The Saga of Joe and Lora Davies

[Written by J. Kenneth Davies (son of Joseph T. and Lora A. Davies), about 1997]
[Lightly edited by Mark Davies (grandson) in 2006]

Joseph Thomas Davies 1901-1920

Joseph Thomas Davies, or Joe as he was called, was born June 11, 1901, in a little log cabin on the banks of the Washakie River near Portage, Box Elder County, Utah, across from the Washakie Indian reservation. His mother, Lucy Jane Glover Davies, had had a difficult time with his birth and the baby was not breathing but turning black from the lack of oxygen. An old Indian, who was visiting with his dad and mother, took Joe by the head and ducked him in the river several times and he started to breath. Thus he was rudely born into the world.

Joe's father, William Edward Oberdiah Davies, was also born in Portage, his birth being Dec. 4, 1871. His grandfather was Thomas Davies, Jr. a native of Berriew Parish, Montgomeryshire, Wales. His Welch ancestry had been loyal to the English crown, speaking English rather than Welch. Montgomeryshire is located adjacent to Shropshire, England. Thomas Davies, Jr. came to America with his father, Thomas Davies, Sr., his mother, Phebe Nokes, and his siblings as Mormon converts in 1849.

On the leg of the trip up the Mississippi from New Orleans, Phebe and some of the children died of cholera, a disease then rampant on the western rivers of America. From St.Louis, the remainder of the family travelled up the Missouri River, past the former Mormon village of Independence. Before the remaining family members reached the Missouri-Iowa border, Thomas, Sr. learned of the practice of polygamy by the leaders of the Mormon Church. Repulsed by the practice and his faith already tested and found wanting by the loss of his wife and some children, Thomas, Sr. became disaffected from the Church, remaining in Kansas and eventually becoming a member of the Reorganized L.D.S. movement, especially bitter toward Brigham Young.

However, Thomas Jr. soon went on to the Mormon settlement of Winter Quarters becoming "adopted" by the Isaac Allen family, Mormon converts from Derbyshire, England, later coming west with them to Utah. He married their daughter, Eliza, in Genoa, Nebraska in 1858. Upon arriving in Utah, the family first lived in Wellsville, Cache County, eventually pioneering Portage, in Box Elder County, near the Idaho border and adjacent to the Washakie Indian Reservation. It was there that Joe's father was born.

Joe's mother, Lucy Jane Glover, was the daughter of Joseph   Smith Glover and Ellen M. Rice. Her father had come around the Horn from Pennsylvania on the Brooklyn with his Mormon convert parents, William and Jane Cowan Glover, natives of Scotland. William had been a counselor to Sam Brannan, the mercurial and unstable leader of the Brooklyn Saints, that group of Saints sailing from New York in January of 1846, arriving in San Francisco Bay in July. Glover was a successful miner in the California goldrush of 1848-49, bringing his accumulation of gold to Salt Lake, as requested by Brigham Young, in 1849. Her mother, Ellen Rice, (born at Council Bluffs or Winter Quarters) had come across the plains with her convert parents, William and Lucy Gear Rice, who had been married in Nauvoo, Illinois and were natives of New York and Ohio respectively.

The Will Davies family lived in a dirt floor cabin alongside the State Road leading to Malad, Idaho, until Joe was 3 years old. His first memory was of being visited by his grandfather Allen who helped load a covered wagon for the family's move to Plain City, about 10 miles northwest of the railroad town of Ogden, Utah. He remembered his mother crying out to his father "Oh Will, how much further. I'm so tired." His father replied "Just around the corner and we'll be home.

Joe's next memory was early summer playing with Rene Thomas, a next door neighbor boy, when he was about 3 or 4 years of age. They were in a field where they found some onionlike growth. Joe ate some and passed out. When he came to he was very sick, evidently from the poisonous herb. He remembered being administered to by his father and Mr. Thomas, an experience that left him with an abiding faith in the power of priesthood blessings.

Joe started school in Plain City--with his older brothers Ervin and Ernest (Curly) and his older sister Oleah. He couldn't talk very plainly and when the teacher asked his name, she understood him to say Tody Davis. A girl, Lenore Sheen, said "no, his name is Joseph Davis." (The family went by that pronunciation at that time, as was the custom in Wales where his grandfather, Thomas Davies, and his ancestry had lived.) Miss Sheen became Joe's mouthpiece until he could make himself understood. He always claimed to be a poor student, he felt in some measure due to the difficulty of his birth.

