Benjamin Vere Wilson Auto biography

Benjamin Vere Wilsons Autobiography written in the 1970s

Sometime in the early part of the year 1915 my glorified celestial Father and Mother sent for me to come into their garden. Such beauty could not be surpassed anywhere. I learned that I was to leave on another mission. I was to leave with an escort for a beautiful planet called Terra. I would join a family in a place called Orderville, Utah. They told me I was very well acquainted with the members of this little family but in order to get an introduction, I would have to be born to them as an infant, and that I’d lose my memory, so to speak, and would forget everything about my Heavenly home. However, this was a necessary step in my progression and I could learn and gain a great deal by experience and if I would be faithful and obedient to those I had chosen to be my mortal parents, they would teach me all that I should do so that I may return to give my accounting and live with them forever.

Oh, the thrill that went through me, for at last my time had come to meet the Great Test. I could do it—I knew I could! At last I would receive a mortal body!

I kissed my wonderful parents and thanked them for all they had done for me, but my heart lay in my bosom like lead for I wondered if I could stand to be away from them so long. But I must go and so with a surge of courage I kissed them once more and began to make my plans. I saw them once more as we gathered at the Space Depot. Tears welled up in my eyes as I walked toward them to give them a final embrace. As my Father’s firm hand gently fell upon my shoulder, I felt a warmth I shall never forget. I saw tears of great concern flow down my Mother’s cheeks as the count-down began and the list of names was read off for those chosen to embark.

The journey was swift and straight and as in the twinkling of an eye I could see the beautiful green world I had been told about getting ever nearer. Then almost instantly One said to me: “We are assigned together for the period of your mortal life. I will be your Guardian Angel.” Putting his arm around my shoulder and motioning to the door, he said: “We get off here.” We left that beautiful shining chariot of light.

This was to be my home—Utah. Thoughts began pouring into my mind in a flood, but there was much to be done quickly to get my formal introduction to my earthly parents. I wanted to embrace them but soon found the meaning of the counsel I had been given that I would need to be born before we could communicate. Se we moved about learning more about my new world. I observed the preparation of the infant body which would be a house for my spirit to live in and enjoy. I learned that we would become one, and would look alike. So this was mortality!

I heard my mortal mother say one day to my father: “I feel the child leap within me.” From then on my work was constant. I felt great concern in the task that lay before me, I must see that this creation be as perfect as possible, everything must grow in an orderly manner.

One warm summer day, June 13, I heard my mother say in a voice of persuasive excitement, “My child will be born today!”

Wow, this was going to be a gib day and it truly was. For the first time I knew fatigue, for the first time I knew pain; and for the first time I knew anger for when someone picked me up by the heels and whapped me across the fanny, I yelled at them to stop. I guess I got the message across, for they quit and were a lot more gentle from then on.

It was really hard to understand the people in this new world. First I was spanked for something I did not understand, then I was mauled until I thought I’d die, but fortunately I was able to sleep through most of that and I was well fed, so I gained strength and decided it wasn’t so bad after all. I soon found I had a lot of friends and acquaintances increased rapidly.

My mother and father were great people: conscientious, hard-working, and setting a good example. My mother had gone to school and trained to be a school teacher. Her name was Susan—a lover of life and a great contributor to it. My father, George Benjamin (called Ben) was a pioneer, farmer, frontiersman, and salesman--yes, salesman. One day he was selling women’s dresses. He called on a girl by the name of Susan Cox and he not only sold her a dress, he sold himself; as a husband and been giving her dresser ever since.

My brother Carlyle, two years older than I, became a great playmate and friend. We competed together and each of us helped the other.

Orderville is a little town on Highway 89—the only town in Utah settled for the purpose of living the “United Order”, because Brigham Young called a group of people to live the law of Consecration. They shared work, food, and money and some years later it was discontinued because of selfishness on the part of some of the people. So it was here as a child of people who had been willing to sacrifice and obey the word of the Lord and consecrate themselves and their possessions to the Lord, that I was sent to begin my mortal experience. What a rich heritage. What a royal family I was born into! I was born at the Hoyt home in the southern part of town. There is a grove of beautiful trees and nice shrubs on a gentle south slope. My Grandfather and grandmother Cox were wonderful people and I love the place of my birth even though we moved to Hurricane when I was only 6 weeks old.

Dad had been a farmer and rancher, and drove freight wagons. He decided to move to Hurricane to make a permanent home for his growing family There we lived in a tent, and then built part of the old home. Life was a hard struggle to make ends meet. Dad decided to go into the sheep business. He mad arrangements with John J. Esplin to work for him herding sheep and uncle Leonard Cox also helped to influence Dad in this direction. He began to build up a little herd for himself as well as herding for others.

The years grow longer and the nights were lonely until Dad’s desire to be with his family grew so strong that he began to think of other ways to earn a living.

However, a few things happened at the sheep camp when we visited him that I will always treasure. I was past two—maybe nearly three when I heard my Dad whistling. I puckered up my childish mouth in the same we he did and blew, and guess what? My very own whistle whistled. I was really proud of my accomplishment. I remember a beautiful place in the forest, where the fragrance of mint and blossoms mingled with the fresh mountain air and I knew I had been here before. I wandered if it was here we had disembarked from our voyage to earth. Though I was very young, I knew I had been there. I can see it yet with a vivid recollection in my mind’s eye.

I remember how sad I was when I watched a sheep being butchered. As I observed its lifeless, blood-stained body still quivering on the ground, I wept for a long time. I was greatly troubled, and this affected me all my life. I can scarcely stand to kill anything.

I remember a fellow who worked with my father herding sheep. He was young, but he showed me many things. He taught me how to throw strait, and he cut sticks and helped me to build miniature fences and barns. I remember him well.

We planted trees, gardens, and vineyards. I remember holding the stakes while Dad drove them into the ground so that the grape vines would have support. I remember great peanut harvests, carrots, beets, sweet potatoes, and radishes. How wonderful the fresh vegetables out of our garden tasted!

Our dear mother was stricken with typhoid fever. Dad came to me and told me mother was very ill and we would have to go away to stay with a neighbor until she got better. Mina Hinton was a kind neighbor, but the days seemed to lengthen into weeks and the time dragged on so slowly before I could see my mother’s beautiful face. We missed her so much. Finally, we were allowed to go home. What a change in my mother. Her lovely dark hair was very thin and full of gray. I did not know until I was older that she had visited beyond the veil and that her spirit was called back through the power of the priesthood. It was at this time that I learned what prayer was and how to use it and how to talk to my Heavenly Father when I was in need of help. I was given a strong testimony that I shall always cherish.

One time Carlyle and I were playing in the sand under a beautiful Chinese umbrella tree. It started to rain and the lightning and thunder were all around us. Mother came to the door to call us into the house, and as I looked up at her I saw a bold of lightning rip through the roof of the house and hit the ground in front of me. Mother fell to the floor and Carlyle and I ran to her side. The pale, ghostly look upon her face told me that death was near. Her mouth was locked open because of a dislocated jaw, and her eyes were rolled back. We dropped to our knees and began to pray harder than I have ever prayed, calling aloud to Heavenly Father to bless her and to save her. As we sobbed out our pleas to the Lord, her eyes began to focus, her jaw snapped shut and she was soon able to speak to us. We had witnessed a miracle and knew a deep gratitude that God had answered our prayers.

Another great lesson on prayer was learned the night our mother woke all of us children and got us up and gathered us around her to kneel in prayer, for she knew something was wrong with Dad, who had gone after a load of wood. We each said a prayer and mother prayed earnestly that Dad would return home to us. We felt that there was going to be a change in our lives.

The next day we saw the outfits come off the hiss but someone else was driving Dad’s. Anxiety filled our hearts as we helped lift our father down off the wagon, and his groans at every movement pierced our ears. He was very ill—badly hurt. We learned that while he was pulling a large tree over with the wagon and teem hooked onto it, the wagon turned over on top of Dad, and though he was crushed and bruised badly, his life was spared. We learned the next day that Dad’s half brother, Iddo, had died. We have often wondered if someone from Dad’s family had to be called home for some special reason, and if our prayers for Dad had been the means of saving his life.

Dad had a chance to buy some land up on top of Smith’s Mesa. We were all anxious to get into the act, and be together as a family, so the fist summer we all moved up on Smith’s Mountain. The sand was so deep and hot we could hardly walk and our feet were blistered and bruised. We had to go barefoot in those days. Money was hard to come by.

