Personal History of Janet Elaine Weech Sorensen, Part 1

Darrin & Andrea Lythgoe's Genealogy Pages

November, 1979 Age 56

I didn't know either of my grandfathers. From what I have learned, they were both rather stern men, devoted to their families, and strong in their faith in the gospel. Both had immigrated to this country, Grandpa Weech as a boy and Grandpa Jensen as a young man all alone. Grandpa Weech's parents had joined the church in England and brought their family by ship to New Orleans and then up the river to Alton, Illinois, where they settled to earn enough money to take them across the plains. My great grandfather Weech died there so it must have been an enormous task for the family to eventually continue their journey and arrive here in Zion. I'm sure Grandpa was called upon to do many difficult tasks while still a young boy. Grandpa Jensen came when he was a little older, but all alone. I don't know much about his, but he, too must have had a very difficult early life. I'm grateful to them for the sacrifices they made which have benefited me so much.

I remember my grandmother Weech coning to visit us only once, though there are pictures of her with me when I was about six or seven and I think she also cane when Roy died when I was twelve. She, too, seemed very stern to me in her old-fashioned long dress with high neck and long sleeves. It must have been difficult for her to have her children scattered all over the west and not be able to see them. I don't remember that my father ever had the opportunity to go to Arizona to visit her except when Grandpa Weech died and again for her funeral. We were poor and people just didn't travel then like they do now.

Grandma Weech was also an immigrant to this country for the gospel's sake. She too came as a young girl with her parents and even after she and Grandpa were married and settled in Goshen, Utah (in a one-room cabin in which six or seven people lived) she had to pioneer again and settle the Gila Valley in Arizona. They were two of the original settlers of Pima, Arizona. With the only water a distance from the house, fifteen children to take care of, and the extremely hot climate, you can imagine the difficulties she endured.

Grandma Jensen was the only grandparent I knew. She lived with us from the time I was born in Mt. Pleasant until she died when I was eight years old. From the time I can remember, she seemed very old to me and quite feeble. She always wore her skirts to the floor and a lovely, long, full-length apron over a nice dress. She liked lavender and I remember her in a black, probably taffeta dress for best, a pale lavender dress printed with tiny flowers, and a pale green print also with tiny flowers. In those date we wore one-piece long underwear with long legs to keep us warm in winter. I remember mine had "drop" seats that had to be buttoned in the back. Before I remember much else, I remember her buttoning the seat to my underwear as I'd come and stand before her after every time I went to the bathroom. I also remember her sitting at the kitchen table on the chair which I still have. She was almost always sitting there because it was so uncomfortable for her to walk or stand. She had a tremendous limp, actually dragged one foot. I don't know why. I remember talk of her having had Rocky Mountain spotted fever from a tick bite, but I don't know if that could have caused it. She obviously wasn't well at all, but she did all she could to help around the house with the family. I have a mental picture of her making pie crusts and holding the pie in the air as she cut around the edges of the pie plate. I also see her seated in that chair wiping the dishes which my mother had placed before her in a large dish pan. When the silverware and pans were dry, I would often put them away in their places for her.

I remember that she loved to go for rides in the car and my father was anxious to give her that little pleasure. I don't remember that she went to Church with us, but I could be mistaken there. She probably was not well enough to go often. I remember what a great effort it was for one time when my parents took her downtown to Auerbach's Department store to buy a new dress. I think that my mother or perhaps Grandma, herself, made all but her best dress. I remember vaguely pedaling the sewing machine for her on occasion. Perhaps that experiment didn't work too well.

I loved Grandma Jensen! She was the sweetest lady--truly a lady in every sense of the word. She had thin white hair which was fixed becomingly in soft waves around her face and pulled into a knot on the top back of her head. She wore glasses. She liked to read. She drank tea, which I avoided sampling, but I feel that it was mostly for medicinal purposes because I don't remember her drinking it constantly. She also liked "sop" which she made by melting butter, adding water, salt, parsley and perhaps other things when she desired. This she would eat with homemade bread broken into it. I liked it too and often had some with her. She spoke English perfectly and I rarely heard her speak her native tongue, though her mother never learned to speak English. She did teach us some of the simple words for such things as knife, fork, spoon, etc. How I wish that I had had her teach me Norwegian! There was one phrase which became very common in our house and I don't know how. It was "sista pira oot" (spelling?) which I understood was the name of a game and meant "last couple out'. Somehow this became a loving nickname for me and my family sometimes called me, the only girl in the family, "Sister Piroot!"

I also felt loved by Grandma Jensen. She was always kind and good to us as children--patient, helpfu1. She needed quite a bit of help from my mother (she had to help her take a bath, etc.) but she tried to make up for it by he1ping us children and by doing anything that she could to help sitting down. I remember how sad we were when Grandma was sick. She didn't seem to be right down an awful lot, as I remember it now, but she did finally get pneumonia. It was winter and I remember that she wanted the window open in the front bedroom which was her room, because she felt she couldn't breathe. Then she went into a coma and the doctor came. We had an old coal furnace at the time and I remember dad putting the big lumps of coal in the furnace while she was sleeping. We were so conscious of the noise it made and were afraid it would wake Grandma. We all knew she was going to die and we wanted it to be easy for her; we wanted her to sleep away. She did just that and one morning dad woke me early to tell me that Grandma Jensen had died during the night. I'm crying now remembering it because I loved her. She was part of my life until I was eight years old. I wish I could be as good a grandmother to my grandchildren as she was to me. I see her now--tall, thin, regal, and kind. And I shall be so happy to see her in the life to come!

From the time my parents moved into the little white house in Mt. Pleasant where I was born, with Grandma Jensen, I think they and grandma pooled their finances in order to live. Grandma had worked as a seamstress and milliner all of her widowed years, but what little money she had been able to save was lost when her bank failed during the difficult years following the 1929 crash. She also had a small pension from Grandpa Jensen's work (or the Blackhawk War?) which she used to support herself and help my parents when they needed it. I don't ever remember hearing her quarrel with my parents. I believe they lived together in love.

I was born in a little white frame house in Mt. Pleasant, Utah. It was located nearly on the corner, one block west of State Street and about three blocks south of Main Street, on the east side of the street. I don't remember anything there because when I was four months old my parents moved to Salt lake City and rented a house for a few months until they bought the house at 662 Browning Avenue. It was my home until I was married and even for brief periods after we were married. I still love that home.

My parents had moved to Salt lake City because the drug store, which my father had bought as a pharmacy graduate at the age of 21, had failed and he was without work. Dad felt that the reason for that was because he had bought too much dead stock which wouldn't sell and always wished that he had been better advised in the purchase. I'm sure it was not because he didn't work hard or wasn't well-liked because for years afterward as I visited Mt. Pleasant to stay with their friends as a young girl, I heard about what a great guy my dad was, how everyone loved him, how the young people used to gather at the drug store, what a great dancer he was, etc. He seemed to have a place in everyone's heart in Mt. Pleasant and when I would walk down the street, I could hear the men on the corners whisper, "That's Bob Weech's daughter." I was always proud to be his daughter.

The ensuing years were difficult for my parents, but I had a very happy childhood! We didn't have much money, but we were never hungry, we had a comfortable home, and parents who loved us and taught us the gospel and how to live. I'm grateful for the hard times because they taught me the value of money, how to be thrifty, and that material things are unimportant--values which have helped me all of my life.

My father was a great man! I hope that I am somewhat like him. I suppose his most impressive quality was his knowledge of and his great devotion to the gospel of Jesus Christ. He loved to study the scriptures and would do it for hours on end, especially toward the end of his life. He taught many classes and was recognized in the stake as quite an authority on the scriptures. He often wrote to Joseph Fielding Smith or one of the other General Authorities for answers to questions that were bothering him. He seemed to know many details of the pre-existence and the life after death. But most important to me, he could answer any question that I brought to him and show me the scriptures to back up his answer. I remember coming home from mutual and standing in front of the heater in the dining room to get warn, while he studied at the dining room table. Often there had been some point brought out with which I could not agree and I would sometimes sneeringly tell my dad that I didn't believe this or that. He would calmly and patiently explain to me and teach me and use the scriptures to convince me and I would find myself later defending the very truths which I had doubted. I'm so grateful to him for this great quality that he had and for his influence on my life in this regard.

My dad also was a lot of fun! He loved music, and dancing and singing. He played the piano by ear (could also read music) and encouraged Roy and I who seemed to have some of the same talent. I remember him sitting on the little round piano stool that moved up or down according to how tall you were, in front of our big upright piano. There he plucked out the popular tunes of the day and, more often, the popular tunes from when he was young. They always were lively and happy tunes and occasionally he would sing along with them. He had purchased (earlier than I can remember) those impressive big green books of piano music--enough to last me a lifetime--and would often choose the book entitled "Dance Music," from which to play a Strause Waltz or perhaps a Souza march. Sometimes he would choose the volume of "Familiar Songs" with words to them and we would gather round to sing "Oh, Suzannah" or "Old Folks at Home" or "Father Dear Father Come Home to Me Now." The latter was an old drinking song, or perhaps a drinking man's family's song. In it the family pled with the drunken man to come horns and then listed all the tragedies that were happening in the family because he would not. We children loved that song and took it so seriously that there were often tears shed as we sang it. As we grew up a little, I remember us singing it alone on the floor of the living room with the big green book spread out before us. Perhaps we laughed at the lyrics a little then, but we still sang it and still loved it until the page became so worn that it tore loose from the book and was lost.

I remember dancing with my father at Lagoon when I was very young. I was proud to be dancing at such a tender age and proud to be dancing with my father who was a good dancer. Perhaps it was the same night that Grant and I were encouraged to dance together and were conscious of the many eyes who were watching this little brother and sister duo on the dance floor. I loved it from the beginning. I remember dancing with my father at ward parties and dances, not often or more than one dance, but enough to make me feel important. And I remember dancing with him at the Casino on Catalina Island when I was 17 or 18 years old. By then I considered myself a good, experienced dancer, but I was surprised at how graceful my dad was and how lightly he danced even though he was a heavy man and had a tummy that made dancing close to him impossible. Perhaps I inherited some of my love for music, dancing and singing from my father.

Dad was always on committees for parties. He planned and executed choir parties, high priests' parties. Seventies' parties, and many others. No task of this sort was ever too big for him to take on. Perhaps one of the most rewarding get-togethers that he was in charge of was his Weech Family Reunion in Salt Lake City in 1947. He planned for that for months and at far as I could see it was well-planned and went off without a hitch. Many of his relatives came from all over the west to attend and it was the only time that I saw some of my aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Dad loved children and was very good with them. From him we interited The "My old horse goes imble amble" which is loved by grandchildren today. He was so proud of Marti, Kathy, Craig, and Lynn and would have been proud of all of you. He knew what a blessing children are and spoke of them as "jewels in your crown in heaven." I only wish he could have lived longer to know my children and my children's children, but I know that he will some day and will be pleased with them. Dad often tended for me when it was necessary. When we lived in Uncle Merrill's house just after coming out of the service and didn't have a car, once a week he would drive up Sunnyside Avenue and let me use his car to go to the grocery store while he stayed with Marti and Kathy who were just tiny. He seemed to enjoy it, and I certainly enjoyed the opportunity to get away from the house and do my grocery shopping. When Lynn was in Texas in Navigation School, I needed to buy a car to join him and dad helped me look. It gas during the war and cars were very scarce and we wouldn't find one that dad thought would hold up for me, even for the trip, so he insisted that I borrow his car, at a very small mileage rate, and take it to Texas. This I did and he and mother rode the bus wherever they went for four months until Lynn was commissioned. This is typical of his generosity.