The family had a Plain City lot of about 4 acres with chickens, ducks, horses, etc. Joe's father, William Edward Oberdiah (that's how they spelled and pronounced it, evidently corrupted from the biblical "Obadiah") Davies worked at a nearby smelter. One spring day when Joe was about 5 or 6 and just starting school, his father came home from work and asked Joe to help him thin sugar beets. Using a short handled hoe, he was shown that there should be but one plant in each hill, 14 inches apart, and the weeds cut out. His dad kept with him until he   learned the technique that would serve him well as a beet thinner until he moved to California.

About that time the family moved into a large old house about a mile south of town on the main road and located on about 20 acres. The small farm was purchased, on time, from a well-to-do land owner and businessman, Jack Spires, for whom the family members frequently worked. Spires helped them get the needed equipment, adding it to the purchase price of the property. While Spires was very well-to-do, he dressed like he was poverty stricken, a trait that Joe would sometimes later emulate when out to make a major purchase.

Joe's brother, Adna, was born on July 1, 1908 creating a family crisis. The family always looked forward to 4th and 24th of July celebrations in Plain City. The children were usually given the munificent sum of 10 cents on these holidays to spend as they wished. Joe's fleet-footed mother, Lucy Jane, loved to enter the foot races, usually winning them. But that year his mother and family were disappointed as she couldn't run, due to her recent delivery. However, his older brother, Curly, took her place and beat the field, saving the family's honor. Adna was preceded by Laverna and followed soon by Mamie and Clifford, completing the family. Two other children died soon after birth.

Joe's education was limited. Each fall he and his brothers were not able to start school until the fall work was done and they had to leave school early each spring to do the spring farm chores, a common practice in farming communities. Dad said that a year in which they had 4 to 5 months of schooling was a good year.

The grade school was about a mile and a half up the road 1n the town of Plain City, the children walking it as long as the weather was decent enough. Erv loved school. Dad was somewhat indifferent. Curly hated it, avoiding it as much as possible. To get him there, hopefully, dad's mother would tie the three boys together, with Erv and Joe dragging Curly along. However, usually before arriving at the school Curly would somehow slip loose and, fleet of foot, disappear into the fields. He may have learned many other things in life, but it wasn't in the school room.

They also farmed several other pieces of nearby ground to augment family income. In late spring or early summer when the early crops came on, his father took a load of produce up Ogden Canyon to Huntsville to sell as it was still early in the season at the higher elevation. The family was thrilled when their father came home as he would bring with him some goodies that were not a part of their usual fare.

In the winter, Joe's father herded sheep for Jack Spires out in the west desert of Box Elder County and was thus away for many weeks. During the irrigating season, his father, the water master,   measured the water in the nearby river each day, dropping a chain with a weight into the water to measure the flow. If he wasn't there, Joe often had the responsibility, receiving a little money for the work.

Joe's older sister, Oleah, died when dad was about ten and she, sixteen. She was remembered as beautiful, sweet and well loved, taking after his mother who was beautiful as a young woman. Oleah had come down sick with appendicitis, a frequently fatal ailment at that time. His mother was devastated, taking many months to recover from the loss.

One day, in company with Ervin, Curly (Ernest), who hated his curly hair and plastered it down with most anything, went to a barber and got him to shave it off. It cost 10 cents. The barber had said that his hair would probably grow back in straight. But when it came back, it was just as curly as ever. He retained the nickname for the rest of his life, even after becoming bald.

Late each fall, after the harvest was in, father Will and the boys usually went down to the nearby river where there were many trees. They cut the dead ones down, stacking them to be later prepared for fire wood, their usual source of heat. They did use a little coal for cooking but very little as it was expensive and cash was scarce. One day was particularly hot and tiresome and Ervin and Curly went to a nearby spring flowing into the river to get some water. When they didn't return when expected, Joe was sent to find them. He found them all right, swimming. He dropped his overalls, his only clothes, and jumped in. He was having a great time even though he couldn't swim. His exasperated father suddenly appeared and demanded to know what they were doing. Joe replied, "Just cooling off. Why don't you come in, too, dad?" His father dropped his clothes, including his under garments, and jumped in.

Joe's father asked him if he could swim. He said "no." His father then picked him up and threw him out into the middle of the slow flowing river, watching him closely, Joe gasping and struggling finally paddled unaided to other side. His father asked, "How did you like that?" Joe replied, "Well, I learned to swim didn't I?" The technique wasn't quite so successful when administered to his son, Ken, many years later.

