunt Nell really spoiled me according to the accounts passed on to me by my mother and by my aunt Helen, who also doted on me, and who, I am told, selected my given name. (In the presence of my aunt Helen, my name was always David, not Dave as I usually called myself) I was told that when my sister, Grace, arrived about a year and a half after I was born, Aunt Nell refused to have anything to do with her, stating that she was unwilling to allow herself to become so attached to a child again. Of course, we were not really her grandchildren, but rather the grandchildren of her husband. Grandpa Grace and Aunt Nell had a beautiful fold-down bed of solid oak which folded up against the wall during the day time. As a child, I would often go into their room when I got up in the morning, and crawl into bed with them.
My Grandpa Grace had a rocking chair in which he spent many hours each day. He had a habit of running his thumb nails along the grain of the wood in both arms of the rocking chair. By the time I came on the scene, there were two very pronounced grooves, one in each arm of the chair. I remember his crossing one leg over the other. I would sit on his toe while he would give me a "horsey" ride. I would have to be careful, though, since one of his legs had been broken when he was a young man and had not knit properly. He always told me the problem was that "he had a bone in that leg."  In the mid1960's I discovered Grandpa's old rocking chair in the outside coal bin in Nephi. One of the rockers was missing, and it was about to be discarded. We took it to Salt Lake with us and had it restored. The restorer told me he found inside the
chair a tag from the Port Washington Chair Company of Port Washington, Wisconsin. The tag indicated the Serial Number of the chair, Number 800. Not long after that, I was visiting with my sales representative in Milwaukee, Bill Heth, and told him about the chair. He said, "The Port Washington Chair Company burned down in 1900." So, the chair must have been manufactured sometime before then. The chair is still in our home at the time of this writing. I hope that whoever of my descendants comes into possession of this precious piece of furniture will remember where it came from and why it is so important to me.
My Aunt Nell died in April 1934 when I was almost three years old. I remember someone lifting me up so I could look into her casket which was in our living room at that time. On the day of her funeral, Mother had made arrangements for me to stay during the funeral with a family in the Ward which was the old Nephi South Ward. Of course that did not agree with my opinion of how things should be, so I proceeded to walk home a distance of about six city blocks from the home of the people who were looking after me. I believe I got about half way home when they discovered that I was missing and they came to look for me. my name was always David, not Dave as I usually called myself) I was told that when my sister, Grace, arrived about a year and a half after I was born, Aunt Nell refused to have anything to do with her, stating that she was unwilling to allow herself to become so attached to a child again. Of course, we were not really her grandchildren, but rather the grandchildren of her husband. Grandpa Grace and Aunt Nell had a beautiful fold-down bed of solid oak which folded up against the wall during the day time. As a child, I would often go into their room when I got up in the morning, and crawl into bed with them.
My Grandpa Grace had a rocking chair in which he spent many hours each day. He had a habit of running his thumb nails along the grain of the wood in both arms of the rocking chair. By the time I came on the scene, there were two very pronounced grooves, one in each arm of the chair. I remember his crossing one leg over the other. I would sit on his toe while he would give me a "horsey" ride. I would have to be careful, though, since one of his legs had been broken when he was a young man and had not knit properly. He always told me the problem was that "he had a bone in that leg."  In the mid1960's I discovered Grandpa's old rocking chair in the outside coal bin in Nephi. One of the rockers was missing, and it was about to be discarded. We took it to Salt Lake with us and had it restored. The restorer told me he found inside the chair a tag from the Port Washington Chair Company of Port Washington, Wisconsin. The tag indicated the Serial Number of the chair, Number 800. Not long after that, I was visiting with my sales representative in Milwaukee, Bill Heth, and told him about the chair. He said, "The Port Washington Chair Company burned down in 1900." So, the chair must have been manufactured sometime before then. The chair is still in our home at the time of this writing. I hope that whoever of my descendants comes into possession of this precious piece of furniture will remember where it came from and why it is so important to me.
My Aunt Nell died in April 1934 when I was almost three years old. I remember someone lifting me up so I could look into her casket which was in our living room at that time. On the day of her funeral, Mother had made arrangements for me to stay during the funeral with a family in the Ward which was the old Nephi South Ward. Of course that did not agree with my opinion of how things should be, so I proceeded to walk home a distance of about six city blocks from the home of the people who were looking after me. I believe I got about half way home when they discovered that I was missing and they came to look for me.n the summer months, my Grandpa Grace celebrated his 80th birthday. He continued to live in Nephi during the Summer months, and since he had no other transportation to get from Nephi to the farm on those occasions he wished to visit us, he bought a bicycle and taught himself to ride it, this in the 80th year of his life.

As I write this, I am much older and, hopefully much wiser. How I wish, now, that I had been more attentive during the hours and hours I spent with my Grandpa Grace. He told me so much about his life and his experiences as a young man that I did not retain because of my lack of experience. I do remember his telling me that during the Civil War, the boys in the South Ward and the boys in the North Ward, the two wards being divided by Salt Creek which ran from East to West through Nephi, would line up along the banks of the creek and throw rocks at each other, pretending to be the North and the South.

During World War II, Grandpa read the paper thoroughly each day, and he listened to all the news reports on the radio. He was aware, every day, of what was taking place on all the various battle fronts of the world during the entire course of the war.
Grandpa had lost all of his hair except for a fringe just above his ears. He always wore a toupee. He had a nice gray one which he wore on Sundays when he went to church and when he dressed to go out to other public functions. During the week, however, he wore his old toupee which was a little darker, and, I suppose, matched his hair color from an earlier age. But his everyday toupee had also yellowed with age. I think the only reason he wore his old one around the house was to keep his head warm.
In his younger years, Grandpa had done a lot of building. He and his construction company had, late in the 1890's, built the home in which I was born. He was a very competent carpenter. It was always intriguing to me to watch him saw a board. As he sawed, he would puff out his mouth at about every second saw-stroke to blow away the accumulated saw dust. Both my Brother Roy and I also developed this habit as we would do carpentry work later in our lives.
About the time I was in my Junior or Senior year of High School, Grandpa moved to Provo to live with Uncle Val and Aunt Helen. As he got older, his eyesight began to fail. In 1951, when I was in Korea in the War, Grandpa slipped and fell on the ice on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building owned by Uncle Val. He was taken to the hospital where he developed a pneumonia infection and died on November 14, 1951. I learned of his death by mail from my parents which I received in Korea several miles north of the 3 8th Parallel.
As long as I live, I shall never forget the advice Grandpa gave me shortly after I became sixteen. He said, "David, I hope you always remember all the things you know now, because you will never be smarter than you are now."  I did not grasp the full meaning of his remarks, at that time, but I did as time wore on and I became wiser and not as "smart."

LeRoy T Ostler

My Father
My Father, LeRoy Taylor Ostler was born July 4, 1901, shortly after the turn of the century. His parents were George Oliver Ostler of Nephi and Elizabeth Taylor of Salt Lake City. He distinctly recalled seeing the first automobile drive through Nephi when he was a child. Grandmother Ostler was always proud to be the granddaughter of LDS Church President John Taylor, and knew him quite well in his later years.  Dad grew up in circumstances of wealth, but worked hard from his earliest days farming, sheep ranching and cattle ranching. His parents built a large, two-story home on the southwest corner of First South Street and Second West Street.

LeRoy T and Elizabeth Louise Roth Ostler

 

It was built of sandstone and finished with fine woods on the inside. A barn and corrals for animals were located in the rear of the property, and the Union Pacific Railroad tracks were directly adjacent to and west of the property. The other substantial land holdings of the family were described earlier.  After his return home from his mission in Holland, he married Louise Roth, a member of the church he had met in Rotterdam, Holland. LeRoy was born in 1925, and Elizabeth Louise (Betty Lou) was born in 1927. Both Louise and Betty Lou died in 1929. Dad married my mother, Anna Marie Grace in 1930. They established their home in the West side of Grandfather Grace's home at 394 East 1st South. Grandfather Grace and Aunt Nell lived in the East two rooms on the main floor of the house. I was born there June 17, 1931.
The financial problems and the subsequent economic crash put great strain on Dad's family and caused such hard feelings between him and his father that Dad was expelled from the family business in 1932, in the depth of the early depression.

Anna Marie Grace Ostler

My Mother
My Grandfather Grace married my Grandmother, Katrine Sorensen, about 1903. This obviously took place after the LDS Manifesto, and Mother, Anna Marie Grace, was born in September 1904. The intense activities of the U.S. Federal government following the Manifesto caused enormous identity and insecurity problems for Mother. She and her mother lived in Salt Lake City where she went by the name of Ann Jones. Her own mother died before Mother was seven years of age. Mother then lived with Grandpa's sister, Aunt Ettie Pyper, in Salt Lake. It may be of interest to some that Aunt Ettie was the first white girl born in the town of Nephi. Mother was never able to reveal her own identity during all of her childhood and teen years. After graduating from BYU, Mother taught school in Roosevelt, Utah. She met Dad on one of her visits to Nephi, and they were married in 1930. At that time, Dad and LeRoy were alone following the premature deaths of Louise and Betty Lou. Mother often said of LeRoy that she loved that little boy and he needed a mother. She never considered LeRoy to be a step-son, and she could not have loved him more if he had been her own son.
Mom and Dad were a good team. They both endured great hardship during the depression years and while rearing a large family of nine children. Most women would never have tolerated living for six months at a time, in a three-room farm house with no plumbing and no electricity, and having to travel to town by farm wagon to do laundry at two-week intervals.
Mom maintained whatever financial records that were kept and prepared the tax returns each year.
Later on, after most of us had left the nest, Mother became the Ward Relief Society President. I was never at home during this period of time, but several of my high school classmates have commented, over the years, on what a compassionate and kind person she was to everyone who needed assistance.