Dad laughed a lot and was very affectionate and could fix anything in the house. We never had to have a repair man come because he seemed to know instinctively how to fix all appliances, plumbing, wiring, or anything else that needed fixing. In addition he was very good working with wood and later made skis for such professional skiers as Alf Engen and others. He seemed to love working with his hands. During the war years, after having such a difficult time during the depression years, he worked one full shift as a pharmacist (for very low wages) and then, because of his knowledge of chemistry, was hired in the plating division of the Remington Arms plant, where he worked another full shift. This combined with his weight and tendency toward high blood pressure began to tell on his heart and he took medication, refused to diet for a while, and had to generally be careful. He grew gradually worse until he had to quit working at all and tried to continue to make a living with his ski business at home. Then he had to have an oxygen tank in the house and one night, after we were in our own home and when Lynn was a small baby, he had a very serious heart attack and was not expected to live through the night. He lived long enough in the hospital for me to tell him how much I loved him and after a few days was thought to be getting, better. He was anxious to come home and the doctor told him on Thanksgiving that he could probably go home on Saturday. Saturday morning he joked with the nurse who carne in early and seemed to feel good, but when she returned a short time later, he was dead. He had gone quietly with another attack. He was only 57, but I think he must have been happier to go than to stay because he had so many frustrations and set-backs in this life. I'm looking forward to seeing him happy and carefree, enjoying the good things of life someday, like he once was.

I was blessed to have a very good, devoted mother. One of the nicest things I remember about her as a child is that she was always there, in the home, waiting for me to come and tell her the happenings of my life, or comfort me when I needed it. I can still smell the aroma of freshly baked bread and homemade soup as it greeted me when I opened the back door, coming in out of the cold. I can still see her cleaning herself up about three o'clock in the afternoon so that she would be fresh and clean when "papa" came home-or even if he was on a late shift at the drug store and wouldn't be home. She put up hundreds of quarts of fruit each summer, and grew a beautiful flower garden, but she still had time to do her Relief Society work, which was considerable. She and dad and Monsens, Youngs, and Clowards enjoyed playing "500" with cards a couple of times a month and a simple lunch or refreshments would be served, but there was never money to go out to dinner and rarely to a show. A 5 cent A&W Root Beer was a big treat.

Mother was a quiet, calm person who didn't "blow up" like the rest of us did, following in papa's footsteps, but she could sulk and be depressed and considering the trials they lived through, she was entitled to. She loved beautiful plants and flowers and had a way with them. Her roses that grew on the south side of the house were especially beautiful. She loved to have me comb and brush her hair and I enjoyed doing it. Then she would cuddle me on her lap while she read the evening news and I knew that I was loved. The house was always clean and seldom cluttered and the ironing was kept up to date even though there might be fifteen shirts to iron. She had few of the luxuries of life, but willingly shared what she had. She had a talent for writing and beautiful penmanship and an intelligent, inquisitive mind. She was my disciplinarian and teacher and guided me through the happy years of my childhood. I thought I had the best mother in the world and loved her very much.

I was taught by both of my parents to be responsible, industrious, thrifty, expressive, completely honest, and guided by the principles of the gospel. What a beautiful heritage is mine!

My first memories are tied in with my family. My parents first three children were boys. Then there was a space of 4 1/2 years before I was born. I think everyone was happy that I was a girl and they made me feel loved and wanted from the beginning. I remember my big brothers, with Roy as the chief engineer, building neat things for us to play on-like the merry-go-round made from a post and a plank up in the field, or the car fashioned from lumber scraps and a old baby-buggy tires. I remember breaking my arm when I was three years old up the street at the neighbors. We were playing "statues" and someone threw me a little hard and I fell the wrong way and couldn't get up. "You big baby," the kids kept saying. "Get up!" and I kept saying, "I can't get up. Help me!" They refused to help me, thinking I was faking it, but when I asked them to go get my big brother, they went and came back with Roy who carried me home in his arms to loving parents who believed me. I remember the trips on the street-car to the doctor and the distinction of having a real broken arm in a sling.

I don't remember having whooping cough when I was small, but they tell me that I was very, very sick and was healed through the power of the priesthood. I ran around saying that Brother Tanner made me well, while "papa" tried to explain that it was Heavenly Father who made me well.

I remember one of my first days in kindergarten and Fanny Miles who was my teacher. As we were lining up to leave when the bell rang, she asked if we had forgotten any of our belongings. I panicked because I had brought a handkerchief and I didn't know where it was. Mrs. Miles and the whole class searched for that handkerchief and finally found it--right in my hand. It was my first embarrassing moment and an indication of the shyness and insecurity which I always felt in school. When I was in third grade and doing well, even overcoming some of that insecurity, I really loved school and thought it was easy. In fact, I spent much of my time with my head on my arms on the desk because that was what we had to do when we were finished with our work. I didn't mind, though, because a cute boy, Raymond Gunn, finished early too and we would lie there and look at each other and sometimes make faces. I guess the teacher thought I was unhappy, though, because she told my parents that Janet should have a special promotion so when my third grade year was half over, I was promoted to fourth grade, which was also half over and that ended my security again for a while. I soon found that my classmates knew things I had never heard of and I was too shy to ask about. I had to develop a whole new set of friends and somehow was not quite accepted anymore by my old friends who were my age or older.

I loved summer! There was so much fun to be had in the neighborhood. There were not many girls, but lots of boys and I got to be the princess while they were the pirates or the heroine while they were the cops and robbers. At night we played kick-the-can or run-sheepy-run or hide-and-go-seek with everyone from five to fourteen joining in. In the daytime we hid in the lucerne fields on the vacant lots, or roller-skated down the sidewalks. In summer we swam in the Liberty Park pool or played games on the lawns or on the swings. In winter we ran with our sleds on the snow covered street and hiked up to Harrison Avenue and 13th East so that we could coast down the steep hill which was reserved for sleigh-riding. Usually I was in the company of my older brothers and sometimes they would even let me use their ice skates--padded with everything from newspapers to heavy woolen socks. They didn't ever fit and I could never get my ankles off the ice.

The people who lived next door to us made candy boxes in the evening in their home to earn some extra money. They were fancy boxes covered with foil papers and beautiful prints and the scraps were very enticing to the whole neighborhood. Someone came up with the idea that they could be used for play money and so a system was invented that was used in the neighborhood for years until the neighbors no longer made candy boxes. The scraps were all cut to a uniform size and each distinctive pattern was a different denomination of currency. Most of our play activities involved this play money. We had hotels, with quilts spread on the lawn for beds, restaurants, serving lemonade and cookies, and an innocent gambling game of "21" or "rummy" going on in the back lawn under the trees most of the summer days. Valued possessions like pocket knives or marbles were bought and sold for play money and it was used so much that I can still see the gold foil paper with the bright red cherries that we used for a $5 bill. We thought we were very lucky to have such a system in our neighborhood and, indeed, boys and girls from other neighborhoods were always trying to get into the act, but could seldom get enough paper money to compete.

By the time I was in sixth grade I had gained some confidence again and since our class was composed of the same students in seventh grade also, we formed quite a bond and began to really enjoy each other. There were parties for birthdays, and parties for Halloween and parties for Christmas. One year I was invited to five Halloween parties and got the chicken-pox so I couldn't even go to one. At least when you got a communicable disease, everyone knew it and felt sorry for you, for you were quarantined by the City Board of Health and they came out to the house, said yes, you had it and put a big sign in the window. If it was whooping-cough or scarlet-fever, even the father couldn't go in and out and your bed clothes had to be burned after the six-week quarantine was over--though I suspect some people just boiled them instead. They were just beginning immunizations in school and a note was sent home asking the parents for permission to immunize. My parents asked me if I wanted it and I said "no." So I was not immunized. Fortunately I had had whooping cough and didn't encounter scarlet fever or diptheria or the deadly smallpox, which was not as common as it had been. Instead I had chicken-pox and tonsilitis, and German measles and tonsilitis, and Mumps and tonsilitis, but was usually a very healthy, happy girl.

During all this time I guess we were poor. The big stock market crash had come in 1929 when I was six and the great depression followed. After selling pianos and working in pharmacies and numerous other things, dad had gone into business for himself selling two new inventions that were sure to sweep the country by storm: radios and refrigerators. He had a little store on Ninth South and Ninth East, across from the Tower Theater, and was doing especially well. We had enjoyed one of the earliest crystal set radios in our home and I can remember listening to Santa Claus on it and having the neighbors come over to hear some big prize fight. We knew that soon every one would have one of the new console models in their homes. However, when the hard times came, radios and refrigerators, being still luxuries rather than necessities, were the first things that people quit buying. Dad couldn't even collect for the ones he had already sold and his promising business collapsed completely. How difficult that must have been for him! No one was hiring. Everyone was laying off people. To get another job was hopeless!

But my father was ambitious and enterprising. He approached a local dairy which was manufacturing "cottage" cheese, a new name for the Dutch cheese which had had to be made in the homes up till that point. He offered to take their cartons of cheese out on consignment for a small percentage of the profits and peddle them door to door. Because his service was so good and the cheese always so fresh, he worked up quite a business and my older brothers joined in to try to make enough money to keep food in the house. Even I accompanied Grant on his route sometimes, helping him carry the basket of cartons of cheese, knocking on doors, finding our way on the icy sidewalks, hoping to get horns only half frozen before it was completely dark. To me it was an adventure; to my brothers, it was difficult and tiring work which must be done every day after school,

Later he got a job driving the social workers around the city and state and eventually his degree in pharmacy served him well and he was back in the drug stores again. Through this extremely difficult period for my parents, we were never hungry or lacked any of the necessities of life. There were sad moments when my brothers didn't have 50 cents to go on a date, or when we didn't have a Christmas tree until some kind person surprised us with one on the front porch. "Make it do or do without" was our slogan and hand-me-downs were altered and remade by mother until I grew to dislike homemade clothes. Even though there was never a nickel for an ice cream cone or 2 cents for a candy bar, even in high school, I breezed through it all, unconscious of the mental sufferings of my parents, and happy with my fate--because most of my friends were in the same situation.