Still being tender in years, many things happened to me that I could hardly understand; for instance, I was riding the grain wagon, playing in the newly threshed wheat, excited to feel the wheat dump down on my head. One of the harvest hands peered down into the wagon with a scowl on his face and in a gruff voice said: “Hey, kid, if you don’t get out of there I am going to cut off your ears.” I don’t think I was ever so frightened before or since. I always hid whenever I saw him from then on. Demoralizing fear came over me whenever I heard his voice, and it was years before I was able to understand that he was only teasing.

One morning we were getting ready for the tasks of the day when Dad said: “Son, go and get a melon for breakfast.” So I toddled off and began looking for a nice melon that would be ripe. I decided the biggest would be the ripest, so I picked it and then I found I wasn’t big enough for the job, for as I tried to pick it up, I dropped and it broke into pieces. As I looked down at what I had done, I was very upset. It was yellow, not red as I thought it should be, and I decided to taste it. I found it was the sweetest, best melon I had ever tasted. Just then Dad came over the hill and I thought: “Oh, oh, I’ve had it”, but to my happy surprise he only said: “It looks like you need some help”. So we ate that melon together and I thought he was the best Dad in the world. I got the tummy ache afterward, but I’d sure like to get my teeth into another golden core watermelon that tasted half as good as that one.

We had to carry our water a long way, so one morning dad said: “Vere, you and Ruth get your buckets and come with me.” Mine was a gallon honey bucket and Ruth’s was a five pound lard bucket. We willingly tagged along behind Dad. Ruth and I stopped to play, but soon I went on up the trail. But Ruth did not follow me. Sometime later, we realized that Ruth was not in camp. We all called as loud as we could, but no Ruth. We were frantic. Dad ran down the trail and then decided to go down into the sand wash and follow along to see where she might have crossed the wash. He found her tracks and they were headed strait to the cliff. We ran as fast as we could and called through the trees. We got to the cliff, dreading the thing we were afraid had happened. Again we called loudly and heard a faint answer down in the bottom of the canyon. We found a little pathway down the side and hurried down calling to her to stay where she was. She had found a deer trail and followed it down the side of the canyon. She had gone about three miles. She was about three and said: “I was going to find Dad.”

Another time, we stopped at the Virgin River on the way home and I saw a piece of cloth floating down the river and pointed it out to Dad. He jumped out of the wagon and ran right out into the river and picked up my little sister who was floating face down in the water. She had been asleep in the back of the Wagon and had awakened and fallen unnoticed into the water. What a narrow escape for Ruth!

One time as we were traveling from the mountain, Dad found that his bull whip had lost out of the wagon, so he left me with the team while he returned to search for it. I waited and waited, and after a long time, I decided my Dad was lost, so I thought I would go find him. I followed up the road. On another trip up to Smith’s we camped for the night at a spring half way up the hill. I could hear the lonely howl of the coyotes and the wind sighing through the trees. It made me nervous and lonely. The next morning Dad’s new hat was missing. We looked everywhere for it, but to no avail. On our return trip down the hill, I was walking, and right at the side of the road wad Dad’s new hat. The wind had blown it back by the road.

Time passed and we had so many discouraging experiences and so much hard work without much remuneration, we decided it was too far to haul the crops to market, so we sold the land and moved back to Hurricane where be began getting ready for my first year in school.

I dreaded the thoughts of going to school because I knew no one and I was so shy. But my parents convinced me that it would be a great experience. My first grade teacher was Mrs. Lnderand. At Christmas she left and Mrs. Savage finished out the year and taught me more. One day Carlyle and Morris Wright decided they wanted a change of Scenery so they asked me at noon if I wanted to go with them. So we sluffed school. I was about ten. Carlyle had some traps along the Virgin River and he wanted to see if he had caught anything. So off we went, sure that we could talk our way out of any consequences. I was barefoot and it was so hot I had to run in between the bushes to keep the sand from burning my feet until we got to the river bottoms. We talked about everything under the sun and what we would do if we found something caught in one of the traps. As we walked up a clearing we could see one of his traps. My eyes focused on something that turned my legs to jelly and the hair on my head seemed to be standing straight up. There, only a few feet away stood a cougar growling at us. I was frozen in my tracks. I don’t know to this day how I got out of there, but I guess I came unfroze because we threw so much dirt in his eyes he couldn’t see to chase us. I think I decided it was safer to go to school.

When I was thirteen, I was going great guns in scouting. I really wanted to get that coveted Eagle award and was willing to do most anything for it. So we set out at daybreak on our fourteen mile hike; Carlyle, Curtis Beams, Kue Beams, and myself. We took the river bottom route as was mentioned in the previous paragraph. Down to Berry Springs was eight miles where we pulled out of the river bottoms and on an old trail to finish the last lap of our hike. We had eaten all our food and five o’clock found us very hungry. We were discussing what we would like to eat for supper, when right above my head, I heard a rattlesnake sing his deadly song. I quickly looked up to see how close he was, and there in a bush half coiled, and half tangled in the twigs I saw the ugly head drive swiftly toward my face, but he had miscalculated the distance and missed me by only inches. I thanked God, but in the moments that followed I soon found it was not over. For I heard rattling all around me. Literally hundred, it seemed, had joined the death chant. Then came a cry of hysterical words that formed a message telling me Carlyle had been bitten. I cautiously but quickly retrace my steps, but it seemed that from every direction for thirty more feet came that sickening, horrifying sound of rattling snakes, crawling and striking at everything that moved. Finally I was free and ran around the rocks to find my brother. It seemed like that had been hours, but in reality was only moments. I found that Carlyle had been bitten, but the gangs had hit the skin and gone on through and the deadly venom was running down the back of his hand. We made an “X” cut over the wound and sucked and spat out the blood. To our great relief, Carlyle did not suffer any severe affects. But we were scared so badly, we all felt ill.

During my fourteenth or fifteenth year, we were going to have a big Thanksgiving and everyone was gathered for the feast. The boys wanted some excitement, so we decided to go ride some calves. Some of the guys had horses and the rest of us went on foot and caught and tied up several calves of good size that we thought would be good riding. One of the fellows climbed on one with a good set of horns. As he got settled on his back, the steer broke before we could get the ropes off. He took about three jumps and the rider was on the ground and that big set of horns was coming at me. I barely leaped through the forks of a peach tree in time and the calf hit one of the limbs and became discouraged. I guess he thought his target was a little hard.

By this time the vineyard was producing beautifully and I suppose it was quite obvious that I liked grapes, because Dad made the comment that I always picked the longest bunch of grapes that reached clear to the ground.

Our only income was an apiary of bees, a few cattle, a team and a few chickens and pigs. We all had our chores and tried to keep abreast of the work, but there was always more and I had to put off the things I wanted to do.

I learned a lesson in honesty but it was rather embarrassing. It seemed that some of the guys knew where there was a good cowhide that has been hanging on someone’s fence for a long time. We decided that they must not want it, so it was decided that Carlyle and I would take it and sell it, and we would get half the money and the other fellows would get the rest.

We met at the designated spot and they gave us the hide. We took turns dragging it down the street as it was pretty heavy for us, and we were pulling it by the tail. We were met by the buyer who was one of Dad’s best friends. He took the hide and said he would give the money to Dad. Well, that did not sound too good to us and we did not go straight home. But eventually the “Bad Guys” had to go home and Dad knew all about it and we received a real lecture, which hurt me worse than a whipping would have. Anyway, I am glad that someone cared enough to help steer me in the right direction.

Speaking of hides reminds me of the time we were out chasing wild horses, when we came upon a strange looking trail of what seemed to be a dragging chain. Our curiosity was enough to send us on the trail. We followed for about five miles and found a coyote had been caught in a trap by his foot. The chain had caught in some bushes and he was nearly dead. The other fellows killed him with a rock and we skinned him out. Deward Ballard took it and dried it and prepared it and sold it. When work got around that one of the boys had sold a fur, one of the local trappers decided to see if it was his trap and he took hoof prints of the horse and made other unreasonable and peculiar claims and he came to Dad and accused me and I ended up paying for a hole in the $7.00 hide. I hadn’t even helped skin the animal. But I had been one of the group. Well, I decided to pay him off so that there would be no trouble. I found out that people will go to great lengths to make trouble over a little money. But the fur was not mine and at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. I am grateful to my Father who taught me to be a peacemaker and pointed out the better way.