At about eight, Joe was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the irrigation ditch that came out of the Weber River and flowed at the back of their property. The waterhole used for baptisms, was created by the wagons and horses crossing the ditch, creating a depression in which the water flowed deeper. Dad's baptism was only one of 20 or 30 performed that day by a Brother Reed. Baptisms were held once a year, in the summer, and included those whose birthdays had come since the previous baptismal service, and even included a few whose eighth   birthdays would come a short time later. The participants wore their ordinary clothing. The boys were separated from the girls and each group was sent into the brush on separate sides of the river to change to dry clothing if they wished.

Dad remembered the main irrigation ditch as cleaned each spring by a friend, Joe Richardson, who was an expert at cleaning ditches. He had a special shovel that he kept very sharp aiding considerably in the process. He taught Joe the importance of keeping his tools, including his shovels, sharp, a need that would prove especially useful over the years.

Each spring the boys hired out to thin beets either before or after their own beets were done. They were paid $5.25 an acre. When Dad was about 12 and due to be ordained a deacon he had little by way of clothes, what he had being made by his mother or were hand-me-downs. His brother, Ervin, went out and thinned an acre of beets adding to his savings and bought Joe an outfit for his ordination and his duties as a deacon. Joe remembered these as his first store bought clothes and was always thankful for his brother's kindness. Ervin was an expert beet thinner and taught Joe how to thin an average of an acre a day. Everyone wanted to hire them because of their efficiency.

Joe loved to work the hayrack, receiving, placing and packing the hay down, making it possible to get more on the wagon as well as easier to unload. He also loved to drive the matched team that his father was so proud of. Curly and Erv usually pitched the hay up to him. When his father joined the team, it was with these two. It kept Joe especially busy keeping up with the three. They had previously cut the hay with mower, pulled by 2 horses, raked it into wind rows to dry, later turning it over to dry more and stacking it into piles the size of a good, efficient but manageable forkful.

In the fall, a machine lifted the sugar beets out of the ground and the boys went down the rows topping them and clearing the leaves from the piles of beets. They then loaded them into a wagon with pitchforks to be hauled, usually by their dad, to the sugar factory several miles away while the boys stayed working the field.

Joe also loved to harvest potatoes. Their soil was sandy and easy to work. The potatoes were either hauled to the railroad or taken to Ogden to be peddled. Joe didn't mind most of the hard farm work but hated hoeing weeds.

One day, when his dad was not home, and Joe quite young, he coaxed his mother into letting them go fishing in the nearby river. She liked the fresh meat and gave in easily. He threw his line out and saw a big carp coming. It grabbed the bait worm and Joe pulled it in. He was so proud and excited that he immediately ran home   with it to show his mother. She asked him to clean and scale it and in doing so he found that it had a lot of eggs. His mother fried them, giving him a serving. At first he was reticent to eat them but after the first taste loved them and she gave him the whole batch.

When he was a youth he loved to watch and especially to play in baseball and basketball games. Being pretty good he usually was on the Plain City teams that played nearby towns of Far West, W. Weber, Warren, N. Ogden, etc. Far West was considered the best basketball team around. One evening Joe, playing guard on his team, was given the responsibility of guarding one forward of the other team with the reputation as a real rough neck. Joe harried him so much that he wore his opponent out and he made no baskets, Dad's team winning the game.

The toughy met Joe outside after the game, made a pass at dad who ducked and hit him several times staggering him. They sparred back and forth and dad finally decked him. Everyone from Plain City surrounded them during the scuffle and then congratulated dad on his victory. He gained the reputation as able to take care of himself, having many a fight after that just to prove himself.

One day dad's baseball team played West Weber. After winning the game, an older and much bigger boy from the defeated team, Roy Skeen, tackled Joe, starting a wrestling match that lasted about two hours until dark. The boys were "give out" neither able to throw the other. Unbeknown to Skeen, dad had been taking wrestling lessons from Jackie Ebson, an older and excellent wrestler. A professional also came from Ogden and taught the Plain City boys. Again, dad's reputation as a scrapper was enhanced, a skill and compulsion he failed to pass on to his sons, none of whom followed suit.

In his teens, dad occasionally went to Saturday night dances, each ward having them, sometimes borrowing the family's horse and buggy. One night he went to Warren with Ervin, having a good time when he could work up enough nerve to ask a girl to dance. He said that he and Ervin were not very good dancers. When the dance was over at midnight, they went to the nearby store to get something to eat on their way home, 2 or 3 miles away. Although the store usually remained open until the dances were over, it was closed that night and the boys felt it should have stayed open. They went next door to the owner's home, demanding that he come down and open it up. The store owner's son came out saying that his father was ill and refusing to comply. A fight ensued and dad broke the fellow's nose. The boys jumped in the buggy and skedaddled home.