When I was 11 years old and in 7th grade, on March 31, 1935, my brother Roy and a friend took his pontoon sailboat which he had ingeniously made out to the Great Salt Lake to go sailing--and never came back. I idolized Roy. He was ten years older than I and always seemed grown to me. He was the one who encouraged me to play the piano by ear. He had a tremendous interest in electronics--practically a new field at the time. He himself constructed microphones, public address systems, electric pinball machines, and other things new to the world. He ran the projector at the Tower Theater and at the ward shows. He, too, could fix anything and make almost anything. He was always good to me and having had all these accomplishments by the tender age of 21, I thought he was marvelous. For a while he had portable movie projectors which he hauled around to the schools in the city to show motion pictures--None of the schools had their own machines at that time. He also contracted with the Parks department to show movies at the park sometimes. Often the huge, awkward machines sat in our basement in between jobs. Then he would tell us to invite our friends in and we all sat on the stairs while he showed a film for us on a bed sheet in the basement. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world to have such a talented big brother. And then he was gone. The summer before we had all had turns sailing on the small pontoon sailboat which he had made and we knew that it was perfectly safe, so when he didn't return that evening, dad thought something must have happened to the car (he had borrowed dad's car). A short while before Merrill, my other brother, had borrowed the car and gone swimming in the lake only to find the car sunk deep into the sand when he returned. Dad thought this must have happened again and that Roy would get help and be back late. Without a car he waited until after 1:00 a.m. and then called Roy's other friend and asked if he would take Merrill and him out to the lake to see what the problem was. They found the car but there was no sign of Roy and Glen and the boat.

The sheriff was called and the search began. Merrill remembers well watching the lake all night long and walking its shore trying to find some hint as to what might have happened. At dawn a plane began the search from the air, but there was no trace of the two young men, until Roy's body, and the boat, were found southwest of Blackrock. He had not drowned but died of strangulation from the salt.

Dad had all kinds of theories as to what could have happened. Glen's body wasn't found for another day and then he was pinned to a rock under the surface. Dad speculated that perhaps Glen had been knocked off the boat by the swing of the boom and been pinned under the water and Roy had tried to rescue him. There had been no storm on the shore of the lake that day and so one theory was as good as another.

My parents were heartbroken and, although I grieved for my brother and missed him, the hardest thing for me was to see my parents suffer so. All the rest of my growing up years I don't think they missed many Sundays going out to the cemetery to visit Roy's grave and I often heard my father express the greatest desire of his heart--that Roy might be permitted to come back and tell them what had happened. I guess they know now.

I remember my close friends Ruby Trayner and Jean Monsen coming over to the house to comfort me. They are still my close friends. I remember the day I went back to school. The accident had been widely covered in the newspapers and no one had escaped the headlines. I felt very self-conscious, but no one said anything until my geography teacher came and sat by me at my desk, put her arm around me and told me how sorry she was. I loved her for that.

The happy days far outnumbered the sad ones in my early years. I attended Sunday School and Primary and later Junior Seminary at the ward. I had birthday parties--often with two other friends in the ward who were the same age and born on the same day. Occasiona1ly the family went to Rupert, Idaho to visit Aunt Emma and Uncle Chart and our cousins, who lived on a farm there. It was the only vacation I knew until after Roy died when mom and dad spent some of the insurance money to take us to the Grand Canyon. We did go over-night camping a few times with morn and dad's friends and their families--which brought Jean and I even closer. We had a dog, Mickey, a little fox terrier whom we loved, until someone poisoned him. The boys had a paper route and a bicycle which I could ride if I was very careful. I took piano lessons from a lady in the ward from the time I was 7 until I was 11 and when the folks couldn't pay for the lessons anymore, she continued to teach me for free, for which I will be eternally grateful to Sister Slack. She had to tell my parents not to let anyone play my pieces for me first, because then I could pick out the melody by ear and get lazy about learning to read the music. I'm still that way! I attended Hawthorne School on 17th South and 7th East street and Waterloo ward and always walked to both. I liked playing with boys better than girls--though was never brave enough to be a tomboy. I loved paper dolls and made houses for them from old boxes and furniture cut from catalogues. I slept in my parents' bedroom in a crib until long past the usual age. Then I slept on a studio couch in the dining room until I was 17 years old and my brothers left home. I never felt deprived because of this, however. I helped my mother by dusting the furniture and hardwood floors, wiping the dishes, etc. Later I mopped all the linoleum floors and the back stairs regularly.

In winter, during the depression years, dad put a monkey stove (small coal-burning) in the kitchen and turned off the furnace. We literally lived in our nice big kitchen. All the other doors were shut arid that was the only heated room in the house. When we took a bath in the bathtub we used an electric heater to warm the room a little. And boiling hot water from the stove to warm the cold water. It all seemed natural to me, and the only bad part I remember was running from the bedroom to the kitchen to get dressed in the morning. We had much more snow and ice during those winters and less salt to fight it so the streets were ice-covered through most of the winters, which made for great sleigh-riding and ice-skating. I even remember hearing the bobsleds go by with their bells tinkling on a winter evening--and the lions roar from Liberty Park just before they were fed on a summer afternoon.

When I was 12 I went to South Junior High School--which was later changed to Lincoln Junior High. It was a difficult time for me. I had always been able to keep up academically, but now most of my friends from Hawthorne went to a different school and I was nearly two years younger than most of my new acquaintances. I was very shy and very afraid. Most of the girls were really interested in boys by then--not just as friends as I had always been, but as "boyfriends" and I was not ready for that. I froze every time I talked to one (or should have talked). Nevertheless, there were some who liked me. A cute little Greek boy and George something-or-other, neither of whom I could stand. The boys in the ward were easier to take and I even got invited to South's Lagoon Day by one of them, but every contact of that sort was painful for me.

I got my first job while I was in Junior High. I tended a girl about five years younger than I after school while her mother worked. She was an only child, but not difficult and I had time to read some, which was beginning to be my favorite thing to do. I also helped with the housework and tended on Saturdays, but it became difficult when the lady insisted that I wash her lovely work clothes and iron them. The first mistake I made was to leave one dampened (in plain sight for her to see) and it got mildew. The job kind of tapered off after that. It had provided me with some very scarce spending money and contributed some toward new clothes for high school.

South High School was only five years old when I went there in 1937. Its huge long halls and many classrooms must have been awesome to me because for years afterward I dreamed that I was in those halls looking for my classroom. I took a business course which included type, shorthand, bookkeeping, English, Phys. Ed., and all the Foods and Nutrition classes I could get. I would have liked to have taken drama and choir, but was too bashful to try out. This is not to say that I had a miserable time that first year in high school, but it could have been better and the second year I was determined to make it better. When the boys and girls came up to talk to me, I forced myself to be outgoing and fun and succeeded in changing my personality quite a bit. My senior year was really a fun year!

I attended early morning seminary at South every day, but didn't get nearly as much from it as I should have. Their program was not nearly as good in those days and we didn't take it very seriously. Nevertheless I did learn some and graduated from seminary.

I began to date quite regularly when I was fifteen years old and enjoyed going to all the school dances, basketball games, and other activities. Among my friends were some non-Mormons and I had the usual temptations with them and with others. I know what it is to be sorely tempted and I sympathize with my children and grandchildren when they go through these trials.

My grades in high school were mostly A's and B's and I enjoyed my studies for the most part, except perhaps gym. I was never athletically inclined though I played a little basketball and enjoyed the dancing that we did. For the most part, I played a great game of ping-pong and whatever else I had to. I still managed to get an A from the class and when I had the nerve to ask the teacher why, she said it was because she knew she could count on me to do whatever she asked me to do. True. I ran errands for her, organized groups, practiced dance (modern and otherwise) enthusiastically and tried to look happy playing field hockey!

I certainly was not inactive, though. I loved hiking, dancing, eating, talking, and riding around in cars--not to mention boys.

I graduated from high school when I was just fifteen and didn't turn sixteen until nearly two months later. Up to that time the Salt Lake City school District had had only 11 years of school. The year I graduated from South High School, 1939, we were given the choice of going a third year, making it twelve in all. I wanted desperately to go another year, but my parents, because of the rough time they had had during the depression years and were still having, thought I should graduate and earn some money if I could. I was never encouraged to go to college, either at school or at home. There was no money for it. I remember telling my parents that if I went, I'd want to play around and have fun and I couldn't do that and work my way through too. I worked that summer (and much of the high school years) helping a family who had five children. I especially remember the Saturdays. I would arrive there early, help with the housework until noon, help the children eat a big meal, then the parents would leave for their afternoon and evening of recreation. I took care of the five children from age three to eleven, fixed their light supper, put them to bed, and tended them until 10:00 or 11:00 p.m. when their parents returned. And all of this I did for $1.00!

In the fall of 1939 I registered at L.D.S. Business College. I had to borrow $80 from my brother Merrill to pay the tuition and I paid it back as soon as I got a job. It was a lot of money then. My friends Jean Herrscher and Ernie Zobrist were also going to school there so it was a lot of fun. (nee Jean Monsen) I met lots of new people, dated several new boys, and continued to attend most of the dances at South and East High School and many at the University of Utah. I took additional classes in English, Accounting, Shorthand, type, and business machines.

One day (after I had applied there) a supervisor for the Salt Lake City Board of Education, Mr. Becker, called me at L.D.S. and asked if I could cut stencils. I had never cut a mimeograph stencil in my life, but I boldly said yes and started doing some part-time work in his office at 440 East 4th South. A short time later he offered me the job of school clerk at the McKinley School and I accepted and quit going to school at LDS. It was a half-time job for which I was paid $11.25 per week! Everyone thought I was the luckiest girl in the world to get a steady job for they were very difficult to find. My good grades in high school had paid off because my Dictation and Transcription teacher had recommended me. I worked there just a few months until I was brought into Mr. Becker's office. He was the supervisor of Commercial Education in the schools and I was a stenographer in his office for three years. The working conditions were very pleasant and I enjoyed my work very much. I had general office responsibilities, typing, filing, some dictation, etc. It was my sole responsibility to duplicate anything that was necessary for the school system and I had what was then very modern equipment with which to work. Often I supervised up to six girls who were brought into the office to help with projects. I also took my turn taking breaks and lunch hours for the girl at the switchboard, which I found interesting too.

In September of 1939 I also met my future husband. We were both attending a Wells Stake Mutual party at Boxelder Flats in Millcreek Canyon, I with my parents and he with two boyfriends. I met two friends from school who knew the two boys that Lynn was with and so we sat and talked during the program and evening's activities. I asked permission from my parents to go home with my girlfriends, who were driving a parent's car. On the way down the canyon, who should we see thumbing a ride but the three boys. We picked them up, they bought us an ice cream cone, and then we all went home. The funny part is that Lynn didn't even know that I lived in the same ward as he did. I knew who he was, even though he was four years older, because every time he came home from college, the bishop asked him to pray or speak, and I also had seen the 1937 yearbook from South with pictures of him as popularity contest winner and star player on the baseball team, basketball team, and football team. I thought he must be about the most popular boy in town and was flattered that he'd even speak to me. He always says that I grew up while he was away to school and that's why he didn't know me.

We met again a little later at a ward dance and he asked me to dance. When I asked him if he was going back to school again he replied that he guessed he was going on a mission, rather unenthusiastically. I thought that was wonderful and told him so, never dreaming that I would be involved in any way. When he called and asked for a date a few days later, I was so surprised and flattered that I turned to my mother and said, "It's Lynn Sorensen! And he wants a date! What shall I say?" Morn said simply, "Tell him yes!"

To tell the truth, I was a little disappointed in our first dates. No one could have lived up to the image of this idol that I had built up in my mind. But after I got to know him, I liked him more each time we were together. At the same time I was dating several other fellows and not at all ready to settle down--I was only l6--but by the time Christmas came, I knew he was the type of person I wanted to marry. I was attracted not only by his personality, but his character and goals. I knew he could lead me where I wanted to go in life and this love that was growing between us could be a beautiful, eternal thing.

