We think we know who this photo belongs to, but we are asking anyway.

Sometimes it is difficult to sort things out with photos and papers that date in our family history.  For one reason or another, I have been collecting thousands upon thousands of papers and artifacts since our family and friends arrived in the Utah arena during the Mormon march here in 1847. I came across this photo and although I think I know who it belongs to, I know I better put it on here as it is open to the public around the world, and even had family contact me from England a few year ago. So if you want this photo, claim it and I will deliver deleter de sooner de better. On the back, it appears to be of Wilma and Bill Pyper with their grandchildren of Wendy, Tara, Greg, Mark and Scott. It may have been taken in 1966.

IN CASE YOU MISSED THE 1983 FUNERAL OF FRANK TOLLEY, WE HAVE ONE FOR YOU.

It seems to me that if you or somebody you know has a last name of Tolley and they lived in Utah, Idaho, Canada or anywhere west of Cornwall of England, or go back even to France, we all just may be related. Frank Tolley is the son of Uncle Hy Tolley, who is the son of Wm. Fisher Tolley and one of his wives when Brigham Young said it was just fine and dandy. Frank lived down below the tracks where his son Roy Tolley finished out his last days of earth life. As a kid, I would pass papers to Frank and next door to his mother in laws place in the still standing log home. She pretended she didn't understand English, only her native Indian language, but I had heard her speak English, but Frank was always good to be and would often cough up the $1.60 a month I was supposed to collect for the Daily Herald back then. Lots of stories of the old west could be told about what went by the creek that run between Franks home and the tracks, but we will wait for another time to talk of Avenging Angels that left the Nephi downtown area and went along that direction. But to me, he had a great family, and his son Roy knew about every place in Nephi that a water line was placed and the City would often call him who had it all down in his head. My hat goes off to Frank. 

ITS THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN-NATIONAL RODEO FINALS IN VEGAS

 For ten days in Vegas, the real sport of the United States put animals with and against Cowboys to see who wins. For us Nephi Jones Boys, it is better than Christmas; And we are proud of the Utah Boys from Utah and especially the Wright Family of Beaver County. They are showing what family togetherness is all about. We may need your help this year though. The financially squeezer is on us common folks that pretend to be cowboys. The hotels are doing triple the cost of the past, most goes to the building of a new professional football stadium with many of those players turning in to anti-Americans. We found it cheaper to rent a 1967 VW that we can fit all our gear in and place a one ton bale of three way hay on the top and try to pay for our room. What the heck, it is worth the chance. And Johnny's Bail Bonds accepts money in advance, just in case we decide to keep throwing cans of Spam at the street urchins who get in their Mercedes and drives away.

FREE THANKSGIVING COOKIES at Trader Joe Garretts place!

Don't run up to Joe's place, as all the cookies are gone! Joe's daughter-Marian gave all two of them to my sister-Jaynette and I, but my-oh my, they were good. It was a Trade deal. I was willing to give her an original photo of her Dad-Joe Garrett, if she gave me something. We are both learned as youngsters that you didn't have to buy or sell anything, it was just a trade deal with all the Garretts. And as a youngster, I was the one kid that was nominated to clean up the cow manure at Spin Mac's milk shop and carry our share of the milk home, and I was the only one in the family that hated milk! Anyway, I was going through old photos and found one that had my fathers note on the back and thought it was Joe Garrett as a kid. Back 100 years ago, even real men as youngsters wore dress type skirts and Marian recognized it immediately. She had the best "trader" gift for me, giving me a cowboy pillow and hand made. I prized it and she liked the old photo. And she picked the best fish and chip shop in Utah. Thanks Cousin, and we won't list your age, but I think she is almost an adult, but she is still a smart ass, so she has some Jones still in her, just like another cousin-Emma Ockey Carter.

"JIMMY CRACK CORN" and I did care!

