Aunt Lollie and baby Jake

Aunt Lollie and baby Jake
I can't wait to be a Grandma!!!


Tuesday, October 15, 2013

To the mother of 2 young girls who sent them on their own to the bathroom at the mall, I was on my way to lunch with several social worker acquaintances when I saw your two little girls. They were huddled together in the elevator. The older one (about six years old) was very protective of the younger (about 4). I wanted to compliment her on what a good big sister she was but realized that may be a bit presumptuous as most little children are taught not to talk to strangers. I noticed the woman who I thought was with the little girls was not very attentive. When we all got off the elevator, I realized the woman was not with the girls as she went a separate direction. The little girls hurried to one section of the food court. They seemed to know where they were going. I have a strict policy when it comes to little children alone in public places. I do not let them out of my sight until I know for sure they are in the safe hands of their guardian. I do this for several reasons: A. I have seen one too many docudramas about children being taken from their parents and never returned or returned too late to keep them from harm B. I have lost one too many children in a public place and frantically searched for them with that sick feeling that only a parent knows oh too well C. I have seen one too many videos of children being snatched on store cameras D. I have an acquaintance whose child was raped in a men's room while she was standing outside waiting for him. D. I am a social worker and have heard about every disgusting, revolting thing creepy people are capable of when it comes to harming children E. I live in the 21st century Suffice it to say, a child will NOT be abducted on my watch. However, having been at a social worker conference (which was why I was on my way to lunch with several new social worker friends), I also am very aware of what the general public's opinion may be about social workers. To many, we are busy-body do gooders who can't seem to mind our own business. When people hear the term "social worker" they often think, "person who comes to your house to take your children away" So I realized I would need to strike a balance between protecting the innocent and minding my own business. Yes I make it my business to protect children. I followed the girls into the bathroom. If you have been to the fifth avenue mall in Anchorage you are aware that it is a very busy place. The bathrooms off the food court can be difficult to get to. There is a winding hallway that leads to them and also goes to other directions as well. A child could easily be taken down one of these back hallways and out a door. I stood in the bathroom and waited for the two little girls. They had gone into the handicapped stall and were taking turns going potty. The little one was singing to herself while she tinkled and the older one was obviously being very careful to take good care of her little sister. When they emerged from the stall (no hand washing, straight to the door) I saw that the older child had a cell phone.) I asked her where her mom was and she said she was on the phone with her. I told her I was going to make sure she got back safely to her mom. She made little eye contact with me but scurried her sister along. They went right to the elevator and got on. I followed them. There was a man on the elevator. If I had not got on with them they would have been alone with this individual. He may or may not have been an axe murderer, pedophile, pervert or any combination of the above. He may have just been a nice guy. We will never know, thankfully. I followed the little girls to where their mother was seated on a bench. There was a little boy sitting in a stroller near her. He was about a year old. She said to the six year old, "I know you were scared but you did it and everything was fine. Thank you for taking Janie to the bathroom." I introduced myself to the woman and told her I was a mother too and I just wanted to make sure her children made it back to her safely. She made little eye contact with me but mumbled a thanks. I walked away with a sinking feeling that all was not well. I thought about the situation and realized I needed to let this mother know that what she did was not safe. I had no intention of reporting her, (which I very well could have done, being mandated by law to do so) I thought of the women who were court ordered to attend the parenting class I taught. One of them almost had her seven-year-old taken away because she left him asleep in the car while she went to the grocery store. She came out to a cop car and several concerned biddies who had reported the unattended child. I realized it was my responsibility to at least say something to this woman. I returned to the bench but she was gone. I wish I would have said four words to her: NOT WORTH THE RISK Because it wasn't. For the rest of the day, far into the night and again early this morning the whole situation bothered me on many different levels. Why didn't I respond verbally? a. fear of this mother thinking I am in fact a busy body social worker there to take her children from her. b. shame and guilt because I know I have very likely done something similar with my children in the past. (There was the time I left the nine-year-old to watch the 3 year old. She fell asleep and the 3 year old (who we later discovered had mild autism) was wondering around the neighborhood on his own wearing a diaper and barney snow boots.) And then there is the fact that my own three little girls often walked home from school (the oldest was eight) when we lived in East Cleveland not far from the area where the creep kidnapped and held three young women hostage for 10 years. c. sheepishness to be the only one of the five social workers I was with to even take notice and be concerned. I was caught up in wanting to "fit in" with them and they were busy talking theories and techniques. I guess I did respond. But I wish I would have told the mother that it is NOT WORTH THE RISK If it ever happens again I will. I will tell well meaning but neglectful parents, Your six year old has the right to be protected by you. It is NOT her responsibility to be the protector right now. It doesn't matter how mature she may seem, she is still a little child herself. I know very well how desperate it feels to be the mommy of many and the temptation to allow a responsible older child to take some of the load is beyond enticing. I have done it myself! But she is vulnerable in a way that you are not. A cell phone is not an effective babysitter. What would the plan be if there was trouble? That she would let you know by screaming into the phone? And then what would you have done? Called the cops? Screamed for the oh-so-capable mall cop and his trusty ring of keys? I am attempting to analyse just why I feel so strongly about this. I know it isn't just because I have "been there done that" as a mommy and counseled other mommies who have "been there done that" and been busted for it. I guess a big part of it is that not only have I been the desperate mother in a similar situation, I have been the six-year-old expected to protect the four-year-old and completely incapable of doing so. I couldn't protect my little sister from an abusive situation. I couldn't even protect myself. I realize the reason I should have reported or at least spoke to the woman was because her six-year-old needs to know that there are people out there who believe that protecting her little sister from the world should not be her responsibility. She has a right to feel safe and protected herself. Sending children unattended to the bathroom in this day and age is equivalent to sending them swimming with sharks or hiking with wolves in past times. A CELL PHONE IS NOT AN EFFECTIVE BABYSITTER!!!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Alaska Light

Summer in Alaska is beyond a lovely sight. the only problem is just what to do with all the light. It wants to come inside and is determined as can be... it wants to be inside my room like water wants the sea. I try to block it out with curtains, blinds and black-out shades, but even if a strip of light gets in my darkness fades. I don’t want light but darkness! I’d just as soon be counting sheep. when light says, “come outside and play”, I’d rather get some sleep. I think my Savior Jesus Christ is like Alaska light. He said that we should love Him with our minds, hearts, souls and might. But there are times in every life when we sit in the dark... And are offended by the glow, from brightest flame to spark. But Jesus is determined and He glows with all His Might So each of us can see and have our share of Father’s light When I find it’s getting dark because of fear or sin All I need to do is pull the shade and let Him in. Laura Debenham