When he left for his mission in January, we were in love. He offered me his fraternity pin, but I was not ready to stay home or settle dawn, so I took his class ring instead and wore it often. We wrote to each other regularly for two years and eight months, but made no definite plans while he was gone. I was happy to share his mission and continued to admire him, although, I must admit that by the time he finally came home, I had difficulty remembering what he was like and why it was that I had loved him.

I had a great time during those years between 16 and 19. Earning my own money, I was happy to be able to buy (and pay for monthly) the living room set that mom and dad needed so badly, their first set of china, and other little things. I still had money to buy records, and clothes, and the fun foods that I had wanted so badly in my younger years. When my brother Grant went in the army, he left his car for me to drive. I was limited as to how many miles I could drive per month, and it wasn't many, but to have a car in those days and at my age was really something and I thought I was pretty smart!

I dated many boys during those years and really had a good tine, but I made one serious mistake. I thought that because I had decided that Lynn was the one that I wanted to marry, it didn't matter who I went out with. That's wrong and I want my grandchildren to realize that. You marry who you go with and you shouldn't compromise your standards for any reason. I became infatuated with a young man who was all wrong for me. He was good-looking, exciting, and the best dancer in the world, as far as I was concerned, but he also smoked, was not active in the church, and had neither the same standards nor goals that I had. We dated often and with him or the other fellows, I rarely missed a movie that came to town and almost always had a date for every "Big Band" that played in Salt Lake or Ogden. I loved dancing! We spent so many happy nights at Lagoon or Saltair in the summer and the Rainbow in the winter. I loved the excitement too and the recognition that popularity brings. I almost fell into the trap. I know that if I had not been praying every night for help, I would have married the wrong person and lived unhappily ever after--For he was pressuring me to marry him and making it sound so exciting, even though I knew that we had very little in common. The Lord helped me to keep my feet on the ground and to remember that I had been in love with Lynn, who was everything that I wanted.

And so I was at the railroad station when Lynn finally came home from Brazil. He stepped off the train looking as handsome and charming as ever and I stood ten feet behind his parents, so nervous that I was shaking and wondering what I was doing there. He greeted his parents then walked over to me and kissed me and I knew that suddenly it was all there again. I was wearing his fraternity pin and going steady by the end of the week, but the decision was still not easy. My head was sure, but my heart was wavering, until we really became reacquainted and then, just as it had before, love grew slowly and surely and by the time he gave me engagement ring on Christmas Eve, there was not a doubt in my mind that I was very much in love with Lynn Andrew Sorensen and wanted to be his wife for eternity.

Those were happy months for us, attending football games, dancing at the Rainbow, attending church together, walking in the snow. No matter what we did, we enjoyed doing it together. We were fortunate to have those months because America was in the middle of World War II and most couples were already separated.

I remember so well and will never forget The exact moment I heard about Pearl Harbor. It was such a shock to all of us. It was after Sunday School and I was in a car going up to my brother Merrill's house on Sunnyside Avenue with a friend. My folks and I were invited up there to dinner. When we heard the news that Pearl Harbor had been bombed by the Japanese, we knew immediately that our country would be at war. The young man I was with was of age and knew he would be going into the armed services almost immediately. I thought of my brother Grant who had enlisted in the National Guard and was on a ship bound for Hawaii at that very moment the reserve already having been called up. (His ship turned back and he didn't go to the Pacific but to Europe when he went.) Everyone was terribly upset and kept their ears to the radio whenever possible from then on. We were all so mad and felt so betrayed that we hated the Japanese with a passion. We were also afraid that our mainland would be attacked, but it never was. I remember so well President Roosevelt's declaration of war, everyone either trying to get into defense work or going off in the service. Our lives changed immediately.

In October of 1942 I had a chance to work at something useful to the war effort and also improve my situation financially. I went to work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation at about a 75% increase in salary. The work was difficult, but I enjoyed working there and had great admiration for the organization. Though there is much talk now about how corrupt the Director was, I saw nothing but good for the country in the organization from the inside. Tax dollars could never be spent more conservatively and efficiently than they were in that Bureau and the personnel with whom I came in contact were all well-trained and excellent in every way. The FBI enjoyed an excellent image at the time.

Lynn was attending the University of Utah, after his return from his mission, having been deferred temporarily to attend college, since he already had two years. He was taking R.O.T.C. classes along with his others, majoring in business. When we became engaged on Christmas Eve, we knew that he would be leaving for the Army Infantry on April 1. We decided to be married February 12 so That we could have six weeks together before he left.

It was a beautiful engagement period and beginning for our marriage. Lynn surprised me with a diamond engagement ring on Christmas Eve and it was just like I had always imagined it would be, even though he had brought the diamond home with him from Brazil and had it set in Miami without even asking about my preference. When he asked me to marry him, There was no doubt in my mind and I said yes eagerly. I have been in love with him ever since. There were several showers and parties given for us and the marriage was written up in the newspaper as was the custom then. (Announcement of my engagement too) I received my endowments in the Salt Lake Temple February 11, l943 and we were married there the next morning by President David 0, McKay, who was a counselor to President Grant at that time. He was so sweet to us and kissed me and wished me well. I always felt that we had the best possible start to our marriage, even though we didn't have a car, very little money or possessions, and were to be separated almost immediately.

We had a beautiful wedding reception in the Garden Park Ward. It was a terrible night with about two feet of new snow on the ground, but people came by the hundreds and stayed to enjoy a dance in the amusement hall. We received many, many 1ovely gifts which have served us well through all these years.

We spent our first night of marriage in the Temple Square Hotel downtown and then caught the bus for a four day honeymoon in Las Vegas. We stayed at the beautiful Last Frontier Hotel which was truly a resort hotel and an entirely different atmosphere than those hotels are now. By the way, there were only two hotels on the strip at that tine and they were building a third one--the Desert Inn. It was a beautiful honeymoon in a beautiful setting.

We returned to a little apartment on 1st South and about 3rd East which Lynn had to buy an insurance policy from the owner to get. Apartments were very difficult to find because of the influx of service men and their families and we were very lucky to be able to get one. Lynn was working and going to school and I was still working at the FBI. It was a pleasant time, although I became pregnant almost immediately and didn't feel very well. In spite of our precautions we were evidently destined to have a large family (we wanted five or six) and we really began early. It upset our plans a little because it meant I could not continue to work very long and would have to live on the $50 a month allotment the government would give me as a service wife. Under those conditions I decided to accept my parents' offer to move back in with them. (I should not have and do not recommend it to anyone. They were wonderful to me, but it was unfair to them and to us.) (Pregnant women could not stay on their jobs like they do today. Some places even refused to hire married women.)

The day my husband left was really a sad one for me. It was only the first of many times we would have to say goodbye, never knowing if we would ever see each other again. He was sent to little Rock, Arkansas for Basic Infantry training and hated it. When I quit my job in June, I went to join him, but could only stand it for one month. It was so terribly hot and humid there. Lynn could not live with me, but was allowed to come into town to see me for a couple of hours each night and then stay Saturday night--except when they were on bivouac, which was half the time. I could not work because I was pregnant, I couldn't even go outside in the daytime because it was so hot, and there was absolutely nothing to do in my little rented bedroom. The days seemed like eternities and so when he learned he would be gone again for a week, I left for home. (I would change that too if I had to go back. A wife's place is beside her husband whenever possible and we both would have been happier, hut I was young and inexperienced and didn't even know my husband very well yet.)

Marti was born November 9, 1943 in Salt Lake City while I was living with my parents. It was a difficult pregnancy (psychologically especially) and a difficult birth. (After nine hours of hard labor, the doctor said I would never bring the baby on my own, put me to sleep, and took the baby with forceps.) But after she was here, she was so darling and I loved her so much that I forgot about any inconvenience she might have caused. The only problem was that I was not well yet and she had colic so bad for the first three months that she cried night and day. My mother helped me very, very much.

When she was 11 days old, Lynn was given furlough to come home to visit us. He was pleased and proud of her and a very loving father--always. We had had so little time together that we were almost strangers with a baby. Our first year of marriage, we had spent only 12 weeks together. However, when Marti was three months old I had a chance to join my husband in Houston, Texas where he was now an aviation cadet with the Air Force. Grant and Evelyn (my brothers were both married a year or two prior to my marriage) were home on furlough and were going back to New Orleans. They were kind enough to take me (and a crying baby) with them as far as Houston. (My brothers have always been so kind and generous to me.) My mother was both relieved and worried for fear I couldn't take care of the baby all by myself in a strange city, but we got along fine, even though Lynn only was allowed to visit us, never stay even overnight with us. We lived in three different bedrooms with kitchen privileges and grew accustomed to cockroaches, humidity, and no mountains. I liked Houston, the weather was pleasant in the spring and I had a couple of friends there. I fell in love with my husband all over again in Houston and we were happy when we could be together as a family.

Early in May Lynn was sent to Laredo, Texas to Gunnery school and there was no place to live there to be with him, so I took my first airplane ride home, and was violently sick on the plane. (Between Albuquerque and Denver it was very rough and many people on the plane were sick.) When I got my feet on the ground in Denver, I decided that taking care of a baby under those circumstances was impossible, so I got a refund on my ticket and raced for the train station because I knew the train for Salt Lake left within a short time. With all the servicemen on the move, you had to get reservations three weeks in advance and then they could be canceled at any time. I was really taking a chance. There was a big line at the window and the train was about to leave. When I finally got to the ticket seller, he just gave me a dirty look when I asked for a ticket for that train. They had bean sold for weeks, he said, but while I was standing at the window a man who worked there came up and said to him. "I don't know what's happened here. I can't understand it, but we have two births open on this train." I not only had a seat to Salt Lake, but a birth to sleep in--and I needed it. That was typical of the way that Heavenly Father took care of me in my travels and answered my prayers. I arrived home safely and surprised my mother on Mother's Day.

Mother consented to tend Marti for me while I went to work for two months to be able to join my husband again. She was so good to me. When Lynn said I could join him again in San Marcos, Texas in August, I went as soon as I could. That was when dad 1oaned me his car. Lynn's sister Virginia went down with me and also the wife of another serviceman. That was quite an adventure, driving all those miles at wartime speed limits of 35 miles per hour. It took us about four days. We had our first flat tire in Moab and three more before we got there. Tires were rationed (gasoline too) so we had to go before the ration board in Albuquerque, New Mexico to even buy a used tire and have one re-capped.

We found the cutest little furnished house out in the middle of a cotton plantation and lived there happily for about ten months. I was happy to have Virginia with me at first because Lynn could still only come home on weekends. At the end of November, he was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in the Air Force and kept on there as an instructor in the Navigation School. This was a great blessing for us because it kept him out of action in the War. Virginia came home to stay and we came for a visit and it was fantastic to have a husband at my side after so many months--almost two years that we had not been able to live together.