I met with many temptations and I was often having to make decisions that were quite difficult. One Sunday some of my best friends talked me into staying out of church and going to look for some girls. We did not find any girls—I suppose they were all in church as we should have been—but we went over to the old tithing barn and after playing for a little while, one of the fellows pulled out a deck of cards and we played some game and thought we were having a good time. Then one of the group said he had found some Bull Durham, which was tobacco in a small cloth sack. They all decided to made a cig. I said I guessed I wouldn’t and started to leave. They all began to chide me and tried to get me to roll a cigarette. I took the sack and started to make one when my conscience smote so much that my nerves came unstrung and I started to shake. I threw the cig on the ground and said: “Roll your own. I am going to church.” And I did go in late. I don’t know what they said after I left and it doesn’t matter, for that day I made one of the most important decisions of my life. I decided that the friends I had grown up with were on the wrong road and were trying to get me to go with them. I knew then that I had to find some new friends or go my way alone. I did find some new friends and though they were younger than I they were great guys and I love them still. All but two went on missions and they are great men and good fathers.

Twenty years later at the Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake I met one of the fellows who I had walked away from that Sunday—that fateful day in my life-and I could see him with tobacco stains on his fingers and lips, he had wasted away and his health was gone. I am sure that I got a glimpse then of what my life would have been if I had not had the courage to leave my friends and make the right decision when I stood at the cross-roads. The Lord let me see clearly then, the difference in my life and his. I’m ever grateful that my Guardian Angel stood beside me and said: “It’s time for you to get out.” He has been a great friend to me and I love him and am anxious to feel his hand upon my shoulder and talk with him again face to face.

Early in the spring a group of us were cleaning ditch. Bishop Johnson of the Hurricane North Ward came to me and said: “Vere, I’d like to eat lunch with you” so we ate lunch together and the conversation stopped rather abruptly when he said: “Vere, the Lord wants you to go on a mission.” I was silent for a few moments. I had talked about it and though I would like to go but there was just no money and it seemed impossible.

I talked to Dad about it and he said: “Well, if the Lord wants you to go we will do everything we can to send you.” The ward had never sent out a missionary. I told the Bishop I would go the following spring.

I trucked fruit all summer. It seemed I wasn’t able to save much so I went to Marysvale to work in the Deer Trail mine where they were mining gold, silver, zinc, and lead. Temptations of all kinds were thrown up in front of me. I’d had several girl friends that I liked but non seriously and all at once I met three who impressed me very much. The miners tried to get me to drink and smoke with them bit I was able to resist everything the Evil One had designed to throw me—except I did take a cup of coffee as I had never tasted it and I thought it smelled really appetizing up there in the mountain air. This brought me much discomfort of mind and feelings of guilt and so that was my first and last taste of coffee. Finally they knew that I would not join in with them.

Around Thanksgiving, I was getting ready to go home for a visit. My partner and I took a shaft by contract, and we worked very hard to make our needed tally. One morning we decided to do some blasting and we drilled a dozen holes to place the dynamite in during the noon hour.

I loaded up the car with ore while my partner planted the fuses. I wanted to get the car unloaded so we could leave together and I kicked the blocks away from the wheels and gave the car a shove, but it wouldn’t move. I walked around to see if there was something in front of one of the wheels but there was nothing. A again pushed with all my strength but it would not budge. I decided to wait for my partner to help. But waiting, I decided that I would check the wheels again and again tried to move the car for the third time, to no avail. All at once a sprinkling of dust and rock came from the roof. Horror crept over me and I crawled into the deepest corn of the shaft and then it happened. !Tons of rock and dirt fell down about 30 feet ahead of me. Had I been able to start the ore car, I would have been under all that cave in. My partner came hurrying to see if I was all right and amidst the dust which was choking us we began to make every effort to get out. It took us about two hours to dig out and stand in the clean mountain air. Thoughts of gratitude filled my mind and I knew that again my Guardian Angel had been on guard to save my life. For two weeks we worked to clear the shaft and move out all the rubble. When it was all removed, I went to the boss and told him I was quitting to go on a mission, so he paid me and I left for home.

I found that my truck had been repossessed while I was gone. Everything that I had tried to do to make money had failed and I had less than when the Bishop talked to me.

I told the Lord that I would accept His call and leave the rest up to Him to open the way. I received my call in February and by April I was on my way. I knew that if I did my best and served the lord that He would bless me and open the way. After a few days in the Mission Home, I left for a two year mission to teach the Restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and all its principles in the Southern States Mission.

I first went to Mississippi where I met many wonderful people. My first companion was Elder Carnley, a Southerner, who was eager and anxious to carry out our assignments. We held many cottage meetings and worked mostly in the country. Many people listened and many would have thrown us out if they had their way. We tried to follow the direction of the Spirit and learn all we could about the work. One day we nearly got run over by a man who either did not see us, or intentionally wanted to run us down. My companion saw him coming and pushed me into the barrow-pit and jumped in after me just in the nick of time. But as a rule the people were hospitable and friendly.

Elder Conover was my next companion and we were sent to Truman, Mississippi. We worked hard, tracted much, and traveled in the country on weekends visiting the Saints and investigators. We were together a month and then were called into a District Conference in Hattiesburg. This was a spiritual feast and then I was assigned to work with Elder Ashel J. Evans of Vernal, Utah. I enjoyed working with him very much and he was very considerate and things began to smooth out rapidly and I felt that I was making much progress and that my testimony was growing so strong that I began to be anxious to bear it, where before my fears had held me back far too much.

One day I did not get any mail and I suppose Elder Evans could see the dejected look on my face. When he finished one of his letters he said: “Here, read this, You’ll enjoy it.” So I read the letter as I was feeling lonesome for we only got mail once a week as we had to calculate where we would be a week ahead. If we did not figure it just right we would have to wait until the mail caught up with us.

This letter Elder Evans handed me turned out to be from one of his favorite cousins—her name, Lola Manwaring. I still remember the strong impression that came to me while reading that letter. I felt that I knew her. I read it over again and was impressed with the way she expressed her thoughts and the neat way she wrote. When we got back to our room, Ashel handed me a picture and said: “That’s Lola.” I remember how beautiful I thought she was and I made some comment about wondering if she would write to me. He said he thought she would. He wrote her a letter and I did too, asking her if she would correspond with me.

So that is how it all started! I think I loved her when I read her first letter and began wanting to meet her in person. But that was in the fall of 1936, and two years away. So I had to be satisfied with a few letters until sometime in the future. Elder Evans and I worked together four months and I truly enjoyed my time with him. At the next district Conference I was assigned to Ether C Wolfley and we went to Tupelo, Mississippi, a town where a tornado had struck just a few days before we arrived. 500 people were killed, mostly children in a school. I was surprised how coldly we were treated. The terrible tragedy had not had much effect on people. They were not humbled and willing to hear the word of the Lord. Then I understood why God had to deal with people the way He did in days of old.

We became very discouraged because no one would talk to us, no one cared; and so the Lord sent us to a more fertile field. I received a letter from my Mission President and he said that he had a work for me to do in Atlanta, Georgia. So I packed all my things and said goodbye. When I arrived in Atlanta I was informed that I was to work with Elder Ray E. Hanks right there in Atlanta. We were to play our guitars and hold street meetings. Elder Hanks had an electric Hawaiian guitar with a strong output and it could be heard for great distances. We held these street meetings twice and three times a week.

One day in downtown Atlanta we were holding a meeting in front of Lord’s Department Store where the manager, a good friend, would let us drop a cord down from a window on the 3rd floor to power the electric guitar. Elder Hanks was very talented and when he began to play, people began to gather in great numbers. Then we would have a prayer and begin to preach. As we taught the gospel, the crowd would begin to dwindle. Then we would play more music and another crowd would gather. We made many friends and opened up many homes to the elders.

