HAPPY THANKSGIVING. FOR SOME IT MAY NOT BE SO GLEEFUL

As the reader of this blog may have figured out-this writer of free scribbles' has a passion for History of any kind. The last chapter of History has not yet been written, and it may never happen, at least not yet. Thanksgiving is a term to describe whatever any individual or group of people choose it to be. As a kid growing up, a term I use sparily as some may suggest I may never ever Grow Up, and there is reason to believe that is not in my internal core. Like Robert Frost wrote in his poem about the Road Not Taken, I have often taken the road less traveled by-just to see what's over there. If the popular place to visit is Hawaii, then that is the only State of the Union I have never gone, nor do I wish to, at lease if I can stop it. Although my days or years on earth will eventually catch up with me, on this Thanksgiving Day, I have enjoyed the peace and solitude of sitting in front of the fireplace which not only gives me the heat from its glowing embers, but makes me want to give Thanks to God for all that which has happened  and gave to me. Most folks may want to be with their family, friends or just a big fat turkey, I like to pretend my fireplace is liken unto the one I grew up with on the same block as my father and his father before him. I would play around the stove with my Cowboys and Indian toys, which eventually had me wondering why we thought the Indians were the bad guys. It wasn't long until I got heavily involved in why I thought it was so special person to be a Cowboy, just like Randolph Scott, who to us kids, looked and acted liked Alma Jones, the father of the Nephi Jones Kids. He, like Randolph Scott was always the "Good Guy." I soon came to realize our thoughts may be related to where we grew up and what other people have infiltrated our brains to accept. Initially, I think the Nephi Jones Family gave Thanks to God above- the real creator of all of us and the things of the world to use as sparingly as possible, but for our own benefit. Later on in life, I soon was to study at least in thought, that if we were bad kids, our Mother who threaten to send us back to the Indians. At the time, the LDS Church was heavily involved in seeking out Indian(or the Native Ones) kids to place in homes so they could get a chance to have a good home to stay in and get proper schooling. It sounded good at the time, as we became good friends with many of them. Then when summer came, they would go back to what we used to call the "Reservation", but would return when the fall school Bell rang. I started a new sentence, as I had to go get more coffee as it is too early for my afternoon siesta, and I learned living with some "Ancient Ones" that naps are good any time the body tells us that. The Mayans or the kids of the Mayans would often come up to me and put their hands together and rest their heads on their hands.That Was My Sign! I also recognize that I can't type too long until the burning cedar logs were calling for other logs to join them in the hot coals. Besides, I don't like the narrator of the classical musical station I listen to, as she reminds me of a California Valley Girl, with mush for brains. And in between John Wayne movies, I fell asleep. Even in my own castle, I have to have earmuffs on to squash the obnoxious noise of vehicles up and down the streets and the jackhammers on Main Street, who for the third time, redoing the corners And I forgot what I was going to write about today, but it could be that throughout life on earth, we have one giant load of being Invaders. I traveled to one country where an interpreter told me of how the Spanish of Spain Invaded the Aztec's and killed men and took their women as wife types or concubines, and forced people to build churches or shrines, as long as they found gold to send back to their old countries. And American citizens are now realizing that we to have been invaded and financially raped by Invaders, but perhaps we did the same coming with Christopher the Columbus. Regardless, I do wish a happy feast of food for the belly and food for your thoughts.Traveling that off road may be better than the Freeways we(but not me) are accustomed to. And some of the folks that get on TV to have you send them money to help feed others, may, just may be your Scammer of Scum! Be careful out there. You just may have a human near you with an empty stomach living under a plastic bag. At least I know one!

IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN A "LAST RESPONDER", PERHAPS YOU SHOULD PREPARE

For many Americans, we no longer have the Boy Scouts of America, which Motto was "Be Prepared". During the time of the Cuban Crises in the early 1960's, and our dealing with 3 people who many thought were the "Cream of the Crude" of Presidents, or at least that is what I heard on the grape vine! During those times, we may have been a little too late in Being Prepared, but I sure was. I filled up two fifty gallons of rain, snow and drinkable water; TP and yes even a "One Holder". My neighbor didn't like the idea of having that "Crapper" by his home, but at my age, it was unclear what that rumblin down under was doing! And I loaded up on cases of Spam, as WW Two boys reports "that can kill ya", but one thing or another we will survive, then shake off these old curly skins and between in Heaven or Hell, or maybe somewhere in between. I hope we don't have to learn computers in the  next world, as I have been trying to re-write this blog for 12 straight times but the new protection or windows or bogger keeps messing what I put down, so here goes. If a storm comes flooding, my new home is built up about two feet off the ground so it is just sitting on a pad of concrete. And I have a fireplace and a pasture where I grow trees, then chop them up for wood, and a couple years Nephi City didn't protect their citizens and a fire up Payson canyon made it so we had to turn off the gas for the furnace. That was perfect as I got Moms cooking pot out and cooked on that, then heated water on the stove for my shower. Then if things get so we are over taken by the so called leaders of Anti-Americans, I have access to plenty of ammo and guns. I even have a "Crapper", but my neighbor doesn't like it next to his home. My brother Hal was a front line Medic during Vietnam and is very proficient when we went fishing. I was in a hurry to get down the gravel incline and went down and scalhipping me. The old head has a lot of blood and he put bandage over it. A couple drove by and slowed down to see if I was okay. I was a little peeved so I hollered" You better get the Hell out of here before he comes after you. Well, it worked and he and Doctor Andy Oldroyd put several sutures in while Doc Jones was removing the pebble looking marbles under the scalp, So he was prepared too. And my last responder refers to the ambulance drivers; Doctors and other staff who help us all gets older and bones rattle and roll the older we are. The last Responder is seldom talked or wrote about but is important, They get you in the car or ambulance to prepare the way. Please don't stop and gawk. None of us hang around earth life too long, so make it slow on your destination. I have my headstone in pre paid for it.Put your funeral together so your kids don't have to sweat it out. This whole written processes keeping changing colors under some lines but not all, and no I am not smoking mushrooms.

TWO PLUS TWO EQUALS ONE

Two plus two equals One, but don't tell my grade school teacher. I will attempt an explanation. As our posts of a third million folks demonstrate my love for history, and so many inquires of who my ancestors are. Well, fundamentally I think I must have been naping when God created us in that Department, so if Racelle Humble gets her book written on the Nephi Harris Family, maybe she can take on the Jones folks. Now where was I. The first page should show the Pedigree chart of my paternal father, then the second item is the Pedigree photo of the William Jones Family. You may have to stretch them out to read, but don't use Elmers, as it didn't work for me. and yes, I still have my grandmothers reading glasses. 

ONE MORE HERO FOR ANYBODY WHO KNEW-CORRINE GARRETT OF NEPHI, UTAH

On the level of a sitting President of the United States, most citizens were shocked that President Franklin D. Roosevelt came down with a case of Polio which was unknown to most of us Americans. He came down with it in 1921 at age 39. He was on vacation in Canada, and those attending to him thought it was just the flu, but they determined it to be Polio. He successfully served an unprecedented 4 terms as President, and although it was a crippling disease which made it impossible to walk without assistance. Even then, many people in the know, maintain the Polio was liken similar to a bottle of raw milk- after you shake the bottle, once it is settled the cream always rises to the top, just like Corrine did. Dr. Jonas Salk discovered the vaccine in 1955 and needless to say it was better than the "vaccine" related to the Chinese Virus and most of us kids did a forced march to get the shot, but that was a different era when folks spoke more truths. That is the foundation for our story about Corrine Garrett, our wonder child of Nephi, who was hit with Polio. Though it crippled her, she was about as strong as FDR and rather than tell her life story of personal strength, we attempted to attach a letter containing the words of Ilene Sanders, a next door niece of Corrine, which was typed and read by Linda, a sister to Ilene. We do so that this as it is the life and times of both Corrine Garrett and Eileen Sanders, both of which have now lost all the kids of Rob & Erma Jones Garrett and the children of Glade and Lucy Sanders, with Ilene lost as she is trying to help others in need when it should be her to receive help.This writer is certainly doesn't know how these DAM (yes Corrine, I said it)computers work, but for sure they make things worse when they constantly change things, nor does this author know the ways and means of how God works, but for Corrine and then for Ilene Sander's, both should feel a crown of glory awaits her when she and all of us awaits the rewards of living a life of  kindness or "burnt offerings"! 