I was still very homesick after six months--we were so isolated out there and it rained so much all winter and spring--that I decided to go home for a visit in June. My train was the first one to go through a flooded area between Dallas and Kansas City and it was pretty scary not being able to see anything but water and an occasional farm house on higher ground. The men who had been working on the tracks stood at the side and held their breath as the train crept slowly over the tracks. As a consequence we were very late getting into Kansas City and I missed my train to Denver. I had no hotel reservation and they were impossible to get at the last minute. I was a stranger, but I had heard that President Truman stayed in a certain hotel, The Muhlbach, when he was in Kansas City and so I asked the taxi to take me there. With Marti in my arms I asked the desk clerk for a room and he just laughed and said, "Oh, Lady." I told him I had a train to catch in the morning and would be out of the room by 6:00 a.m. Didn't he have any place we could sleep. He searched and found me a room for the night. The next morning when I talked to the Travelers Aid lady at the airport, she said, "Where aid you sleep last night then?" and when I told her she was amazed. She said, "There wasn't s hotel room anywhere in Kansas City last night. I know because I called all over. We had people sleeping all over the depot." The Lord had blessed me again.

Marti and I had quite the adventures traveling all aver the country alone and trying to find places to live. In Savannah, Georgia, we stayed in a rooming house and shared a bath with the other characters who lived there--and the cockroaches. Our landlady was a Southern Jewish lady who couldn't read or write, but we liked her and she liked us. When the war ended, late in August of 1945, she and I danced and wept together in happiness and gratitude. My husband was in the final phase of training before being sent to the Pacific area, so I traveled once more across the country to home. It wasn't easy! I was 7+ months pregnant and had to take care or Marti who was 22 months old, plus the luggage. Once more Lynn and I had no idea when we would see each other again, but the war was over and we felt more secure.

Marti and I met my brother Merrill, who was in the navy, in Chicago and walked all over the city--my first view of Chicago. I think he was embarrassed to be seen with me--I was so pregnant and everyone thought I was his wife because Marti looked so much like him. He was wonderful and generous to me as usual, though, and helped me all he could. I was grateful to arrive home safely and be welcomed back to my parents' home. Traveling on trains during the war was no fun. They were dirty, crowded, and not on time, and I usually ended up with some soldier falling asleep on my shoulder. We just considered ourselves lucky to get some transportation.

Kathy was born ten days early because the doctor was going on vacation and wanted to bring the baby before he left--! He said she would have been born in the next couple of days anyway, but since she was smaller than the others and somewhat jaundiced, I've often wondered. It was a much easier birth, for the doctor took me into the delivery room and started it--Then she was born 1 1/2 hours later, without benefit of prior medication. They tried a spinal block on me, which was new and worked in only 80% of the cases. It didn't work, but by the time they determined that, I was ready to deliver. Morn and Dad were wonderful to me as usual and took good care of us--I stayed in the hospital only 7 days this time instead of 10.

If Lynn was disappointed that it was another girl, he didn't say so and seemed just as thrilled as with Marti. Grandma Sorensen called him in Savannah, Georgia to tell him and he gave her good news too. That very day his whole air base had been declared surplus and he was going to be coming home within ten days! That was really music to my ears!

Shortly after my husband's arrival home, Merrill's house at about 1900 Sunnyside Avenue became vacant and they offered to rent it to us at a reduced price, so we took our two little girls and moved in. Lynn started back in school and studied so hard that we had little time together. Of course, he was working hard full tine to support his family also. It was during this time that we became good friends with Finn and Sara Paulsen and Jim and Ruth Faust. (Elder James E. Faust.) Jim and Lynn had known each other since high school and had worked together in the mission field. In the short months before they both went into the service, we had double-dated a little and now we became good friends. On New Years Eve we went to a Delta Phi party. (LDS Fraternity at the University of Utah) There we had fun with Roy and Alice Ruth Drechsel (unmarried) Glen and Charlotte Erickson (unmarried), several others and Finn and Sara. Finn had been in Brazil at the same time, but never worked with Lynn. We decided to get together after the dance and since we were the only ones who had a suitable house, they came to our house. We played "dirty Mellie" until morning and since Finn and Sara were not married yet, we teased them considerably about staying out all night. The joke was really on us, though, because we had children who got us up early in the morning and the others didn't. We have been close friends ever since that night, spent many vacations together, raised our families together, and the five of us have mourned together since the death of Finn just a short while ago.

Merrill and Helen came home just a few months later and since apartments were still very scarce, we were forced to move back in with my parents. We still didn't own a car or any furniture, but we began to buy a few things like a refrigerator and an electric range. We saw an ad for a new house to be built in a subdivision which we decided to investigate. We didn't like the area, but loved the house plan and the contractor told us of a lot that might be available on Melbourne Street and 3160 South. We bargained with the owners, the two spinster schoolteachers; they liked us and sold us the corner lot. The house was to be completed in three months, but it took the poor contractor a year to build it and before we were through, he owed us money, which we never collected.

Finally, on Memorial Day, 1947 we moved into our new house and a few days later Lynn graduated from college! What a happy day for us! Lynn had a good job with Salt Lake Cabinet and Fixture Company (the company Grandpa Sorensen worked for too) and things seemed to be going right for us. I even went on a lumber buying trip with my husband and his boss John Fetter. We spent three weeks in Northern California, Oregon and Washington and I enjoyed it so much. My sister-in-law was good enough to take Marti and Kathy for me and after three weeks away from them, I could hardly wait to get back. We planted petunias and a hedge and grass at our new house, accepted any and all old furniture we could get and ended up with a hodgepodge of old furniture, enough to get by. The floors were all bare, the dining room had nothing in it, we bought a bedroom suit for our bedroom. We even bought Uncle Merrill's small car and felt that we were on top of the world.

By the way, Lynn graduated from the University of Utah with high honors and was #1 in the School of Business graduating class. I was looking forward to his having more time to spend with the children and me, but he soon began refereeing basketball and football, so although we loved each other very much and got along well, we still didn't have an awful lot of time together. Even so, I looked forward to the birth of our new baby because everything seemed to be so right for us. Craig was born the following March 5 and his dad was very happy to have a boy. We considered naming him Lynn Junior, but because we had given Marti the middle name of Lynne, we decided on Craig and William for William Boam, his great grandfather.

When, after only a short time, I discovered I was pregnant again, I was not so happy and beginning to feel overwhelmed with my little family that was coming so fast--before We could plan for them. However, when one year to the date later we had another boy, we were really pleased. That made it two and two and we knew they would be good friends. Lynn decided that he did indeed want a son named Lynn and so he became Lynn David--for David 0. McKay, who married us and was by then President of the Church.

There was no insurance to pay for babies and our budget was beginning to be stretched to the breaking point, but the Lard seemed to take care of us and every time we had a new baby, we would also get an increase in salary. The year 1949 was full of surprises for us. My father's health worsened, his heart condition making it necessary for him to have oxygen in the house. Late in November he had a serious heart attack and the doctor didn't think he would live through the night. Merrill called and told me and I remember waiting at the window for Lynn to get home from basketball to comfort me. One of my mutual girls (I was teaching mutual) was there and offered to tend for me, but Merrill told me not to come. I was so afraid that my dad would die without my having a chance to tell him how much I loved him. His condition improved and I spent some time with him and then on Thanksgiving morning I spent several hours with him and he felt sure that he would be going home on Saturday morning. He didn't seem very well to me though and every time he drifted off to sleep, I was afraid he was going to die, because he sort of held his breath.

About an hour after I learned of his death on Saturday morning, Brother Aposhian, whom we didn't know, but had seen as a member of the Stake High Council, came to our door. After a few minutes with my husband, he called me into the room and told me that he was to be the new bishop (they were dividing Grandview Ward). Then he told me that he had asked Lynn to be his counselor and asked how I would feel about that. I was so pleased and so proud of Lynn. I told him I thought that would be a great honor for us. I had never dreamed that my husband would ever be in a bishopric. Later he told us how he kept going over the list of tithe-payers and couldn't decide on anyone for his counselor. He kept seeing that name Lynn Sorensen, but didn't know who he was and so dismissed it. The spirit just kept prompting him to choose Lynn Sorensen, so finally he came to the house, not even knowing who he was, but he was so pleased at the spirit which we both seemed to have, that he knew he had made the right choice.

That was an emotional weekend for me. I was so upset and sad over the death of my father and yet so happy over Lynn's new calling that I was just sort of numb and didn't know how to respond when everyone congratulated us. I knew how proud my dad would be and so pleased and happy and yet I was so sad that he couldn't live to see it. His funeral was sort of a nightmare for me--He was so young to go. I didn't think he looked like himself at all in the coffin and that upset me. It was a hard time.

It seemed impossible to help my mother. She was working full time for Merrill as a cashier at Dahnkens and so came home tired at night. She didn't want to come out to our house and I was so tied with four little ones that it was impossible for me to get there very often. She was quite independent, but very sad and depressed, which made it a worry for me in addition to my family.

With the new ward organization, I became a counselor in the MIA, which I dearly loved. Not only did I love working with the young people, but it gave me an outlet for my creative abilities. I was always writing road shows, skits, poems, lyrics to songs, and even composing melodies during the many years happily spent serving the Lord in the MIA. It was difficult because we always had to hire a baby-sitter for me to be able to leave the family and every time I became pregnant and had morning sickness, my husband would have me released, but they always called me back again. Over the years I served in many different capacities in the MIA: First and Second Counselor, Gleaner Leader, Laurel Leader, Drama Director, etc. I enjoyed them all.

Sometimes the work at home was overwhelming. There was always an endless supply of dirty dishes and bottles waiting to be washed. The girls were already sleeping on the studio couch in the living room because our two bedrooms were so small. The washing and hanging of clothes to dry was constant and dirty diapers piled up by the dozens. It was impossible for me to even go to the grocery store without someone to tend the children and the grandmas were not available to help at all. I sometimes wondered how they managed to rear their own small children because they seemed so afraid of mine. I remember how one time I had asked Grandma Sorensen to tend Marti, Kathy, and Craig while I went to the doctor while I was expecting Lynn. It has always been very difficult for me to ask favors of others, but there was no other time for me to go--the doctor didn't keep hours after school or on Saturdays. I arrived at Grandma's house in a rush, having struggled to get everyone ready. I left them at about ten minutes to three with instructions to grandma that if the baby cried it would be because he was hungry and to give him the bottle which I had placed in the refrigerator. When I had finished with the doctor, I realized that I would have time to go to the grocery store before Lynn got off work and maybe Grandma Sorensen wouldn't mind tending the children that extra hour since I was supposed to be back in town to pick up Lynn at five anyway. I went to a store that was close to downtown and pulled up in front of his office at 5:00 p.m. He came rushing out to meet me, just furious because I had caused his mother so much suffering. "Where have you been?" he shouted at me, condemnation in his voice. His mother had called him, completely upset, and told him how frantic she was with the children. The baby was screaming, Janet was nowhere in sight, and maybe he'd have to come home to take them off her hands. I was completely crushed. When we arrived at Grandma's house, the girls were fine, easy to tend as always; the baby was indeed screaming, he hadn't been fed! Grandma was beside herself, and somehow I was to blame for everything for having indulged myself by going to the doctor and to the grocery store while Grandma was tending. I had been gone 2 1/2 hours in total. I never asked her to tend again. Nor did I ask favors of many people.