EFY and family in Arizona

Thought I would let you know about my latest adventure. I brought the kids with me (four youngest) to Arizona for my final EFY assignment of the season. We came to Arizona a couple of days early so we could hang out with the Ben Lyman fam. We went out to icecream with Benj and Amy on Saturday night. We went to church with Benj, Amy, Lori and assorted g-kids including Benson, Bronson, Jefferson and Esther. After church we had dinner with all of the above and we were joined by Jo, Rachel and their adorable baby boy Joshua...a little while after that, Daniel and his baby girl Lila came over. It was so wonderful to see everyone. I had not seen Jo since before his mission. I was surprized at my own strong reaction to seeing him. It was like I felt all the grief he must have experienced being away from home when his Dad was dying. It seem like I felt Ben's pain and joy over the obedience of his son as well. I was overwhelmed with emotion and sobbed into his shoulder for a while. The new babies are so adorable. Not so new anymore. Joshy is almost a year old...has the most adorable chubby cheeks and captivating personality. He loves to crawl around and doesn't mind being man-handled by all of his older cousins who obviously adore him. Lila is gentle and sweet. She immediately came to me and was content as long as Daddy was in the room. When he went outside to get something out of his car...she got a little grouchy until I took her to the door so she could keep an eye on her Daddy. Dan obviously adores his little girl. Her curls are enchanting and she is cuddly as can be. Little Esther is a pistol. (Keep in mind she is the youngest in a family of brothers) She refuses to be held by anyone but her Mom or Dad and only if it is her idea. She is smart as a whip and likes to play keep away from Aunt Lollie and Mommy around the Hotel swimming pool...freaking us out by her nimble little body coming a bit too close to falling in. We swam with Amy and her kids Monday morning and then took off for Tucson. EFY outdid itself this trip and put us up in one of the nicest Marriot resorts I have ever stayed at...complete with a lazy river and water slide. I would post pictures but of course my camera is broken so you will simply have to take my word for it when I say all those children are adorable and the scenery in Tucson and Gilbert is actually quite lovely. We hit during the Monsoon...what luck!!! Temperatures only around 90! Speaking at EFY is always a pleasure. It was fun to make the audience laugh and even more rewarding to lift their spirits and challenge them to be kinder, more forgiving and believe in themselves. I am so blessed to lead this life.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Debenham Doings

Just thought I would fill everybody in on what is going on at my house...

...boys are in mourning that the Reinhards decided to stay in Provo for Turkeyday...but their grief is lessened by the fact that Sierra appeared in all her shlepped-from-Provo-to-St. George-to-Vegas-on-the-shuttle glory last night. She quickly had us all in stitches and kept the boys up til way past their bedtime hacking Mom's facebook page.

Doug is coming to terms with Lila bringing home a boy for Thanksgiving. His name is David. They just met. She says it isn't serious at all, he just needs a place to go for t-day as his family is all in North Carolina. Doug is the dad who finds it difficult to believe there is a boy on the planet wonderful enough for any of his daughters...let alone the youngest. He has taken to calling the poor kid, "Hippie".

Lollie is contemplating the virtues of serving a pregnant turkey two years in a row. Of course, everybody will be in on the joke except the poor new kid. Brennan has proactively requested the honor of being in charge of the bird. Mom may have to roast a cornish game hen in secret and stealthfully slip it in the cavity when Bren isn't looking. How much basting does a pomegranite glazed turkey need? He'll have to tinkle some time.

Thanksgiving is an important holiday any year but somehow it doesn't seem quite as wonderful as DECEMBER 8TH!!! Upon which ospitious date the elusive sister Rachael will return to the realm in which her mama can actually SPEAK TO HER!!!

Yes I have a burning testimony. I also have missed my baby like crazy. How on earth does God expect women to haul their children around for 9 tourturous months, do everything remotely possible for them for 18 years, if they are daughters...experience a friendship like no other from the moment they hit maturity (which for Rach was about 4 1/2) and then NOT EVEN TALK TO HER FOR 18 MONTHS? I believe I have handled it rather well. I only break down in sobs and curl up in a fetal position twice a week.

Her talk-in-church-no-longer-to-be-referred-to-as-homecoming-address will be December 18. I expect every last one of you to attend. Bring chocolate.

I can't really think of anything else of interest. Sam's latest book has an intreging title. "Vampire Baby". It is beyond hilarious.

Bren and Em have been house hunting in our neck of the woods. It is completely unfair to get a Lollie Mama's hopes up...but they are doing it. Hope springs eternal for mommies.

So far I have one christmas tree up. I have two more in storage and Sierra insists we get a real one too. I plan on thouroughly enjoying having all eight of my children home for Christmas!!!!!

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Grandma LouElla Jones Bronson Verses Grandma Agnes Anderson Lyman

I love them both. I didn't know either of them. Not fair to ask which is my fav. The differences are many. For example, Grandma Agnes had to lie in bed for nine months to produce a healthy baby. Even then, if she didn't lie flat, she would miscarry. Grandpa Lyman gets pretty testy in his memoir when he tells the story of a Relief Society woman who comes over to give Agnes direction for her calling (which she didn't need, according to G-pa), and talks to her for over an hour. Agnes sits up in bed out of respect for the woman who thought she was important...said G-pa. She lost the baby later that day. Grandpa said, "she lost her treasure".

Treasuring children is something both of my Grandmas had in common. Agnes planned to have ten. Only succeeded in giving birth to five who lived past babyhood.

I can't even imagine LouElla sitting up in bed for anyone. I guess that is the biggest difference I see from reading about them. However, Agnes was married to a much stronger willed man than she was. I can guess that George was the one to give in to LouElla while Agnes played the peacemaker role for Leo.

I'm sure they are all peeking over my shoulder and shaking their heads at their silly granddaughters interpretation of who they are. I like to imagine them with me. I like to think (and hope) I am strong enough to stand up for myself when I need to and to give in to others when they need it more.

How awesome it is to discover their writing at the same time! I'm getting to know both of them. They already know me.

The First Few Servings of Hash by LouElla Jones Bronson

By Lou Ella J. Bronson

(Note from Laura Lyman Debenham: I found another page of columns which I believe were miss labeled. One has a question mark and another has no date at all. I think whoever dated these columns – very likely my mother, as the hand writing looks like hers – put ’38 when she meant ’36. I could be wrong. I have been before. I will be again. However, when reading the content of the columns it makes sense to presume that they were at the beginning of Grandma’s writing for this paper which would coinside with 1936 rather than 1938.)

March 27, 1936 (I assume this was one of Grandma's first pieces for the paper, written before she was hired to write the weekly column)

Water is so plentiful in the roads at certain points at Moulton that a flock of ducks has been making regular visits here the past week or two. So well do the ducks seem to enjoy the novelty of swimming in the road that passing motorists are almost upon them before they rise and fly away.
Last week a deer was seen near the road down the Birch creek canyon and a few days later a coyote was surprised standing in the middle of the road in the same locality. As the high rock wall of the canyon was on one side and the creek bed on the other side of the road, Mr. Coyote showed almost human intelligence by dodging back and forth in front of the car till he almost got run down by the auto – before he disappeared in the thick growth of brush along the roadside.
On three consecutive evening recently two rainbows have formed complete arches across the eastern sky. Could anything more beautiful than those gorgeous colors be imagined?