HARRY S.TRUMAN AND MORE OF MY HERO'S

Some time ago, we wrote in this historical blog-some of my hero's and thought I would write a little more about each of them. As I write, I am enjoying the warm fire inside my abode while the incoming snowstorm brings us close to the Utah Winter Wonderland, which will eventually bring new life to our crops which assist all of us-God's children, living and surviving during our life on earth. Watching the snow pound against my fortified home, I further recognize that above all those that I consider my Hero's, I recognize what God does for us. Then I appreciate my AG teacher-Jay Dalley, who went out of the way to help us win FFA championship teams. Mr. Dalley took the time to explain how all living things come from God above. As it is almost Sunday, I feel Eternal gratitude for the One that gives us all. Now where was I? Oh yes, while on a bus ride through Independence, Missouri, I recognized former President Harry S. Truman walking with a man that appeared to be Secret Service. President Truman, to this Wanna-Be Historian was my personal hero, not for the bombs that killed so many of Japan's common folks, but those bombs helped stop the inhuman treatment of the Chinese and the forced march of our soldiers, one of which was be a future friend and co-worker-Thomas Harrison, who was in the U.S. Army assigned to protect the Philippines with the 21st Artillery. It wasn't long until the Japanese overran Tom's besieged Army, and later wrote a book "Bataan Death March". When I spoke to him many years ago, he wrote the book, not for money, but to help American's know all aspects of the death and destruction of wars. After World War Two was over, Tom Harrison wasn't given much credit for keeping up the morale for he and the 72,000 other prisoners who were forced to march the Bataan Death March, and if they didn't, the Japanese found delight in killing 18,000 soldiers who were slow because of no food, intense hear and disease. Tom said those fellow soldiers would never be recognized like the Marines on Iwo Jima, but Tom took pride to know they kept the Japanese at bay until General MacArthur got out of he war zone. Tom went on to be the Chairman of the Utah Parole Board to consider the men on Death Row and tried his best to bring the good out of the bad. And after waiting for the Army to learn the truth of what he did 66 years before, he received the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star; Legion of Merit and Bronze Star. He died at age 93, and this writer is not  a Medical Examiner, but my guess is that his Cause of Death could be due to "Haunting Past" duties. He was and always will be man of pride and courage but accepted the Army Medals on behalf of the boys he made into Men! First photo is Jay Dalley; second is Tom Harrison; Harry Truman & image of God!

WE ARE NOT SURE WHO THESE FOLKS ARE, SO LET US KNOW IF YOU KNOW,

 THE JONES FAMILY HAS BEEN COLLECTION PHOTOS AND VARIOUS PAPERS FROM THE JONES; TOLLEY AND HARRIS FAMILY COLLECTIONS SINCE THEY ARRIVED IN THE NEPHI, UTAH AREA IN 1852, IT TOOK US SEVEAL YEARS TO DETERMINE THAT MANY WERE OF THE MORMON FOLKS WHO STAYED IN THE BRIHISH ISLES AND WE SENT THEM BACK TO A MUSEUM FROM WHENCE THEY CAME. NOW WE CAME IN TO POSSESSION OF ONE MORE THAN WE HAVE NO IDEA WHO OR EVEN WHERE THEY CAME FROM, SO WE PUT IT OUT FOR ALL TO HELP US IF YOU ARE WHY THEY ARE AND WHAT THEY CAME FROM. REMEMBER WE ARE LL DIFFERENT AND NO NEED TO REMIND US OF THAT. JUST YOUR REASONALBE GUESS IS CLOSE ENOUGH FOR US.