One day Elder Hanks was speaking and I was conducting the meeting. I noticed a couple who stopped and listened for sometime. Then the husband decided to leave but the wife did not whish to go. However, he insisted and took his wife away much against her will, as she argued with him. I knew that she was interested, and regretted that we could not teach her. Six months later we received a letter from the Mission President which read something like this: “At last I’ve found you. Some time ago, I stopped at your meeting on Lord’s Store corner. Your missionaries were playing, singing, and teaching the most wonderful thins. I wanted to hear more but my husband insisted on leaving. I have prayed that I would find out more about their Church and at last I have discovered you. While I was standing near you missionaries that day I saw a glorious light come from above and rest on the head of the one who was speaking and testifying of the truth of his message. A sweet feeling came over me and I wept all the way home. Since then I was stricken with a severe illness and have been bedfast. Could you please send those boys over to my home to teach me more? As Elder Hanks had been released, I asked President Grandy, my District President, to go with me to find this lady. We walked several miles and had a wonderful talk together on the way. We finally found the house and I wondered if Satan may have gotten there before us to interfere with the Lord’s work as he often does. I knocked hesitantly, and we were invited in. We heard a voice from the other room exclaim excitedly, “Oh, Its those Missionaries!” We were taken into her room where we found her lying on a couch, unable to move very much. We told her we would meet with her and tell her the truths of the restored Gospel. I met with her several times and she was a golden contact. However, I was transferred before I could finish teaching her, and the problems which descended upon me caused me to lose contact with her so I do not know the end of her story. But I know that some day I shall meet her again.

One thing I want to insert about Elder Hanks was of the time we were walking to Brennan, Georgia. Having left around 6:00 and hoping to catch a ride so that we could get there by 9 or 10 AM in order to hold a street meeting. After we had walked about half way, Elder Hanks suggested we should rest and have our study class there in that beautiful place. We decided to study by ourselves and prepare our sermons. I had decided to talk on the Restoration and was thinking in that direction. We had prayed together and then separated a little way. For some reason I again turned to the story of the first vision, and though I had read it many times before, it seemed as if the words began to glow and the message took on a special significance. My mind opened up and I could see the great Apostasy and the need for the Restoration, the scattering and gathering of Israel. I knew the whole purpose of the Gospel Plan. That day, I received a perfect knowledge and testimony of the Truth by the power and gift of the Holy Ghost. I knew why I was in the mission field. Gratitude and peace filled my heart and I knew the Lord was with me and what I was teaching was right and good. I had a greater love for my God. Spirit had spoken to spirit and the joy of that moment has never been surpassed. The joy that filled my soul was indescribable.

After Elder Hanks went home, I was made senior companion to Elder Snow. We continued our contacts and tried to build up the Branch at Buchannan and in only 6 weeks I had another companion, Darwin W. Johnson. He was young and didn’t quite have the spirit of the work. But that is the way it goes and so we learn to live and to try to help each other. President Grandy came one day and told me to go to Augusta to work with Daryl Wilson, a tall athletic redhead. He was energetic and introduced me to their investigators. We were together only a short time and he was called to Florida to be a District President. But while laboring together we had an outstanding experience. We went to see a sweet lady, Jessie May Kennedy and she invited us in. I felt impressed that she would become a member of the Church so we worked with her and her children. We loved very much and it seemed she wanted to learn, but she had read and studied a great deal, and much of what she believed in were the philosophies of men so it was a struggle for her and for us. She had to unlearn so much—or perhaps I should say she had to replace error with truth and it took time and effort. She taught her children to love the Bible and Jack and Betty were also seeking to learn the truth.

But Elder Wilson left and again I was assigned Elder Johnson. He still had not received a testimony and the work was hard for him and also for me. Then Pres. Grandy sent us to Athens to open up that city to missionary work. It was a college town and rather permissive and the people were rather proud of their learning and although they were friendly, they did not want to discuss religion. Possibly a lot of it was our fault, but we were not very successful. Jack Kennedy hitchhiked to Athens to talk to me and to get some things cleared up that Elder Chessor and his companion could not seem to answer, but we only had a short tome together as it had taken too much time to catch a ride. I’m not sure that he got things cleared but we had a good visit and I loved him for his integrity and strength of determination in his search for truth.

One time when Elder Johnson and I were going on a tour of the country area, we began hitch-hiking. We had 20 miles to go, but stood all day without catching a ride. It was getting late in the afternoon and we had a meeting scheduled than night. So we went to the woods and knelt in prayer. Then we went back to the spot we had held down all day. I asked Elder Johnson to go down the road for a ways and if I caught a ride I would ask them to pick him up also. Shortly, a car slammed on the brakes and backed up to where I stood. “Get in, I am supposed to picky you up for some reason though I never pick up hitch-hikers,” said the driver. He was talking so fast I could hardly get in the request that he pick up my companion. But he did, and then we told him who we were, and where we were going. He told us that was 40 miles out of his way, but that he would take us there and he did, making us a present of a gallon of southern molasses which I kept until I got home. I shall never forget that day when the Lord came to our rescue in such a dramatic answer to our prayer.

Ross Paul was my next companion—a very lovable person, a fine singer and he loved life and worried. One morning about 3:00 AM he got up and asked some odd question and said he was going to the lavatory. He did not come back to bed and I must have fallen asleep for a short time. I became concerned and got up to see what had happened to him, but he was nowhere to be found. I decided he must have wanted to be by himself and had gone for a walk. Six o’clock came and I was getting very worried. Then a call came from the police asking if we knew a fellow by the name of Ross Paul and I told them yes, and they brought him home. He had lost his memory or suffered from a spell of amnesia. His problem grew worse and we placed him in the hospital. The President of the Mission told me as I was the next one to go home that I should get ready to go home and take Elder Paul home. I went back to bid our special friends goodbye. Mother Kennedy, who had been so good to me and given us so many meals, asked for baptism and so I was most happy to baptize her and confirm her a member the following day. The feeling I had about her had been fulfilled and I knew that it had come from the source of light. I was so thankful that she had made the decision. I picked up Elder Paul, who had been taken to the Mission Home and was on my way home almost before I knew it. We traveled to his home in Riverside (three days) but the feeling I got when I saw the Rocky Mountains was really something special. What a beautiful sight! I dearly love my mountain home. After I delivered Ross to his home, I traveled to Los Angeles to see my sister, Ruth, as she was working there. She decided to make a visit home. So I stayed overnight and we went out the Tango ( a ship moored outside the 12 mile limit, because they had gambling on it, and it had to be outside of U.S. Territorial waters) as Ruth had tickets for a free chicken dinner. I was so sea-sick by the time we got there that I could not eat. We went back to Ruth’s, packed our things and went to Riverside. Ross introduced me to one of his girl friends, Elaine Mack, and when she saw us off at the train depot, she put a beautiful red rose in my lapel. I was quite impressed with her.

I only saw her once more at June Conference. She was with me when Lola came to our meeting place at the Seagull Monument. I got out of that predicament by introducing her to Lola as Ross’s girl friend and introducing Lola as Ashel’s cousin.

Back to the trip home—Ruth and I arrived at Lund, 22 miles out in the desert from Cedar City, and traveled in on the stage to Cedar where we were met by Morris Hinton who took us to Hurricane.

We were soon in Hurricane enjoying a wonderful family reunion. How I love my dear family! And so ended the exciting two years in the mission field.

I was home with those I went to school with. I wanted to go to school, and start thinking about a home and family, but first of all I needed a job. Some work I could do, so I began looking but things were still tough in the way of money.

I was called everywhere to talk and report my mission, so I had plenty to do to take care of the adjusting period. I went to Salt Lake to look for work, but I could only job abound and get a little here and there.

I had already decided to ask Lola to meet me in Salt Lake at June Conference. She would continuously pop into my mind. Something was pulling us together and I wanted to meet her as soon as possible. Her letters came more often. She seemed to be all I was looking for.

I rode up to Salt Lake with some friends and we were there in plenty of time. I walked around the grounds a little while, then went to meet Ashel Evans and Lola. I spotted them also going over early. I don’t think I was ever so excited in my life. I wanted to hug them both and maybe I did. I hardly knew what I was doing, except I was glad that we were finally together. I can see her yet, wearing a light blouse and a black and orange skirt, with straps over the shoulders which were black. I loved her, I thin, even then. Each day I liked her better. No doubt the letters and the picture I saw in the mission field brought us together. When I took her home that night I kissed her and she was both shocked and surprised. I didn’t stay around to see if she was going to slap my face or not. I rushed off. It was a little test and she passed. I enjoyed taking her to Cocoanut Grove and to Salt Air, and we had so much fun, I decided to go back to Vernal with her and Ashel. We had parties and picnics and when I left to go back to Hurricane, I hated to leave her, and I suppose I knew then that I loved her. “I was on the ship, and she was on the shore”. Weeks passed and when the loneliness became too great I wrote and asked her to come down to Hurricane for Peach Day. She got her folks talked into bringing her down, but her Dad could not make it and I had not received her letter, so I looked and waited all day for them to come, but they did not arrive. The next day I received her letter telling me they could not come. I decided that if time and distance could make me this miserable that I had better do something about it. So, in the next letter, I asked her to marry me. A proposal my mail is the next best thing to being there! Except that I had to wait so long to get my answer that the suspense nearly killed me. The answer I received was yes, so I hitch-hiked to Vernal again to see her and finalize our wedding plans.