A neighbor came over to the Davies home the next morning and warned Joe that constable Wayment was coming to arrest him and another boy, Reen Steen. The boys decided to skip town and go to Idaho to work for a feed yard in Twin Falls run by Reen's uncle,   Charlie Steen. Dad hurriedly put some clothes in a little case and went with his friend to catch the morning interurban electric Bamburger train to Ogden where they caught a train to Twin Falls. He never told us whether or not in that or his future frequent trips into Idaho he jumped into an empty box car or rode the rods under the railroad cars, common practices for men and boys of those days. He also never revealed how his folks felt about their 15 year old son running off to escape the law.

This experience may have ended Joe's schooling. He claimed not to have finished the 8th grade. When his name did not appear on the 8th grade graduation list, his father went to the teacher to complain. The teacher firmly replied: "Will, you just work your boys too damn much." However, in a picture of a group of graduates with their teacher, dad was notably present with a diploma in his pocket.

After their escape, the boys worked in Twin Falls all winter, hauling hay and sugar beet pulp for cattle fattening, going home for the spring work. His work in the feed yards was among a rough and tumble bunch of men and boys. An early picture of dad showed him in a feed yard decked out in hairy, woolskin chaps and brandishing a sixshooter gun like a tough cowboy. presumably a good guy. In one picture it looked as though he might have had a cigarillo, a Spanish cigar, in his mouth. As far as the family knows, he never owned a gun, nor was he known to have used tobacco or alcoholic beverages, at least after his marriage.

One year dad left home early in the fall season for Twin Falls, before the beets were harvested. His mother wrote and asked him to come home and help his father with the beets, both Curly and Ervin being gone. Joe went down, with his boss's blessing, and helped harvest and load the beets, dad hauling them to the sugar factory. He had graduated to the role of a teamster. He stayed till Thanksgiving and then went on the train back to Twin Falls. His boss, Charlie Steen, impressed with dad's consideration for his folks, didn't dock his pay that was $60 a month, with room and board, even though he was gone for several weeks.

One year, toward spring, dad had saved $120, 2 months pay, in $20 bills. He tucked it under the straw in his bunk in the bunkhouse. A new man, who had recently joined the crew, having just been let out of prison in Boise on probation. sat and watched dad. When dad went to get some money to take to town, the money was missing. He decided to stay in camp asking friends to help watch the man to see if they could see anything suspicious. One of them said he saw the new man flashing $20.00 bills around. Dad told Charlie, not saying anything to the man. Charlie talked with the probationer and got him and his brother to repay dad, not reporting him for the parole violation, and they became good friends.   In his interviews, dad never mentioned World War I, even though his brother, Ervin, served in France. Seventeen years old at the time of the Armistice in November of 1918, Joe was too young to serve.

Dad went to work for a brick mason in Twin Falls one spring, working on a sugar factory as a brick tender, mixing the mortar and carrying the hod and bricks to the work site. He also helped with the cement work, a skill he would build on over the years and one that would bring him a little trouble three decades later.

The fall of 1920, Joe went to the nearby canning factory, then canning tomatoes, as he had heard that a bunch of new nice looking girls from Idaho were coming there to work. He was assigned to the can room being responsible to keep cans going along the chute. Dad could see down into the cooker room where he viewed a pretty young lady that turned out to be Lora Christina Anderson.

Whenever the young lady leaned over, he could see her attractive, well-endowed bosoms, at least partially. He was terribly attracted to her, in fact smitten, and finally got a chance to talk to her, getting a date. They went to the fair in Logan on the Bamberger Electric, dad hastily adding "with a chaperoned group."

Lora Christina Anderson 1903-1920

Lora Christina Anderson was born January 10, 1903 in Salem, Fremont County, in the Mormon country of southeastern Idaho. Her father, Joseph Jeppa Anderson, was of solid Scandinavian descent, his father, Mons Anderson, a native of Norway and his mother, Christine Benson, from the island of Bornholm in the Baltic Sea, well off the east coast of Denmark.

Christine Benson, while born on Bornholm, had gone to Copenhagen, Denmark as a young lady, working as a seamstress and becoming one of the first Mormon converts in Denmark, helping teach the newly ordained Apostle, Lorenzo Snow, also the mission president, the Danish language. With her convert parents, she emigrated to the U.S. and Utah in 1850.