Sometime between March 3, 1936 and October 9, 1938 (6)

Moulton Brevities
Friends of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Herbold were pleased to hear of the arrival of a seven and a half pound daughter at the home of our former teacher in Decio.
County Superintendent Florence Haight visited the Moulton school Tuesday. She recommended some improvements which are badly needed in the school building.
Charles Augestine, a former resident and a notable bachelor, has been visiting here recently.
Many of our people have left for the potato and beet harvest on the flat.
October 9, 1938 (6)
One day being in a restaurant and thinking something unusual would be a delightful change, I ordered Hungarian goulash. To my surprise it turned out to be just plain American hash and a rather inferior hash at that. The incident taught me that things do not change because of a fancy name and that I should know enough to order what I really want. Hence the name of this column, which is to consist of items on various subjects, will be Hash without any fancy additions.
How many people know that the old immigrant road crosses the Junction valley from the Immigrant canyon on the east to the Granite pass on the Southwest? This old road is still plainly visible and its route proves that those old timers knew at least one axiom of geometry: that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. A deep indentation in the present road is the only sign left showing where the old road crosses the new. A suitable marker at this spot might read: this bump is to jog your memory concerning the hardships your pioneer ancestors endured that you might ride in luxurious cars on these good (?) roads.
Speaking of roads one of our mail carriers says the latest thing in road engineering can be found just south of Oakley, where one has a choice of four different roads on a certain hill. He says he has tried all four and not one of them has anything that tempts him to take it again.
By the way, I should think the road south of Oakley would be a good place for our county officials to conduct at least a part of their campaign for election or re-election of office this fall.

October 16, 1936 (8)

Mountains with their rugged strength and beauty always give me a feeling of exaltation combined with a sense of security. The skyline of our little valley at night is one of the most beautiful scenes imaginable. The mountains seem to draw near and stand like sentinels till day returns.
The poet who said, “the meadow lark now croons a sadder lay.” Must have heard the lovely singers in the autumn. Though their songs are just as sweet, the sadness comes from knowing that the charming melodies will not be heard again until the birds return to herald the arrival of spring.
Airplanes which fly over our heads during the spring, summer and autumn have created a pleasant diversion. They have a strange attraction for me, and even the skeptic who thinks flying would be all right if he could keep one foot on the ground, looks as if he could be persuaded to take a ride, without too much coaxing.
Plowing time! Don’t’ you must love to see a freshly plowed field? It seems symbolic to me: all the useless weeds recovered, and the farmer plants only the crop he wants to grow. If he can keep those weeds from growing his field is beautiful and much more valuable.

October ? (likely 23), 1936 (8)
My sympathy is with some of the weary travelers who going over these terrible roads lose their way and have to return about 8 or 10 miles to the nearest ranch to inquire the way; only to find that when they finally do get on the right road it’s worse than the wrong one.
It has been almost impossible lately to pick up a paper or listen to the radio without hearing the name of tetown of Ipswich in England. Hearing it so much I caught myself humming the chorus of a song which was on one of those old cylindrical phonograph records years ago. It would probably be popular with some of the hundreds of reporters who were frantically trying to get the Simpson case to their papers over the phones.

It goes like this:
“Which switch is the switch Miss for Ipswich?
It’s the Ipswich switch which I desire.
Which switch switches Ipswich with this switch?
You’ve switched my switch on the wrong wire,
You’ve switched me on Northwick not Ipswich.
And now, to prevent further hitch,
If you’ll tell me which swithch is Northwich and which switch is Ipswich
Then I’ll know which switch is which.

Monday, October 3, 2011

More of Grandma's Column...Here's LouElla Jones Bronson

At this point Grandma begins to call herself L.J.B. Hill Billy Reporter:

Foothill Fact and Fancies

December 23, 1937
A gentleman from Twin Falls with the mineral interests of this country at heart was prospecting on some of the property northeast of here recently. He found, however, that snow is more plentiful than gold, or whatever he was looking for, so will have to make a more extensive examination of the region in the spring.
Ernie Sparks, mayor of City of Rocks, is probably the only mayor of a large city in the United States who has no housing problem to contend with.
If Charley Johnston’s dude ranch should materialize when and (must we still say if?), we get a highway, he might easily have some competition, as there are a dozen ranches in the region that would be ideal for the purpose. There is the Immigrant Station ranch, owned and operated by Joe Moon who is known to be a sticker. Then there’s the Circle ranch, at present unoccupied but nevertheless a fine location for such a business. The City of Rocks ranch, operated by the city’s enterprising mayor, could easily furnish considerable competition. The Bronson ranch on the Lyman summit is ideally located; and in the same locality is the old Lyman place, operated by that competent cowpuncher and rider, Gib Lee. Mr. Johnston still has the edge on the others, however, as he owns one place in Emery canyon and another in Immigrant canyon adjacent to the Moon ranch. If all these places should choose to run, there would doubtless be plenty of positions open for prospective guides. There might be work for the Oakley Valley chamber of commerce getting sufficient heiresses to be guided.
At the Moulton school’s Christmas program there was the other thing that was nearly as interesting as the school kid’s presentation of the Christmas story in pantomime. That was Roy Eames’ effective use of the sign language.
Merry Christmas, everybody!

January 6, 1938
Joseph Millard is buying the ranch owned by his father, the Baron. By adding this estate to his own, Joe will have one of the prettiest farms in the valley. Since it is located against the western foothills, He (illegible) the first to show the welcome again of spring. It is one of the few places in this part of our community where the hard work and perseverance of the owners has erected a monument of trees. If Mr. and Mrs. Millard have gained by their change of residence, the advantage has been well earned.
Two boys with one horse and a pair of skis can have a lot of fun, if one is to judge by “Bud” McBride and Reid Fairchild. These boys are getting out the winters wood and the skiing is by way of recreation. It does seem that we have some advantages, doesn’t it?
This is a secret, but any woman will tell you that a secret is quite useless if it is untold: The North Enders intend to challenge the South Enders for a rabbit hunt in the near future. Believe me folks, them boys mean business! Watch this column for further particulars, and look out bunnies!
A Thwart Maybe
It looks as though the New Year is to be ushered in with a January thaw. That ought to be Illegal, no we will need to have two thaws this January to pay for the one we missed last year.
(Illegible) of Preventive – for (illegible)
LaMar Bronson was awarded the contract for supplying ten cords of wood to the school district. Glenn Webb is helping LaMar to get the wood out. This big pile of fuel is supposed to keep the “absent minded professor” reminded that we really have winter in the foothills.
New Crop
Chester Bullers always a believer in diversification in his farming, expects to reap a new crop in 1938. If his present developments are successful, this year should bring him a harvest of silver and perhaps other minerals. Mr. Bullers mine is some distance west of his home here.