Largely because of the early experiences in her life, mom had a really low self-image. Throughout her life she always underplayed her own importance, but she was always a source of encouragement to her family and to others.

The Farm

Dad bought the old Cazier farm from the Federal Land Bank in 1932. It had been operated since shortly after the settlement of Nephi in 1851. The farm consisted of 80 acres and was located about one mile west of the Union Pacific railroad line which went through the west part of Nephi. The farm had country roads running on the north and the south sides of the property. Later on the county built a county road from north to south through the middle of the farm. This county road connected all of the East/West roads that served the farms west of Nephi. The farmyard and home were located in the Northeast corner of the property about a mile west of the city limits on the road that left the Nephi City limits as Fifth South.

The first year Dad owned the farm it was so run down and covered with weeds he could not raise any crops. He worked all day and late into the night all summer long burning off the tumble weeds so he could begin to farm the property. Years later, neighbors in Nephi reminded me that they remembered all those evenings when Roy Ostler worked most of the night burning off the tumble weeds. Some of the farm was planted in alfalfa, but it was old and thin. Until we could get some new alfalfa started, we did the best we could with the old alfalfa fields, but they were still full of June grass even after Dad got the tumble weeds burned off. Much of the land was also covered with rocks. From the gravely evidence still available, it appeared that an old creek bed had once meandered through the property from the east to the west. We children spent hours during the early days on the farm picking up rocks, loading them on the hay wagon and hauling them off so the blades in the mowing machine would not be damaged by the rocks.
In about May of 1938, just before I finished the First Grade in school, we moved to the farm for the summer and returned to our home in Nephi late in the fall. In subsequent years, we would move to the farm as soon as the weather mellowed in the spring, generally in March or April and often returning as late as December. Moving day usually came without much advance notice. Typical of this was the move we made from the farm to Nephi late in one fall. I think it was in November or early December. As I recall, it had already snowed a couple of times. Dad had been doing some work on the state road, away from the farm, for which he received some cash income. When Dad arrived at home that evening it was already dark, but Mom and Dad decided that it was time to move. Each of the older children loaded their belongings into their "box" and into their individual dresser drawer. The few items that could not be contained into those two containers were carried separately. The dressers were not moved; only the drawers were removed, along with their contents, and were loaded into the back of the pickup truck. Upon arrival at our home in Nephi, the contents in the dresser drawers were transferred from the "farm dresser drawer" to the "city dresser drawer," and the farm drawers were returned to the home at the farm on the return trip. Of course, the "boxes" had to be transferred only from the edge of the kitchen table on the farm to the edge of the kitchen table in the city.  As I recall, it required only two or three round trips in the pickup truck to complete the move, all in one evening. From my viewpoint, it was always good to be back in our home in town.
We continued moving twice each year until the late fall of 1947. In the summer of 1948 we did not move to the farm, but remained at our home in Nephi. It is interesting to note that the distance between our home in town and the farm is only two miles. In 1938 Dad felt it was important to save that four mile round trip each day. In the beginning, of course, we did not have a car or a truck, so it probably made sense at that time. It was not until nine years later that we could persuade him that the four mile round trip was not that important.
The first time we moved from Nephi to the farm, we did not have a car or a truck, and we used the rubber-tired hay wagon to move to the farm. There was no electricity at the farm and no laundry facilities so Mother had to go back to our home in Nephi to do the laundry. Since it was necessary to use the hay wagon for this also, she could not do this oftener than every two weeks or so. I believe it was late in the summer of 1938 that Dad bought a new 1937 model International Harvester 3/4 ton pickup truck from Marden Pearson, the IHC dealer in Richfield. LeRoy and I went with Dad to get the truck. It was painted dark green with black fenders. I remember that the truck was stored in a building in Marysvale.
The house on the farm was located some distance from the street with the cattle corrals and related buildings located between the street and the house. The house had been built originally of adobes and had later been covered with unpainted wood of about 1" x 12" lumber with wooden strips covering the seams between the boards. It had three large rooms consisting of a kitchen and two bedrooms. There was also a pantry and a root cellar below the pantry. There were three porches, one of which had been enclosed and it was where we had the cream separator. In addition, there was a garage attached to the West side of the house that was enclosed by walls on the south and the west sides, but was open on the north. The bedrooms were interesting in that you had to go through one bedroom in order to go between the kitchen and the other bedroom. The bedroom adjacent to the kitchen was used by our parents and two of the smaller children in baby beds. It also doubled as the Living Room in the daytime.
The only heat in the house was provided by the cooking stove in the kitchen. There was no electricity and no running water. A well with a hand pump was in the milk house located about fifty feet from the house. An old brass bucket stood on the kitchen counter that was kept filled with water. This was our drinking water, the water we used to keep the teakettle filled and the water we used to temper the teakettle water when we used the wash basin on the wash stand to wash up. The home was always quite pleasantly cool in the summers. Behind the house to the south was a grove of locust trees. It was always cool and refreshing under the trees during the summer, and the blossoms were very fragrant in the springtime. A "deluxe" outhouse stood about 100 feet from the rear of the house. It was outfitted to accommodate Large, Medium and Child-size specifications.
The main bedroom was where the old hand-crank Victorola record player was located. There were a lot of old records dating from the 1920's and 1930's that we almost wore out because we played them so often. One old record, The Two Black Crows, was a black comedy routine that we listened to so often that Grace and I knew the entire routine by memory. When LeRoy was in the service, he made a recording of his voice on a small disc that he sent home. We attempted to play it on the old Victorola, not realizing that it was designed to be played on much newer equipment than the old Victorola with the old-fashioned steel needles. Unfortunately, we could not hear LeRoy's message, and we also ruined the record by attempting to play it on the old Victorola.

Adjacent to the home was a pump house with a pump room in the west end and a milk room in the east end. The milk room had two large vats which had been built for keeping several 10 gallon cans of milk cool by running fresh water from the well through the vats. At one time, an engine-driven pump had been used to pump the water, but for the first several summers we lived on the farm, we had only a hand pump, and the well was used only for our culinary water.

Saturday night was "bath night" and we each had to take a bath, whether we needed it or not, in the galvanized bath tub which was brought in for the occasion and placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. The fortunate ones were those who had the privilege of being the first or, perhaps, the second one to use the bath water.

The tea kettle was not adequate to heat all the water necessary for "bath night" so mother used a wash boiler to heat additional water for this purpose. Of course, the heat source was the wood burning kitchen stove that mother used for all her cooking, canning etc The hot kitchen stove did not allow the house to preserve its normal coolness in the summer time when mother was doing a lot of cooking or preparing for Saturday night baths.

Each of the older children had a wooden "box" which had a hinged lid. The boxes had been built as a place to store some of our personal belongings as well as a seat to sit on at the kitchen table. When we first began living on the farm, our sole light source was a single, old, flat-wicked, kerosene lamp that sat on top of the kitchen table. Later on, we acquired a Coleman lamp with a mantle which vastly improved the light output from the lamp. These two lamps, in their turn, provided us with the light to do our school homework during the months in the spring and the fall when we were still in school, but lived on the farm.

About 75 feet west of the pump house was the granary. This building had three large grain bins, each about eight feet tall and about 8' by 10' in floor dimension. A hallway ran the full length of the building, giving access to the openings in the grain bins. These openings were about 3' wide and were designed to have 1" x 12" boards added as the level of the grain rose within the bins. As more grain was added to the grain bins at harvest time, it was necessary to carry the burlap bags of grain up a flight of temporary steps made of other full bags of grain and empty them into the top of the bin until the bin was almost filled.

In the Northeast corner of the granary was the shop/junk room/miscellaneous storage area. This was the place you came to find the hammer, the saw, the pliers, the crescent wrench, the ax, shovels, forks, nails, bolts and almost anything else you might be looking for that was not in the pump house, in the milk room or on the back porch of the house.

The other buildings on the property consisted of several straw sheds, a description of which will appear later, a chicken coop and a silo for corn silage. Along the ditch bank at the north property line next to the road, were several large apple trees which produced small yellow apples. Generally, wild roses and willows lined the ditch banks along all the field lanes.

The straw sheds referred to earlier had probably been built in pioneer times. They provided shade for the animals in the summertime and protection against the wind, rain and snow in the wintertime. In summer, only the milk cows were present, the beef cattle all being in the mountains on the summer range. The straw sheds were constructed by planting large cedar (juniper) upright posts about every ten feet apart along both sides of the structure. Large horizontal quaking aspen poles were run between the cedar post at the front of the structure and the cedar post opposite at the rear of the structure. Bridging these large poles were smaller aspen poles laid at right angles to the large poles and spaced 1-2 feet apart. Willows were placed at right angles to the smaller aspen poles, and upon the willows straw had been spread, the roof being flat with no pitch for drainage. Evidently, the straw had been placed quite deep inasmuch as it was very densely compressed and was still about 12" - 18" in depth when we acquired the farm.

The straw sheds generally had a north wall made of "native" (unfinished) boards to minimize the effect of the north, winter winds. However, the spaces between the boards still caused the sheds to be quite drafty. The ancient nails used to secure the boards to the cross members were square in shape, and were made of very soft iron. The "Horse Stable" and the "Cow Shed" were enclosed on all sides for better protection. The straw sheds kept the sun out in the summer and kept the worst of the storm out in rainy or snowy weather, but a couple of days after the storm, it would begin raining inside the straw shed. It would continue to "rain" inside the structure as the water seeped through the compressed straw roof.

Another aspect of the "straw sheds" which should be described is the fact that the English Sparrows had burrowed out hundreds of holes in the underside of the straw. Each year the holes were used for sparrow nests. Sparrows were always considered to be pests, and it was important to control their population. Thus, each spring after the eggs were laid and hundreds of young sparrows had been hatched, we boys would get step ladders, reach up into the nests, bring out the eggs or the young sparrows and destroy them. Despite all this, the sparrows continued to multiply from year to year.