As  a kid in Elementary School, we often sang the song "Jimmy Crack Corn and I don't care-My Masters gone away". At the time we enjoyed singing the song, having no idea what it meant at the time. We no longer hear that song, as some folks think it was offensive  like doing away with the gal who made the Aunt Jemimah flour or cake mix. To bad, but you kant changed history, but learn to deal with it. As a high school student, I found my father and his four sons working on a part time basis at the Juab County Flour Mill, as I didn't know it at the time, but we were helping our parents help make ends meet. There were a lot of good people working there including King Sidwell and the Powell family and Bert Winn. When I started singing the song, it was the time I first learned it was written prior to the Civil War and written by a Black Slave who liked his owner, but didn't mind it when he died. At the time, I was concentrating more on making sure we filled up the small bags of flour for different companies, then later go to Ralphs market and find that the prices were different, even though all the flour came from the same crush bin. I knew it was all good, as it was from the Levan Ridge. I bring this up, as last week, I was feeding "cracked corn" to help fatten up a Steer, and decided to take a photo of  a 1940's Flour Mill receipt, then take a photo of the cracked wheat I was feeding. Take a gander at all the various flours that were made right down town in a great rural town that ain't rural anymore, as outsiders want it to be just like the big city they came from! Lot of stuff in earth life that doesn't make any Cents!

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VOTER TURNOUT WAS 88 % OF REGISTERED VOTERS

Well, just like major media, their must be some tricky dicky stuff going on here.....but...but....it is kinda of true. It was in November, 1976, so says The Times News! So there. If you have been a Juab County resident for the past 50 years, you will remember much of what was happening in these parts and recognize many of the people, and even my Uncle Grant Jones, who was not doing to well at the time. You may even be able to spot some of the little kids in the Second Grade Thanksgiving musical. This is the only paper I need to read, and I will keep searching the old family papers to see if Harry S. Truman won the Presidential Election that one year. But don't go stand in line at Allen's to get your Thanksgiving Pumpkin Pie. I stood there all afternoon and they never opened. But I am going back over to the Venice Show House, as a John Wayne and Lauren Bacall movie is on and you know what they were like off screen! Yee gads, what is our small town turning into!

THIS HISTORY LESSON GIVES HINTS ON HOW "NOT" TO SHOW YOU ARE A MAN.

For one reason or another, when men are young, they desire to be older and tougher looking, and when we get old, we want to appear young and buff. Some gals fall for that stupidly, but some folks can see deeper than what is skin deep. Call it too much Testosterone and no smart genes, but difficult to be other than what we were born with. At the overripe age of 75, I look at some photos of the past and see self samples of why I am a Simpleton! The last photo shows this stupide driving his jeep down Elephant Hill near Moab, Utah. That suicide 4 wheel road is considered the most technical and dangerous road in Utah. So me and my hiking buddies had no other choice other than to do it. Thirty years ago, I was a Sinner and the guy on my blind side was a Saint, who prayed for us on the way down. The guys in the back got out to watch from above, and at least I knew their were gals along the cliff to watch bodies fly. We knew  when any vehicle that goes off the slickrock at SilverRock had to pay for the four wheeler and the helicopter ride to take the body remains out. So what, my Testosteronal's called me out. Don Blanchard hollered which way to move and I skillfully maneuvered it, and yes, I was sober, just no sense! And there was plenty of gals for the pickin, but on our successful return, none were going to pick me. Oh well! Act Two was on March 10, 1973. It was at Alta Airport in the east part of Salt Lake County(which is now all homes). Me and my college roommate-Bob Pliley decided to do our first parachute jump. It was only to show off to the gals we invited along to wrongfully impress. Bob has now been successfully married to Judy for 40 years and I have been "successfully" divorced for 40 years, so all battlegrounds are neutral. Bob was the smart one, as he knew he could impress gals with his heart, money and brain, but not Jones. He wanted to impress that blonde bombshell, but it didn't work well. In those days, the jumper would stand on the wheel axle of a fixed plane and when the co-pilot waved, you jumped and pulled your own rip cord. I thought he was waving me to jump, but he was telling me to come back in as they were over the homes that were built around the airport, like what is going on with Airport # 2 in West Jordan. Part way down the Freefall, I came to my senses; pulled the rip cord, but only saw homes and no airport. I landed in the backyard of  a family home, and hit hard enough to knock me out. By the time the rescue folks found me I had one hell of  backache. The worst thing about it, "Patti" wasn't impressed. Okay, third time is a charm, right. The Hell it was! A herd of cops on motorcycles were heading up Spanish Fork Canyon to meet at a Law Enforcement Conference in Moab. As we drove up the road, we could see a lot of hay bales scattered along the right side, so most of the Harley Cops went speeding ahead to stop the truck. Me and my partner stayed behind to move the bales of the road then help the two young gals buck up the bales. I held my gut in and since I hauled hay as a kid, I knew I could it again, although 45 years old. Nope and neither could my buddy-Dennis. I thought I was "in love" with the gal on my right, but as you can see by her face, I was all show and no biceps, and that is the end of the story.  A sad but true story. In the next life, perhaps, just perhaps, I will hire a woman to be my Coach to find a date, but for now, all that we learn here on earth is to teach us for eternal life!