We were married in the St. George Temple Sept. 22nd. That was a happy day, but afterward I was afraid that some of my friends would chivaree us so we got out of the car of the relative who we rode with, and ran through the fields to my home. Lola was tired and nervous and frightened. The following night my parents honored us with a wedding dance in the Church and a nice crowd came and we had many gifts to help us start our new life together.

I still did not have a job and so we went back to Vernal to live with Lola’s parents because Lola did have a job.

We have had our differences, but she has truly been a faithful, loving wife and a good mother to my children.

We soon learned that we were to become parents and I felt sure that it would be most rewarding. Lola was continuously picking out names so not matter what, there would be enough names to go around.

I worked at anything that I could get, to keep from going hungry and to keep Lola from getting too discouraged. I worked at the saw-mill, farmed, did carpenter work, and plastered. You name it and we did it. I was at the saw-mill when Ashel wrote and said that there was an opening in California as a hod-carrier and so we decided that I should go down there to work even though Lola was expecting the baby within a few weeks. I hated to leave her, but I was not getting paid the wages due me at the saw-mill (in fact have never been paid) so I packed my things and got ready to go on the bus. Lola drove me to the bus but she did not want to stay to see me off. I kissed her goodbye and moved toward my seat. She did not want me to see her crying. Many thoughts went through my mind. Why couldn’t I stay to be with her when she needed me most? And I wanted to see our baby so much. But I had to go and that was the way it was.

I stopped in Hurricane to see my family for a short visit, and then on to California. It was beautiful there. I went to work driving truck for Don and White Pearce, they were having quite a lot of trouble with the Unions and we also had lots of rainy weather, so I did not get much work at first and only made about 12 dollars a week. Hardly enough to live on and I was not able to send very much to Lola to help on the Doctor bill. The two months that followed were disastrous. I couldn’t eat or sleep, my ulcer was very bad, and my nerves just about pulled me apart. Finally a letter came saying that we had a baby girl and that he name was Sharon, as we had decided on previously. The letter was written as though Sharon had written it herself. I still have that precious letter.

Each time that Lola wrote she was getting stronger and I could scarcely wait for them to come. I found a little apartment and paid the first month’s rent. I met three busses before her bus arrived, but the sight was something to behold. There in the basket lay our lovely, beautiful baby daughter. How I wanted to hold and cuddle her. We talked some, but Lola cried most of the way home. The trip had been hard for her and she had to take a later bus as the first one was full. She had gotten off in Hurricane to show the baby to my family, and had to wait for another bus in St. George. Then one time she left the baby asleep in her basket on the seat so that she could get off and go to the rest room and was nearly left by the bus driver. This frightened her so much that she would not get off the bus either to eat or drink.

I had been unable to get the electricity turned on in our apartment and of course they were closed over the weekend, so we did not have hot water or lights. I had borrowed Horace Flake’s car to go up to Los Angeles to meet the bus.

After we got settled, things seemed to get smoother, but it was a whole new life and as parents, we had to put the needs of our child before the needs of ourselves and we have been doing so ever since.

About three months later, Horace Flake bought a new home and sold us his for $250.00 down payment. It was a lot for us to manage, but we took in boarders and finally got out of debt.

We saved up and bought our first car, an old 33 Chevrolet with wire spokes in the wheels. We used this for three or four years and it served us well. Wish we still had it—it would be worth quite a bit now as an antique.

California was a worldly place but we were busy in Church and made many wonderful friends. I was called on a stake mission and enjoyed that. We brought a family into the Church and influenced others. We were quite happy there.

Work improved but it was very hard work. I don’t know of any work harder than carrying hod. We got very busy and they were turning out a house a day. We usually worked in large tracts of a hundred or more homes in one section. People were coming into California huge numbers. I was told that 50,000 per day were migrating into the state. There were many things I liked about California. The climate was wonderful and we did enjoy going to the beach. I’ve always been fascinated by the water. Sometimes I’ve wondered why I did not turn out to become a mariner.

One of the main things that I can think of was our first home—bought from Horace Flake on McNerney Street in Lynwood. The whole block was nearly all Mormons and we called it Mormon Row. We were all like a big family.

I was asked to teach the Elder’s Quorum in the South Gate Ward and I really began to enjoy the instructional part of service, though it required much time to study and prepare. I’m sure my testimony increased and my love of the Gospel continued to grow.

I met all kinds of people and I could write volumes about them, but I am going to tell of the one whom I remember and loved most. Bishop Ivan Magnuson—a fair-hearted man and a servant of the people. One day he said, after discussing the return to Jackson County Missouri: “I’d be happy and honored to write you a recommend to the Company going back.” I was very thrilled and began to dedicate my life and service to God in order to make myself worth to receive such a recommend.

One day when I came home my wife, Lola, approached me with a little different philosophy of mind and I found through questioning her that she was expecting another child. So I decided then to step down to place #3 in her circle, but I was rewarded with the sweet love and development of our lovely daughter, Sharon.

One time when she was taken to Vernal to visit the Grandparents, she watched Granddad feeding the chickens and noticed the baby chicks busily scratching away. She said: “Oh, look, the chickens are wiping off their feet.

Truly from the mouths of babes comes forth wisdom. One meal-time Sharon left the table and I thought she had finished eating, so I proceeded to clean up her plate. Then she came back to the table and exclaimed: “Who ate my food all gone?” I sheepishly admitted to the terrible deed and she said: “Well, Dad, ‘pit it out!” I began to laugh, but her little moment of truth came to live with us. We were quite the pals, but I could not get the time I wanted with her. We occasionally took her to the beach. We paid 13 cents per gallon for gasoline and some weeks lived on three dollars worth of food. Now we pay something like sixty dollars per week and a wage of $3.00 per hour. Things have really changed.

That year I was give a Sunday School class to teach and in the course of the assignment, found myself yielding to a plea for a class party to take them to the beach. So we took leave at 5 o’clock and I took them in a borrowed truck to Long Beach. Things went beautifully until about 9 o’clock when we began to pile in and head for home. I noticed a damp, misty atmosphere beginning to move in all around us. As time proceeded, the fog became so thick that vision was almost zero and by the time we had gone the 19 miles between Long Beach and Lynwood, three hours had passed. At one point, I even had to have one of the boys walk in front of me so I wouldn’t run into something. Whew! Some day!

Lola, by this time had passed the time set for her delivery and great concern began to eat at us. We waited—ten months had passed and her discomfort was mounting every day. She went to her doctor and he said that he could not start her labor because the baby was turned wrong, and to wait a week longer. So that night we went to seek a blessing from Bishop Magnusson. I anointed and I knew that she would receive a great blessing. In the course of administering to her, the Bishop promised that things would speedily be right for her. He said: “Your son has been on a special mission for the Lord and he is a very special spirit. He will be with you very soon, and everything will be alright with you.” What a beautiful blessing and we were both shedding tears of joy and a great relief came to us. At four the next morning, Lola’s labor pains began. When she arrived at the hospital the doctor said the baby had turned and everything would be normal. By ten our son was born—over ten pounds and could hold his head up and feet also. The doctor commented that he was surprised that the baby had turned in correct position so quickly, without him having to turn it himself. And so another great testimony was added to our life’s experiences and we thanked God for our new son, Kristen. He was very special, but had impetigo when we brought him home from the hospital, and for a month had to be swabbed with blue or purple medicine. His black hair stood up on his head like quills on a porcupine and with his purple war-pain, he was quite an unusual looking baby, to say the least. He grew rapidly and had a great place in our little family circle, and in our hearts.

Kristen was actively engaged in everything he could reach, constantly exploring his world and keeping us hopping to keep up with him.

One day at the breakfast table he said: “Hey, Did, do you know what I saw behind my eyes last night?” Then he told me his dream.

The Japanese had attacked our Navy and destroyed it, to a great extent. We were at war and I was wanting to help in the war effort. I got a job as Baash-Ross Tool Company and made tracks for the flaps on airplanes. After a while, I began to operate huge 3-ton cranes. I disliked that job with a passion, as I was so afraid that I might drop one of those loads on someone. I remember making a shift of the 200 inch tube which the huge telescope was to fit into which was to be used at the big observatory near Los Angeles—then the largest telescope in the world.