Several years later we began construction of a new building to shelter the cattle. We built a concrete lined ditch for the irrigation water and right next to the ditch we constructed a concrete lower wall with a cinder block upper wall. This project was never completed, and a roof was never built to give the cattle their required protection from the winter elements.

We also had several ducks. The hens would usually build their nests on the ditch banks. When the baby ducks hatched, it was only natural that they would soon jump into the water and begin swimming. Unfortunately, the ditch banks were so steep that the baby ducks could not get out of the water again, so they were often swept away and drowned. For this reason, we attempted to get the mother ducks to build their nests away from the ditch banks.

We obtained some Guinea fowls after we had lived on the farm for a few years. These were extremely noisy birds that roosted in the trees around the house at night. They were an efficient alarm system. Whenever anyone or anything entered the property at night they would create such a racket that we were all alerted. Once someone asked Dad how he could tell the difference between the male and the female guinea fowls. His response was, "If he chases her, it's a male, but if she chases him it's a female." That sounds like something Will Rogers might have said.

My farm experiences were not ones that I look back upon with fondness. Farm work, as I saw it, was not rewarding economic activity, but merely constant work. I didn't know what I wanted to become or what I wanted to do for a living, but I knew I wanted to get away from the farm as soon as I could.

The falling out between my father, his father and his brothers has been covered earlier. My father obviously made significant contributions to the family operations. He left school at the end of the eighth grade and worked full-time in the family business until he left on his mission. In our times, it seems foolish for him to have stopped his schooling so early, but from his and his father's viewpoint, the family was enjoying enormous financial success without the benefit of a formal education on the part of my grandfather or my father. My father was a very bright man, and one who was not satisfied to continue to do things the way they had always been done. In later years, however, as my formal education continued, I was able to notice that Dad just did not have the decision making tools necessary to help him make good business decisions. As a result of this, after he became more liquid financially, he made a lot of investment decisions that were not sound. He seemed to be a target for every charlatan who came down Highway 91. I am not certain he ever really understood the reason that most of his investment "opportunities" went sour was the fact that he was unable to properly evaluate the probability of success at the time he made the investments.

Dad was also a self-taught veterinarian. He had years of experience in this sort of work while looking after the veterinary needs of the family's own cattle, sheep, hogs and horses. Even though Nephi had a licensed veterinarian in town, many people continued to ask Dad for help in treating their animals. After the war, when penicillin first became available, Dad used the new wonder drug with great success. The licensed vet, at that time, refused to use penicillin. I was never aware of the details of the following, but I understood from Dad that he was put in jail, at one time, at least overnight, for practicing veterinary medicine without a license. I believe that, after that, Dad did not bill for his services, but, instead, indicated what the normal fee should be, and the people generally paid that amount. Of course, everyone did not pay, but he still did the work. It was always frustrating for us boys to have milking time come when Dad was out treating someone's animals. When that occurred, it meant that we had to do the milking all by ourselves, without Dad's help.

Later on after I had left Nephi, I understand that dad was asked by Doctor Steele to treat some animals that he kept on his ranch located just off the highway in Star, Utah. I understand that at this time Dad and Dr. Steele agreed that Dad would treat all of Dr. Steele's animals without charge and that Dr. Steele would provide medical care for Mom and Dad at no charge. I think Dr. Steele treated Dad without charge later on as he lay dying in the hospital in Nephi.

Following the breakup with his own family, my father had to begin all over again in 1932. He purchased from the Federal Land Bank, the old David Caner property, an 80 acre irrigated farm located about a mile west of the Nephi city limits which was accessed by going west on Fifth South Street. The farm was very run down and was covered with Russian Thistles. He worked like a man possessed to make the farm productive again. He would work all day, and night after night he would burn the thistles so he could replant the alfalfa which had once been grown on the farm... In the spring of 1938, we moved from our home in Nephi to the house on the farm, and we remained there until late in the fall when it became so cold that we had to return to our home in town. We continued this practice of moving to the farm every spring and returning to Nephi every fall until 1948 when I finished my Junior Year in High School.

Early Experiences on the Farm

After school let out in the summer of 1938 we moved to the farm. I got my first job for pay shortly afterwards. I was hired to ride the derrick horse during the first crop of hay at the farm of Gene and Morgan Lunt. Their farm was about a half mile east of our farm. When harvesting hay, the alfalfa was first cut down with a horse-drawn mowing machine. It was then raked into piles with a horse-drawn dump rake that covered the width of two mowing machine swaths. The dump rake then crossed the field at a 90 degree angle from the first operation to pile the hay into single swath piles. This would allow the hayrack to get through the field without running over and ruining the piles of hay. The hayrack was a horse-drawn, flat-bed wagon. It had a post of some sort in the front to allow the lines (used to drive and control the horses) to be attached. When the wagon was fully loaded with hay, the post allowed the driver to climb to the top of the load where he could drive the team of horses pulling the hayrack into the haystack yard. Frequently the hayrack had an entire frame at the front and rear of the wagon to make it easier to keep the hay from sliding off the front or rear of the wagon.
As the team of horses pulled the wagon through the field, persons with pitchforks worked on each side of the wagon. Their job was to pick up a hay pile, throw it onto the wagon and clean up the loose hay before moving on to the next pile. It was important for the pitchers to place the piles neatly on the wagon as it was loaded so the load was neat and well balanced. On the wagon was the "hay tromper." This was usually a boy whose job it was to tromp or compact the hay so the load was tight and neat, and so as much hay as possible could be loaded onto the wagon

When the wagon was fully loaded, it was driven to the stack yard where it was off-loaded onto the haystack. This was accomplished with the use of the hay derrick and a Jackson Fork. The Jackson Fork was attached to a steel cable that ran up through pulleys on the derrick and was attached to a "single tree" to which the derrick horse was hitched. My first job, referred to above, was to ride the derrick horse. When the derrick horse went forward, the Jackson Fork lifted a forkful of hay the width of the wagon and moved it up to the top of the hay stack where another person, the "stacker" was working. The stacker would push the suspended forkful of hay to the desired location and then call to the man on the wagon to "Let it go." The man on the wagon would then pull on the trailing rope which released the lock on the Jackson Fork, allowing the hay to fall onto the stack. The man on the wagon would then use the "trip rope" to pull the fork back to the edge of the hay stack. The derrick horse boy would then back up the derrick horse, allowing the Jackson Fork to drop down to the wagon. This process would be repeated until the load on the wagon had been transferred to the hay stack. It is apparent that it required a minimum of three persons to put in a hay crop. On occasion, however, when more than one wagon was used, six or more persons were involved.

Notice the boy in front of the horse, leading the horse
back and forth to pull up the derrick

On my first job as derrick horse boy, I was paid $.25 per day_ I soon graduated, however, to the position of hay tromper, and my wages doubled to $.50 per day. Even though this paid more, I thoroughly disliked the job. The hay did not consist entirely of alfalfa, but also contained a lot of June Grass. The June grass seeds consisted of very sharp stickers that got into my socks and made the work very painful. I remember shedding lots of tears in this work experience. As an underweight seven-year old I was also not heavy enough to really tromp the hay well.
I received a couple of personal checks for this work which I proceeded to store away. It was not until my older brother, LeRoy told me that I should either cash the checks or deposit them into a bank that I realized that the check, itself, was not money, but that it could be exchanged for money. It was at this tender age, however, that I made an important discovery. I opened a savings account at the Commercial Bank of Nephi and soon discovered that the bank paid interest on the deposit. This was income that could be accumulated without actually working for it. Thus, even at the ripe old age of seven years, I came to realize that if one had sufficient funds invested, he could survive without having to work at all. Another thing I learned at this tender age was this; I had no idea what I wanted to become in life, but I did know that I wanted to get off that farm as soon as possible.

All of the boys in the family worked on the farm, putting in our hay crops, the pea crop, the grain crops and the corn for silage. We did not expect to be paid for this work, and we never were. When our own crop had been harvested, however, we were able to work for neighbors where we were compensated. The money from these efforts was what got each of us through the school year. I remember with fondness the experiences I had working for Clyde Shaw and Wilson Glazier. Mr. Glazier was our Algebra and Geometry teacher, and was considered by all to be a very stern and demanding teacher, so it was an interesting experience working for him in the hay field, etc. where I found him as well as Clyde Shaw to be wonderful employers.

In the summer of 1938 Dad purchased a new 1937 International Harvester pickup truck from Pearson & Crofts in Richfield. Dad, LeRoy and I went down to get the truck and drive it home. I remember that the truck was stored in a barn in Marysvale. After we took delivery on the truck, we stayed with friends of dad's in Richfield, and drove home the following day. This truck was our only means of transportation for the next ten years except for a couple of saddle horses and our hay wagon. It remained in use until long after I left home in 1950. Dad was not much into maintenance of automotive equipment as became apparent later when we acquired tractors. I don't think the kingpins in the front axle of the truck were ever greased. The truck became especially more difficult to steer as the years went by. By the time I was old enough to determine the problem, it was impossible to force lubricant into the grease fittings.