Mons Anderson, unmarried and not a member of the Church at the time of his emigration from Norway, settled first in Wisconsin, losing his timbering homestead to a claim jumper in 1852. Hoping to recoup, he headed for the gold fields of California, stopping in Salt Lake and attending a Church conference. Upon hearing Brigham Young he becoming converted, meeting and marrying Christine Benson. After his marriage, he went on two missions, one to Norway and one to Wisconsin. After returning from Norway, he married "Aunt" Hannah, one of his converts, becoming a polygamist for which "crime" he spent a year in prison in the 1880s.

Lora's mother, Emma Ann Williams, was of English-American- Canadian stock. the latter's father and his parents came from southeastern England while her mother, born at Winter Quarters, had parents born in Ohio and Canada and married in Nauvoo. All were Mormon converts, coming to Utah in the early 1850s.

Lora was the 9th of 15 children born to this couple between 1888 and 1917. Her father was well-educated for his day, graduating from the Normal (Education) program of Brigham Young Academy in Provo, Utah in 1886 as well as having a year of post- graduate academic work, much of it under James E. Talmage, later an Apostle. His mentor, Karl G. Maeser, the school's stolid German educator and convert, was the superintendent.

Following his graduation he became an itinerant school teacher. In his first year of teaching, in Mayfield, Utah, he met and married, at the end of the school year, one of his prize   students, Emma Ann Williams, in the Logan Temple. The nearby Manti Temple was just under construction. He also assisted, under Maeser, in the establishment of Mormon academies in Richfield and Brigham City in Utah. In the early 1890's he went into the merchandising business in Rabbit Valley, Wayne (Piute) County during the mining boom, but went bankrupt in the nationwide depression of 1893-4.

Several more attempts were made at teaching in Arizona and Utah combining teaching with agriculture and getting started in raising honey bees. He finally moved his family to Idaho in 1902, hoping to get a foothold in the expanding sugarbeet industry, along with some teaching. Not doing well in either occupation, he finally settled on honey production and insurance sales in the winters as his primary sources of income for his expanding family. Beekeeping was something he could keep his children involved in. As Lora later put it, "All those that could survive the bee stings were his helpers. Some, upon being stung, would get the nettles and become violently ill, so they were left with Mother to help with her many duties."

Lora described one of her experiences with the bees. On a dark day, when bees became especially bothersome, she was assigned the job of smoking the bees to calm them down. While she was dressed for the experience, it wasn't good enough as she received a dozen or so bee stings. When she went home, she was ill and miserable, and remembers going out and standing in the middle of the irrigation ditch in the dark, plastering herself with mud to reduce the misery. She also tells of running the extractor that pulled the honey out of the combs. This involved hours of pulling a lever with her right hand. She blames that chore as responsible for that hand being much larger than her left.

Lora later described her home life as being "healthy and spiritual. Father always called us to prayer night and morning before mealtime when all chairs were turned with the backs against the table...each taking their turns. We had our homenights and ...holidays. Father would play games with us such as 'Old Bloody Tom', 'Tin Soldiers', (and) 'Spanking Machine'. Then we would pull honey candy which mother had been cooking.

"Our house seemed like a great mansion... but now as we go back...the house seems very small. We always had a large garden (with) vegetables, berries and fruit orchard. There was a field fringing the Snake River where feed was raised for the animals.

"Father was always so thoughtful of Mother, helping and easing her load whenever possible. With each child he gave completely to her his attention and time...He would make her corn meal gruel ... (with) a nice big chunk of butter" letting the children taste it so that they would know what a treat she was getting."   Lora's siblings in the order of their births were: Joseph Emmanuel, Ezra LeRoy, Raymond Alton, Harold Moroni, Emery Milton, Thomas Arnold, Violet Evelyn, Emma Irene, all born in Utah. The remainder were Lora Christina, James Leland, Lisla Jane, Wynona, Elmo Ronald, Fay Kawailani and Mary Elaine, all born in Idaho. All children lived to maturity, Fay being the only one without issue. Also members of the family for periods of time were three motherless grandchildren: Blaine, a son of Harold, and Thelma and Norma, daughters of Irene.

Lora's father provided well for his family. She wrote: "Four sons were sent on missions (and)...the children had what education they would have and we were the first to have electricity and (a) water system in our little country town, also the first car, which was a Rio truck. Father never failed to decorate our house with bunting and flags on the Fourth and Twenty Fourth of July, and also entering into the festivities of the day with his family."

