IF YOUR NAME IS TOLLEY, WE KNOW WHO YOUR DADDY IS...OR WAS.

It is hard to believe, but if you know anybody with the last name of Tolley from the western United States or Canada, we would guess you came to us via Wm. Fisher Tolley and one of two wives during  Polygamy times. He was actually married to four, but the Tolley family doesn't like to talk of the latter two, only the first two who had kids. Years ago, after interviewing the last living grandchild of Wm. Fisher Tolley, I put together my own version of the Life and Times of this Brigham Young's Mormon servant. As I recently discovered a typed version from a hand written history of Mr. Tolley, I was moved to place it here. It was written by a daughter of William-Lizzie Tolley Jones. Take it for what it is worth to you. The collage of photos is from the album belonging to Elizabeth Tolley Jones, and I recognize only the two smaller photo's in the middle. The one on the left is of Leonard and Jane Tolley Jones and the other is of Wm. and Lizzie Tolley Jones. Two Jones brothers married two Tolley sisters. Mr. Tolley also assisted Orrin Porter Rockwell between farming with in Idaho and Utah and having a wagon load of kids. One wife lived in an Adobe north of Nephi that still stands and the other in Idaho.

WHERE THE HELL IS VIET NAM? YES SIR, NAM IS STILL A SWEAR WORD

To many youngins, 1961 through 1975 was long before their birth or when history books skip over important events of the world. Things occurred back in the 1960's we didn't think were important, but they were then, and remain so, especially to the millions that were affected by the War in Viet Nam, a country most of us never heard of. If you ask the rice paddy folks that lived in Viet Nam, they called it the America War, as years before the French did the same as we did-invade a country we had no knowledge of. When the US sent "advisors" to DaDang in 1961, they could have sent French Advisors or talked to the French Catholics who were already there, and perhaps, just perhaps, we could have saved a life or two, including the Nephi Medic who rushed up on the front line to aid a soldier who maintained his gut ached. That Medic was killed by enemy fire, later finding the fake injury was by a soldier who was sick of fighting. It only got worst when the dead Medic was replaced by another Nephi Medic! Well, regardless of what you may have read or heard, here are "My" facts, as seen and written by one who spent time in Nam-not as a soldier, but on a "Humanitarian" trip for several weeks. The statistics are my own, and unclassified with the State Department. Use it for teaching to prevent more catastrophic events of the future, as Hal Jones and I did to a variety of students. We show the entertainment of yesteryear while some of our family members were called to do their American duty.

"Remember The Alamo"; "The War To End Wars"; "A Day That Will Live in Infamy"! How About "Nov. 22, 1963"?

For youngsters, many will remember 9-11 or their parents will tell them, but I know of nobody still around who remember World War I or where Korea, Viet Nam or where the Battle of the Bulge occurred and it wasn't Thanksgiving either. For this young oldster, I revisited the Ag. room in the bottom floor of the old Boys gym of Juab High School in Nephi, Utah. I was alone and pulled up the chair to sit and recall the dark feelings I had that solemn day in 63. Back then, I first thought it was a stupid joke somebody had pulled in Principle Newell's office. They were just installing an intercom system that could be heard throughout the school. Teacher Jay Dalley stood silent as did all of us kids learning about farm life. I still don't recall the confusion of the radio announcers although it was clear they were trying to gain their own composure to announce the President of the United States was just assassinated in Dallas. That couldn't happen, not to us in our day! We read about such things as President Lincoln being shot in Ford Theater years before, but those sort of things don't happen in real life, only history books. But it was real and we were excused to go home. I remember greeting my family, with all of our eyes filled with tears. We believed the Communists' had taken over our country, as we were drilled constantly on how bad Communism was and practiced running to the nearest radioactive protection area. It was doomsday in America. As I listened to more of the media announcers, the more confused I became. At first, it was a lone gunman; then a Communist's plan to take over our country. The Untied States was in a whirlwind as to who to believe. A long time later, the Warren Commission spent millions of dollars to figure out what was simple. They reported it was a lone madman named Lee Harvey Oswald who shot the President and the Governor of Texas from the Dallas School Book Depository. We all watched the funeral from the auditorium and a sober time for all of us. I still wasn't sure who did what, so years later I traveled to Dallas and did my own personal investigation and with the help of police officers. It took me a week, but concluded the Warren Commissions was accurate. Oswald had been in the US Marines, where he had became an expert with a rifle; hated America and wanted to live in Cuba, then Russia, so it all became more fodder for the media. It was soon thereafter I lost respect for reporters who interpreted the news, rather than just report it. In order that future students of history can appreciate what we all went through back then, I will put a few photos of the special edition of the assassination here, then donate the magazine to the Nephi City Library, so all folks can realize that tragedies will still come to all of us, in one shape or another. May we all learn from history as more madmen will cometh our way.

In the early 1980's, Utah was hit with a lot of snow, especially at Mona Reservoir.