Harvesting Wheat, Barley and Oats
In the fall of the year the grain crops matured and were ready for harvest. A farmer who owned a grain binder would be contracted to harvest the grain crops for us. The binder cut the stalks of grain with a cutter bar, and the stalks were forced to fall so the heads all fell in the same direction onto a canvas apron. The stalks were transported by another apron to the device that bound the stalks into sheaf's, tied them with binder twine and dropped them onto a cradle where they were contained until several sheaf's were dropped in a pile onto the ground.
The next operations were very labor intensive. We would walk through the fields and stack up the bundles upright into "shocks" where they would remain until they became perfectly dry. At this time we would load the bundles onto the wagons, take them to the stack yard and stack the loads into grain stacks. Later, a contract threshing operator would visit with the threshing machine and a tractor to provide belt driven motive power. The tractor was placed some distance from the grain stacks and the threshing machine so that possible sparks from the exhaust would not cause a fire to start in the combustible straw. A long belt connected the tractor to the threshing machine.
A man on the grain stack, with a pitchfork, tossed the bundles of grain into the intake conveyor of the threshing machine. The machine separated the grain from the straw, blowing the straw into a large straw pile and conveying the grain via a conveyor to a platform where a man would sack the grain into burlap bags and tie the bags with twine. The bags were then taken with a wagon or the truck to the granary where the bags were unloaded and carried onto the grain bins. It will be apparent to the reader that each grain bundle had to be handled three different times and each burlap bag of grain had to also be handled three different times. With this information, it is easy to see the value of a combine harvester that eliminated a least half of these manual operations.

Learning to Drive
I had my first driving experience with this International truck. First I need to explain some things before I describe that experience. We fed our beef cattle for market all winter long, using the hay and grain we had harvested during the summer from our own farm. Each spring, the corrals had a great deal of manure that needed to be cleaned out and spread on the land as fertilizer. This was generally accomplished using a horse-drawn manure spreader. The manure spreader was a metal box on four wheels having beaters on the rear to spread the manure on the fields and a chain-driven conveyor at the bottom of the box to move the load to the rear where the beaters would spread the load. This was an interesting experience since not all the manure was spread to the rear of the manure spreader. A fair amount of the load also was thrown forward by the beaters, so after a day of this, the manure spreader driver (often me) would be pretty well coated with the remnants of the load.
Now, I want to go back to my first experience in driving the truck. Our farm had six irrigation cross ditches running south from the main ditch which ran beside the road on the north side of the farm. We ordinarily used canvas dams to force the water from the cross ditches out onto the field that was to be irrigated. In the spring of the year, however, we usually made manure dams in the cross ditches. As the first section of the field was irrigated, we would break the manure dam and allow the water to flow to the next manure dam which would then force the water onto the next section of the field. In the process, the manure from the first dam would mix with the irrigation water where it washed out onto the field as fertilizer.
The pickup truck would hold enough manure to make two manure dams. One day when I was eleven years old, Dad and I loaded up the truck with manure, and Dad drove the truck out to the field where we made the first manure dam by unloading the first half of the load. Dad then drove the truck to the location where the balance of the load was to be used to make the second manure dam. At that point, he asked me to finish unloading the truck and then come on in to the yard. He had something to accomplish that took him away from the farm. I was absolutely positive that he intended for me to walk back to the yard... I am also certain he had no idea that I would attempt to drive the truck back. As I off-loaded the balance of the load, I became fixated on the possibility of driving the truck. There were a couple of problems, however. Vehicles in those days had a six volt battery located under the floor board where it was not protected from mud, water, etc. Consequently, the battery terminals were often corroded and the battery became discharged. We usually had to crank the engine with a hand crank to start it. I'll describe how this was done for the benefit of those who have not had this experience. At the front of the engine, behind the radiator grille, there was a slot at the front end of the crankshaft into which the straight end of the crank could be inserted. All motor vehicles, at that time, had a hole through the lower part of the radiator grille and also the front bumper, through which the crank was inserted. The crank was a steel rod about 3/4" in diameter with two right-angle bends which formed a crank on one end, the other end having a pin placed crosswise in the rod to engage the slot in the crankshaft. The problem of cranking the engine was not insurmountable to me, however, since I was often the one who cranked the engine when Dad was the driver. But now I would have to figure out how to depress the gas pedal while I was cranking the engine. (I was not aware that there was a hand-operated throttle control on the dashboard. I don't think Dad was aware of this either.) The second problem was the fact that I did not know the gear-shift sequence of the manual transmission.
I found a file under the seat of the truck and put this on top of the gas pedal. Unfortunately, this did not provide enough weight to depress the pedal. I then found a large rock and put it on top of the file. This was enough weight. I turned on the ignition key, went to the front of the truck, inserted the crank and began cranking. The engine started up just as it had done on many previous occasions when Dad was in the cab of the truck. I removed the crank, took the rock and the file from the gas pedal, got into the truck, depressed the clutch, put the gear shift stick into the forward position at the left, pressed on the gas pedal and released the clutch. The engine died. I had not pressed the gas pedal down far enough. This was a disappointment, but I persevered, repeating the entire sequence once more. This time I really pressed on the gas, and the truck took off with a start. I drove all the way back to the yard (about a quarter of a mile away) in what turned out to be "Compound Gear," and parked the truck beside the house. A little later Mother asked me where Dad was. "I thought he was planning to leave," she said. I responded that he had left, about a half hour ago. Her response was, "how did the truck get here if he was gone?" I responded, rather nonchalantly that I had put it there. She managed to retain her composure through all this.

Other Truck & Tractor Driving Recollections

Driving was not a regular experience after that, but I did begin to drive long before it was possible to get a driver's license. Dad bought a J. I. Case Model LA tractor for $1,500 just before I finished the eighth grade. Long before the tractor arrived, I spent hours going over the sales literature in order to learn the locations of all of the controls. I was certain that I would be able to operate the tractor when it finally arrived. The day after school let out, I drove the tractor out to the Levan Ridge to Willy Broadhead's dry-land farm south of Nephi where I spent six days a week plowing and weeding for Roy Bowles who had contracted to do this work for Mr. Broadhead as well as for several other dry-land wheat farmers. It was good to work with Roy. He taught me a lot about tractors and equipment and how to keep them maintained properly.

The tractor had two fuel tanks, a small one for gasoline and a large one for distillate. Distillate was a lower cost, lower octane fuel you used after the operating temperature of the engine had become hot enough (about 180 degrees F.) to allow the distillate to burn properly. About once a week it was also necessary for me to change the engine oil of the tractor.

At the time of the oil change I also cleaned and replaced the oil in the oil bath air cleaner, the air cleaner was a heavy, cast iron oil-filled reservoir through which all of the engine combustion air passed before going into the engine. The air was usually quite dusty when the soil was being worked. When servicing the air cleaner it was important to remove all the dirt which had been removed from the air and which had accumulated at the bottom of the reservoir of the oil cleaner.

One morning as I was refueling the tractor, I over-filled the rear tank and a small amount of the gasoline spilled onto my lunch box which was underneath the tractor at the time. I didn't think much about it at the time, but when I ate my lunch at noon the sandwiches tasted like gasoline and I burped gasoline tasting burps all afternoon long. Needless to say, I never left my lunch box under the tractor in the future.

On most days, I would drive the International truck, loaded with a fifty-five gallon drum of distillate and a fifty-five gallon drum of gasoline from the farm to the location of my work on the Levan Ridge. This was during WW II. Often I would pass our highway patrolman on the highway. We would wave at each other, both of us realizing that I was too young to drive, but during the war years this sort of thing was a necessity since the older young men were all in the war.

Driving a tractor for 10-12 hours a day is really boring. You keep the right front wheels in the furrow all day while plowing. Only when you make a turn to the left at the end of the field do you do anything different. It is really mindless work.

I worked nearly all that summer on the Levan ridge for Mr. Bowles. I did custom plowing with Mr. Bowles' three moldboard plow in the Spring and early Summer and did "rod weeding" with his rod weeder later on in the Summer. On the Levan Ridge, the crop was wheat. It was raised by "dry-land" farming. In this system, a wheat crop was raised one year and the land lay "fallow" without a crop the following year in order to accumulate enough moisture to allow a crop to be grown the year after. In the "fallow" year it was important to keep the weeds from growing and depleting the moisture, but in weeding the soil with a weeder, the weeding had to be done without exposing the moisture in the soil where it would be lost through evaporation (Remember, this was in the days before herbicides were available.) A "rod" weeder was used to accomplish this. The weeder was about twelve feet wide and had a square rode which was driven by the wheels of the weeder as it was pulled over the field. The weeder was set so the rod rotated, in the opposite direction from the wheels, about 2"-3" below the surface of the plowed soil. The rotating motion of the rod pulled the weeds up by the roots and left them to dry out on the surface of the soil.

 The rod weeder had a frustrating peculiarity. Since the rod which operated under the surface of the soil operated in a different plane than that of the shaft which transmitted the power to the rod, a universal joint was located at the junction point between the weeder rod and the power transmission shaft. Of course, the universal joint also operated below the surface of the soil, and the abrasive action of the soil caused the universal joint to wear out every few days. It was always a problem to replace the universal joint out in the middle of an 80 acre field. In recent years it has occurred to me that the universal joints would have lasted much longer if a short length of bicycle inner tube had been attached over the universal joint so as to keep the dirt away from it.

Farmers frequently burned the wheat stubble from their fields at the end of the season in the attempt to kill the rye seeds. If a wheat crop has much rye in it, it has much less value. When plowing a field that has been burned, the dust that is stirred up is very black and you get dirtier than usual. On one occasion, I did not have the truck to drive home at the end of the day. When it was time to go home, I walked up to the Highway to hitchhike home. Car after car passed me until finally a local farmer picked me up. When I got home, I was able to see why no one stopped. I had been plowing a burned-over stubble field all day, and I was entirely black, my face, my arms and my clothing. People probably thought I was an escapee from a South Georgia chain gang.

Frequently, when I was nearing the end of plowing a large field, I would work late into the night, using the tractor headlight to follow the furrow with my right tires and using the rear light to watch the plow. There was no light on the left side of the tractor. One night while "following the furrow" in a state of semi-consciousness, the tractor lurched to the left and almost threw me off the seat. I thought the tractor was going to turn over. The left wheels of the tractor had run into a goose hunter's hole which I could not see because of the absence of a light on the left side of the tractor.