January 13, 1938
Joe Moon has been staying in Burley for the past few weeks with his wife who is ill. During his absence, Walt is protecting the home place, the old Stage Station, from the ghosts of the Redskins.
The Wrights have moved into the Trunkey house, thus shortening the distance to school by about five miles.
At a party last Friday night at Lynn, Bishop Vance O. Lind gave a laughable impersonation of Major Bowes. Those on whom he called to take part on the program turned out to be typical amateurs.
Ray Bates is wearing a broad grin these days at the thoughts of still being able to carry the mail by car. It’s only fair to warn Ray that this may be only the proverbial calm before the storm, so he can get himself braced for the blizzard that’s bound to come sooner or later.

January 20, 1938
When we went to Oakley on Thursday of last week the general thaw had made the roads so slippery that the trip down Birch creek canyon resembled a ride on one of those whip concerns at a carnival. About the only difference being that it was far more exciting because of the danger of sliding off the grade into the canyon below. Warm as it was, one would hardly enjoy a ducking.
Simon Baker waited one day too long to return home from his latest trip to town. Rain and snow had made the roads so bad that he broke his car down by the Ivan Holt pasture. Although Molly and the twins, Barbara and Kathleen, had to wait for four hours or more while Simon went for help they were still cheerful. Funny how much some folks can go through and still be optimistic.
Artie Bronson of Almo and Mrs. Sara Boden of View were visiting relatives here Sunday. They too had difficulty in making the trip on account of the snow. They were able to return to Almo Monday morning.

January 27, 1938
The boss seems to enjoy a fight. Anyway no one else could get near the radio during that hugging match between Jimmy Braddock and Tommy Farr on Friday night.
Earl Whiteley of Oakley must be a bit of a philanthropist. He deserted his warm fireside and faced the misery one meets on a trip to Lynn to make life more cheery for some of the natives of the foothills. He is installing a wind charger and accessories at the Curtis Nelson home.
Our cats and pigeons are staging quite a contest. We can’t decide whether to kill the cats and save their hides or kill the pigeons to save their lives.
Theo Martindale who is staying at Lynn to help the mail carrier, had to make a trip to Oakley this week to bring back one of their horses that had gotten homesick.
When in Burley recently I felt pretty much at home when some large tumble weeds rolled leisurely down Main street. Another thing which kept me from being lonesome for our own hill country was the fact that three big coyotes just south of town stood and watched us without signs of fear.
Mrs. Ida Moon, wife of Joseph R. Moon, who had been ill for more than a year, passed away at her daughter’s home in Burley, Wednesday, January 19. The funeral was held in the Presbyterian church in Burley, Sunday, January 23. There were a few people from Moulton at the funeral. Mrs. Moon with her friendly, sympathetic manner had endeared herself to all with whom she associated. It is said of her that no day ever passed in which she did not perform some kind act.

February 3, 1938
During this unusual winter the mail carrier has used a sleigh only once I think. The remainder of the time he has gone with a car. This is quite different from his experience last winter when at this time of year he had to get assistance to break a trail to enable him to go with a pack horse.
There has been a large number of absences from school during the past month due to illness. Every one of the thirteen pupils has had his turn at missing school for two or three or a week. Maybe thirteen is an unlucky number.
The Kirkpatricks and Fred Taylor have bought the Bill Merril property here. This includes the Lorin Hendricks place last year and will probably move there in the spring.
Unless the groundhog is blind he will surely see his shadow today (February 2), which is supposed to mean that there will be six more weeks of winter. That won’t be so bad if it’s the kind of winter we’ve been having.
A man from here was talking to one of the gentlemen who had some say-so about roads. “why don’t you do some work on the Birch creek road?” he asked. “Say,” was the answer, “if we had all the money we’ve put on that blankaty-blank, we could have several good roads other places.”
“Well,” replied the greenhorn from the foothills, “if you had put the three thousand dollars that was used to build that atrocity you call a road through Emery canyon, on the Birch creek cow trail, you might have a road there.”

February 10, 1938
We were supposed to be in Burley at 1:00 p.m. to fulfill an appointment, so left home at 10:30 a.m., assuming that would give us plenty of time. “You don’t need chains on this frozen ground.” Advised a kindly friend. We had the pleasure of putting them on in a fifty mile an hour blizzard on the Lyman summit. From there on for about a mile the snow is badly drifted in the roads. We arrived at our destination at 3:00 o’clock. A sign in the office read “Do not stay long. We are very busy,” therefore we cut out call to two and a half hours.
Since the wind has been blowing steadily from the south and southeast for about a week the dry farmers are looking for the storm when it breaks to be a good one. The burning question is; Will we have enough snow to supply moisture for the crops next summer? There is time enough yet.
Can artesian wells be obtained in Junction valley? This question has often been asked. Many people think there is every indication of it, but no one with enough money and faith too has appeared on the scene to prove the theory. One man when asked what he would do with a million dollars if he had it said he would invest it here to build up the country and he felt sure he would double his money. We hope he soon gets the million.
During the past few days from one to three cars have been making the trip to Oakley daily—an indication that the roads are improving. If it’s so that it’s impossible for anything to stand still without either advancing or retrograding, they would simply have to improve.

February 24, 1938
James Rufus Wright, twelve year old son of Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Wright, who died in Burley recently, was a native of the Junction valley. Rufus Wright is a typical southerner and Ethel Sease Wright, Jimmy’s mother, was born in the west. The hospitality of the south and west is confirmed in their home, and it was in such an atmosphere that their son grew.
Jimmy was a cheerful lad and, in spite of the illness he had for a long time he made no complaint, going to school almost till the last. A good conversationalist, he could talk equally well with old or young. He was a youngster with vision and had great hopes for the valley that was his home. The grownup friends of the family who knew him all pronounced him a fine, promising young boy, while among his schoolmates and other friends his age, the verdict is unanimous, “he was a swell kid.”
The funeral was held at the Johnson funeral parlors at Burley, Wednesday, February 16. Speakers were William Barrett of Malts, President Charles S. Clark of the Cassia Stake, and George W. Bronson. Music was furnished by a quartet of Oakley people—Mrs. Bertha Severe, Mrs. Clarissa Rice, George Butler and Grant Severe—and a trip of his schoolmates, the Bronson girls. The quartet sang “My Father Knows” and “I Have Heard of a Land.” The trio sang “nearer, My God, to Thee” and “The Vacant Chair.” Interment was in the Burley cemetery.
Jimmy is survived by his parents and one sister, Edna Mae. There was a large attendance of relatives, friends and former neighbors at the funeral.

March 3, 1938
Hazel Millard was telling of an occasion when she visited at Kelton. “I’ve never seen that place,” says I. “If you want to see it.: remarked Mother Bronson, “you’d better go before they have another earthquake, or there won’t be anything to see.”