Lora's first memory was of a family disaster. She wrote: "When I was a small child, perhaps two and a half years old...our home in Salem caught on fire and everything went up in flames, a family of twelve (including new born Leland) left homeless. I was tucked in bed at the time and can remember of being frightened by the noise, climbing out of my little bed, hiding under my parents' bed and from there to the closet. All the while they were searching for me. I remember the great commotion when they found me."

She writes of a family excursion to Yellowstone National Park: "...in a covered wagon. We had many interesting experiences on this trip. I remember the Ripley camp which took tourists through the park. We would watch them gather around the big camp fires in the evenings and would shyly come closer and closer until finally we might be noticed and invited to come into camp and enter into the festivities. Now and then some kindly person would give us a stick of gum or candy.... We lost one of our real pets on this trip, a horse named 'White Cap'. He had served the family as a trusted friend. His bare back carried us (as many as four) on many a trip, gentle and loveable.... He was just too old to survive the trip and he became ill and finally had to be shot and sold for bear meat. Things never seemed the same after that."

She tells of her baptism: "As I was approaching my eighth birthday (1911) I could think of nothing more wonderful than the day I would be taken to the waters of baptism. When the day finally arrived, I was very ill and had been for some time with St. Vitus Dance but I was determined to be baptized. Mother was very much opposed to it because this was winter, January 10, and I would have to be taken some distance to the river where a hole would have to be cut in the ice. I remember Father saying, 'If she has the faith, this will not make her worse, but she will get better.'   "I don't believe Mother ever gave into it fully, but nevertheless the baptism took place. After Father got into the water and then took me in I wasn't quite so anxious and I tried to climb him and get out. He said in (a) shaking voice, 'Lora! Lora! Get down!' Before I knew it he had baptized me and I was wrapped in quilt and on to home in the sleigh. They laid me on the table to take the quilt off. My clothes and all (were) frozen stiff. I not only survived this but got well from then on, and was able to go back to school. This has always been a testimony in my life."

St. Vitus Dance or rheumatic chorea is primarily a child and youth disease in which involuntary muscular movement occurs. It frequently affects the heart, with long term effects. It is interesting that Lora's father suffered from a similar disease about the time of his baptism, as would her daughter, June, at six years of age. Mother would have a heart that acted up for the rest of her life, although without life threatening episodes, she being 92 years of age at this writing (1995).

Lora writes of her long term illness. "The third year (of grade school) I took ill at school. I began shaking all over." She added later that she had begun to shake all over, dancing around madly. The teacher dismissed the class and a doctor was called in. While in this condition, she had to go to the bathroom and was forced to use a wash basin, a very embarrassing experience. She continues, "and I was put to bed for some time with St. Vitus Dance. I was in a darkened room for sometime and kept quiet. I recall as I began to recover being wheeled around in the baby buggy by the other children...I had to take the third grade over and this put me in the class with my (younger) brother Leland."

This move to Leland's lower grade proved to provide many embarrassing and unpleasant experiences. She writes: "He was rather intelligent and got good grades with little study. He caused me much concern and misery, for he was always clowning for the class when the teacher left the room. The teacher was somewhat aware of this but had trouble catching him at it. One day he went out of one door and in the other and caught him in the act. He (the teacher) seemed to go almost mad. He grabbed Leland by the hair of the head and threw him about, striking his legs against the benches." He also pulled out a hank of Leland's hair. With the subsequent complaint to the school authorities by Lora's parents, the teacher was called before the school board and was suspended for a couple of years.

While mother attended grades 1-4 in Salem, the 5th-8th were spent in nearby Sugar City. She had the suspended teacher again in the eighth grade. He was almost a broken man, afraid of the students and continuously tormented by them. On one occasion, while he was out of the room, Leland, who was quite small, climbed up into the heating transom above the teacher's desk, spilling a bag of peanuts on his head.   Lora writes of her widowed grandfather Williams who came to visit them. "We loved him. He was good natured and jolly, a nice plump grandfather. Mother had us all busy in the evenings, tearing carpet rags to be woven into carpet. We began to get pretty tired of this and as we were coming somewhat to the end, Grandfather would go to the pot bellied stove and spit and would manage to get rid of a few rags at the same time. One of these times he accidentally got his nice red handkerchief mixed in with the rags He was quite upset about this. For Xmas we all donated a little money and bought him a new one. We had many a laugh over this incident."

The mention of another experience with an unnamed grandfather, but probably stern grandfather Mons Anderson, was not so positive. She writes: "One of my early recollections is of my grandfather speaking cross to me. I was evidently climbing the stairs to get up to the upper rooms they occupied in our home. He said, 'You little rascal. Why don't you stay down where you belong?' This hurt me more than the burn from hot tea. I can remember looking up into his face and crying bitterly."