THIS IS A PHOTO OF MILTON HARRIS, ONCE OF NEPHI, UTAH

In case you were unaware, this writer has cheated death on multiple occasions, but for some reason, I have been brought back to life. That and the fact that I am three quarters of a century old, doesn't help with memory retention. I do feel the over whelming need to put the history of what I have seen; heard or felt for the world to see free, and unlike the ads on TV, where they say "AT NO COST TO YOU". That is misleading as it does cost those who work and pay the taxes as D.C. just writes out another check Any hoots, I just came across this old real life photo of Milton Harris, who we used to call "Bud", only because our mother did, who was an Aunt to Bud. First Photo is of Evan Harris and last photo is of Evan's grandson-Milton. We also put in a couple pages of LDS church documents to see who was what. As you may guess, both sides of my family originally came to Nephi in 1852, so I have tons of relatives with all kinds of inter-related names. But No Adams and Eve's in recent history! As you may see, Bud was a Stud before his time. And his hair was naturally curly, and born in 1916, two years before they invented Brylcreem, where "A little Dab Will do You" ads. It was popular in the 1960's as was Vitalis, if you could stand the oil running of your hair down your face on a hot day. 

JUAB HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION-1964 COMMENCEMENT

Have you ever wondered why we call it "Commencement Exercises"? Or why it is not good enough to be a Doctor or Lawyer, but they are always a Practicing Physician. Seems like they should of practiced while in Medical or Attorney school, not while operating on my Gall Stones or going through my fourth divorce and looking for my future ex-wife! It is not old history, but it is history so here is the program from Juab High School graduation of 1964. If you don't know where Nephi is, it is four miles south of Nortonville, or about four miles north of Broadhead Ranch. One block south of the Old Hollow where we mistakenly massacred the wrong Indians when we had Salt Creek Fort by the old football field. This copy was the one I had when I tried to scribble which graduates got Starships or Scholarships or whatever the spellchecker says.

 

JUAB LDS STAKE GRADUATION-1964

If you reside in the State of Utah or other LDS type high schools, the Mormon church has often worked out a deal with a local school district where by which, any student, if inclined, can sign up for a class during school hours to learn more about the religion. If you live in other areas, even Paris, they may work out the same type of deal with the Catholic church and perhaps even work could visit the Notre Dame Cathedral, and regardless of your belief, such adventure to be there(at least during the era I spent time) there is a very spiritual experience. If you lived in the Juab County area, some of us scoundrels would refer to it as "Cemetery" as opposed to the true name. Any who, these are they that graduated way back when and one of the pages may show those who completed four years, instead of just the regular three years. Most astounding is the one young man who liked to look at the gals a great deal and by gosh he was one of the "student talks" on the subject "Danger-Curves Ahead". Who in the H E Double Toothpicks chose that loose goose to speak on his day dreams?

Like it or Not, tomorrow is election day and Yes, our future depends on your vote.

Back in the 1960's, I had to wait until I was 21 to vote, and it was plenty difficult, but I understood its importance. I was living out of the United States and had to go through large steps, including a letter from Jack Bough, the local Police Chief to sign an affidavit showing I was a resident of Nephi. My vote didn't elect a new President, but I felt heavy in the heart to think I voted as a true American should. So should you. Today, and with courtesy of The Times News, we have entered four pages from the March 31, 1966 edition. The front page shows one of the Jones boys winning a State Championship, but in those days, it didn't receive a lot of fanfare, and no tax paying dollar was used to transport school kids to any FFA championship or ProVita contest. Like going to Lagoon or the Terrace Ballroom, we hitched a ride with others going. At the re-read, you can see who ran for political office back then, and by now, we have time to figure out what we should or shouldn't voted into office and the after effects it causes. As for me, I got to head over to Chicken Time for some "Cowboy Beans", then down to Fillmore to see if I won for the oldest geyser to hunt deer with no license and no rifle, then turn my hunting clothes back into Andersons Clothing, then court by date to the Venice. Which will scare her the most-my beans or the movie-"Dragonslayer"? 

I CAN'T FIGURE OUT THE TIME-BUT KNOW TOMORROW IS ELECTION DAY.