Foothill folks have been getting up in the middle of the night the past week or two when they were going places. Reason: The ground freezes at night and they aim to get wherever they’re going and back home before it has time to thaw in the morning.
No need to get alarmed and call out the fire department if you see smoke pouring out of the “teacherage” these days. Jerry is merely doing his own cooking while his wife visits her folks in Twin Falls for a couple of weeks.
It is a tragic fact that every spring hundreds of streamlets carry acres and acres of our fertile mountain soil into creek and river beds. The water itself mostly runs to waste so early in the year. I feel like paraphrasing the famous words of King Richard to read “A reservoir, a reservoir—a kingdom for a reservoir!”
George and LaMar went to Almo to join Artie and Wesley and Clyde to complete the Bronson Brothers’ orchestra on Washington’s birthday. They played for a successful character ball at Elba that night.
Joe Millard’s mule team express is one sure means of transportation these days. They carried Mr. and Mrs. Joe and boys to the Daniel Beus ranch recently to bargain for some hay.
With mud practically to his hubs, Ray Bates doesn’t know whether to hope he gets the mail contract for the ensuing four years or to pray that some other poor fellow is the victim. Well, here’s mud in the eye of whoever gets it.
Bishop Vance Lind and family are visiting in California where everything is supposed to be of the very best Even their floods are presumably superior to the Idaho brand. We hope the bishop’s folks can swim.

March 10, 1938
It has been suggested that if the woolgrowers exterminate the coyote, they should also destroy the jack rabbit. The coyote has the one redeeming virtue, that of killing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of these pests while if the jack rabbit has any good traits, I should like to hear about it.
One day not long ago a young man was out hunting rabbits when he found two traps not far apart. The jaws of each held fast in their grip the skeleton of a coyote. A gruesome picture indeed, but a mute testimony of the heartlessness, or maybe just carelessness, of some trapper.
There is still enough frost in the ground to keep the farmers from plowing, but not enough to make the roads fit for travel.
Rufus Wright moved his belongings from the Trunkey place this week. His daughter Edna will be unable to continue in school because of poor health.
The Moulton school plans to beautify the school grounds this spring with trees, shrubs and flowers. This is to be a project of the Good Will club.

March 17, 1938
“Back to School” week is being featured at Moulton this week. Parents and sponsors are invited to attend school all day on Thursday and participate in classes with the youngsters. They are advised however not to try any of the pranks and practical jokes they used to play on their teachers and each other when they were kids. The prof. may know some of those old-fashioned punishments like standing on one leg for half an hour or heavy history book in each hand for the same length of time holding both arms extended with a heavy history book in each hand.
A young man made an effort to get to Almo to take a gal to the dance last Friday night but found the roads too difficult. He tried to console himself with the thought that “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” but he kept adding “Yeah. Of the other fellow.”
Weather prophets claim that because birds are nesting a month earlier than usual a hot dry summer will surely follow. The only comforting thought one can get out of this is that weather prophets are nearly always wrong.
This was in a theme on health recently in school. The organs of indigestion are as follows: (nothing more)

March 24, 1938
On St. Patrick’s Day there was a good attendance of parents and other visitors at the school. The children put on a puppet show for their entertainment entitled, “Three Meals Shorten the Day.” Appearing on the playground and taking part in the games was compulsory. After a few such games as Dare Base there seemed to be an epidemic of rheumatism among the population for a few days. Appropriate songs, poems and Irish jokes were part of the program which ended with refreshments both Irish and American.
We made a trip to Oakley and Burley last week end. Going down the Birch creek canyon and returning by way of Albion, Elba and Almo. This trip should qualify one to direct at least a part of traffic in and out of Junction. The Birch creek road was very rough from being frozen and cut up badly. We had some difficulty over the Albion-Elba road, should have gone around by Malts. The road from Almo past the Old Stage Station ranch was not as bad as we expected. Anyway I hope we can stay home till the roads are better and would advise others to do likewise if possible.
We are just now getting a taste of our long delayed winter, with snow falling nearly every day. It was thought that this could be remembered as the winter of a single blizzard but that hope is shattered now.

March 31, 1938
Four people from Burley, no doubt wishing to be the first visitors of the season to the famous Rock City, made the trip last Sunday. They started with two cars but had to leave one stuck in the mud on the divide. It pays to advertise, only if the good can be delivered. The unfavorable comment on the bad roads to our renowned city will be likely to offset all the good things that can be said of the scenic wonderland. There is only one way that a journey to City of Rocks at this time of year can really be enjoyed—that is by horseback. This I think is the ideal method to use at any time.
A group of Moultonites went to the home of Joe Moon on Sunday evening and held a cottage meeting, for the purpose of cheering up the owner and occupant of the Stage Station ranch. R. Moon has a picturesque place in a good location. He is doing some painting and making other improvements this spring.
Chester Bullers has been doing quite a lot of work on his mining claims during the winter. Much of the work has been of a preparatory nature, such as making buildings, improving roads, by way of getting ready for a big campaign next fall and winter. Chester feels that the mine is promising.
Little Shirley Taylor is getting to be a big girl now. She celebrated her third birthday anniversary Saturday by being guest of honor at a party given by her mother, Mrs. Fred Taylor. Several little friends helped her set her pretty birthday cake with lots of ice cream.

April 7, 1938
A number of cars have gone to town from the foothills this week. The way folks take my advice about staying at home until roads improve, reminds me of two fellows who had lost some horses—not too far from here. They stopped to ask one of their neighbors if he had seen them. “Why yes.” He said, “they’re right down in that patch of willows,” indicating a place about a mile or two away. As they were leaving, the older of the two men turned his horse in the opposite direction. “Hey,” called his companion, “you’re going the wrong way,”
“Oh no, I’m not” was the answer. “If we go in the opposite direction to what Bill says, we’re sure to find the horses.” And believe it or not, they found them.
The way cream is dropping in price lately makes the farmers in this neck of the woods wonder if it’s because they have more of it to sell this year than usual. One of them was asked, “do you make a good profit from your cow?”
“I barely break even, “ answered the farmer.
“Then why the dickens do you keep so many?”
“Well, they give me a lot of good outdoor exercise."
The first day of April is a poor date for a party, it was decided by the students and teacher. Everybody, thinking it was an April fool’s joke, stayed at home. As there were plenty of refreshments on hand, it’s a question as to who got fooled—those who went to the party or those who stayed away.
Daniel Hues has brought a herd of his sheep into the Junction Valley. They’re lucky to have good sheepskin coats. They’ll need ‘em!
Moultonians listened to the broadcast of the general conference of the L.D.S. church Sunday at the school house.