. In exchange for my work that summer, we received 40 acres of land that was adjacent to the 160 acres of land we already owned in the area south-west of Nephi known as "the sinks" in the southwestern part of the Nephi valley. We had earlier acquired by purchase, the westernmost 80 acres from Stan Park, and the easternmost 80 acres from Stan's brother, Edgar Park. The 40 acres we got from Roy was south of our existing property and just north of the old "sheep lane."

The sinks property was located about two miles to the southwest of our 80 acre irrigated farm. We used the sinks property to pasture our range cattle in the spring before we took them to the summer range and, again, in the fall after they returned from the summer range and before we moved them to the farm for winter feeding and fattening. We also turned loose our workhorses to graze in the sinks property during the early spring months and the late fall months when they were not all required at the farm.

It seems strange, now, that we would get that particular tractor since it was designed for belt work and for pulling plows, weeders, etc., mostly dry-farm work. Most of the work on our own farm consisted of two-way plowing and the mowing and raking of alfalfa. These jobs could not be done by the Case tractor because of its size and its inability to turn sharply. When we purchased the Case tractor, however, one had to have his name placed on a long waiting list to even get a tractor because of the priority of the production of war materials. Two or three years later, we bought a used John Deere Model A tractor, which was particularly useful for the type of work we had on our own farm. Since I had always been interested in trucks, tractors and other mechanical things, it was a good experience for me to have these early experiences with the tractor.

The John Deere tractor dad purchased later had just two cylinders instead of the usual four cylinders. Because of this John Deere tractors were known as "Popping Johnnies." I did not think I would ever get accustomed to the exhaust noise of this tractor, but I did. It was very easy to drive. Being a tricycle type, it could turn very sharply, something the Case tractor could not do. It had a hydraulic system for raising and lowering the attached equipment. In the fall, we would attach a two moldboard, two-way plow to the tractor. This equipment allowed you to plow in both directions in the field, turning the soil in the same direction while driving in both directions. I got to be very good with this system. As I came to the end of the field, I would operate the hydraulic lever, spin the steering wheel, and jam down the appropriate wheel brake, all in the appropriate order and without slowing down the tractor. It took a great deal of coordination to do this. As I was preparing to go away to college, later on, Dad asked me to show him how to change the oil on the John Deere. He had never done this even though we had then owned the tractor for some years. I'm not certain that he ever changed the oil after I was gone, but at least I showed him how to do it.

We purchased an old 1935 model, 1.5 ton Chevrolet truck from Earnest Wilson that was useful to us when we began to chop our hay in the field and chop the field corn in the field for corn silage. I was usually the driver of the truck when we did this. The chopped hay was easier to handle and less labor intensive than the old pitchfork method, but it was unusually dusty and dirty. I had to purchase a respirator to avoid getting my sinuses all clogged up with hay dust.

Getting my Driver's License

Despite the fact that I had been driving from a very young age, I don't think Dad was excited about my getting a driver's license. The license examiner came to Nephi only one day each month. In those days, you did not have the opportunity to take Driver's Ed in high school. I obtained a copy of the Driver's Handbook at the County Courthouse ahead of time. I passed the written portion of the test on the day the examiner was in Nephi as soon as I turned sixteen. This entitled you to receive a Learner's Permit so you could practice driving for the next month. (I thought this was strange since I had already been driving for several years.) The following month when the examiner was in Nephi again, Dad and the International pickup truck were nowhere to be found. This seemed to preclude the opportunity for me to take the driving test. During the day, Doug Cox and I were in the grocery store next to the Commercial Bank of Utah on Main Street. While we were in the store, Ken Nyman, Cashier at the bank, came in. Ken asked Doug why I appeared to be so despondent. When Doug told him of the circumstances, Ken tossed the keys to his brand new Plymouth automobile to me. He said, "Use my car to take the driving test, but first get comfortable with the car by delivering these groceries to my wife." I never forgot this great act of faith on Ken's part, and I was very careful with his car as I took, and passed, the test.

The Command Car, the Reo & the Kaiser

At the end of the war, LeRoy returned home from Japan. It is important to note that while he enlisted in the Navy, he was essentially trained as a Marine and was on the way to participate in the invasion of Japan. If the use of the atomic bomb had not caused the war to end as it did, it is very likely that he would not have survived the war.

The returning servicemen had the opportunity to purchase certain items of military equipment that could be used in peacetime. We purchased a Dodge Command Car and a one ton trailer through this program. The command car was built by Dodge Motor Division of Chrysler Corporation. It was an open top, four-wheel-drive vehicle with two full seats. It was much heavier than a Jeep, but, like a Jeep, it could go almost anywhere. It was built on the same chassis as the Dodge Weapons Carrier that we used later on when I was in Korea in the war. I often used this vehicle to drive my friends out on the State Road, west of Nephi to go ice skating in the winter. Since it was an open vehicle, we were half frozen when we arrived at the frozen stream where we went ice skating. Consequently, I found it easier to put on my ice skates before departing rather than after we arrived. That's more than a little frightening as I look back on that experience. It was not really safe driving the vehicle while wearing ice skates, but fortunately, nothing happened. Now that the war had ended, the highway patrol officers were less lenient with underage drivers. They were aware that I was driving the Command Car, and they knew that I was still an underage driver. Since Patrolman Sherwood's son was one of my friends who frequently rode with me, it was understandable that he became aware of this. One afternoon, LeRoy was driving the Command Car and was visiting a friend of his who lived along the highway in the north part of town. When LeRoy returned to the vehicle, Officer Sherwood was parked behind the Command Car. He asked LeRoy, "How old are you young man." LeRoy said, "Well, I'm old enough to vote." LeRoy was then asked to produce his driver's license. Unfortunately, his license was no longer valid. Servicemen were allowed a certain period of time after their discharge to obtain a new driver's license. LeRoy had neglected to get his renewed. He was somewhat miffed that he got a ticket when he knew that they were really looking for his little brother.

The Command Car was a vehicle that could go almost anywhere. It had four-wheel drive and high traction tires. On one occasion, we relied too heavily on its ability. One spring day, LeRoy and some of his friends took the command car to the sinks to round up the horses so we could use them for the spring work. As they pursued the herd of horses in the command car, they got into a particularly muddy area and the vehicle became stuck in the mud clear up to the axles and the running boards. LeRoy then returned to the farm where he got the Case tractor, and drove it to the sinks to retrieve the command car. He got the tractor to within about 100 feet of the command car when it, too, settled into the mud and could not be moved. Both vehicles remained there for about the next six weeks until the mud dried out enough to allow them to be dug out and moved.

Early during the war years, dad purchased a 1930 Reo four-door sedan from Jim Ellison. Because of fuel rationing and other wartime shortages, we later parked this vehicle under the trees in the back yard of our home in Nephi where it remained for the balance of the war. As the war ended, it seemed to me to be a real waste to have the Reo just sitting out there. I refilled the radiator, added air to the tires, got the battery recharged and had Mother push me with the Command Car to get it started. I used this as my personal vehicle for quite a while until I was stopped by Jack Brough, a city policeman, for driving an unlicensed vehicle. Jack was kind enough not to give me a ticket for this. It was a great old car. It had a six-cylinder, L-head engine, an updraft carburetor and no intake air filter. The air intake really whistled when you drove the vehicle since it also had no air cleaner. I have always been sad that I did not make some attempt to keep this car. It would be very valuable now. I don't know what Dad did with it while I was away at college and in the Army. In about 1947 or 1948, Dad acquired a 1946 Kaiser automobile from his brother, George. Henry Kaiser started an automobile company following the war. Kaiser had built Liberty Ships and Victory Ships for the government during the war to transport war materiel to the various battle areas. The automobile company built Kaiser and Frazier automobiles. Both vehicles had the same body and the same chassis, but the Frazier was a more deluxe vehicle. Our Kaiser was the first real automobile we ever owned. Prior to that time, we had to rely on the International Pickup truck and on the Command Car.

The Dairy Operation

We always had milk cows on the farm. This was the source of the milk we used at home, and the cream was a source of income. At first, we used the DeLaval hand-operated cream separator to separate the cream and the skim milk. The cream was fed into a 5 or 10 gallon can, and was sold to the local creamery where we would be compensated, the amount of compensation determined by the butterfat content. The cream was, of course, sour when it was delivered to the creamery where sour cream butter was made from it. The skim milk was simply a by-product that we fed to the pigs or to our young calves.

Cream Separator

I think it was in the mid 1940's when Arden Dairy in Salt Lake began assisting the Nephi farmers to set up Grade A milk operations and began purchasing whole milk from them. Dad was instrumental in getting this started. I rode with Dad as he delivered the first load of milk to the Arden Dairy plant Salt Lake in our pickup truck. I remember that the truck developed a "knock" in the engine on the way to Salt Lake. This required that we leave the truck in Salt Lake for repairs, and we drove an Arden Dairy truck back to Nephi. My suspicion is that the problem with our pickup truck was that the oil level was too low, causing the main bearings to be damaged. I was too young to understand such things at that time, but I don't think Dad paid much attention to the maintenance of our pickup truck.

As more farmers signed up with Arden Dairy, Dad arranged for a regular hauler to make the trip to Salt Lake each day. Fred Wilkey was the one who made the trip for several years. He had a 1.5 ton flatbed truck with low, hinged sides that dropped down so as to allow the ten-gallon milk cans to be loaded from each side.

Allen Pace's farm was located a couple of miles south and west of our farm. He would haul his milk to our place each morning as he drove his children to school. We children would frequently ride in the back of Allen's old Ford pickup truck to get to school. In the late fall and in the early spring, it was really chilly riding in the back of the truck during the approximately two-mile trip to school.

The Grade A designation for our milk operation required that we maintained a clean milking parlor in which the cows were milked and also a method of keeping the milk cool until it was picked up. The pump house on the farm also contained two concrete vats into which we pumped cold well water. This kept the milk sufficiently cool until it was picked up.