From here, I decided to make my wages do all they could for me, for soon I might be drafted. When I got a chance to go to work for Western Pipe and Steel Company and learn to be a welder, I was getting $2.00 an hour and thought that was good pay. Here we made boilers for ships which were to used to haul fuel to our fighting men.

The war came close to us one night when the air raid sirens went off, the black-out was in effect, and we would see tracer bullets being fired at a tiny spec in the sky as the search lights swept back and forth. We were excited and nervous. The only thing said about it on the news was that there was an unidentified object or airplane over Los Angeles. We never did know the truth of the matter, I don’t believe. But it did accomplish one thing—people were very careful from then on to obey the black-out regulations.

Ever since I had returned from my mission I was plagued with a sharp pain in my stomach and the doctor said I had an ulcer. We did not know if the army would take me regardless, as they were taking anyone who could walk—almost. I was called up and reported at Army Headquarters where they spent three days giving me shots and checking us over. Then one morning the Sergeant said: “Wilson, come into the lab.” So I went in where they told me they had found a big ulcer and were mustering me out. I said, “Already?” and they said: “Yep”. A sickening thud slammed me in the stomach when they said they couldn’t use me. They said: “Go back to your job and help in the war effort in any way you can”.

I was relieved that I didn’t have to leave my little family, but still many others had to. I went back to work for a time but my stomach got worse and worse until I only weighed 125 pounds. The welding fumes working inside those boilers were making me worse and I thought I would die if I did not get out of there. So we sold out and headed for Utah. But there was an error in the termination record and the draft board told me to get back there and go back to work or else.

We went back and bought a trailer house. Nola and Julia came to live near us and help in the war effort. Mother and Dad were on a six-month mission. We were surprised with a visit from Betty Kennedy. It was nice to see her, but I noticed that there had been a change in her feelings toward the Church.

We bought Don Pearce’s home. We decided to move to Utah again for my health. I even began to worry about dying, but when we moved to Vernal, I began to improve. I began to lay brick, and plaster, and work with my father-in-law. LaVell Manwaring and his brothers in the building business. He was the Bishop and I learned to love him very much, along with Ashel and Dee. They were strong and righteous men. We spent many days together and even slept in the same bed when we were away on jobs. W helped build 5 chapels, several schools, as well as homes.

The course of events brought us another son, Terry, one of the sweetest natured children I ever saw. His mother nearly hemorrhaged to death after he was born, and we were terribly concerned. But they were able to stop the blood flow and she began to stabilize. For days afterwards she was slow to think of names and associations. Her doctor was Hansen, but he didn’t seem to realize her condition, so we changed doctors and Dr. Seager was a good doctor and knew her condition at once and began helping her.

I was working out at Rangely at the time and Kris was quite mischievous. He had got into the honey with both hands and strung it all over the house. Lola was too weak and sick to cope with three small children. So I stayed home for a while to help her more and her mother came and helped a lot and so did Laura.

I had been called as MIA Superintendent and Irvin Haws and Orville Merrell were my counselors. Here I learned a great deal about the organization of the Church in the youth program, but I’m sure there were others more qualified. There were so many things that needed attention.

Bishop Ross Merrell had worked hard to get plans underway for the construction of a new chapel. Ashel Evans had been his councilor, but moved out to the BYU to finish his education, so had to be released and I was put in as councilor. We went out to Conference and the Bishop had appointments with the Presiding Bishopric, but he became very ill and had to enter the hospital with kidney stones. I had to go in his place and discuss the building of the chapel with them. We got permission to begin.

The tearing down of the old chapel was set for Monday morning and I was the only one there to assume the responsibility. It nearly pulled me apart to see some of the older brethren of the Ward who had helped to build that old chapel, actually weep as the roof was torn down. They loved that old building in it was a very sentimental circumstance. We worked hard and got the old building torn down in two weeks. Now we were ready to start on the footings for the new building. President Albert G. Goodrich was called to be supervisor and he was a very capable man, though far along in years. We held Church in the Naples school (old school) building for over a year while the construction was in process.

Soon Dee Manwaring was called in as counselor over the building and worked very hard in his job. When the building was finished, President David O. McKay, who was then a member of the first Presidency, dedicated the chapel. What an important and great day that was!

We sold some of our land to Birchell Goodrich and began building the basement of our home. We had outgrown our first small home that I had built. It had been built with the idea of making it into a garage. But our plans changed and we decided to build in a different spot. We moved into the basement before it was finished and rented the little house. Later we traded it for a house in Hurricane, which David bought from us and fixed up into a beautiful home.

We lived in the basement for 5 years before we could get enough money ahead to start building the upper part. But during that time I was able to get a water connection and put in running water and a shower and toilet.

One thing I forgot to mention was that while Lola’s father was Bishop he had put forth great efforts to build up the building fund, but during those hard depression years if was a great sacrifice and effort to raise any money, but he had been able to get a nice sum through the cooperation and dedication of the people of the ward who really loved him.

Now back to my life. I took a job at the Central School doing custodial work one winter while building was almost at a standstill. I took the place of Albert Norton who was ill. Later on, they asked me to work there again when a vacancy arose. This job lasted years. Many things happened here in the way of experience. I learned about the school system and gained many lasting friends in the department.

I went back to building. One thing happened which stands out in memory. Lola was pregnant with Don. I had only been at work about an hour when Lola called Mr. Stagg, the principal, and told him to tell me she was in labor. He came and found me sweeping floors and said: “Get for home. Our wife is going to the hospital.”

Seager was her doctor and we felt that he was the best. As she delivered a very fine baby boy, he looked different from the others. He did not have dark hair nor too much of it. We felt that we were especially blessed with a special spirit, for he had been born because of many prayers offered up that she would be given the strength to carry him safely and have a safe birth, as she had had complication after Terry was born and then two years later had a miscarriage. He was given the name of Don Benjamin—my father’s name as well as my own. He grew to be a very special person with a great sense of humor, a very friendly personality and has contributed much in joy and love in our family circle.

We farmed our land and raised a few animals and milked a cow to help provide our food. One day when the neighbor’s sheep got into our lucerne for the umteenth time, I took Kris with me to help get them out. They would run around and around the haystack. Finally I stood Kris between the fence and the haystack and told him to head the sheep off. As I drove a big ram around the corner, he saw Kris and stopped and looked at me. He decided Kris was the one to tackle and he lowered his head and hit Kris in the chest and knocked him flat and knocked the breath out of him. I was mad and frightened and grabbed a plank and hit the ram on the head. When he got up, he staggered through the hole in the fence and wandered off shaking his head. Six year old Kristen was badly frightened and shaker up, but fortunately the horns had not wounded him and he seemed to get over it soon.

The war had brought a shortage of cars and when we were offered a top price for our Chevy two-door late model car that we had brought from California, we took it and put the money into the building fund for our house. This turned out to be a disappointment for the old car we bought for $150.00 turned out to be a lemon—a real lemon. That car was very hard to start and would balk every time we really needed to go somewhere in a hurry. It was balkier than any horse I ever saw. So life was a struggle of ups and downs and we had to work very hard to keep our head above the water. Many times Lola had to take the water turn and water the pasture and alfalfa and garden and make big dams while I was away working. We had the misfortune to lose the team Dad gave us. One of the horses got shot by hunters, and one got hit by a car when he got out on the highway and had to be put out of his misery and hauled to the mink farm. We bought a small Farm-all Cub tractor to haul our hay, plow and work the garden and each year hired the grain cut and thrashed. From year to year we found our job hard to meat expenses. The winters were cold and many days there wasn’t much to do except work on the house and little by little we were able to put it together.

When Lola went to the hospital with Daryl, things went very fast and he made his debut before the doctor got there while Lola was still in the labor room. He had many of the same features that he others had—a strong, beautiful boy. Each one in their place made our home hum with activity. We named him after his Granddad Manwaring, and he is much like him in spiritual strength and desire to serve the Lord.

By this time the boys were doing the milking and most of the chores. One night while they were out choring, they began throwing mud and clods at each other in a playful mood. Running out of clods of dirt they began using dried manure piles for ammunition. Before too long, Kris got a stick which he used to propel his “ammunition”, and saw a fresh pile of it and as Terry ran around the corner of the shed or peeked around it with his mouth open in a big laugh, he got “it” right in the face and mouth. Terry came in spitting and choking and began washing with all his might. I think they learned their lesson.