THANKS FOR YOUR ATTENTION AND NO IT IS NOT APRIL FOOLS DAY.

DOC STEELE OF NEPHI WAS A GREAT DOC IN THE ARMY, THEN JUAB COUNTY

If I was to describe Doc Steele of Juab County, I would say he was a great Medical Doctor for all, but did so without being one for all the people. I grew up in the small rural town of Nephi, Utah, where we had the choice of  Dr. Beckstead; Dr. Boston or Dr. Steele. Our family went to Dr. Beckstead and to Dr. Boston. My guess is that Doc Steele was guy of a different breed than many folks of this town settled my Mormons, but I didn't see him as unusual about his practice, except he could outrun the Sheriff. I believe he was a good Doctor, as I was told so by people that routinely went to him, even in West Juab County and knew those twisty roads better than most Deputies. I did know that he preferred doing his surgeries in the Payson Hospital and not the Juab County Hospital, but did work with the other physician's that covered the Nephi hospital. My only common experience with him which showed me he was a great human being occurred many years ago when I borrowed my fathers truck to head up north before their was homes at Santaquin Hill. The only other home close to the area of York, was a pioneer type settlement, where the train stopped from the North, and local Mule Skinners including by grandfather-Wm. Jones, would unload the train supply and freight them on to the Territory mining town town of Frisco. Later on, the east side of the railroad tracks were extended to Nephi and highway 91 was built. To the east was the Ranch Home that belonged to Dr. Steele, and run by Gordon Pay. I came to know Mr. and Mrs. Pay and they were good people, so I later couldn't figure out why some didn't go to Dr. Steele. I did know that his sons didn't go to Juab High, but to Wasatch Academy. I did have great faith and belief in my Aunt Erma Jones Garrett, and her polio stricken daughter-Corrine Garrett, as both those two and Uncle Rob were the crème of the crop and honest. Corrine was good with Math and helped to keep track of their farm account as well the Account at The Serv, which was owned and operated by the Garrett family through generations, then appointed to be the Nephi City Recorder. Both Erma and Corrine wouldn't hear of any gossip, so with too much of Uncle Hy Tolley & Jones DNA in me, if  I started a rumor,  Aunt Erma would shake her finger at me and be more mad than a wet hen, and I was too afraid that Kirk Sanders or Bob Garrett would come down and kick me a block or two. I remember the time that Bob got upset with me at the Garrett Farm, when I was learning to drive the Big Tractor which pulled the hay wagon with the others loading the small bales. I popped the clutch and threw them all off. I learned that lesson quick when we got to the stacking yard and Bob threw me in the water well. I couldn't swim, and Bob wouldn't help, but told me to stand up. I guess I thought the well went all the way down to Kowloon Tong, China. Now back to Dr. Steele at his home at York, when I was driving my Dad's truck up Santaquin Hill. I later found out that I blew a piston in the truck, with smoke coming out of the hood and something hit the hood. There were no walkie talkies or cellulite phones in those day's so I walked to Dr. Steels home and knocked on the door. It was early in the morning and no answer, so went and peered through the window and down the stairs the Doc. was coming fast and mad like the hens I was used to move to get fresh eggs for Mom. And I knew that Corrine Garrett was the billing lady for Dr. Steele, and could put at ease the incoming patients, as she had a warm smile and patience. When the Doc. opened the door, I closed my eyes waiting for his punch to my face. He was calm as can be, and gently asked what was the problem. When I slowly said "maybe a quart of oil", and told him the truck issue. He quickly answered like he knew the answer and said something to the like of "a can of oil aint the problem". He let me use the phone and I called Alma, who the Doc knew and respected. I felt at ease, and the truck was brought home, where Steve Greenwood knew my Dad and got him another one. Anyway, for what I thought Doc. Steele would take all 2 or 3 kidneys I may have, I came home with only dirty shorts! So all bad guys may not be so bad and all good guys may not be so good. But to me- Doc. Steele was great, so on this Veterans Night, help appreciate Doc .Steele with me. An Army Vet and one good man and Country Doc who did home visits throughout all of Juab County in earlier times, before the Freeway and Crazy Big City Drivers.