And yet we were happy with our growing family! We had wanted five or six children when we were married and were on the way to reaching our goal. I had always felt that my own family was too small. I had no sister, few relatives in the area, and with Roy gone, only two brothers. We wanted a larger family and were so thrilled with the intelligent, beautiful children which the Lord had sent us. Marti was a dar1ing, so conscientious and responsible; Kathy was a joy, spontaneous in her actions, funny and entertaining; Craig was so shy, afraid of people, but very handsome and easy to love; Lynn was a smiler, happy, calm, easy to take care of. We loved them all very much.

By the time Cindy came along, I wanted another little girl, preferably with dark hair this time and curly, not like mine. I was so pleased to get just what I had ordered and felt that this time I was truly ready and longing for a new baby. She was such a beautiful baby that everyone commented on her beauty and we felt blessed once more to have such a lovely child. My husband had made arrangements for a woman to come in to help for about a week at the time the babies were born and also to come in once every two weeks to help clean the house and tend for the while I had an afternoon off. This was a life-saver for me and did much to keep my morale up. So even with five children under eight years of age, I was able to survive. Lynn was still refereeing basketball in addition to all his duties as a counselor in the bishopric. (He was a counselor to three consecutive bishops.) This meant he was rarely home on weeknights and only briefly on Sundays, but he was always home for dinner and long enough to tell me to be firm and consistent with the children's discipline. I tried. There were many nights when I fell into bed at 10.30 absolutely exhausted, having just finished putting five children to bed and washing innumerable dishes. I remember it as being hard but very rewarding work.

Lynn and I were still very much in love and very compatible. I was learning to control my fast temper and he was learning to share some of his precious moments for contemplation. He was always good to me when he was home, helping with the dishes, playing with the children. He was a good father. He realized the importance of getting me out of the house and free of responsibility often and faithfully took me out on a date once a week. I looked forward to those Friday nights like you wouldn't believe and sometimes it seemed like a month in coming. We enjoyed movies, ward parties, sometimes a dance, and mostly just being by ourselves. We have never had enough of just being by ourselves together.

We also had occasional trips together: Fishing trips to Fish Lake with the Paulsens (two couples) and the Fausts, conventions in San Francisco, Idaho Falls, Los Angeles, a trip to Los Angeles with our friends, eventually Yellowstone Park, camping, and the Beach House at Capistrano Beach, California. Those moments away from the routine and often the children helped me to keep my equilibrium. We had a happy, but extremely busy life.

I remember in detail the day I learned I was going to have twins! It was almost the straw that broke the camels back! From the beginning the doctor had said I was either going to have a big baby or twins, but since they had always said that to me and the babies had always been big (between 8 and 10 lbs except for Kathy and the twins) that didn't even scare me. However when I was about six and one half months along, he decided to take an x-ray. I had to wait two weeks to get the results, but I wasn't very worried because I knew it was just a big baby. It was going to be difficult enough as it was because Cindy would only be a year and a half old when the new baby came and I really had my hands full. Lynn tended the children while I went to the doctor's on Saturday morning (Dr. Johns now). When he told me that the x-ray showed two babies very clearly and let me see for myself, I was dumbfounded. There were no twins on either side of our family and I didn't know at the time that fraternal twins can come to anyone. Dr. Johns said they would probably came early, as much as a month, but could still be quite large, judging by our other babies. I practically staggered out the door, feeling heavily the weight of the responsibility that would be mine.

I tried to do the grocery shopping on the way home, but could not even think. When I came in our back door, the whole family was at the kitchen table eating lunch. "Are you going to have twins, mama?" they started in. "Is it twins?" My husband's eyes were on mine and I longed to talk with him in private, to not make this pronouncement public at that moment, but the children were persistent. "What did the doctor say? Is it twins?" With tears starting to overflow, I ran for the bedroom. "Yes, it is," I shouted and collapsed on the bed.

It was difficult not to be negative until their birth. Kathy had caught up with Marti's size at an early age and we had dressed them alike. Craig and Lynn were only a year apart and even had the same birthday. We thought we had had all the fun of twins. I was genuinely concerned about how on earth I would take care of two more. They were growing so large and were so active that I was miserable all of the time. I had outgrown all but one of my maternity clothes--I wore the same dress to mop the floor as I did to go to Church, after a hasty washing. I couldn't get my shoes on and had to wear soft leather Indian moccasins in and out of the house. Somehow the Lord blessed me and I was still able to take care of my family.

Kent and Scott were born just ten days early, while my doctor was out of town, and each weighed 7 lbs. 10 oz! It was an easy birth, almost too fast to make it to the hospital, and, as usual, the Lord blessed me, for they were not as difficult as I had imagined.

We put two little cribs in the dining room, spent endless hours feeding and changing three babies, day and night, but were very proud parents and learned that actually having twins in the family was an entirely different experience from what we had already known.

There were now nine or us in a small two-bedroom house. Something had to be done. We put our house up for sale and started looking for a bigger home that we could afford. Everything that we saw for sale seemed to have very small rooms and we wanted a big family house. Our home didn't sell anyway until we reduced the price and by then we had decided that we would build, with Lynn acting as the contractor and his dad doing the cabinet and woodwork. After much looking and begging we were able to buy a lot in our same ward which would do nicely and we also bought a piece of land behind the lots on the street for a garden area. All in all we had about 3/4 acre of our own at 2046 East 3000 South Street. We sold our house, rented an old house on Highland Drive and 3200 South and prepared to work hard and stick it out until Lynn and his dad could get the house built. I cried when we left the house on Melbourne St.. I loved that house and would have been happy to just add rooms in the basement, but Lynn thought that impractical and was willing to work long hours to build us one that we could afford which was large enough for our family.

We moved on Thanksgiving Day, in 1953. The following year was a nightmare for me. The house on Highland Drive was the only one we could find that we could afford and where the owners would allow our big family. It was so old that the plumbing and lighting had been added after it was built and was forever breaking down. It was situated in a commercial area, with much traffic on the street in front and a working brickyard down the side street. I spent much time looking for young children who had run away to Sprouse-Reitz Store, or to play in the clay banks of the brickyard, or perhaps to spy on the customers of the Beer Parlor which was only two doors away. We were more crowded than ever and I was absolutely swamped with seven children, the oldest of whom had just turned 10.

In addition, Kenwood Ward had just been divided and my husband should have been released as a counselor because we didn't even live in either side of the ward, but when Finn and Sara Paulsen came to visit one night I knew immediately why. He had been asked to be the new Bishop and felt that he couldn't do it without Lynn as a counselor. He apologized to me for even considering him, but I had to tell him what I knew to be true. "I believe Bishops are entitled to inspiration," I said and agreed that Lynn should continue as a counselor. Lynn's every waking moment was spent either in his daily work, his Church work, building our new house, or refereeing basketball and football. It was an extremely difficult time for him and an absolute ordeal to be lived through for me. When I thought I would really lose my mind and complained that I couldn't take it any longer, after they had spent endless hours working to complete the house, I was met with the charge of ingratitude for all the work that was being done in the family's behalf and told to hang on longer. I did.

There were some interesting happenings while we lived in that house. I did not have a Church calling at the time, but was trying desperately to be a good example. When the Relief Society sisters insisted that I come to Relief Society and even offered to pick me up and help me bring the four children who were not in school, I couldn't refuse. After coming home to find Neal and Virginia sitting in my dirty, cluttered little home with the breakfast dishes still on the table and empty, sour babies' bottles all over the house, I decided that Relief Society was one thing that would have to go for a while. I had made formula, sterilized bottles, bathed four tiny children and dressed them, done two batches of washing, cooked breakfast, and made the beds before going to Relief Society, but it was not enough. It was difficult to see that I had accomplished anything. Marti and Kathy remember coming home from school to find the dishes waiting for them to wash and being resentful because mother didn't do anything all day long. We did have a girl that came in after school some days to help finish the ironing or do the dishes and that helped some.

While we were living there, Kathy wanted stilts for Christmas and her dad had some made for her. We thought it was just the Torn-boy coming out in her until we discovered she was using them to see in the high, round window of the Beer Parlor's door. We also learned too late that she was passing notes into the management and customers telling them to reform and repent!

Lynn D. fell and cut his leg wide open on a broken bottle in back of the bakery. Cindy ran away with the little neighbor boy who was no older, but much wiser in the ways of the world than she. She was found by the police over a mile away on the same busy street. She was only 2 1/2 and not allowed to go outside her own yard! Craig was miserable in school and had to be forced to go each day; he and Lynn were impossible to discipline, even when they ran away to watch the train in the brickyard and accepted a ride and a nickel from the engineer. Their cousin, Bob Weech, came to visit just once and they got into a sack of lime that was hidden in the old garage. A bath soon restored the white mummies to life, but the next morning poor Craig was literally covered with huge hives and in agony. The doctor's prescription lasted just long enough to let them break out anew each time, but it was more successful than the medicine that the twins received for their vomiting and diarrhia. After the first scare of dehydrating was over and mother had been shut up in the house with them for two weeks, I kept trying to run errands and get a minute's peace away from the family, only to return to find they had vomited all over the house again and to feel guilty for ever having left. Through it all Marti and Kathy were mature enough at 8 and 10 to be some help, good students in school, and a small sample of the strength they would be to me in the ensuing years. There were, of course, some sweet moments with my little family. I remember rocking Cindy to sleep every night after the twins were down so that she wouldn't feel neglected. Taking the children to church was a job, but also a joy. Sunday dinners at Grandma Sorensens were a welcome change. And Lynn and I still managed to go out together nearly every week. Somehow we made it through the year.

On Thanksgiving Day, 1954 we moved into our beautiful new hone that we had both worked so hard to achieve. Lynn and Grandpa Sorensen, and special friends and relatives, had labored long to make it possible for us and when it was completed, it was truly something to be proud of. We moved in with just the kitchen, two bedrooms and a bath completed, but it was like heaven to us. If my toddling twins got into the sugar drawer or spread all the pans on the floor, at least it was a new floor and easy to clean up--and everything worked. We wore out a brand new washer in the first three years in our new, being-completed house, but when the little boys ran away it was only up to our very own orchard, or across the dead-end street and things began to get a little easier for me.

Before I knew it I was back working in the mutual again, Lynn was on the High Council, most of the children were in school, and we were having great fun as a family. Christmas traditions flourished, camping became possible, the "farm" was growing, the basement rooms were nearly all finished, and it was wonderful to have such a big, close family. Except for the bad times, of course, when we tried to cope with the children's emotional problems, rushed to the hospital for the operations or sutures, tried desperately not to fight with the "strange" neighbors, and prayed that we could successfully rear them all to maturity.

During these years, I had no difficulty staying thin. The eighteen-hour per day job I had took care of that. It also kept me humble. Though Lynn made comparatively good money and was climbing the scale in management, his large family took every penny he could make. I sometimes longed for a hamburger from the Arctic Circle over on the corner or even a bottle of store-bought soda water in the refrigerator, but shoes for the children took priority in most instances. Though we never had much to spare, we always had enough money for our needs, and that was truly a blessing.