One day they went to milk and came in so quickly I got suspicious. They had milked some into the bucket and filled it on up with water. I couldn’t get them to admit it then. Years later they have laughed several times about the watered down milk.

When Daryl was about four, I had finished my chores and was getting ready for work when he came staggering into the kitchen, gasping for breath and turning blue. I ran to him and took him in my arms, and asked the Lord to keep him alive until we could get him to the hospital. We left Sharon to watch the children and ran to the car, and headed for Vernal (about 4 miles) and several times I thought he was going, but I drove as fast as I dared and jumped out and ran up the hospital steps with him in my arms. They took one look at him and began running around getting oxygen and got him in an oxygen tent in a hurry. The doctor rushed in and soon he was getting relief and beginning to breath better. Lola stayed right with him for several days, but no reoccurrence showed up so we took him home. While Lola was in there with him, she had a growing tumor under her ear along the jaw-bone taken out. It was quite large, but was benign. Again we had cause to be especially thankful to the Lord for Daryl’s life and Lola’s health.

A few days before Christmas, when Daryl was 6, he came in and said his eye hurt. He had a red streak underneath the eye so we took him right to the doctor and he thought it was an allergy and gave pills for him to take. Daryl did not complain or fuss much, but slept quite a lot. The day before Christmas we got up and saw that his eye was beginning to bulge out. I took him to Dr. Seager and he gave him a double dose of antibiotic and sent us immediately to a specialist in Salt Lake. We found that infection had set in behind his eye and was swiftly traveling toward his brain. Again we had him administered to, and pled with the Lord to heal him. He was greatly blessed and we knew again how dependent we were on our Heavenly Father.

Another time Daryl was playing on a pipe which crossed the canal. He fell off and hit his face on a rock. For a long time afterward he had a dimple in his cheek to mark the spot where he injured himself.

I had a narrow escape one day when putting in the footings for our house. A cave-in occurred and a lot of dirt came down on my head, pushing my face against the cement. When I dug my way out and got into our little house there was blood and scraped places all over my face. I looked awful for a week. I could have been killed, but again I was protected.

In my early youth I had been thrown from a horse and fractured my arm just above the wrist in two places. While working on a bathroom for a widow, I fell from the rafters and landed on my feet on a cement floor. This jarred my back and put it out of place. A vertebra was out and pressing on the sciatic nerve which went down my leg. I finally got so I could not move and had to rest and take chiropractic treatments. But I have suffered with my back periodically since then and have to be careful what I lift and how I move.

One time I was riding the horse (either Prince or Ribbons) up the lane and he shied and crushed my angle against a fence post. I was laid up with that about 6 weeks and made a peg leg that I could strap onto my knee and walk on my knee to get around. I never did go to the doctor with it. At one of the garages I was plastering a wall. The salesman was out and the office girl was trying to demonstrate a car to a customer and accidentally put it into reverse and backed me against the wall and really hurt my knee. After I got better and the doctor said I could go back to work, I applied for insurance and the Company said that I had gone back to work two days earlier than their disability or accident insurance would pay for. That was the picture of all my dealings with insurance companies. One time I was driving up the highway and a person drove out from the drinking parlor and smacked me in the side of my truck. He was one of the big-shots in town. He said the sun was in his eyes and he did not see me. Well, they hatched it up that I had to be going 5 miles over the speed limit according to the skid marks. So I did not get a dime then either. That is typical of my bouts to collect any insurance. I think if I was walking in a pedestrian zone and got hit by a car going through on a red light and with a traffic cop motioning me to cross, that I could not get a penny’s worth of insurance.

But if I depend on the Lord to help me or protect me or save me from harm, I know I have a sure thing. He is the best insurance on the face of this earth, and if I can just live so as to be counted worth of His blessings I will fear no evil.

We bought a beautiful white colt when the children were getting old enough to ride and we named her Ribbons. She was a spirited horse and could really run—a quarter horse. We were anxious to get her broke to ride so we could enjoy her. I rode her in several parades and she became so spirited that she danced all the way home. She was always full of life. Too much so to please Lola, for she feared her and worried when we were riding her. She had a beautiful white foal sired by Wayne Collier’s palomino. Prince loved people and was one of the smartest horses I have ever seen. We trained him to do tricks and several things which were unique. We could call him from anywhere and he seemed to love to be under the saddle. One day when I was breaking him to ride, I put a hackamore halter on him and forgot to fasten the chin strap. I was putting him through his paces when I pulled the halter right over he head. He sensed the freedom he had just received and thought he would go for a run. I was on him bareback and he was really stretched out when he saw a fence ahead of him and he instantly decided to jump it, but at the last second, made a sharp turn. I went sailing over his head and struck my ankle and leg on the fencepost. I thought I was really hurt, but after a few weeks was up to the old routine.

About this time Sharon was riding Ribbons. We had been watering the field and some water had gotten into the plowed ground. When Ribbons got into the deep mud she started to buck. Then she came to her senses and stopped in her tracks—dead still. Sharon turned a summersault over the horse’s head and landed on her feet in the mud—the most beautiful demonstration of acrobatics I have ever seen and the funniest. Sharon was too scared to think it was funny.

Kristen was now sixteen and had his driver’s license so he traded around with a friend and got an old car without lights, or brakes, and he called it the Bomb and from all I could see it was rightly named. The motor sounded like a thrasher and he nearly got killed in it several time, and finally got so many complaints from his mother that he decided it had to go.

One morning we got up to several inches of snow and Sharon took the car up to Aunt Laura’s and on her way home decided to flip a “Use” and got more of a thrill than she planned—she wound up in the canal. I could tell what she was thinking by studying her tracks in the snow.

One day the boys caught a baby skunk in a gunny-sack and put it in the neighbor’s mailbox so it couldn’t get away. At least that was their excuse—however I suspect that the motive was to get even for some mistreatment they felt they had received from the neighbors.

I should have started this a long time ago. I could write a whole book just on the escapades of the children.

One time I went hunting with the Duvall twins, Orville Merrell and Lynn McKonkie, and we were standing in a circle and one of the fellows said if a person knew how to handle a gun right there would never be an accident. Just as he got through saying that, POW! His gun went off and plowed a furrow between Lynn’s legs and mine. The very next day the same fellow thought he saw the white tail of a deer through the trees and shot at it and it was LaVoir Duvall who had a white handkerchief in his back pocket. The bullet went through the fleshy part of his fanny and miraculously missed the bones and left quite a large wound.

When we were in the first year of our marriage I dreamed a beautiful dream of two lovely girls who were very young coming toward me with their arms outstretched and I felt that they were to be our daughters. But one was dark and one was blond. We were blessed with two blond daughters but I suppose one of our descendants will have to have the dark one.

By the time Valerie and Rick came along the birth had become more or less a routine event. I did not worry so much about everything that came up and we had a chance to enjoy them a lot more, so we did just that. Valerie was premature (or at least came nearly a month before we expected her) and it seemed to make a difference in her disposition. She just couldn’t seem to get adjusted to her new surroundings. She up-chucked all her food, and although she kept enough down to grow on, she sure had a touchy stomach. She continued to spit up a lot until she was a year old. She also cried a lot. Once she got started, you could not get her to stop, but she out-grew that too.

Having four big brothers had quite an influence on her—she tried to keep up with them. One day when she was playing ball (about 4) she got clobbered with the bat and got two front teeth knocked out. I took a long time for them to come back in and probably caused some of the problems which called for an orthodontist to put braces on her teeth to the tune of about $500.00. Maybe that is one of the reasons she was so shy, but I wouldn’t have her any other way. We love her so much and it has been so nice having her in our home. She has been such a good girl and has strong will to resist evil and has such fine standards that can only produce excellence. We expect great things of her. She has been an “A” student and even got an “A plus” in her science. She loves music and is gifted in that line.

We bought a brand new truck with a cab-over camper as a demonstrator, but I found they did not sell very fast at that time, but we enjoyed it very much until I drove under an apple tree and poked a hole in the front.

Lola began to experience morning sickness during this year and we began to plan for one more child with joy for it had been over four years and we had thought we might not be able to have any more. I was sure that this one would be the little dark haired child I had seen in my dream—but no, it was another boy and we did not even have a boy’s name picked out. Rick has been one of the dearest spirits—he is a very special boy. We have been buddies and done tings together that I could not find time to do with the others while they were growing up. I am very thankful for him but must say that each one has been unique in their own special way. I just couldn’t have been more blessed. I have the best children in the world.