TODAY IS VETERANS DAY OF 2025

I had a hard time sleeping last night, so I just awoke and hurriedly got that pot of black joe to wake me up. I blame the sleep difficulty on how or what to write about the importance of today-to those who accepted the call from Politicians to fight and possibly kill others, if peace is not tried first. In the end it may not be difficult to understand that when life on earth began, that fight is what we have turned to do if the threat of fight doesn't work. It's sad as all sides fight to kill those family; friends; innocent humans and the beauty of God's beautiful earth. I love listening to a radio station that has no commercials, and none of those dam news casts, as they are as bad as many of our politicians, who don't really want peace, but stir us to hate other humans, which is about as anti-Christ like as any evil. I believe in sending a cashiers check to support that radio station, but never give my name or address, as they used to pester me to want more, much like the scammers that are so full of the "Cow Pies" in our corrals. I used to put the names and photos of the many photos of my family warriors from the past, as well as the history of one of my early local Hero's-Mat Howard, who was the big cigar smokin "Godfather" of the Juab County men that fought with Teddy Roosevelt on San Juan Hill. As a youngster, I often went with Carl and Cliff Howard along with their Dad Jack Howard, who was a Rock Hounder of the Juab West Desert to search for Gems. There were times as a kid, I wanted to stay at Starr Ranch and the Howard Compound to listen to Mat tell the stories of how he fought with the evil of the Spanish Invaders to Central and South America and in Cuba, who were intending to take America. From that time on, I wanted to be in the Army to fight for our Freedom and Liberty that we were accustomed to in Juab County and the United States of America. In the 4th grade, I soon put away my toy Cowboys and Indians doing pretend fighting at the Old Hollow and purchased Army men and sat up with the good guys and the bad ones, and would fight each other around the fire place in our front room at the Jones Abode on 7th North in Nephi. After being a No-Account in the 4th Grade, the teacher-Earl Bowles disciplined me and I soon listened to what he had to do fighting the Germans during World War Two. I was intrigued with what he had to do the ungodly things for Freedom. I convinced myself to eventually go to Germany and see and talk to those people of why so many of those decent people listened and fought for one of the worst of the worst-Hitler, who was not even a German. We had access to where they gassed and burned humans. My brother Gary B, who was an elite Army Ranger during the Viet Nam Era, provided a way, and at 25, he got me on a C-130 with the Army, and I spent a month on a base and started to interview Nazi's and why they loved to kill Americans. I also had the chance to drink "warm" beer in the beer joint where Hitler put his Nazi leaders together. I had an interpreter with me and recorded it as well as notes. I put them with the notes of listening to the old soldiers I passed papers to in Nephi, who fought in France during World War One, including Uncle Vic Jones, who never healed from the shot in his hip; my Uncle Ren and Vic Harris and Uncle Dell Jones. Then my Aunt Pearl's husband-Bill Ockey brought his 30-40 Craig rifle to my father-Alma Jones, who was in the Army during World War One, as Bill didn't want to ever shoot "that Dam Gun" ever again. "I have killed enough". Years later, that long barrel rifle was returned to the Emma Carter Family, where it remains. But among my collections, I was able to find the bayonet for that rifle and after matching the serial number to Bills Rifle, we gave that to the family who had his rifle. After my brother Hal Jones was sent to fight on the front lines of Viet Nam as a Medic, he was told that he was in the worst place of the fighting, and found that he was taking the place of another teen-ager from Nephite-Blair Wilkey, who had just been killed, leaving a widow and two small kids at home. I had a neutral chance to tell one of those sons, the details of how his father was killed, and he appreciated it, and all though he was grieved, the Army never told the widow or the boys. I came to honor Ladd White, who took over as a father type. In starting my work in a law enforcement position, I was scheduled to interview and/or interrogate a man who had serious charges on him, and the criminal justice wasn't really sure if he was a great liar or a realistic killer. After learning his history in Viet Nam, I was able to get his DD-214 information,  and I spoke to my brother-Weston Jones, who knew everything about the C-130's, which were used to transport Troops; Tanks and Agent Orange to Viet Nam, and he gave me the information I needed. I asked the prior Fly- Boy that was charged about what he did in the Air Force, and he told me the truth, and that gave me the information I needed, and he soon coughed up the truth about his dastardly deeds, As he told the truth, I said that could help him, but his bad crimes could hang him! So in closing, I give praise to all my family, friends and millions of Americans who fought a fight they didn't really want, but when one is called to fight or flee, most chose to protect the freedom and liberty of all people of America and the world. My Viet Nam rice picking hat goes off to them, and my knees buckle in prayer to God, who is the most powerful of all creations and conflicts. Choose This Day, Which Leader or Dumb Leader You Choose To Believe. Those dumbbells' do live and fester among us. And on a personal note, perhaps a prayer for my Nephi Nephew who presently serves with the U.S. Coast Guard, who are heavily engaged in the intervention of killer drugs and with the transport of the illegal Aliens who hate America, as Anti-American Leaders invited them here and gave them our money.... or so they say!