April 14, 1938
According to Carl McBride who came up from Oakley with some friends, the roads are not as bad as they have been reported. Carl says he will be needing beet thinners in case he has any beets.
A Mr. and Mrs. Jones of Twin Falls visited City of Rocks Tuesday. They consider it superior in scenic beauty to many of America’s widely advertised attractions.
We made a trip to Burley last week end, going by way of Almo. We met quite a few interesting people in Burly: businesslike and sometimes rather impatient county officials and rather impatient county officials; sad employees; polite but slightly contemptuous bank clerks; a judge with words of encouragement; busy doctors; courteous clerks and dozens of other. We drove up to a service station and a young man proceeded to shine up our windows. It’s hard to decide why he took so much time: was it because our glass was very mud splashed, or did the fact that we had one of our daughters in the back seat have anything to do with it? We attended a public land sale in which there seemed to be very little interest, but quite a lot of principal. We saw several of our friends and neighbors from the foothills. I heard a lady remark to another, “My but I’m tired!” I’d rather do a washing than spend a day in town!”
I’d bet my shoes that she was from the country too, because I felt much the same way. We finally arrived home on foot, having to abandon our car in a mud hole a mile away. The walk wasn’t bad but the creek we had to cross was swollen by the spring run-off and woman-like, in attempting to jump across I landed right in the middle. Oh well! We’ve been to town anyway—but thank goodness we’re back home!
April 28, 1938
Joseph Millard aged two years old, narrowly escaped drowning last week when he fell into Cottonwood creek near the Millard home. Young Henry, age three and a half, ran toward the house screaming and their mother, who was working in the yard, rushed down to the creek and went in after the baby who had risen to the surface. At that point the water was about two and a half feet deep, very muddy, and ice cold—flowing as it does from snowdrifts nearby. It took the mother nearly half an hour to resuscitate the little fellow.
We know it is spring when myriads of stink bugs come from goodness knows where. When flies, ants and other insects start to making a nuisance of themselves. When we go out to dig in the garden and find millions of wire worms just beneath the surface. (One of our neighbors says these wire worms are one stage in the life cycle of the stink bug, the length of which is seven years. So it looks as if there will be no noticeable decrease in the stink bug population for a while. We realize it’s spring when the farmer, having had a hard time getting his machinery ready to plant his crop finally gets started only to have it commence to pour down the rain. When lambs, calves, chickens or pigs arrive on the only day that there is a blizzard. When the cows going on the grass seed pull up a root of (illegible) or other poison, or some of them get into the alfalfa patch and bloat up like a balloon. When the milk at night has the delicate aroma of wild onions we know that at last it is spring!
George went out to look for some bailing wire (sometimes called Mormon buckskin). After searching for about an hour he decided there was none on the place. After dark as he came toward the house there was a crash that made me think we were having another earthquake. What’s the matter?” I yelled, running outside.
“Nothing!” was the answer, “Only
April 28, 1938
Joseph Millard aged two years old, narrowly escaped drowning last week when he fell into Cottonwood creek near the Millard home. Young Henry, age three and a half, ran toward the house screaming and their mother, who was working in the yard, rushed down to the creek and went in after the baby who had risen to the surface. At that point the water was about two and a half feet deep, very muddy, and ice cold—flowing as it does from snowdrifts nearby. It took the mother nearly half an hour to resuscitate the little fellow.
We know it is spring when myriads of stink bugs come from goodness knows where. When flies, ants and other insects start to making a nuisance of themselves. When we go out to dig in the garden and find millions of wire worms just beneath the surface. (One of our neighbors says these wire worms are one stage in the life cycle of the stink bug, the length of which is seven years. So it looks as if there will be no noticeable decrease in the stink bug population for a while. We realize it’s spring when the farmer, having had a hard time getting his machinery ready to plant his crop finally gets started only to have it commence to pour down the rain. When lambs, calves, chickens or pigs arrive on the only day that there is a blizzard. When the cows going on the grass seed pull up a root of (illegible) or other poison, or some of them get into the alfalfa patch and bloat up like a balloon. When the milk at night has the delicate aroma of wild onions we know that at last it is spring!
George went out to look for some bailing wire (sometimes called Mormon buckskin). After searching for about an hour he decided there none on the place. After dark as he came toward the house there was a crash that made me think we were having another earthquake. What’s the matter?” I yelled, running outside.
“Nothing!” was the answer, “Only that I found that wire I was looking for this morning.”

May 5, 1938
If “See America First” is a good slogan, “See Your Own County First” should be a better one. Many people living almost at the gates of City of Rocks know very little about it. We decided that if this wonderland is worth making a trip across the continent to see, surely we should make an effort to visit it more often ourselves. Whereupon we used Mary Lou’s birthday as an excuse to journey through and gaze upon its magic scenes. The fresh odor of mahogany and pine after a gentle shower was exhilarating and the view from the Emery canyon road above the Circle ranch alone is worth many times the sacrifice one might have made in taking the excursion. It’s easy to understand why people who, when on their way into the City of Rocks, sometimes sarcastically inquire why we live in what they choose to call this “godforsaken” country, never repeat the question after they have seen that enchanted area. We ourselves renewed an often affirmed resolution to see Cassia county first—and often.
After going through Emery canyon, I feel that there is no necessity for me to apologize for any statements either made or quoted by me as to the condition of the road. It’s terrible! It was a relief when we arrived on the freshly graded Birch creek road—something like waking up after having had a nightmare.
The Oakley highway officials gave the Birch creek road a much needed beauty treatment when sent the grader over the road last week. The improvement is immense.
On looking out of her window on the north, Mrs. Ernest Sparks discovered another of the hundreds of marvels of the City of Rocks. On the face of the hill, formed by the white granite rocks and outlined by the cedars, is a large white horse with a pack on its back. It may be a sheep-herder’s or a prospector’s nag, or perhaps the brown saddle bags hold the famous and much sought gold that is said to have been hidden in the rock city. Anyway, it’s interesting to look at and might furnish treasure seekers a new and logical place to search.
Miss Mary Sparks is recovering from a recent operation in the L.D.S. hospital at Salt Lake City.

May 12, 1938
J.R. Stowers received a letter this week from a cousin in Iowa, who had lived with his (Mr. Stowers) father’s family as a child and whom he had not seen or heard from for seventy three years. Mr. And Mrs. Stowers were visiting at the Millard home.
A good soaking rain accompanied by some hail came to the rescue of the foothill dry farmers on Monday.
Karl McBride and Leonard Hunter, who have been staying at the McBride ranch for a while, have almost established a permanent business: that of pulling cars out of the mud, mostly in Emery canyon. So far Leonard hasn’t needed to use any of his magic to supply mud holes enough to keep them busy.
The annual influx of sheep herds is nearly at its height, although the lateness of the season has caused some flock owners to delay their arrival later than usual.
The mothers in the hills received the customary deference and honor on Mother’s day. Special meetings and programs formed a major part of the day’s activities. All the mothers survived the shock and were able to go about their work as usual on Monday.
Mr. and Mrs. Roy Eames and children and Mrs. Julia Eames were callers at the teacher’s home Sunday evening.
Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Hoden, Miss Barbara Boden and David Boden were among the guests at the home of Mrs. Laura Bronson on Mother’s day.