I have several clocks in my house, and since I don't listen to the news- not sure of the time with this Night Light Saving time switch, but know tomorrow is the normal day to vote. That is for Americans only, if you are just here visiting. If you are registered, your count does matter, even if it just to satisfy your internal American duty to do so and your mother! It is kind of like helping your neighbor pull his mule out of the muck-even if he is an Ass! But I got it figured out. I will set all clocks for 6 then I can sleep in regardless if it is morning or eve tide! Anywho, we are putting two pages of The Times News on the history blog, from 1966. It will show a photo of one of those Jones boys(grandson of Wm. Jones) who won a Speech Contest; Michael Paxman(son of Vera), who could play a horn great and the cast of Juab High School's "Sound of Music" with another Jones boy(grandson of Len Jones) and the never changing look of Bert Paxman and a champion basketball team, and at no cost to the taxpayer of a Rec Center. Enjoy the past.....it is our future.

OLD NORTONVILLE-PICTURESQUE; PEACEFUL; PLENTY OF WATER..NEW NORTONVILLE-???

The Pioneer town of Nortonville was located in the former rush and serene Valley between Mona and Nephi, Juab County, Utah. Although settled by the Norton brothers, they discovered that farming and ranching was too hard for their blood, so they sold the fertile ground to the Jones and Tolley families. Better for all, as the Norton boys knew business and went on to prosper, but so did the Jones boys. My father was born and raised there, in the small log home that was later torn down after Bish Belliston moved to Nephi. Two of the Tolley daughters married two sons of Edward Jones, and the two ponds just west of the freeway going past the north 1-15 exit to Nephi was built by the Wm. Jones family. The area once produced great wheat, and two crops of dry land Alfalfa. But that all went dry when a newcomer with training dug a deep well on the southern part of the Nortonville aquifer and all farmers went broke and out of water which is discussed below. The church/school was ripped up and the land has now been sold and business' have went up, and we hear rumors that Nephi City folks would just as soon drive all the farmers out so they can grab their water and annex to the middle of Nortonville for another power substation for more business'- not for homes and family produce! Since the Nephi Jones Boys sold the last of their land there, we have no say, but feel bad for what people used to move to Nephi for, as it used to be in their ratified "Vision" declaration of Nephi City. We will show an out of print book written by Dr. Richard Wm. Jones that shows some of the history of Nortonville. We have given one of the books to the local DUP and listed some photos and information from the book. We recognize that history.....is history, and we can't turn it back, but hopefully we all can learn from the past and with no water like a politician may inaccurately declare. Enjoy our rural area, as it won't last much longer. Seniors and locals are afraid we will be just like the other big cities that people wanted to get away from and Politician's don't seem to mind taking the water via the farmer who has to give it up to our government" for the benefit of the people" and at a cost to "Grandma Moses". 

COME AND VISIT EUREKA IN JUAB COUNTY BEFORE IT BECOMES A PARK CITY

 A Hundred years ago, there was a lot of gold and silver in Park City, and the small town flourished with miners from around the world. When the ore ran out, so did most of the workers, but Park City returned to a rural area with lots of space and good people. Then it wasn't a good place to even visit, as Hollywood and lust for money came in herds with no respect for their culture and history, and it is no longer a place to live or visit with too much glitter and fake people. But there is still time to come to Juab County and visit Eureka. It still has the mining nostalgia and the motorcycle gang that are friendly and have their own museum. You can eat a "Pickle Bomb" while you play pin ball; see the old jail, then take your ATV on a nearby trail to see the other "ghost towns" of mines and schools. And do it before the Developers find out about it, as they will want to do away with their culture, and start stacking huts on top of each other, and then we have another anti-people big city again with no water. The topless bar may be closed but the destination is still worth the pleasant journey. And they just may give you a silver dollar, like the one I got when I ran a 5-K there a few years ago. Try Sipping Magic Expresso while there. That will give you energy to get back to Omaha or wherever you hail from.

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JUAB HIGH SCHOOL-CLASS OF 1962

Nope, it ain't his birthday, but since I came across it at about the same time I got my Juab County Property Tax MAJOR increase statement, I thought it just may be a good time to show the appreciation note of Weston Jones, who wrote a letter to his parents. Once we share the graduation announcement, then I will send it to that young whipper snapper. And, just for color, the Class of 62 had only two buses; one from Mills to the South and the other to Doc Steeles to the North, and now a days we have 28 buses!  And yup, poor Wes had to hike all the way to Track Street for school; hire Mont Jones to have his horse waiting so he could pass his papers on the way home.....and with holes in his boots and saddle bag's!