I am not sure, but I think I started my love of history when I was in the 4th grade at the Central School up Track Street in Nephi, Utah, USA. Me and a co-hort was always getting in to trouble. Our mischief was fed by one another, regardless of what it was. Our teacher was Earl Bowles who had returned from fighting Germans in World War II, after which he graduated from Utah State University. He was short but stout and reminded me of a gunny sack of potatoes. Earl, like the sack of potatoes was just too heavy for a kid or even a man to pick up, but I had an Uncle that could put two sacks of potatoes on his shoulders and carry them to the truck during his days on the farm in Idaho Falls. Earl had a demeanor that he could not only man handle me, but could toss me on a train and send me to the Russian Front and nobody would notice. But me and my clone kept pushing him to the limit. There were many occasions when I remained after school and wrote multiplications on the blackboard. I don't think it taught me the discipline that Earl was taught in Boot Camp, but I was always good at math. On the one occasion I remember the most was the time me and my buddy hid in his closet during recess. We had the intentions of coming out at lunch break, thinking he would go to lunch with the kids. Nope, he ate it at is desk and only a few feet awake from the dark closet we stood. We then started to feel our way to the north and found it was where the hot steam was pumped into the old iron heaters in each of the rooms. We would touch them, but muffle the terror of pain. There was no way out other than going back on the door we entered. I was terrified and thought my life and school days were over. I was the leader, so Mr. Bowles kept me after school, and it was a one on one lecture. He said he was going to do something to me that would teach me discipline. And he did just that. He took his thin yardstick and broke it over my head. My father was in the Army during World War II, and when he got out of line by chewing gum, the Sgt. made him dig a 6 foot deep hole to bury his gum in. The yard stick didn't hurt as in those days, they made them very thin. But the destruction of my gangster mentality was knocked senseless. And he smacked me with such ease! There was no malice, just a broken yard stick. Then came the good stuff. In detail, he told me what he had to do to the enemy of the World War. I was intrigued or perhaps he re-arranged my brain cells. I started to love history, especially military history. I would often walk home from grade school with neighbor Don Johnson, who was dang smart so we would talk of the Nazi party. My other walking partner was Clyde Gowers, who was also a genius. We now call them Navy Seals, but they were first called "Frogman". When arriving home, I told my folks about what the teacher did to me. My mother and Dad looked at each other then asked me, "Did you deserve it". I could 't lie and said "Yes". They said they knew the Bowles brothers and they did what was appropriate, at least in those days. When I started college, my Major was History as I loved it, but when I was told that I would only wind up as a teacher, I changed it which took an extra year then graduated with a Degree in Law Enforcement and more education in Ed. Psych.; and College and Fingerprint Expert. I worked in the Criminal Justice System, and in doing so, traveled to all States of the Union, except Hawaii, and to various countries. At each location, I had to learn the history of the city; the criminals and the crime, completing 30,000 Interviews; Investigations and Interrogations. In addition, during the times I came back to Nephi to visit folks, I asked if I could retain the family records; artifacts and journals that our family had collected since our family arrived in the 1850's. I sealed and buried them til such time I retired and would then show them to the world. I retired ten years ago and since that time, have written 877 blogs at the blog spots. Thousands of people throughout the world have viewed my chapters, and this month, I hit my goal of having more than 10,000 hits in one month. As of a few minutes ago, we had 10, 888 people look at a blog entry. My mother taught me how to type at age 12 and because of my love of history, I now have shared it with the world, including two boxes of LDS papers and journals that belonged to them, as my grandfather ran the Church and the School when Nortonville was a beautiful valley of green. I bought the scanner for $8.00 at Deseret Industries and the used Laptop for one yet, but will slow down. After I enter a blog, I then give it to families of those that may want them or to Museums in Nephi; England and Wales, as my grandfather went on an LDS mission there in the late 1800's when the photos were taken. Brigham the Young would often stop in Northville to v$100.00. But the scanner is wore out and so is my brain after several brain concussions. So I am not disit Will Jones, and left a variety of papers there, which have now been returned to the Church. I am proud of my three brothers and a son that served in the military. I never did, but have worked with them on several occasions throughout the world and honor those who have difficult assignments on the front lines of our country.
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