A gal from Mona and a guy from Nephi-a match that was made and remains in heaven.

Donna Newton was from Mona while Mike Anderson was born and raised 7 miles away in Nephi, Utah. They didn't meet until both attended Utah State University. Indications would show this was a match made forever. After 44 years of earthly bliss, Donna unexpectedly passed through the veil following a massive blood clot in her lungs. Through the years, Mike runs the decades long tradition of operating the family Anderson Funeral Home in Nephi, while Donna was the Matriarch raising their three sons in Draper, Utah. Mike has always been professional but personal in the business, but when the process involves one of your own, it takes on a very personal sense of loss. So it is with Mike, and now requires all of us to assist him and the family. At this funeral, Mike's son Chad, who is also a Funeral Director-excelled in describing grief by saying "Grief is merely love with no place to go". One received the distinct impression that Donna Anderson loved gatherings of family and friends, then had a magnetic force to make new friends everywhere. Her presence was felt at the Vine Bluff Cemetery yesterday. Following most Grave Dedications, attendees scatter, but not this one! Nobody left, but remained and mingled, even when Mike tried to excuse people so workers could seal the vault. Even in death, Donna had her way, and all stayed while grave workers finished their job. Her radiance was there and you could see it in the eyes of the grandchildren. Those of us in Juab and Salt Lake County remain in good hands. The tradition of Miles Anderson continues with Mike Anderson; Kay Anderson Carroll; her son Brace Carroll; Joe Christensen; Chad Anderson and little does four year old Miles Anderson Jr. know he has a future job in the funeral business. I reached down and shook the hand of Miles Anderson to congratulate him.

Running for a political position in Nephi is much like going on the Utah deer hunt.

In Utah, the deer hunt remains an important family sporting event, although the sports media refuses to accept or cover it. The event involves spending a considerable amount of money to purchase a license; rifle; bullets, colorful attire and a truck load of Vienna Sausages and Spam. We help the environment by planting apple cores on Jones' Knoll, but in 60 years of planting, apparently we ain't no Johnny Appleseed. We hike and hike and see lot's of fall country and beauties of nature you just can't see from I-15. But then the work comes when we see that buck that started out as a 38 pointer, but shoot an entire box of shells to hit it and when he finally drops, we find it was only a two pointer. It requires team effort to clean and drag it back to camp; then to package it. It turns out that venison steak costs twenty five times what a good beef steak would cost, but at least we contributed to the local economy.

Same story goes for running for a political position in Nephi City.  It starts out being fun, knowing that if one wins, we are giving back to the greatest town a kid could ever be raised in. To be called the Mayor of Nephi or a member of the Nephi City Council puts you on the long list of public servants that have served notably throughout our history. Since I have been away from Nephi for 40 years fighting the evil empire of politics, my entry into the political arena seemed like a lunatic, and with insurmountable odds. That became a challenge I was willing to accept, and had fun walking around my hometown and get reacquainted with folks; hike the same trails I did as a kid passing papers; observed the beauties of Salt Creek and the great homes and features of my hometown. Now that the vote is in, it would appear the fun is over and the real work begins for me and Skip Worwood. But since I liked cutting and wrapping up the venison and giving it to people like Clead Blackett and Ervin Jarrett, I think my position as a member of the City Council..........will only make it more fun, and look forward to my four years of service to Nephi citizens of today and the future.

Thanks to all those that supported me, even though it may have been blind faith. I accept the challenge, and hope I can call on volunteers to continue to run the City, not us the politicians.

A letter to my son.

Dear Justin,
It has been nearly a month since you transformed yourself out of this sphere we call earth life. Although your transition remains a shock, I am starting to adjust to your reassignment. I can feel you at various places and times, and know you are in a better place to help others, as your tender heart did here. The official documents will show you made the change on Aug. 22, 2017, but we now have substantial evidence it was at 10:31 PM on Aug. 21, 2017. On that night, your great grandparents clock had been ticking for 125 years and suddenly stopped. I tried a variety of things to get it started, but finally gave up. The other night, for no apparent reason, it started to tick again at 10:31 PM, with the chimes ringing on the hour more loudly than ever. That was my sign to not let tears control my life. I will strive to live with faith over fear, and pray you and other guardian angels will assist all in need. Growing up, I seldom told you and your brother I loved you, as it was just not my nature. I hope my actions demonstrated my love and devotion to you. Your brother and I never missed any of your concerts, basketball, soccer, baseball games or practices, and you didn't miss Troy's. I have learned to appreciate your love for all people and animals who you treated with kindness. My vow is to try to be more like you in kindness. I know of no kid, dog or grown up that didn't have an instant liking for you. I am confident your mission on earth was fulfilled and now promoted to a higher level of duties. On the other hand, I can't imagine you; Craig Siciliano and Babe Ruth playing harps, so there must be a baseball game as a break from heavenly duties. As you know, the week before your transition, I felt the presence of my mother who had passed away. It woke me up with the dark feeling of death. She was hurrying about, gathering people for the arrival of a family member. In calling the family they reported being okay, so I discounted the feeling. A week later, on Sept. 21, we now know they were preparing for you. My belief is that God was fully aware of the many years of your pain, and gave you the exit ticket, but you and only you made the final choice. Years of counseling only seem to make you more depressed and we have learned that depression may be the worst disease, with drugs and alcohol being the tools to assist in terminating the suffering. You were going down a sliding cylinder, and although there were moments of joy you grasped on to, years of damage had already been done. I went to the Fort Union baseball park the other day and re-discovered the plaque we put on the clubhouse honoring your 38 year old coach who died on the field. My CPR failed and we couldn't bring him back, and all of us felt that sense of great loss. I wrote the words in memorial to Craig Siciliano, but as I read them this time, the tears rolled down, as then and only then, did I recognize the words of 24 years ago, may have just been written for you in advance. You lived your life exactly as the words describe which I will re-write, but first, know this my son, I have always been proud of you, which will remain forever. Nothing lasts forever, except forever and my love for you. The three amigos we will ever be. "To laugh often and much; to win respect of intelligent people and affection of children. To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. We miss your inspiration and dedication."