Lora makes little mention of her siblings through her youthful years. She does mention about LeRoy, Emery, and Harold going on missions, and of brothers Emery and Arnold serving in World War I. However, she appears to have had a special relationship with Harold, ten years her senior. She writes: "About 1914 my brother Harold left on a mission to California. Many nights after as I knelt by my bed to pray, I would sob for a brother I fairly worshipped. I remember falling asleep sobbing there. Somehow he was almost angelic.

"Perhaps this great love for Harold came about through an incident in my life. While Mother and Father were to conference in Salt Lake, I was playing around the sheds in barnyards with other children. I fell and ran a very large nail through my leg, just below the kneecap. He sucked the blood out of the wound to prevent blood poisoning. This made me feel a great love for him at this time and this seemed to grow through the years.... As he was leaving for his mission I was crying my heart out and he said, 'Don't cry Lola. I will send you an orange and banana from California.'" He evidently forgot his promise. He was married before he left on his mission, his wife joining him at its closure. She soon became pregnant and died in childbirth, leaving a son to be cared for by Lora's parents until his remarriage.

At some point, the family moved into Rexburg, the home of the Church's Ricks Academy, essentially a high school. There is some confusion as to exactly when this was and mother does not remember the details of the move. She makes no mention of it in her journal. One reason for the confusion is that, according to one family record, mother's sister, Fay in 1914 and Elaine in 1917,   were both born in Rexburg. Yet mother remembers walking the floor in the Salem home while her mother was in labor with Fay. If so, that record is in error. She does not remember Elaine's birth.

The confusion is added to by the fact that mother writes that when she finished grade school (the eighth grade) which would have been about 1917, her parents placed her and Leland in an LDS home in Rexburg so that they could attend the Academy. She also says that the following year, she and Irene lived in the basement of President Romney's, he being the school president. It is possible that her mother was taken to Rexburg for Elaine's birth and that the family's move was made between 1917 and 1919, with Lora and Leland and then Irene placed outside of the family home for some reason even though the family home had moved to Rexburg.

The experience of living away from home appears to have had mixed results. Lora felt that they probably did not eat very well as they prepared their own food which may have affected her health. And while at the Romney home, she and Irene would climb into their room through the window when they got home later than they should have. Lora also writes that she and Irene did not get along very well, doing a great deal of quarreling as Irene tried to dominate her. Toward the end of Lora's life, she expressed mixed feelings about Irene and her superior, domineering ways, that she felt left her with an inferiority complex.

During this second year away from home, when she must have been about sixteen, she had her first date and "teenage crush." However, she writes: "But love soon cooled and I found myself avoiding him. He was heartbroken, but I am sure this didn't last long. Youthful hearts mend easily."

In the summer of 1919, she being sixteen, brother Harold's sister-in-law, Gladys Hansen, came to Rexburg. Lora, Irene and Gladys became fast friends. When the latter got ready to go to her home in Ephraim, Utah, Irene and Lora pleaded with their parents to let them go with her for a visit. Their parents relented but said they would have to pay their own way. Brothers LeRoy and Harold provided them with the wherewithal.

On the way, they stopped to meet and visit for awhile with their father's only sister, Vilate. Lora writes: "We loved her. She was sweet and kind to us, but insisted we must be up and about when breakfast was ready, as her days were too busy to have us make any extra work. And she was a busy, hardworking woman; no conveniences, as her husband could see no reason for such things." It was a far cry from the way her father had treated her mother, and the way her future husband would treat her.

While in Ephraim the girls got jobs in the local canning factory, paying their own room and board. Lora got a crush on a young man, Ralph Poulsen, but the romance soon died. Irene met her   future husband, Barney Anderson.

When they had their visit out, they travelled to West Weber with a group of young people who were going to work in the tomato factory. It was there, working on the line, that she met her husband-to-be, Joseph Thomas Davies. She provides no detail on her feelings toward or experiences with the besmitten Joe. But he would not so easily be put off as her earlier swains.

Courtship and Marriage 1920-1923

When the tomato canning season in the late summer 1920 was |over, the Idaho girls went back to their homes, Lora Anderson to Rexburg. Dad and a friend of his, Bill Giles, followed them a little later. They went to Rexburg, where Lora lived, working with the sugar beets and grain threshing in the area.