It should be pretty obvious to the reader that we milked the cows by hand. This was a job I thoroughly detested. Shortly following the end of World War II, some salesmen came by with a milking machine that was powered by a Briggs & Stratton gas engine. A gas engine was important since we still did not have electrical service on the farm. We put a lot of pressure on Dad to purchase the thing, which he did. This was a real mistake. The milking machine was not designed well, but most importantly, the gasoline engine was so noisy that the cows' milk production almost ceased. We had to give up using the machine.

One thing that was a highlight for us was the annual ice cream party sponsored in Nephi by Arden Dairy for the milk producers. They brought gallons and gallons of ice cream, and our large family of nine children and parents probably consumed more than our share!

Finding Dad Unconscious beside the Road

In the spring of each year, we would take our herd of beef cattle to grazing land in the "sinks" area of the Nephi valley. We would keep the animals there until they could be taken to the range property beneath the Red Cliffs in which we owned a share with other ranchers who also ran Aberdeen Angus cattle. This property was located to the southeast of Nephi. The "Old Pinery," situated directly beneath the Red Cliffs, was located on this property.

I had a frightening experience one Sunday morning when Dad and I were taking the cattle from the farm to the sinks property. Dad and I got the cattle out into the field lane, and Dad started out behind them on his horse. I was to get my horse bridled up and catch up with Dad. When I got out into the lane with my horse, I noticed that the cattle were just standing around in the lane near the west end of the farm. They were not being driven, and Dad was nowhere to be seen. Finally, I saw Dad's horse standing among the cattle down in the lane about where the west boundary of our property met the east boundary of Neil Brough's farm. As I approached, I discovered Dad lying unconscious at the side of the lane. I was only 13 or 14 years old, and I was really frightened. When I couldn't rouse Dad, I quickly rode my horse to the nearest farm, which belonged to Warrilow Brough. Fortunately, Mr. Brough and his hired man were there on a Sunday morning. We got Dad into Mr. Brough's car and back to our house on the farm. Dad didn't regain consciousness until after we got him home. It turned out that Dad's horse had thrown him, and as Dad fell, the horse had also kicked him in the face, caving in his cheekbone on one side of his face. This was very painful for Dad, and it took quite a while for him to recover from it. You could see the evidence of this injury for the rest of Dad's life.

Following that frightening experience, I drove the cattle herd to the sinks by myself.

The Pea Vinery

In the early 1940's the Rocky Mountain Packing Corporation encouraged Nephi farmers to begin growing a pea crop for canning purposes. They located pea vineries in two locations west of Nephi. Dad leased an area in the western part of our farmyard area to them for this purpose. Initially, they moved two pea viners onto the property each spring so they would be ready for the pea harvest, which began late in June. I was always excited to be present when the viners were being set up. At an early age, the machinery was a great fascination for me. I now realize that the men who came to install the equipment were frustrated by the constant stream of questions I directed to them.

After two or three years of temporary operation, three pea viners were permanently installed and a shed was built over them. After the vinery became a permanent installation, it also became almost an integral part of our family. Dad leased to Rocky Mountain Packing our J. I. Case tractor to drive two of the three viners with its belt drive, the third viner being driven by a stationary engine. Dad was hired to be Foreman of the vinery, and LeRoy and I also worked at the vinery when we were not busy in cutting, loading, hauling and putting our own pea crop through the vinery. Of course, the other boys in the family had the same experiences, as they grew older. I remember the first year that I worked a few hours at the vinery. I was too young to work legally, so I worked on LeRoy's time card. I think we were paid about 35 cents per hour, but even that was most welcome in those days. . This also gave me a modest source of income at an early stage in my life.

In the beginning, three men were assigned to work on the pea vine stack. Their job was to spread the vines as they came out of the discharge elevators of the viners, making a respectable-looking stack as it grew to height of about 15-20 feet by the end of the harvest. The stack got pretty "ripe" by the time the season ended, the wet vines packing tightly and becoming silage while the odoriferous juices drained away into the irrigation ditch. Each of the pea producers received their pro-rata share of the silage, which they fed to their cattle during the ensuing winter months.

After John and Morris grew old enough to help, Dad took a contract to do the stack. We built canvas "slips" which were placed under the elevators of each of the three viners. We kept a horse on the stack for the entire season. When a pile of vines had accumulated on the slip, John and Morris would hook the horse to the slip, drag the slip out to the far edge of the stack, and unload the slip by leading the horse back across the top of the slip, and thereby, rolling the load off the slip. Between loads of our own peas, LeRoy and I would get up on the stack, even out the humps caused by all the loads described above, and build up the edges of the stack properly.

The pea crop was grown in fields of about 2-10 acres. The packing company employed a Field Man who determined each day the specific part of a farmer's field that was to be harvested and delivered to the vinery the following day. Late in the afternoon or early evening, the harvesting was begun by using a horse-drawn mowing machine to cut the pea vines. The mowing machine was the same one the farmers used to mow their hay except for some special lifters on the cutter bar and a windrow attachment attached behind the cutter bar. It was a two-person job to cut the peas. One person drove the team of horses; the other walked behind the windrow attachment to keep the pea vines from clogging the cutter bar.

After cutting, the peas were loaded onto the truck or the wagon, and were then hauled to the vinery where the peas were separated from the vines. We received a schedule each day advising us of the time each of our loads was due to arrive at the vinery, starting at about 6:00 AM each day. Everyone tried to follow the schedule as closely as possible, but equipment breakdowns usually caused the schedule to slip badly before the day ended. The owner of each load of pea vines would pitch the vines together with the pea pods into the viner. The viner mechanism would break open the pea pods. The peas would fall onto a sloped, moving apron that allowed the peas to roll into hoppers at the bottom of the apron and the miscellaneous debris would be carried to the top of the sloped apron and dumped at the rear of the viner. The vines would pass through the viner and be transported via a moving conveyor (called "the elevator") to the vine stack. When one fed the pea vines from the load into the vinery it was important to not feed them in too rapidly. If one did this, the threshing drum would become plugged, up requiring the drum to be emptied out before the work could continue. This slowed up the process considerably, and frequently caused pea growers to wait for an hour or more after their scheduled times. On some days which were heavily scheduled and on which many breakdowns had occurred, I remember putting the last fork full of pea vines into the viner after midnight, and then remembering that the cows had not, yet been milked. On many days, after midnight, I fell sound asleep with my head in the flank of the cow I was milking. I seem to recall that we always had a 6:00 AM load scheduled for the following morning at the vinery.

Dad was employed as the Foreman in charge of the operation of the vinery. He contracted the use of our J.I. Case tractor to drive two of the three viners. The third viner was powered by a stationery engine. LeRoy and I would also often be employed at the vinery along with other employees. In those days one had to be 16 years old in order to get a Social Security Card, a prerequisite to being employed. I was not yet 16, so I would put my time on LeRoy' s Social Security number.

None of us was ever paid for the work we did on the farm. We were paid when we worked in the pea vinery itself, but since we contracted the "stack," we were also not paid for that work. We did, however, have some opportunity to earn money from other farmers while helping them harvest their various crops after our own crops had been harvested.

The Orgil Property and the Water Pipe Line

For two summers, we worked during all of our spare time on a project, which provided us with nothing but the experience. This was the piping of water to a piece of property adjacent to the "sheep lane" on the bench land southeast of Nephi. The Orgil brothers owned the property as well as a much larger piece of property to the south and east of the property to which the water was to be piped. Dad had, supposedly, made a deal with the Orgils. They would give him this piece of property if we would pipe the water from a spring in the canyon to the mouth of the canyon where we, as well as the Orgils, could use the water for our cattle. We worked hard to lay the pipe in the very difficult, rocky terrain of the streambed, and we were successful in bringing the water down as had been anticipated. We even went so far as to build a feed yard on the property where we fed our range cattle for at least two or three winters. However, Dad never was able to get the deed to the property, so all our work was fruitless for us.

While dad "missed a "gear or two" on the above project as well as on several others, which will not be recalled here, he was a very forward-thinking individual. The following story will illustrate this.

The Turkey Feather Project

After the turkey processing plant had been established in Nephi, they hired a trucker to haul the soggy turkey feathers to the city dump where they attempted to burn them. The wet feathers did not burn well, and they became a really a smelly nuisance when they did burn. The following year, Dad contracted with the processing plant to dispose of the feathers. He bought a rubber-tired John Deere manure spreader having a long tongue so it could be pulled with a team of horses. We installed a ball and socket trailer hitch on the end of the tongue so the spreader could also be towed behind the nephi junior high school juab historicpickup truck. We would load the feathers into the spreader at the processing plant and haul them about one mile to our farm where we would spread the feathers onto a field that was to be plowed in the spring. In wet or snowy weather, a team of horses would be used to pull the spreader in the fields. This would avoid the risk of getting the truck stuck in the soft or slick ground. When the feathers were plowed under in the spring, they decomposed and provided the soil with the needed nutrients, the chemical compound being mostly nitrogen. Thus, Dad was paid to fertilize his own fields instead of hauling the feathers a much longer distance to a location where they would become a nuisance. Incidentally, when the crops began to grow and mature the following year, the portion of the field that had been fertilized with the feathers yielded a much heavier crop.

Schools

Kindergarten consisted of a half-day class held in the Nephi Public Library during the summer vacation. I attended the first day of kindergarten before deciding that I had very little interest in it. I remember that Anita Sperry, a classmate that lived a half block from our home, came by the house to walk to kindergarten together on the second day. I told her I didn't want to go anymore, and I did not.