According to the Deseret News of April 13, 1982, the Juab County Attorney gave a warning to Mona residents they better take warning of damaged fences and roads if they don't prepare to lower the reservoir level. Back then, the Reservoir may have been owed by Mona farmers, but indications are now a days that most of it is owned by the LDS Church who run Hay and Beef for distribution from their Goshen farms. Regardless of the warning, more snow came in 83-84, and so did the floods, so we didn't listen as well as they did during Noah days. We bring this up today, as the front page of Section B shows a photo of a barn west of Mona, that was stayed in by my father-Alma C. Jones who not only helped build the road between Mona and Goshen, but also help lay the concrete portion of Old Highway 91 between Santaquin and Nephi, Utah. About the only concrete portion that can be seen is north of the propane tanks between Nortonville and Nephi. Alma worked for his Uncle-Charles Tolley and used mules to haul the cement, thus becoming known as a Mule Skidder. Alma wrote his work there was done in 1923, which would put him at the age of 20. He loved working with concrete and mortar after watching Nephi/Juab High finished in 1922, with the builder saying it would last a hundred years, an act that was overlooked when school officials condemned it but County Officials still use it. No wonder Alma loved cement until he was 81. And that is the dang truth-barn nun!

JUAB COUNTY FAIR OF 1926-WHO DID WHAT BACK THEN

Thanks to Bryce Gardner, son of former Commissioner Elgin Gardner, who provided this program of 1926, for all of the world to view, even those who still kan't pronounce Juab or Nephi Korrectly. They all can't be from Californity can they? Part One showed the 75th Jubilee of the founding of Nephi, formerly known was Salt Creek. Today, this second section will show the good folks that put together the Juab County Fair of 1926, which was way back before we had to dig a few miles down to China for our water. Many of the names are familiar with this geezer writer.

THIS PROGRAM WAS PRINTED IN 1926 AND TELLS THE TALES OF NEPHI FOUNDERS.

Have you ever heard of Nephi, Utah and wonder where in Heavens name did that name come from? Well, there has been a truck load of people that call them selves "locals" who have no idea, so today, we will give a shorten version of its beginning. When the Utah Territory was invaded by the Mormons in 1847, it was technically owned by Mexico, but they gave it up when the US of A attempted a war with the Mexicans, who actually may have stole it from the Indians or "Ancient Ones", who may have taken it from somebody else. When the U.S. Calvary headed to California, they took the land without a shot fired. Now, the United States still takes land away, but they call it "Manifest Destiny". Anywho, area we called it Salt Creek, as we had a lot of salt mines in the canyon. Brigham Young thought it was more Mormon like to call it Nephi, a name of a leader of the white ancient ones, even before the Indians.

In 1926, while some of the Mormon settlers were still standing upright, so they held a Jubilee celebration, which we will call Part One. After a bathroom break, we will then present Part Two, which will show the people that put together the Juab County Fair of 1926, and if you have been around more than 50 years, you will recognize some of the Nephites of old.

HOW MANY MORE LIVES DO PEOPLE GET OVER CATS

There have been times I forget how many brushes with death I've had, with at least three of them where I was declared dead, but came back to life. I keep thinking I have completed everything I have wanted to do on my bucket list, so isn't it my time yet? On one occasion, I came out of my physical body and greeted my heavenly grandfather. During our conversation, I was told that is was not yet my time. Dang! I had forgot another time when a letter dropped out of one of the many history boxes I have been going through. While living in the Fort Union part of Salt Lake County, I asked my two boys-Justin and Troy if they wanted to go tubing down in my hometown of Nephi, Utah. They were excited, so we filled up the innertubes and headed south. The date was on my sisters birthday in 1991. Justin was 12 and Troy was 11. I had already taught them how to get out of a burning house; CPR and how to drive. All those things came in handy on a variety of occasions. I knew a place at the head of Nephi Canyon where kids had been tubing, so that was our destination. I went first and that part was fun. Then the trouble came when I took a tumble at the end, hitting my head on a protruding rock. Playing high school football years before was a different era. One would often get knocked out and the Coach would break a smelling salt at your nose and we would go back in fighting, thinking nothing of the bleeding or residual headaches. Not this time, as I was knocked cold and the boys came down as I wasn't moving. I didn't recall much of what went on after that, but both boys said that my heart stopped and my color had changed to gray. It was then that eleven year old Troy took action, pushing on my chest. I came back to life and was breathing on my own. I told the boys I needed to get to a hospital and they helped get me in the car and Troy started to drive me to where he thought the Juab County Hospital was as it was on our way up to the Tubing Hill. Troy could only see the road between the steering wheel while Justin instructed him to keep left or right. Believe it or not, a mile later we arrived at the E.R. but still couldn't recall who or where I was. One of the nurses recognized me and announced that by sister was working in the nearby Medical Clinic who came over to identify me. Her face was familiar, but didn't know her, so they put me in an ambulance and shipped me to the Utah Valley Hospital in Provo with a concussion. My sister took the kids to that hospital and Justin stayed up all night with me. I had a severe brain concussion, but not a subdural hematoma, so my brain cleared and I was given another chance. At this stage of life-age 74, I am not sure how many chances are left as I have already had four brain Sub-Dural hematomas; injected with a Covid Vaccine, which gave me the China Virus; shot in the face with a shotgun; three shoulder replacements; two broken backs; broken hip; three knee surgeries with one turning to Merca and having to call 911 from the hospital bed to get help; nose surgery that went bad shutting down by kidneys and other body functions and a few other things. So Justin, you have already saved my life with the blotched nose surgery, and now that I found the dairy of what Troy did to save my life, thanks boys, I am proud of you. Dementia may now be settling in, so just put me on a small plane with no parachute or gas and I will take a small flight over the sagebrush. Remember, I know how to fly a 747 and been in one plane crash with niece Samantha. Thanks TROY COYN JONES. 

Love Dad.