No date given but sometime between May 12 and June 9, 1937. Probably June 19th or 26th
The visit of Governor Barzilla W. Clark to the City of Rocks on Tuesday was something of an event in the lives of the foothill folks. Republicans and Democrats alike forgetting politics for once joined to greet him and to help boost for a common cause. The large crowd that met at Register Rock was a typical country gathering. There were farmers, merchants, housewives, school teachers, truck drivers, cow punchers, sheep herders, a bishop an editor, a stake president; and many other occupations were no doubt represented. The governor’s speech showed that he is in favor of developing our scenic attractions to the utmost. One bit of his wisdom could well be remembered: “If we all get behind this thing and push, we can make something out of it.”
It was really amusing to see the road workers hustling to get the roads in shape for the governor’s party. They ran the grader—in fact they had two graders out—put in a culvert and fixed it all up fine. It reminded me of the way our kids go to work when they see us coming over the ridge. Anyway they did an excellent job of improving the roads which are now in better shape than they’ve been for years. Joe Millard probably expressed all our sentiments when he said “Hurrah for the governor! I hope he comes to visit us every other week.”
Miss Mary Sparks while convalescing from a major operation in Salt Lake City fell over a stove door, injuring her legs severely, Blood poisoning set in and it was feared for a while that amputation would be necessary. That danger has passed now however and she is on the high road to recovery. Mary will be unable to return home for at least two months yet. She is staying with friends at 210 Pueblo street.
For the first time in years a pair of pheasants was observed in the Junction valley at Moulton. We hope they increase until there is a large flock.
It now appears that this may be a year when pine nuts are plentiful. If so, there should be enough for all who came to come and get them. If there were only some way to stop those unscrupulous folks who bring an ax, along to chop down the largest and finest trees because they are too lazy to climb all would be well. I suggest a good heavy application of pine gum in their hair for punishment.

June 9, 1938
A couple of young fellows were traveling up Birch creek canyon in a roadster after their thirst had been more or less quenched in town. On the grade along by the Howell ranch, they missed the road slightly and their car rolled down the embankment into the willows and brush below. Although the top of their car and the windshield were smashed as flat as a pancake the boys came out without a scratch. In fact they were apparently improved by the shock.
Following the lead of several hundred other Cassia and Box Elder county folks, we went to Grouse Creek on Thursday to attend the funeral and pay our respects to the family of that fine old gentleman, Bishop David A. Toyn. The great crowd and beautiful flowers were tributes to his memory, and showed the love and esteem in which he was held. Two of the speakers at the funeral were from Oakley, being among that village’s most stalwart citizens. They were William T. Harper and Hogn L. Smith, both of whom are said to be octogenarians: the appearance and ability of each belles this fact, however. The other speaker, Herman Taylor of Almo, was a lifelong friend of the deceased and is son of the man who crossed the ocean on the same ship with Bishop Toyn. The Cemetary in Grouse Creek, where burial was made, has one of the best locations for such a place that I have seen. Though it already looks fairly good it could be made one of the most attractive cemeteries in the west.
Padeen Sherry is visiting at her father’s home in the Cotton Thomas basin for a while. She has been painting and improving the house before she returns to Brigham. Says Tommy, “What th’ell does a woman want to pain a house for unless she’s going to live in it?”
May 26, 1938
A group of youngsters calling themselves the Live Five started a commendable enterprise when they went to the cemetery on Memorial day and did what they could to improve the plot and decorate the long neglected graves there. The adults of our community would do well to follow their example and continue the good work at home as well as in public places
When Robert Bronson, aged seven years, was getting ready to milk his cow, he observed: “I don’t think I’d better wear my cap. The cow gives more milk when I wear my old blue hat.”
The Wrigleys have returned to their ranch at Moulton after spending the winter at Woodrow on Rufus Wright’s place.
Crops are looking fine here in the foothills and if the farmers get all the rain they want or ask for, there should be some bumper crops of both hay and grain this year.
Since farming has become the most dangerous occupation, it behooves all of us to try to be careful. Idaho no doubt had its share of the 100,000 accidents that occurred on American farms last year. There is too much high-powered machinery these days, operated by quack mechanics with more confidence than judgment. As yet, science has found no way to replace life or limbs, so don’t take chances on losing them until such a discovery is made.
Vacationists are taking advantage of the improved roads to the City of Rocks. Already there is quite a steady stream of traffic which shows the trend of public opinion. After a while if we could get a senator to visit the region, maybe they would bring a sprinkler up to lay the dust. It may be worth trying.
Mr. and Mrs. Gene Slater made a trip to Oakley Tuesday in their little valley there are at least four or five Model T’s which, according to the population, may be something of a record. Owners of the model T consider it the most (illegible) use and although some of them have other cars, they are still able to find plenty of work for Lizzie.

June 16, 1938
While waiting for the construction of reservoirs and dams by the government for irrigation purposes the farmers were grateful for a couple of showers that fell this week to encourage their crops to grow.
Most of the sheep in this neck of the woods have been sheared; so now instead of being beautiful but dumb they’re just plain dumb.
The Grouse Creek orchestra came over to Lynn to make music for a big hoedown on Tuesday night.
Our staid and practical mail carrier, Ray Bates, has turned romantic and acquired a very charming wife recently. Now we don’t know whether to call this a star route or a honeymoon route.
The trustees of the Moulton school district have hired Floyd Leavitt to teach next term.
Harry Eames, who taught here last school year, has the position of principal of a school at or near Preston.
Mr. and Mrs. Albert Herbold of Paul called on friends here Sunday. Herb was “the professor” here for three years.

June 23, 1938
O Sunday morning a heavy fog enshrouded the valley. It was preceded by a frost which nipped the early gardens, in some cases nearly ruining them. Some of us folks who had just gotten our vegetables planted had been feeling rather ashamed for being so late. After the frost however we perked right up and acted like we knew all the time that it was coming.
Wesley and MaMar Bronson are going into the sheep business via the bum lamb route. They each have a nice bunch of fine-looking lambs. It should be no trick to herd these because like the sheep in the olden days they are educated to follow the shepherd.
A good way to bring on a rain storm, so I’ve heard, is for the farmers to get their hay all mowed and ready to haul. Accordingly a deluge is due any day now as the foothill farmers have started haying.
Clyde Tunks is living on his own place and pasturing cattle this year. Mr Tunks took up his homestead in 1910 and has pastured cattle nearly every year since.
The young trees bought by the school board and planted here this spring are nearly all alive and growing if they can just live through one of our rigorous winters we should have in a very few years the one thing this valley has lacked: some beautiful shade trees.
Nearly every week there is a new applicant for the school. There have been so many excellent appearing young men and women making application that we wish our little one-room school was one of those large modern affairs requiring about ten teachers.

June 30, 1938
On Sunday Mr. and Mrs. Sam Panqitch and their daughter and son-in-law, Indians from Fort Hall, were here in search of deer skins. So we should soon see some new and very ornamental buckskin gloves in this locality.
Mrs. Ghester Bullers served strawberry shortcake made with berries picked from their own patch, which was planted this spring.
A strange passenger hitched a ride on our car as we were returning home on the Birch creek road the other night. A young hawk lit on the front of the car between the lights and rode two or three miles to the cold spring. George got out to fill the radiator and the hawk sat there apparently unafraid, so he thought it was hurt and started to pick it up but it flapped its wings and flew away into the darkness without so much as saying thanks for the ride.
Mr. Russel, government inspector, was here during the latter part of last week to pass on some homesteads that are to be proved up on soon. Wesley Bronson and Gib Lee are the fortunate homesteaders.
This morning (Wednesday) when we woke we found the Indians infallible sign of rain-that is, black all around and pouring down in the middle.