                                                           

IT'S NOV. 9TH, 2025. NOW GO BACK TO 1962 AND CELBRATE THE MARRIAGE OF VERL & KAYE WILKEY

As soon as Verl graduated from Juab High School with the Class of 1962, he and Kaye was married in the Manti LDS Temple. They had met each other in a variety of Church activities. They both were teenagers, and when we all were young, we do stupid things. But from my point of view is they both got hitched up with the right partner's. Verl was too young to drive to visit Kaye, so he would ride his bike or get on a horse to visit. On their wedding day it appears that Verl forgot his wallet, so his father-Fred paid for the marriage license and even signed the marriage document. Most folks around Nephi may not remember the father of Verl, but I sure did. Like Verl, Fred was a great man around town, and this Nephi Jones Boy would often visit the home of Fred and Helen. Many years ago, Fred noticed my father-Alma Jones, trying to level the city road in front of the Jones home on 7th North. Fred stopped and talked to my Dad and it wasn't long after that Fred came back with a big truck load of gravel and that was at no expense. My sister-Jaynette lives in that family home that was built in 1885, and she too has purchased a lot of gravel to keep it in good shape with the terrible traffic of the school and gym, but still better that living it the "Big Salt City." Verl must have picked up the same great work ethics as his father, as we don't teach our young folks of having fun while we work hard. While I was on the Nephi City  Council, I got more impressed with Verl and Kaye. They just couldn't be away from each other for long. I would often see Verl come to the Nephi offices on Friday, and that was when Verl would check to see if their was more home or business Inspections to compete. Kaye was content waiting in the car while I was cleaning windows and wave to her. One day when I was wearing my blue Bib Overalls,  I walked into a local business, and the owner greeted me and declared-"Did you borrow those Bibs from Verl Wilkey?" I think he wanted me to giggle, as he had the same dry whit as me, but I said something to the affect "If you compare me with Verl Wilkey, that is a great complement". When I returned to Nephi after living in the noise to the North, I built a new home in the same block as my fathers and grandfathers horse pasture. I asked the Nephi Mayor-Mark Jones if I needed to make sure the home was built according to my standards as well as what the proper codes. Mayor Jones gave me good and honest advice, much like his father did-Ron Jones. He said their is no reason to pay a lot of money to hire another Inspection, as "Verl Wilkey does that for Nephi and was the best there is". Mark additionally spoke of Verl having a lot of knowledge with his own business of doing the same work as his father did. When I noticed that there may be a problem with the building of the home, as Verl had left a Red or Blue  tag (I am color blind), I was glad Verl was on the job and got on the builder to make sure the problem was fixed or he was going to pull his license. I was personally and professionally competent that Verl had "True Grit" similar to the John Wayne point of view. I have so much respect for Verl, and Kaye, as she appeared to be the cream of crop, as I think she is like a raw glass of cow milk. Regardless of who much you shake the bottle of milk, the cream will rise to the top", just like Kaye. She will be a little lost without Verl, but if one thinks about it, he was not left you Kaye. He is really still with you, as he is just on a temporary vacation from hard and ethical work. I didn't attend his funeral, but was impressed with the writing his obituary, which has a photo  of Verl in his work Bibs, and that impressed me, liked seeing Joe Garrett in his work Bibs and one could see Joe wearing a good Bib to attend meetings, just like he did when he was on the Nephi City Council. I will miss Verl as Kaye will, but she has lots of great family and friends, so if your are one those people, "Here's your sign". Look at the Anderson Funeral Obits as I can't figure how to download it here and now put 12 straight hours typing this, so good night and the noise of the constant planes flying over is going to turn into "Welcome to Airport Number Three",  and I left "Airport Number Two" to get away from constant noise. Oh well, I guess I will just have to accept the Change of what Nephi used to be like and  Kaye has to do the same, but you will always have him.