Valerie was in her stroller and fell down the basement steps and received a terrible bump on her head. One time when she was about three she walked up to a coral snake without being bitten. At one time we were all on the mountain logging mine props on the ward timber project, when Valerie and Kerri wandered off and got lost. It was dusk and they could not see the road. They called out to Heavenly Father to help them and they then found the road and got back to Sharon.

Rick has had several spiritual experiences that I shall always remember. He was in Hurricane where he got near the spray trick or the neighbors had been spraying insecticides or weed killer—anyway whatever it was choked him up and he could scarcely breathe. We got some consecrated oil and I administered to him. Immediately he went to sleep and had a short nap and when he awoke he was perfectly okay.

We were on our way to Salt Lake and Rick was asleep in the back of the car when he sat up and said: “Dad, we didn’t have prayer before we left.” Then, without any break in his breathing, seemed to fall asleep again. I didn’t think much about it for a minute, then stopped the car and we had our prayer. About ten minutes later we were going up a hill and a lady came over the top and headed right at us, crossing over into our lane. I honked the horn and stayed in my lane, but there was a steep drop on my side and nowhere to go. She woke up and got back into her own lane just in the nick of time. Again the Lord had answered our prayers.

We were leaving to go to Hurricane to a family reunion and I had to stop on the outskirts of town to pick up a spare tire that they were fixing for me at the tire shop. I was gone a while getting it and Lola laid down in the back of the van and went to sleep. Rick got out of the car, and I thought he had climbed in the back with his mother. We got about ten miles and Lola woke up and said: “Where is Rick?” “Isn’t he in the back with you? I queried. Well we turned around and drove as fast as we could and found him at the tire shop. The man there said he had run after us down the middle of the road, crying and calling to us. He was still in tears, although the man went after him and took him back and told him we would soon miss him and come looking for him. He was very unsure of our love for him and it took some time to gain back his confidence and trust.

I went into the stone casting business and did a lot of experimenting. It went over quite well and yet it was soon out of date and being in a cold climate was unable to work at enough to keep it going and make it pay out. Some day we may begin to work at it once more.

I went back to the school for several years as custodian and then we decided to move to Cedar City. I had been painting in oils and enjoyed it so much that I wanted to improve my skills. So we pulled up our roots and headed south.

I had been doing bicycle repair in my spare time so I turned it over to a neighbor and left most of my tools with him, which was a complete loss as I never got a cent and most of the tools were stolen.

We arrived in Cedar City in June, 1967 and I enrolled in college. I took art from Tom Leek along with geology and biology and trying to hold down a full time job at the 7th and 9th Ward Chapel as custodian. I really had my hands full to try to keep up in school. I got under a lot of pressure. Memorization was very difficult for me the tests really were torture.

In the art class I met a lady whom I felt had the blood of Israel in her veins. And as I could have predicted the whole family joined the Church and her son, Danny, went on a mission and did a beautiful job. He got many converts. We feel that we had some influence on them and that we did help to teach them something about the Church. We have remained friends.

At the end of the summer quarter of the second year in school, I was plagued with a stroke and it affected my memory. I decided I’d better be satisfied with what I had and be thankful that I could continue to work and take care of my family. So, since then, I have been taking care of the 3rd and 4th Ward Chapel which is also the 14th Ward, of which we are members. I am struggling to keep ahead of the work, but it is hard with three wards.

One day we decided to go to Lake Powell to try out a boat and motor I had bought. We really had a wonderful time and were out on the lake when a strong wind came up and we decided to head for shore, but the pin sheared off the motor and we were trying to row against the wind. Don and his brother-in-law, both very strong, were rowing with all their might, but could make no head way and the waves were getting bigger and wind more intense. We almost got swamped and were all pretty scared. The shore toward which we were being blown was sheer rock walls. Bruce stood up and began waving his arms and a big house boat saw us and came and towed us into shore. The name on the big boat was “Mother” and we though what an appropriate name that was.

I bought another boat from John Leibhardt, but the motor went out on it the first time we used it at Lake Powell and we were all disappointed on that trip that we did not get to use it. I bought a small motor for it and have used it for fish and in has turned out to be a nice little boat and we really have fun in it.

I decided to build a pontoon boat and put it on the Blue Goose, the first homemade boat we bought. I have worked a lot of hours on it and I will soon take it to the launching pad and give it its final christening. We expect to have much fun with it on this family reunion.

We bought a home a year after we came to Cedar, just across the street from the Church and so I am pretty close to work. We love it here, but find much to be desired in many respects. Lola wants to return to Vernal and I want to go farther south. I’ve shoveled all the snow I care to, when there’s better ways of handling it, like going where it doesn’t snow.

Janice, our daughter-in-law came down with a very high fever and got really sick at a family reunion in Hurricane. She wanted to be administered to, so we knelt in prayer before the administration took place. David Ruesch anointed and I sealed, and when I began to speak and laid my hands upon her head, the powers of the priesthood surged through me until I could hardly stand. I knew at that moment that she would be healed. Later she went to the doctor and he said she had had a very bad case of strep throat, but that she was over it. This was a great testimony to me of the powers of the Holy Priesthood.

We have been blessed very much in our home, far beyond our right to expect. But we have tried to live good lives and pay an honest tithing unto the Lord and do many things to assure our Heavenly reward, but it seems like the Evil One is always ready to test us. He never takes a vacation.

May the Lord bless this wonderful family in all we do in the spirit of righteousness and may he lead us unto the truth of all things, and may this family be united in the glories of this world forever, even after it is celestialized. May we have love and unity in our hearts toward each family member and may we all be together throughout all eternity.

This may be added to at a later time as the course of events weave their patterns into our lives.

To all of you I give my love. Your father and grandfather, B. Vere Wilson

An addendum written by Kristen Vere Wilson, Vere’s oldest son.

Mom and Dad lived in Cedar City for several more years until after Dad retired. He went back into the artificial stone making effort and worked in that long hours each day. They went each week to the St. George temple for years. They worked as missionaries in the Cedar City LDS Employment office for a couple of years and they were also called on a mission and served in Kentucky for 18 months. I believe Mom tells more about that in her autobiography.

Upon their return home from the mission field we (their children) became very concerned about a potential fall down the stairs in their home as mother had to make many trips up and down those stairs each week to do the laundry. Since Sharon, Daryl, and I, all lived in Vernal, we hoped that we could get them to move here in their final years so that we could watch over them a little closer. Dad wouldn’t agree because he wanted to move to Hurricane where it was warm and they could more regularly attend the temple.

After the announcement that the old Uintah Stake Tabernacle building was to be converted into a temple, Dad finally agreed to move to Vernal. So at the chosen time, all the kids and kids in law gathered there with trucks, trailers, etc. to move them to Vernal. It was a difficult time for Dad because it meant such a sacrifice to him to leave his beloved home country of Southern Utah, as well as to give up on many of his dreams which included the development of the artificial stone business. I believe that in many ways we broke his heart and spirit.

We found a small home for them with only a couple of stairs and a very large outbuilding in which dad could putter away at his inventions. Mother was in 7th heaven, coming back to her childhood home and Dad was hurting in his soul. In time he felt better about the move and very quickly they were involved in temple work, particularly in the baptistery. They were asked to teach a primary class and did for several years. The kids loved them and loved to push Dad around in his wheel chair. The kids always had a hug for Mom and Dad.

Father became quite crippled but otherwise remained fairly healthy until the time of his death. Those of us that lived here did check up on them daily and each of us had our chores to do. Sharon’s job was house cleaning and toenails, Daryl’s was physical facilities and repair, mine was check writing and bill paying. Mother wouldn’t let us cross over into each other’s assigned territory.

Father sickened and died 9 Jan 2001, after only a few hours of deep illness. The family sang hymns to him and were with him until he passed away. His last words, as far as I know, were: “I love you too, Lola” after Mom told him she loved him. He was such a gentle man and everyone loved him.

Mother lived alone then for a little more than a year and was killed, along with her daughter and our sister, Sharon, in a car accident. This happened 13 Mar 2002. She wore a pacemaker for her heart for a few years but otherwise her health was good until the day of her death.

We, like Nephi were born of goodly parents. We have been blessed all of our lives because of their goodness. We look forward to seeing them, just not yet.