Love, Dad

A little history of this Nephi house, but more of one of it's dwellers-Alyth Bigler Howard

I have passed the pictured home on several occasions, and when it appeared that nobody was living there, I walked over and checked the exterior portion of the stucco work. Whoever lives there now, I hope they know it is structurally sound, at least the exterior, as I helped Alma Jones stucco it after Alyth moved there from the Howard Ranch in the mid 1970's. She wanted the home as it was close to the church to walk to; a few steps away from the grocery store and centrally located for family and friends. Alyth was born in Nephi on Sept. 13, 1910. Her father was Abner Tranter and the mother being Ruby McPherson. She had one brother and four sisters. When she was ten, the family moved to Silver City, which was a mining boom town in west Juab County. When she was thirteen years old, she was called by the LDS  Bishop to be the Secretary of the Silver City Ward Sunday School. That started her many years of devotion to the Sunday School. After high school graduation and attending Henagar's Business College, she had an occasion to meet one Maurice Howard, a son of Mat Howard, and star Basketball and Tennis player for Nephi High. They were wed above a vein of silver on Sept. 1, 1933. They lived in Washington, Springville, Provo, Denver, and then returned to "Home Base" on the Howard Ranch, a couple miles north of Nephi. Back before the freeway and when there was plenty of water around, the Howard's had a lot of fruit trees, and one of the finest herds of cattle around. When Thermoid came to Nephi in World War Two times, Maurice went to work there and became a Supervisor. Their kids were Dixie, Pat; George, Bruce and Jean. Bruce had the DNA of his athlete father, as he became a star wrestler and track star. He slowed down on the running, so he became a pilot and increased his speed. Maurice passed away in 1973, and that was when Alyth came to town. I came to know and admire both her and Maurice and all of the Howards. First photo shows Alyth on top row on far right. Second photo is of her last home and third photo is from 1962 Clarion of Juab High School. Bruce Howard is top row in the middle.

"Stupid is as stupid does". In other words, dont watch the Eclipse tomorrow.

While driving to Salt Lake last week, I noticed two UDOT signs over 1-15 which were putting drivers on notice that law enforcement officers were present for the next ten miles and enforcing the law. They were tactful, but in reality, it was a speed trap with a noble idea...to slow us down. I slowed, but the guy on my left took it as an incentive to kick it up a notch and speed more. Sure enough, UHP had several officers stopping speedsters who couldn't read and use logic! It reminded me of a saying "When you are dead, you won't even know that you are dead. It's a pain only felt by others. Same thing when you are stupid". Instead of taking a chance in watching the Eclipse tomorrow, regardless of how good the protective glasses are, I found an idea which may be less harmful. It is from the Juab County 4-H club of 1937. Just a thought.

In rural Utah, the Juab County Fair is over for another year, and was as good as any.

For 155 years, Juab County puts on a great fair and this year was no different. Rather than concentrate on any one event, I examined the process of the several day "Blue Ribbon Bash". I was awe struck by the many volunteers that were involved with it's success. It reminded me of a family or class reunion as there is so much preparation with details, yet most people seldom see the hard work by the volunteer staff. I assume others were just as proud of their blue ribbons as I was of the two I received. My $6.00 was not as much as what the road rage warriors received within the controlled violence of the derby, but I was excited to slowly drive away with a ribbon. My straw hat goes off to those people that give their time, talent and effort for a great cause. I even appreciated the Judges, who gave me a blue ribbon, and wrote a note on how my perfect wildflowers could be even more perfect! That was like a good football coach, wanting to make you better, even if you did just score the winning touchdown. During my Fair wanderings, I decided to search for one over all number one blue ribbon display, and couldn't find it......... until today. I had to hurry home and get my camera and return to take a photo of this painting which said so much. The painting was completed by Greg Ingram, Nephi's version of Leonardo da Vinci. It was displayed at his funeral today, and one of the speakers spoke of how Greg volunteered to paint murals for the County Fair people and always around to help others. Today is a two for one day and with no fare. I say thanks to all the volunteers of the Juab County Fair, but also to Greg Ingram. He receives the blue ribbon of life.

Happy Birthday to Nadine Blackett, the teacher and principle of the DUP Museum in Nephi, Utah

I am a day late and a dollar short, but wanted to say Happy Birthday to cousin Nadine Blackett of Nephi, Utah. She keeps the Daughters of Utah Pioneers museum in perfect running condition. Her mother would be very proud of her, as Birdie Jones was one of the best teachers in the Nortonville School of the 1890's. Like mother like daughter, as Nadine knows how to take people on tours of the museum and teach so they will remember the importance of our heritage. In going through our original records of the School District ledger, I was surprised to find that her father-Len Jones, worked as a janitor at the school, being paid a whopping $3.75 for the month of July, 1894. My guess in those days, school employees appreciated any nickels and dimes they could get in case it wasn't a good wheat year. Here are a couple pages from the ledger, although the writing is a little faded because of the pencil type computer entries!