WHILE ON EARTH, WE HAVE HERO'S, BUT FORGET TO TELL THEM THANKS

Regardless of where we live on earth, we learn from people who helped us through life. But all to often, we don't appreciate or even recognize them. Some of us believe that our earthly father and mother or grandparents may be the ones that got us walking the straight line and not to wander towards that giant cliff below us. Some may even get help from the other side, calling them Guardian Angels. If you have not found your hero or heroin, seek them for a visit. You may never ever know who they are, but you just may feel their presence. Some of mine were on both sides of the Jones; Tolley and Harris kin that helped to forge the way to Nephi during Pioneer Days of yesterday. I once was asked to assist in an Archeology dig at Martin's Cove. We did so with the cooperation of the University of Wyoming; the LDS Church and Bureau of Indian Affairs. I had previous experience in those digs which often reveal more than most would want to know, as many of those Handcart pulling families departed a little too late and caught in a severe snow blizzard. I sat on the side of the Sweetwater, but tears came when I could feel my ancestors going through sheer terror with the frozen ice cutting their legs, and wolves would dig the snow graves of people they lost. Although I am a sinner, I often feel grateful that Nephi and Martha Jackson made it as they were and remain my family.  Although I sin, I have fervent knowledge that God hears prayers. I think back of the people that I worked with in Nephi and give thanks to friends, neighbors and the great teachers all through the good times and the difficult times. For me, when our Class of 65 graduated, I felt bad for the three classmates that may have walked with us, but their lives were cut short from wars; gunshots and cancer just before graduation. My parents didn't have the money to pay for Scout and FFA Uniforms, so us 5 kids learned early in life that if we wanted to go on to college; LDS Missions; fish or hunt, it was up to us to earn the money that was needed. Often, it was more of a gift not to have the money for gifts and each of our parents repeatedly said the best gift they could receive was the non money gift of a letter to them when we were working or serving God or our country. I was once trying to make it on the University Swim Team and swam in the lanes between classes, and what a great experience to have two armored federal officers come to where I spent time teaching kids from the American Fork Training School. Those kids had real joy in splashing in the water, something they cherished more than swim champs. The two men pointed to the man standing at the window watching, and wanted to chat with me. I put a towel around me and had a twenty minute chat with Jesse Owens, the 1936 gold medal winner who defied Adopt Hitler. He was a real life hero to me, and challenged me to keep competing as that in and of itself makes a hero to somebody. I didn't make the swim team, but felt honored, especially when he told his two guards to leave us alone for a chat. And another Hero that will last forever is the time I met Gene Fullmer, who had been the Middle Weight Champion of the world in Boxing. I was his driver and took him to a law enforcement conference and then twice to the hard core inmates at a prison. I then had a similar experience with Paul H Dunn who was a gifted speaker. I once yelled at President Harry S. Truman and he yelled back at me. I have tons of hero's and so has each of my siblings. With no gold nuggets in our overalls, nobody could be more lucky to live in the era we did.