Our Elementary School was the Nephi Central School, located at 100 North 100 East. 100 North was known as Track Street as this was the street in the center of which the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad (The Sanpete Train) entered Nephi to connect with the Union Pacific Railroad at the Union Pacific Depot. I think the main purpose of this railroad line was to transport gypsum from the Nephi Plaster Mill to the Union Pacific Line. The train travelled all the way from the D&RG line in Sanpete County to transport the gypsum about three miles from the Plaster Mill to the Union Pacific line. The train crew would often park the train on Track Street, just east of Main Street, while they ate lunch at the Nephi Café. An interesting story was told about an interchange between the train crew and Jude Pexton, the owner of Pexton Wholesale in Nephi. Jude also often ate lunch at the Nephi Café, and was well acquainted with the train crew. One day as Jude and the train crew were eating lunch, Jude is to have said, "If you guys ever get the train to Nephi on time, I'll buy your lunch." Sometime later, as Jude entered the café for lunch, the train crew was already seated at the lunch counter. Jude is to have said, "Well, I'm a man of my word, your lunch is on me!" The train crew responded, "Mr. Pexton, we appreciate your generosity, but THIS IS YESTERDAY'S TRAIN!"

So much for the Sanpete Train, let's get back to my schooling. My First Grade teacher was Miss Mable Sperry, a wonderful teacher who taught me how to read and to love reading. Miss Sperry divided the class into three reading groups, The Robins, The Bluebirds, and The Blackbirds, in descending order of reading ability. I was first assigned to The Blackbirds, but quickly advanced through The Bluebirds to The Robins. The Second Grade teacher was Catherine Bowles. My Third Grade teacher was Alice Sowby. My Fourth Grade teacher was Mrs. Alean Pace, the sister of Miss Sperry. She was also an excellent teacher. My Fifth Grade teacher was Russell Gardner. In the Sixth Grade it was Elmo Hansen who was also the Principal of the Nephi Central School.

By midway through the Third Grade in Miss Alice Sowby' s class, I had read all of the books in the small Central School library. The teachers at the school then made arrangements, in cooperation with my mother, for me to be able to check out books from the Nephi Public Library. Elementary school students were generally not allowed to do this. In national testing that was done in the Third Grade, I apparently tested on the Ninth Grade level. I did not think much about this, but I think the school thought that I had somehow cheated on the exam. They eventually concluded that I had not done so. I'll relate additional information on national testing later on as I recall my Junior High and High School experiences.

Since Miss Sowby felt that I was well advanced in my studies, she and the school agreed that I could spend a week with my Uncle Val and Aunt Helen Hoyt during the middle of my school year. Aunt Helen was my mother's half-sister. She and Uncle Val had no children of their own, so they always seemed to take a special interest in me. I understand that Aunt Helen selected my name of David. Throughout my life, I was always known to my friends as "Dave," but in Aunt Helen's presence I always had to be referred to as "David." Uncle Val and Aunt Helen were Dorm Parents at Allen Hall, the men's dormitory at BYU. I spent a wonderful week in Provo with the Hoyts. I'll devote an entire section to the Hoyts later on since they were a most important influence in my life.

The Nephi Junior High School and the Juab High School were both located in the same building on the northeast corner of Main Street and First North. About a week or two before I was to enter the Seventh Grade in Junior High, a fire broke out in the building housing. Since we were still living on the farm at this time, we did not hear about the fire until the following day. The Nephi Fire Department consisted of several volunteer firemen and an old Reo Speedwagon fire engine. The Nephi fire truck could not be started when the fire broke out. Therefore the Fire Departments of at least two cities north of Nephi arrived before the Nephi Fire Department got its equipment on the scene.

For the following year our classes were held at several locations in fairly close proximity to the largely burned-out High School Building. We met in the old, unoccupied building north of the Central School, in the North Ward LDS Church building, in the LDS Seminary building and in the old, city-owned building located on Center Street just east of the old LDS Tabernacle which was still in use at that time. The Tabernacle was also used as the auditorium for school functions.

I developed an interesting relationship with Mr. Harry Beagley, my eighth grade science teacher, who lived just one block up the street from our home. We occasionally walked to school together if we happened to meet on the sidewalk at the front of our home. Mr. Beagley had taught for several years, and had also been my Father's teacher in school. He and I would often tease each other during class. Mr. Beagley, who we referred to as "Uncle Harry," was bald headed. One day in class I asked, "Uncle Harry, how come you are so bald headed?" He sneeringly answered, "How come grass doesn't grow on a busy street?" I replied, "I suppose it's because it just can't grow up through the concrete." I subsequently learned from my younger siblings that he related that story several times in later years; he just did not state that he had been the subject of the comments.

As I look back on my Junior High and High School experiences, I now realize that I mostly "coasted" through this important part of my life. I now wish that I had been challenged more and had received more encouragement in scholarly pursuits. In the national tests administered in the Seventh Grade, I tested at the Eleventh Grade level. In the Eleventh Grade, I failed in English for the last half of the year. The school Chemistry Teacher filled in as the English teacher that year. He used especially poor grammar himself Also, I had a habit of speaking out in class more than I should have. I protested my failing grade since all my tests were in the high eighties and the ninety percentages. I discovered that the teacher had given me a zero on the days that I spoke out in class. Of course if you take the average of 96, 88, 92, 89 and four zeros, you do not get a passing grade. I suggested, then, that I should have received a passing grade for the days that I did not speak out in class. Unfortunately for me, the grades had already been turned in to the State, so my failing grade could not be corrected. In order to rectify the problem, the school caused two things to occur. First, I received a half-year's English credit for working as Business Manager on the Year Book the following year. (I had been Assistant Business Manager the year just ended,) Second, the English/Chemistry Teacher was responsible for arranging for candidates to attend Boy's State each year. I was selected to attend in the summer of 1948.

Boy's State was a good experience, but I developed blood poisoning in one of my feet and lower legs about half way through the period. I had to be rushed home to receive treatment. If it had not been for penicillin, a recent advance in medicine, I would probably have lost one of my legs, or perhaps died. The infection had progressed about halfway up my lower leg before it was stopped.

In High School, I took a typing class where I learned to type quite well. At that time, typing was generally considered a career for females, not males, but I wanted to learn anyhow. There were only a few boys in the class. I had no idea, at that time, how important typing would become as personal computers became ubiquitous. I hated Algebra in the Ninth Grade, but loved Geometry in the Tenth Grade. Mr. Glazier taught both classes.

At the end of my junior year, I was nominated as one of four candidates for Student Body President for the following year. I still have no idea who was responsible for the nomination. I was one of the two winners in the Primary Election, but lost in the Final Election. I was subsequently elected as Senior Class President. None of us realized, at that time, that the President of the Senior Class acquires a lifetime job. Our class has held a class reunion every five years since graduating, the most recent one, at this writing was held in the fall of 2010. I have been involved in almost all of them and in charge of most of them. We have a great class. We all know each other, and best of all, we all still like each other.

My FFA Projects

I was active in the Future Farmers of America (FFA) chapter in high school. In my junior year, I was Vice President of our chapter. James Anderson (We referred to him as "Big A.") was our advisor and teacher all the time I was in High School. We were all expected to have a project each year. Genlerally, the students raised a steer or a hog that they could exhibit and sell at one of the Junior Livestock Shows. In my first year, I decided to raise five beef calves for the market. I was very careful in recording the original value of the five beef calves as well as the value of every pound of hay and grain they consumed during the year. Big A constantly stressed the importance of maintaining complete records for our projects, but I think that I was about the only one who really did it. But I did it for a very personal reason. I did not pay Dad for the calves at the beginning of the year or for the feed they consumed during the year. Since I worked on the farm without pay, raising the calves and raising the feed, I did not feel the obligation of paying for the animals or for the feed during the year. I did, however, feel the obligation to repay Dad as soon as the animals were sold at the Junior Livestock Shows. This I did just as soon as I received the money. I always felt that Dad was disappointed that I did not turn over to him all the money that I received. As it turned out, it was good I had this income since it was what supported me during my first year at college.

Also, in my FFA Shop Class, I had two other significant projects. After the war ended, some military searchlight axles became available. I obtained five of these and using them as the foundations, I built two pneumatic tired hay wagons and one pneumatic livestock trailer. These pieces of equipment were valuable to us on the farm in that the hay wagons were more stable than the ones we previously used, and we did not own a livestock trailer. In the process, I learned to do Oxy/Acetylene welding and Electric Arc welding. These two skills became valuable to me later on in a company in which I was the General Manager.

Uncle Val and Aunt Helen

Mother's half sister, Helen, married Harrison Val Hoyt who had been born and reared in Star, Utah, a very small community located north of Mona, Utah. Uncle Val grew up in extremely poor economic circumstances, but had risen economically beyond what anyone could have expected. He graduated from BYU and obtained his MBA from Harvard Business School just a few years after that school was established at Harvard University. In the mid 1930's he took a position on the faculty of the newly emerging Business School at BYU. Shortly after they returned to Utah from Corvallis, Oregon where Uncle Val had been a professor, they visited us in Nephi. They had just purchased an elegant, new DeSoto automobile. They invited mother and two or three of us kids to take a trip with them around the Nebo Scenic Loop between Salt Creek Canyon and Payson. The thing I remember most about this trip was that I got car sick and threw up inside their new car before we could get stopped. Despite this embarrassing occurrence, the Hoyts still sort of took me under their wing. They had no children of their own, and I always felt that they looked upon me as their own. As I mentioned earlier, I stayed with them in their Allen Hall apartment on at least one occasion. It was Uncle Val who encouraged me and probably made it possible for me to be admitted to Harvard Business School. I'll probably have more to say about that as I cover later periods in my life. Uncle Val suffered with Alzheimer's disease later in his life. It was discouraging to see someone cursed with this malady whose mind had always been so alert and so bright.