July 7, 1938
A lot of hay is down and being damaged by the frequent rains. It seems that too much moisture after hay is cut is as bad as, or worse than, too little before. Our Almo neighbors have requested the Moulton dry-farmers to please stop praying for rain.
George W. was installed as the new mail carrier on the first of the month. A black cat must have crossed the road in front of him, as he had a tire blowout on the first trip. Ray Bates and wife returned to Oakley at the completion of Ray’s contract.
About ten herds of sheep have passed our place this spring and summer coming into the Junction valley to say nothing of the herds which have entered by other routes. On clear nights the hills resound with their bleating, which is mingled with a chorus of coyotes.
In spite of the recent storms there is a goodly number of visitors to the City of Rocks. Many of them come our way to inquire about roads.
Mrs. Julia Wrigley went to Burley on Friday to attend a double wedding. One of the brides was her first granddaughter, Miss Rosie Herrers.
Three tractors here at Moulton are at work almost daily getting a lot of summer fallowing done. They are improving the farms of Chester Bullers, Carl McBride and George Kirkpatrick.
Mrs Sigrid Magni of the Woodrow district just received a shipment of black Jersey Giant baby chicks. The Magnis will be a good place to eat Thanksgiving dinner.

July 14, 1938
foothill…cce * “”ve. Sh.Ss---
The roads were badly cut up during the rain and would be much improved if the grader were run over them.
Clement Simper has gone to the Beus ranch to help with the haying.
One of the Hultz boys of Smithfield, Utah, nephew of Mr. and Mrs. Chester Bullers, is spending his summer vacation at the Bullers ranch.
Joe Millard took a load of wood to town to sell or trade. As an additional attraction he had a couple of his young milk goats on top of the load. Joe disposed of both goats and wood at the county seat.
We had some unwelcome excitement last week when one of our girls had an attack of appendicitis and it became necessary to rush her to a doctor. Probably because troubles never come singly, the car was out of commission so our neighbors, the Kirkpatricks came to the rescue and took us us to town. The patient, or Laura Pearl, had to stay in Burley for a few days but it was found that an operation was not needed.

July 21, 1938
To the Editor: Did that first line (foothill…cce * “”ve. Sh.Ss---) of my column last week consist of Latin cuss words about the condition of our roads? Thanks for the help if they were.
Rufus Wright still has the buggy in which he and his bride rode to their wedding some twenty years ago. The rig is in constant use and is still in good condition.
On Friday a cloudburst struck our little valley. For a while every hollow became a creek bed and gentle meandering streams were changed to raging torrents. The Raft river was swollen to such proportions that at the Simper ranch the cows which were out in the field had to swim across to get to the corral at milking time.
Visitors at the 24th celebration of Oakley will probably enjoy hamburger made from Junction valley beef. John A. Clark was here this week buying cattle for that purpose.
Cordell Stock, who operates an automotive business at Spanish Fork, Utah, is here for the celebration.

July 28, 1938
The Simon Baker children have a two-year-old buck and doe which they raised as orphans. The doe recently gave birth to a pair of very spotted and cute little fawns. In the beautiful green fields surrounding the Baker home this deer family is the picture of contentment.
Daniel Beus, famous sheep and cattle rancher of the Raft River valley, has made several trips to Salt Lake for medical treatment during the past three weeks. Mr. Beus is a stanch friend of the foothill farmers and all are hoping for his prompt recovery.
Fred Bullers and Glen Hultz were requested to fill an old well with dirt. They harnessed up the herd bull, hitched him to a scraper and proceeded to get the work done in double quick time. When they had the cavity nearly filled, the bull stepped into the hole. It took some effort to get him out, but they finally succeeded. Whenever the children go out to the fields to drive the cows in they jump on this animal’s back to ride home.
Molly Baker has returned home from Los Angeles, Calif., where she visited with her sister, Mrs. Anock Evy, and family for a few weeks. Mrs. Baker thinks our valley looks greener than California at present. She also rejoices that we have no fleas here.
U.S. Land Commissioner Earl Whiteley of Oakley was at Moulton and Lynn on Tuesday attending to his radio business.
Mrs. Julia Wrigley had what was practically a family reunion when the twins, Vivian and Viva Egan, and children had spent a few days with their mother. The girls’ husbands, Alvin and Leonard, accompanied by Thelma Herrers, Mrs. Wrigley’s other daughter and her children came up from Burley to take the Egan families home. They all spent the night at the Wrigley ranch and returned to Burley the following day.
Miss Opal McArthur was a Sunday dinner guest of Miss Bernice Tolman.
Mr. and Mrs. Joe Tracy and children of Almo were guests of Mrs. Luella Curtis Friday.
Several Almoites celebrated at Oakley July 22 and 24; several at Rupurt Monday, July 25th.

August 4, 1938
It is canning season and because some fruits are not raised at this high altitude, the foothill harms become a fruit peddler’s paradise. The vicious looking dogs which ordinarily greet strangers are held in restraint to permit the fruit man to deliver his wares to the farm house doors. This being a year when fruit is plentiful, the farm homemakers are getting a large supply, preparing it seems for a long, hard winter.
Lee Kirkpatrick has been suffering from infection in his leg, caused by an insect bite.
Clement Simper has a remarkable looking crop of barley and alfalfa which has been raised this year without irrigation.
Thomas Sherry comes down from his mine to go to town and to hobnob a little with his neighbors. He quotes poems by the dozen. “But” says Mr. Sherry, “my capacity for perception is other than copious.”
George Kirkpatrick with his son Lee and son-in-law Fred Taylor has bought a new harvester. It is a fine looking machine and speaks well for the excellent crop of grain these folks have this year.
Joe Moon who has a fine vegetable garden- divides his good fortune with his neighbors. He is getting some of the ladies to can the surplus vegetavles on shares.
This is said to be rural mail box clean-up week. So Uncle Sam sends out notices to paint, repair or otherwise remodel some of the makeshifts that have been used in the past for mail boxes.
Chester Bullers had a birthday recently. He being around forty years old, some of the neighbors gathered at his home to cheer him up in his old age. After supper the radio was turned off, the rug rolled back in the front room, and everybody danced to the music of the fiddle and guitar.

August 18, 1938
Emery Bates remarked that all WPA workers are experts with a shovel. He says they have mastered every known method of using shovels, including several different ways of leaning on them.
Recent improvement on the Birch creek road consists of the placing of two or three sign boards directing travelers to Emery canyon, City of Rocks, and other places of interest.
The Lind reservoir may be said to be the most popular spot in the foothills this summer. On hot afternoons or evenings almost the entire population can be found taking a dip in this inviting pool. This is the manner in which the sun tan is acquired for which the foothills are famous.
Two combines are at work at Moulton and another expected to start in a day or two. They are speeding up the harvesting of the grain that was untouched by the recent frost.
A livestock buyer from Burley, was trying to purchase some of Mrs. Wrigley’s cattle. When it seemed to take a long time to make the transaction a neighbor remarked: “Maybe this is once that a Jew met a Scot.”