My health had been good through all my pregnancies, but now I was getting rundown and seemed to catch some of the children's colds and minor diseases. One particularly strong seige of flu refused to leave me and I got weaker and weaker until I could not take care of myself, or even lift my head from the pillow. I was truly glad to go to the hospital, where they began to feed me through my veins and my strength began to be restored. After a few days, I came home feeling much better, but the illness returned again and again and I became very discouraged. It had caught me at a time when not only my normal anemia and low blood pressure were in force, but the white corpuscles in my blood were also down and I couldn't fight it off. Finally with much patience on the part of my husband and family and help from the Ward members, I became well once more.

What is there to say about those happy, growing-up years of my family? I loved my children, took joy in each one individually, and was completely immersed in the job of being a wife and mother. I loved reading and writing and music of every type. Then, as now, I enjoyed what traveling we could do, camping, taking the family to the fair, etc. We never missed a Santa Claus parade, had the relatives here many times for special occasions, went to visit the grandmas on Sunday, participated in all Church activities, etc. Working in the garden and putting up much fruit became part of the program. The new clothes dryer helped considerably with the work and the new freezer made buying for the family more economical. We were a happy, busy family.

I seemed to always have a longing for new babies, even though my family came rapidly and, at this point, I knew I probably shouldn't have more. I guess the Lord gave me that desire because he knew there were two more to add to our family and so I was happy when Gary and Wayne were born. I worried some about whether I would have the stamina to take care of their needs and wants in their teen years and I hope that I have done so adequately, but when they were born, they were much loved and wanted.

Gary was the biggest of our babies at birth--9 lb 15 oz! And two weeks late in getting here. He had a little colic as a baby, which surprised me because I thought I knew how to handle everything by then. (Marti and Kathy had colic too.) After he outgrew that he was a calm, loving baby and a complete joy, although I still had my hands extremely full.

When Gary was still a baby, in February of 1959, I caught pneumonia, or rather I caught a bad cold while taking swimming lessons at the University in the dead of winter. With the demands of my family, there was no time to rest and after a long seige it developed into pneumonia. It was the Sunday morning that Finn Paulsen was to be sustained as our new Stake president and I wanted to be there very badly. After the rush to get everyone there on time, and with Gary asleep on my lap, I suddenly felt very ill about halfway through the meeting. I was out in the foyer and was able to get someone to give a message to Lynn who was seated with the High Council. (Through all those years that the family was young, he was seldom able to sit with us in Church.) The doctor wanted x-rays and tests made the next day--I remember it so well, because the same day that I found out that I actually had pneumonia, Lynn had to leave for a training seminar for Litton in San Francisco. I really felt alone in my hour of need, even though mother stayed that first night with me and Bishop White carne to give me a blessing early the next morning, after which I was able to relax and sleep. (He was at the house before dawn to take Marti on her paper route because there was so much snow on the ground.) We spent our anniversary that year with me in bed with pneumonia and Lynn in San Francisco on business. For at least ten years after that I caught a bronchial infection every winter and had to have numerous shots and medications to keep it from going into my lungs. I'm glad I have overcome that tendency.

On March 8, 1959 Lynn was sustained Bishop of the Kenwood II Ward. I was happy with his calling because I knew he was called by the Lord, was worthy of the call, and could handle the responsibility well. He was a good Bishop and served until December 8, 1965.

Marti and Kathy were old enough by the time Gary was born to be a great help with the family. Marti particularly, took responsibilities around the house well and Kathy helped a great deal also, although it was sometimes under protest when she was young. While I was recuperating from pneumonia (which leaves you so weak for a long time) we were also able to get Mrs. Thommen to come to help part of the time and for many years she came and cleaned the house once every two weeks which was such a help to me. I feel that Marti and Kathy were sent to our family first so that they could give me help that I so desperately needed. I hope that it has been a help to them with their families to have had this experience, because they surely were a help to me.

We had many blessings and choice experiences as a family while Lynn was Bishop, but, of course, it necessitated his being away from home and preoccupied a great deal. It also meant he had to give up officiating at basketball and football games, which he dearly loved and which brought in sore extra money.

In January of 1960, Lynn's father, grandpa Sorensen, died very suddenly and it was a shook to all of us. He was a kindly, quiet man, very vigorous and had done so much for us in the building of our house that we shall always be grateful to him. It was terribly hard on Grandma Sorensen because she was very dependent on him. There followed some sad times with her being quite demanding of her children, but Grandma Sorensen made much progress in becoming independent and not too many years passed before she was her cheerful self once more. We enjoyed so much having her cone to dinner at our house and going there to visit.

In August, 1960, Wayne was born. We were so pleased to have another healthy baby with such a pleasant personality and keen intellect. We have been very blessed in our family to have been given good minds as well as healthy bodies. Wayne and Gary were both easy. obedient children and brought much joy to the whole family.

During these growing years for the family, we had many almost traumatic situations. Nearly everyone had to have stitches at one time or another, Lynn D. broke his arm falling out of the apple tree, Craig, Cindy, and Wayne had hernia operations. Later on Cindy also broke her arm roller skating and also had her appendix removed. Accidents were almost a daily occurrence with six boys in the family and usually it was up to me to rush someone to the doctor. We also had our share of illnesses. Marti had rheumatic fever when she was nine years old, which, thankfully, left no mark on her heart. Kathy was seriously ill with the flu when she was two, but the power of the priesthood healed her and caused the fever to go down. We had all of the usual colds, some measles, mumps, and chicken pox and plenty of doctor bills. One of the most frightening accidents was when Craig's leg was burned. He was in Junior High School and he and Lynn were foolishly experimenting with gasoline up in our orchard when it ignited faster than expected and gave Craig serious third degree burns on his leg. He was flat on his back for many, many days before the skin grafts were sufficiently strong. We were grateful that his whole body wasn't burned. Later, when Wayne was barely five, Kent and Scott had the same curiosity and their experiment ignited just as Wayne walked by, burning him in the same manner. He spent weeks recuperating, then a year waiting for the final sore to heal. It didn't, so he had to go back into the hospital for skin grafts also. They were really bad accidents.

When Wayne was not yet a year old, the doctor thought it advisable for me to have a hysterectomy and some other repair work done. The operation was very hard on me because my body doesn't manufacture blood as quickly as it should. After the second pint of blood was given to me about four days after the surgery, I finally began to feel better. Marti took care of Wayne and many household duties for almost a month while I recuperated. Then we all went on a big vacation to San Francisco and down the coast to San Diego to visit with Neal and Virginia and their family.

That spring Marti had graduated from Olympus High school with honors and how proud we were of our first graduate. In the fall when she attended BYU on a scholarship, we missed her terribly and thought Thanksgiving would never come when she would be home. The following year it was Kathy with the honors and the scholarships. She had been among the first student body officers at the new Skyline High School. Dad bought a dishwasher to help with the work, but morn missed her girls tremendously, and not just because of the help they were!

The summer of 1963 Grandma Weech took me on a long trip, a bus tour of most of the points of interest in the East and Middle West. We saw St. Louis, Richmond, Williamsburg (interesting!), Washington, New York, Boston. Montreal, Niagara Falls, Cleveland Chicago, all the Church points of interest, and many points in between. It was wonderful! My sweet girls and family took care of each other and gave me the break that I needed. I missed my husband so much, though, that I decided it wasn't much fun without him.

On March 29, 1964 I was sustained as Relief society President and served until January 23, 1966. I enjoyed the work, but found it very difficult to do right with my big family and a pre-schooler still at home. During the period that I was President, members of our immediate family were in the hospital six different times--My husband three different times for a serious finger bone infection and blood poisoning! Marti and Kathy were both married during this period of time also. These happenings, in addition to the difficult responsibilities inherent in the job, began to tell on my nerves and so I had to ask to be released. There followed some very difficult years for me, but again, I was able to take care of my family.

We were grateful that the girls chose such wonderful husbands and that Craig and Lynn accepted their mission calls and served so well. Craig especially had had problems adjusting to life with his emotional handicap, but through the help of the Lord and the ward members and church programs he had been completely healed. To us, this has always seemed like a miracle and we know that our prayers in his behalf were answered.

In Sept. of 1966, with all my children in school, I decided to realize one of my desires--to go to college and get a degree. It has always been one of my regrets that I didn't do that when I was young, so I registered at the University of Utah, passed the tests waiving some subjects, was admitted and began with just two classes--Review Algebra, which I had never had and English, which I loved. I thoroughly enjoyed learning and managed to get a B in the math class and an A in Eng1ish. However, the week before test week, Lynn lost his job and because of the circumstances, I decided not to continue at the U at that time.

In 1965, Lynn had decided to leave Litton Industries, where he was Assistant to the Manager and in a very influential position, to become the Plant Manager of the Deseret News Press. We thought that the Church-owned printing plant could only go up with the growth of the Church and it seemed like a good opportunity. However, Lynn found the work terribly frustrating because there were so many problems with personnel inherent in the job and he was not given a free hand to correct them. He could see what needed to be done, but was not allowed to actually manage the business. This began to wear on his nerves until he was close to a nervous breakdown, as I had been previously. He hated to quit, but certainly didn't expect to be let go. He was replaced by a brother-in-law of the Chairman of the Board--who didn't solve anything. There followed some bad years for him until he completely recovered his health and finally found some employment in which he could be happy once more.

In 1969 we discovered that my mother had a fatal disease, cancer of the bone marrow. The doctor said she had two months to live. I had her here at the house with me for a while and then my sister-in-law, Helen Weech, took her for a long period of time. She was so good to her and I love her for it. Actually, mother's mind was going along with her body and she was extremely difficult to take care of because of her attitude. After she returned to our house, we couldn't get a doctor to come to see her, her pain grew worse and worse, and we finally decided to put her in the hospital and then in a near-by nice rest home where I could visit her every day. Actually she improved some then, but gradually went down hill again until she died in October 1970. I am sorry that I have to remember mother as she was when she was ill, but I can look farther back to such pleasant memories of her. She was a wonderful mother. I wish my children could have known her as I knew her.

While Grandma Weech was in the rest home, in June 1970, Grandma Sorensen had to have a gall bladder operation. The incision didn't heal properly and she went steadily down hill--Really a surprise to all of her family. She died June 14, 1970, and now our children had no grandparents. I'm grateful that all of them at least remember Grandma Sorensen and the many nice things she did for them.

Lynn was called to serve on the General Board of the MIA, which was a great blessing for all of us. He traveled to Regional Conferences and one of his assignments was in Brazil. Our son Lynn was serving there in the Brazil South Mission and because of our lifetime association with Brazil and people who had served in Brazil, we decided that I would go with Lynn on his assignment.

We had to borrow the money for the plane fare from my generous brother, Merrill, but in the spring of 1970 we realized one of our strong desires--to return to Brazil. It was a marvelous experience and I loved the people and the country. Lynn did well on his assignment and we thought that would be the last opportunity for either of us to go there. On our way home we stopped for four days in Mexico City and thoroughly enjoyed our stay there.

For several years we had been taking our vacations at the Brockbank beach house on Capistrano Beach and loving it. It had proved to be a life-saver for both Lynn and I when the pressures of home and work got too much for us. The little house right on the ocean had been purchased by Merrill in behalf of Mrs. Brockbank, Helen's mother, as an investment when her husband died. They had begun staying there and had told us about how wonderful it was. Through many years it was a haven for us and we still love to go there. Merrill and Helen loved it so much that when he retired at age 55, they built a beautiful house on the same beach.