Aunt Helen's mind remained sound until her death in her mid nineties. When sheand Uncle Val lived in Cambridge during his years at Harvard Business School, she would memorize and recite poetry as she ironed their clothing and did other household work. She remembered the birthday anniversaries of all the membersin our family as well as most other more important things. Several years before her passing Aunt Helen had fallen and broken her hip. They repaired it as well

as possible at that time, but she always had a slight limp following that accident.After Mother sold the farm and the other holdings in Nephi, she purchased a 

home in Provo since none of her family had remained in Nephi and she then had grandchildren attending BYU. Aunt Helen moved in with Mother later on, and  

they enjoyed some good years together. Later on, Aunt Helen had another fall 

and broke the same hip that had been broken earlier. This time, it was 

impossible to repair her hip, and she became bed ridden. We set up a hospital 

bed in one of our bedrooms in Holladay. Sharon took care of her in our home 

until she passed away. One of the real tender moments of my life occurred with Aunt Helen. When I arrived from work late one afternoon and asked Sharon 

how Aunt Helen's day had been she said, "Well, she has been in and out of 

consciousness for most of the day." I then went in and spoke briefly with her. 

She was conscious and alert at the time. She said, "Oh, David, I wish I could 

just go to sleep tonight and not wake up." My response was, "Aunt Helen, you 

can't just 'sit on your trunk' like that, when it's your time, you will be able to do just that." Sharon and I had to go out that evening. When we returned, Aunt 

Helen had peacefully passed away. Her last words have always remained in my memory.

Church, Social Life and Activities

We attended Church in the old Nephi South Ward meeting house on the northwest corner of Third South and First East. At first it consisted of an older building of brick construction. There were only a couple of classrooms, but provision was there to create classroom areas by drawing curtains across the chapel. Amy Warner was our Guide Boys Teacher in Primary. We met upstairs above the entry foyer in what was known as the Prayer Room. It was equipped with a prayer altar in the middle of the room. That was the only Church building that I have ever known to have such a room and be so equipped. In my early years there existed a separate Relief Society building located at the north of the ward meeting house.

Some years later the Relief Society Building was torn down and an addition was constructed on the north side of the meeting house. In the addition were a Cultural Hall and Stage, a Kitchen, a Relief Society Room, a Gospel Doctrine Classroom and a row of additional classrooms along the west hallway. The Scout Room was the northernmost classroom.

Ward stage plays were occasionally staged in the Cultural Hall (at that time it was referred to as The Amusement Hall, however.) I participated in a couple of them as I was in my teens.

The Juab Stake consisted of the Nephi South, Central and North Wards, each occupying its own building. The Levan Ward and the Mona Ward were also included in the Stake.

Stake baptisms were performed in the area behind the podium area of the old Stake Tabernacle. This structure was located on the southeast corner of the intersection of Main Street and Center Street, directly across the street from the U.S. Post Office to the north and from the Juab County Court House to the west. I understand that my Grace Grandparents' second home had been located approximately on the site where the Post Office stood.

Although my eighth birthday occurred in June, the earliest Stake Baptismal service was not held until September. There were 40 of us who were there to be baptized at the appointed time. Unfortunately, no one had arranged for someone to baptize us. My father was asked to return home and obtain proper clothing, and he then baptized all 40 of us

The Stake usually held a picnic celebration behind Mount Nebo at the campground referred to as "Camp Dad and Sons." We would all load up into the International Pickup truck, most of us riding in the back, for the trip up and back. Two or three of us would often ride at the back of the truck with our legs hanging over the rear of the vehicle. Adults would be arrested today for allowing their children to do that. Of course we travelled at much slower speeds in those days. (Speaking of that, I recall when I was about 14, I drove the truck from the farm to Nephi and brought Grandma Ostler to the farm for Sunday dinner. On the way, as we traveled down the country lane, she excitedly said, "David you are exceeding the speed limit." The speed limit during the war was 35 miles per hour, and I was, perhaps, driving about 40 miles per hour and there was not another vehicle anywhere on the road.)

A statewide Centennial Celebration was held in most communities throughout the state in 1947. An outdoor pageant was held in Nephi at the County Fairgrounds in the summer of that year. Several of my friends and I participated in the pageant.

Saturday Night Dances in Moroni

 Every Saturday night, throughout the year, dances were held in Moroni, Sanpete County about 20-25 miles east of Nephi. During the summer months the dances were held at an outdoor pavilion called Joy Land. In the winter months they were held in an inside hall called The Bungalow. The orchestra always consisted of The Revelers, a group of mostly professional guys from Moroni & Fountain Green. It seems we knew almost everyone who attended each week. During my Junior and Senior years I dated Carolyn Cook, a lovely girl whose father was the Bishop of the Fountain Green Ward. I also occasionally dated Alene Pratt, from Nephi.

On one occasion, a flash flood had wiped out a bridge in Salt Creek Canyon between Nephi and Fountain Green. This would have prevented us Nephi guys who were dating Sanpete County girls from attending the dance. It would have also prevented the Sanpete County Guys who were dating Nephi girls from picking up their dates. I made a couple of phone calls to the Sanpete County guys. I told them we would pick up their dates and drive to the washed out bridge. We would park our cars there, walk across the now dry stream bed, and go with them to Moroni if they would pick up our dates for us since we would not have our cars after we reached the stream bed. It worked out well for all of us.

One evening while driving between Fountain Green and Moroni, an old pickup truck sped past us as if we were standing still. I knew who it was, and in my youthful exuberance I was unwilling to tolerate that. I quickly caught up with them, but I might have known that the local Highway Patrolman, Reed Collard, was also catching up with them to ticket them for speeding. To make a long story short, we both got speeding tickets. I told officer Collard that it was stupid of me to have done what I did, and since I was leaving for college within a week, I wanted to go to the Justice Court right away and take care of my ticket. He directed me how to get to the home of the Justice of the Peace, and I drove directly there. As I parked in front of the home of the Justice of the Peace, I noticed that officer Collard had pulled up right behind me. He came with me into the home of the Justice of the Peace, introduced me and pleaded for leniency on my behalf. I really appreciated what he did, and I got off with a minimal fine.

One Saturday evening, Alene Pratt and I had attended the outdoor dance in Moroni. Afterward we drove to Mt. Pleasant for some food. While in Mt. Pleasant, we met my brother, LeRoy and some of his friends. On the way back to Moroni, LeRoy and his friends were following directly behind us. We came upon a farm truck that was weaving back and forth across both lanes of the highway. It was very dangerous, and I did not wish to attempt to pass the truck. A few minutes later, we noticed a car approaching at high speed from the opposite direction. As the car approached the truck, the truck swerved over into the opposite lane again, hitting the car and causing it to roll several times until it came to rest on its side in the middle of the highway. We quickly stopped and ran back to the wrecked car. When we got there, LeRoy was already on top of the wreck, attempting to open the door. His first thought was that it was me in that car since I was travelling right ahead of him. A young man from Nephi, "Flip" Pexton was the driver of the other car, and he was killed in the accident.

Social Impact of Living on the Farm

During the summer months for a period of ten years, we lived on the farm. We had no neighbors within a mile or two, and the only interaction we had with others was as we attended Church on Sundays. Consequently, I became quite introverted in my younger years. I realize that my current friends and acquaintances may find this difficult to believe, but it was certainly true at the time. I was very self-conscious on the few occasions that I walked down Main Street in the summer time.

The Nationmembered the birthday anniversaries of all the members in our family as well as most other more important things. Several years before her passing Aunt Helen had fallen and broken her hip. They repaired it as well as possible at that time, but she always had a slight limp The Pea Vinery

In the early 1940's the Rocky Mountain Packing Corporation encouraged Nephi farmers to begin growing a pea crop for canning purposes. They located pea vineries in two locations west of Nephi. Dad leased an area in the western part of our farmyard area to them for this purpose. Initially, they moved two pea viners onto the property each spring so they would be ready for the pea harvest, which began late in June. I was always excited to be present when the viners were being set up. At an early age, the machinery was a great fascination for me. I now realize that the men who came to install the equipment were frustrated by the constant stream of questions I directed to them.

After two or three years of temporary operation, three pea viners were permanently installed and a shed was built over them. After the vinery became a permanent installation, it also became almost an integral part of our family. Dad leased to Rocky Mountain Packing our J. I. Case tractor to drive two of the three viners with its belt drive, the third viner being driven by a stationary engine. Dad was hired to be al Guard

A National Guard battery, Battery B of the 145th Field Artillery Battalion, had been formed in Nephi in my Junior year of high school. The battalion consisted of four Firing Batteries, a Service Battery and a Headquarters Battery. Each firing battery such as Battery B had four 155 Millimeter Long Tom Guns. They fired a 100 pound round and had a range of about 22,000 yards (about 12.5 miles). Several of my friends had joined the unit, and it seemed like a good idea for me to do so also. When I joined, I was assigned to the Survey Section in the unit. The job of the Survey Section is to provide an accurate location of the guns in the battery and to provide an orienting line so the gun crew can orient the guns consistent with the maps of the area in which they are located. It was certainly more interesting and more cerebral than working on a gun crew. We got paid for attending a drill once each week as well as for a two week summer camp conducted at Camp Williams located at the foot of the Oquirrh Mountains northwest of Lehi.

I had no idea, at the time, what a life-changing event it would become when I joined the guard. When I started college at Utah State in the fall of 1949, I transferred my guard membership to Headquarters Battery of the 204th Field Artillery Battalion in Logan. The Survey Section in Headquarters Battery was responsible for all the battalion surveying except for when a firing battery was operating on its own in combat. Hence, the Headquarters Battery section was a more sophisticated operation with more possibility for advancement.



In June of 1950 the North Korean army invaded South Korea. In early July we were notified that our unit was to be activated into the Regular Army. In August this took place in Logan. We traveled by train to Ft. Lewis, Washington, and in January 1951 we departed the Port of Seattle for Pusan, Korea.