Hal was given the middle name of Harris, as his mother was LaVon Harris, whose family came to Nephi with the Mormon Pioneers. Of the four boys born to Alma and LaVon Jones, Hal was probably the most handsome and all you have to do is look at that smile. As a kid, he didn't seem to like work like his brothers, as he was always laying on the Thermoid woven Hammock or under the big apple tree, and always chewing on a long straw. He was told he couldn't buy that Honda 50 from Kirk Sanders unless he found work. With his pair of Engineer Boots, he walked 30 yards and Steve Greenwood hired him as a tire recap expert, and he never seemed to take a breath since then. Of all us four boys and one girl, we thought he was the least of us that could pick up a foreign language, at least one that was East of Nortonville, anyway. Well, David O. McKay sent him a letter and told him to pack his bags, as he was heading to China. And in those days, they didn't have a Language Training Center but expected to spend the extra six months learning it in the field. When Hal got to learning it, a violent civil war broke out and all LDS Missionaries' where shipped to another Pacific Rim Country, and Hal learned a new language. He finally came back to Nephi, which was a very rural town, but it ain't no mo. Hal thought he could find some dry hay to take a well earned nap, but Hell No Hal. He and my other brothers got a call from an Uncle Sam, so Hal went back to a Hell Hole as a Medic in the upfront 9th Infantry Division. He survived, but little do most of our teachers and kids have NO real knowledge of what "Shell Shock" or PTSD is. And the older the Veteran, the kids have little respect for the soldier, or so it seems. So Dec. 7th isn't just a "Pearl Harbor" day, but Hal's 79th birthday. We headed to Vegas to watch the National Rodeo Finals. And I was willing to buy him a cake, but Hell No Hal chose Pie. I knew we shouldn't have sat behind that chute! Yup, he got a face full of .....well....lets call it a Cow Pie.