When the General Board of the MIA was dissolved to institute a new program, Lynn was released, but was soon called to the Melchezidek Priesthood MIA Board. He enjoyed that assignment very much too. We had some great associations, assignments, parties, etc. as a result of those two callings. It was a distinct honor also so be called to serve in that General capacity.

About in 1967, I had been called to serve on the Stake Board of the MIA in Wilford Stake as the organist. I had mentioned to my husband, who was on the High Council, that I would like a job playing the piano so that I could fulfill that part of my patriarchal blessing which mentions the joy I would have and give as a result of my interest in music, drama, dance, etc. I had in mind accompanying the Junior Sunday School or Primary. I don't know whether he had anything to do with it or not, but accompanying on the organ was out of my field. I decided to give it a try, took organ lessons for a while, and struggled with it--not having the time to practice at the Church or the coordination to do it well. However, I did enjoy accompanying the musicals which were put on each year and enjoyed immensely working with the young people and the board members. After three years, I felt that I was worrying so much about the organ that I wasn't doing justice to my classes in leadership meeting. I asked if I could possibly accompany on the piano. Instead, they called me to be the drama leader. There I found my true love. Directing musicals, plays, readers theaters, skits, roadshows, etc. was pure joy for me and combined all the elements I loved so much--Dance, Drama, Speech, Music, writing. I felt that because I had been willing to do whatever I was called to do, no matter how difficult for me, I was rewarded with what I could do best and enjoy most. I served in that position for three more years during which time Sister Slaydon and I produced and directed "Oklahoma" with a cast of 150 and full orchestra, "The Order is Love" which was almost as big and many other lesser productions. I also had the opportunity to write and direct my own Readers Theater, "Assassination," supervise the stake roadshows, and many other interesting tasks. I loved my work on the Stake Board and those with whom I worked.

In 1971 or 72 Lynn begin to work for the Church and at last found the atmosphere in which he could relax and be at his best. It seemed that all the jobs he had held were in preparation for his new Church job and he was greatly relieved and happy in his work. It was then that we received the call from President Lee which changed our lives. In 1973 we were called to Preside over the Brazil South Mission! Since my book "Don't sit on' the Alligator" deals with those three years in detail, I won't say much about them here except that it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life--difficult, challenging, but rewarding. It was difficult to be separated from the family, most difficult, and it was sad to see the negative effect it had on Gary, who accompanied us with Wayne also. But somehow I felt that it was the reward for me that the Lord had given me for trying so hard all those years to do my duty as a wife and mother and stalwart member of His Church.

We had many good experiences with the boys while in Brazil too and all in all I feel that it was a great experience for them too. We all learned Portuguese and I was able to contribute my share toward the advancement of the work in the mission. I'm grateful beyond words for that opportunity and would go again with enthusiasm if called anywhere in the world.

Our family stuck together marvelously well in our absence. Cindy, who had been married in January of 1971, seemed to gather those who were in and out of Salt Lake around her and keep them together, as did Mona and Dick and the other relatives. While we were gone, Lynn D. and Janine were married in the temple and four grandchildren were born. The four oldest had graduated from college previously and Scott and Kent returned from serving their missions in Japan and the Washing ton area, spent some time with us in Brazil, and then returned to school at BYU. When we returned from Brazil, our house, which had been rented, was clean and ready for us with a new sprinkler system, new white painted block, and the garden in--Thanks largely to Scott with help fran Cindy and Jim, Kent, Gary, and some good friends and relatives. We were most grateful for that. Dick and Mona also were so great to us, taking care of Gary for a year, welcoming Kent and Scott and all of our family into their home and their hearts and handling all of our business affairs as well. We are so grateful to them also.

The adjustment back to normal life when we returned from Brazil was more difficult than I had thought it would be. On the way home we were so glad to be able to visit with Marti in Massachusetts, Lynn in New Jersey, and Kathy in Arkansas and have Craig come home to meet us, so that we were able to see all our family almost immediately.

I will never forget the feeling I had to be back in my beloved country once more. After all the red tape we had become accustomed to in Brazil, it seemed like a welcome when we passed through immigration and customs so easily. When the lady stamped my passport I said, "We're so happy to be home again," and she replied enthusiastically, "We're happy to have you back!" I felt like kneeling and kissing the ground!

It was the Bicentennial Year and we were in Boston to hear the Declaration of Independence read from the same balcony where it had been read two hundred years before. To participate in all those ceremonies and then to share our spot on the lawn on the Esplanade beside the Charles river with 400,000 fellow Americans, as we watched the fireworks and listened to the Boston Pops orchestra play our familiar music, was such a thrill that it's not possible for me to express it. I thought they were the most beautiful, well-behaved people in the world! To be born members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and to be born in America are the two richest blessings in the world. What more could we ask!

Now once more we are enjoying our lives as "civilians," Kent and Scott are also married; I love my three daughter-in-laws and they have enriched our lives. We are the proud grandparents of 16 grandchildren--with many more to come. What a joy it is to hold little ones once more! Though we wish distances weren't so great, we stay close as a family and enjoy each other's company. Lynn is happy in his job, we have many opportunities I never thought we would have, and at the moment I am doing exactly what I want to do. Before we went to Brazil, I had the desire to work as a secretary once more and was hired as the Office Manager by a small import firm. I became deeply involved in the business and my responsibilities and enjoyed my work very much. After our return, I was asked to go to work for a Real Estate Firm as their secretary. I enjoyed that also to a certain extent, but the job was hectic and nerve-racking and when the doctor told me I had fibrocitis in my muscles and that the pain was greatly increased by pressure, I decided to quit.

In December or 1978, I volunteered to help a young Brazilian girl who attended Olympus Junior High School to learn English. That led to the Granite School District asking me to teach English as a Second Language. For the semester I taught three Brazilians, one Korean girl, one boy from Laos, two boys from Iran, and 7 boys from Viet Nam. All but six Vietnamese boys were Junior High and High School students. They were in Elementary School and knew no English when they started with me. I loved all my students and would have loved to take them home with me and really teach them. However, merely seeing them two or three hours a week did not seem very satisfying. They are all doing well and speaking now and the District asked me to return again twice. Perhaps, in January. There are many things that I would like to do.

For the present, I am preparing for Christmas, enjoying my home, teaching the Gospel Doctrine Class in Sunday School, and supporting my husband and children--a full-time job. For several years before I was called as President, I taught the Cultural Refinement lessons in Relief Society and again I taught them after I returned from Brazil. I also taught the 6-7 year olds in Junior Sunday School for a year. I have almost always been a Visiting Teacher and have enjoyed all my Church callings. They have always contributed so much more to my life than I was able to give. I love teaching the Gospel Doctrine class because it makes me dig in and learn. I appreciate the gospel more every year of my life. I am so grateful for parents who taught it to me and taught me to keep the commandments and for a husband who has guided me in righteousness.

I am very proud of my family and all their accomplishments. Wayne is now serving in the Little Rock, Arkansas Mission and doing very well. All of them are children to be proud of and have accomplished much on their own. They all have their problems, but that is how we grow. Lynn and I are happy together and looking forward to the coming years.

I did not intend that this be so long. I only hope someone will. have the desire to read it and realize that I, too, am human and that I have lived the best I could.

I have had a good life and would be content to leave it even at this point. On the other hand, I feel that there could be much ahead for me, but I don't quite know how to reach it. I am trying to overcome certain barriers which I have always felt have kept me from doing exactly what I want to do--the barriers of not enough money and not enough time (which are largely psychological now) and the lack of self-confidence, which is still very real.

I have always been a very sensitive, sensual, sympathetic, empathetic person. I feel things very deeply and have to express those feelings. I like people. I want to share everything. And yet I am still somewhat shy. I seem to have great need of attention, affection, and recognition.

Because our three girls married and left home early and I have been separated from them ever since (Cindy, psychologically, Marti and Kathy by distance), I have felt a strong masculine influence on my life. I seem to be expected to repress my feminine instincts and desires and be "one of the boys." Logic has, of necessity, played a very strong part in all my actions. This is as I would have it, up to a point, but I sometimes feel that I am never encouraged or appreciated as the "real" me.

The primary reason for this is probably the basic difference between my husband's nature and my own. Though he is very outgoing in public, he is usually quiet and somewhat withdrawn at home. He seems not to need to share everything as I do, but enjoys his quiet solitude. Neither does he require the affection which I could so willingly give him, and never has. I know that he loves me as much as it is possible for him to love and wants to love me more to please me, but it is a different kind of love than what I feel for him. I do love him very, very much and am my happiest when we are communicating, but he rarely shows enthusiasm either for or against things which are important to me. He does not feel the need to ox-press these things that I do. This basic difference, rather than our large family, has been the most difficult thing with which I have had to contend in our married life.

Never-the-less we have had a happy life together and are still very much in love. We have many, many similar likes and dislikes, the same set of standards and important goals. We both love our family dearly and would do anything possible to help them be happy. We want them with us for eternity.

I am writing all this so that hopefully my grandchildren or great grandchildren who will not have known me will read it and become acquainted. My greatest goal in life has been to be an exemplary wife and mother, a really good wife and mother, as measured by my own knowledge of what I should be, what the Lord would like me to be I feel that I have achieved that goal and am still working to be not only that, but a good 8randrnother. This #1goal has pretty much eclipsed any other goals up to this point, although I feel that I have had good balance in my life, largely through Church callings and activities. My secondary goal is to achieve some sort of recognition outside of my home, perhaps for my writing. I love to read and write. I must read and write. I hope that I may also find expression somehow for the great love I have for music, dance, and drama. We are never too old to have new experiences. I also love to learn. Perhaps I will take some classes to further my education. Being able to be in a learning situation is one of life's choice blessings.

Family will continue to be the main ingredient in my life. My husband and my children and grandchildren are my happiness. Perhaps I could leave for them some advice which I have found to be very important to happiness.

1. Have children! No matter what the world says, have several children. They are the spice of life! They can practically eliminate selfishness and bring true happiness at the same time. Family is the only really important thing in life. Teach them, love them, enjoy them!

2. Keep the commandments! The "good life" comes from being good! Wickedness, se1f-indulgence, material things do not bring happiness. Be kind, interested, honest, responsible. enthusiastic! "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." Matthew 6:33.

3. Let faith in God guide your life! He will take you by the hand and lead you if you will let him! We are His children. He loves us. He will help us through the difficult places in life if we will ask for his help.

As far back as I can remember I have always known that the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is the true gospel of Jesus Christ. For many years I did not under stand all of the doctrines or principles, (Do I now?) and I had some minor problems living some the ones I did understand. But as I became aware of each principle I have also gained a testimony of its truthfulness and have attempted to live accordingly.

I know that God our Heavenly Father lives, loves us, hears our prayers, and wants us to live so that we can return to him some day. I know that Jesus Christ is the Savior of this world, that he is literally the son of God the Father, that he died to atone for our sins and was resurrected, that Christ and the Father have bodies of flesh and bones which are immortal and perfected, and that they appeared to Joseph Smith as he knelt in prayer. I know that Joseph smith is a prophet of God, a man chosen to restore the gospel to the earth once more, that