One of their employers was a Japanese who maintained a large container of sake, a powerful rice alcoholic beverage, to keep his workers happy and working for him. Dad claims that he didn't know what the beverage was. He and his buddy drank a couple of tin cups of it becoming quite unsteady on their feet. As they staggered |back toward the farm where they were staying, they finally crawled or fell into a ditch and collapsed. A fellow worker, an Anderson (possibly one of Lora's brothers) was watching them expecting something to happen. When he saw them fall he picked them up and took them home. If word of this had gotten back to Lora's folks, it would probably have ended Joe's and Lora's budding relationship.

Dad tried to court mother but with little success at first as she had other "fish to fry." She also had school to attend. He did meet her folks, Joseph Jeppa and Emma Williams Anderson. They 'were not very impressed by him at first, saying that dad was a closed book--not much of a talker. He admittedly was very shy, especially around girls. Without decent clothes, and probably with a rather crude language, he must have been a sorry spectacle for her rather well-educated, sophisticated and prosperous father.

When the fall field work was done, the young men went to Twin Falls for the winter work in the stock feed yards. At Christmas time, he borrowed a suit of good clothes, not having any of his own, and went to Rexburg to see Lora. He could not remember whether or not he took a ring but if so they did not get engaged at that time. Mother later claimed that there had been little personal courting, with a courtship only thru impersonal letter writing.

Dad wrote mother asking her to marry him but she told him that she would only get married in the temple, something she had always planned on and something that he had really not anticipated. He learned that his brother Ervin was going on mission that he go to the temple. Dad told mother that it would be nice if they could go   to the temple with him and get married. She finally accepted the proposal and he sent her the tiny diamond ring.

He wrote to his father and asked what he had to do to get married in the temple. His dad said he would have to write Bishop Maw. The bishop wrote back and said he would have to go before the High Council and present Dad's name, although he thought that he could get him a temple recommend. This sounds more like his father was talking about getting approval for dad to be ordained an elder and receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, if the same church procedures were followed then as prevail at the end of the 20th Century.

The intercession of Joe's father appeared to mother in later years as undue pressure, she saying that the marriage would probably not have taken place, at least at that time, without it. The tenor of her remembrance of these events indicate some resentment of what she perceived as the lack of a "romantic" courtship and of undue pressure to get married.

Dad met mother at Pocatello, hardly recognizing her as she had a big cold sore on her face. They proceeded on to Plain City to see his bishop about the temple recommend and then the stake president in Ogden, his father going with him. Mother stayed at his folk's place. Dad's home, with its lack of conveniences, was rather primitive compared with the one mother was used to, and it must have been quite a shock to her.

The young couple then went on to Salt Lake, staying at dad's Aunt Carrie's. His Aunt Lisle and Aunt Nell, his mother's two other sisters, came to pass on mother. She passed their muster.

As dad was just 20 years old and underage, his father had to go with him to get the license. Mother was only 18 years old. She later looked on herself as being naive and unprepared for marriage but probably at the time felt that she was ready to "try her wings", anticipating this new adventure and the opportunity to get away from home duties.

The temple experience, on March 2, 1921, was a strange and confusing one, especially for dad not having been prepared in any way. In fact he had probably seen little of the inside of a church for some time and had not been particularly punctilious about certain portions of the Word of Wisdom. He said nothing about receiving the Melchizedek Priesthood and being ordained an elder which would have been required for a temple marriage.

They went into the Salt Lake temple early in the morning, receiving their endowments, dad being with Ervin and his father, his mother not present. Following that they went into a sealing room to be married, kneeling around the altar, dad holding mother's hand. He would never forget nor, he said, violate the marriage   vows he took. They emerged from the temple about 3:00 that afternoon, a long time.

Dad does not remember whether mother's folks were with them in the temple or not that day although it seems strange that they would not have been as they were active Latter-day Saints. He informs us that they were in Salt Lake to sell a load of honey, Grandpa Anderson being a bee raiser and one of the larger honey producers in the state of Idaho. Lora later confirmed that they did not attend her wedding, giving no explanation. One wonders if they did not feel dad was worthy of their daughter's hand and they may have objected to the marriage, expressing their disapproval by failing to attend.

Not knowing what to do after they got out of the temple, they went to a picture show, a silent movie, the only kind available at that time. They then went back to his Aunt Carrie's for dinner, and were offered her big double bed for their nuptial night. Another version was that they slept on a couch in the living room. Neither dad nor mother volunteered any details on their first night, dad only saying that it was a strange and new experience for both of them.

Following the ceremony, Grandpa Davies asked dad if he needed any money. When dad had left his job feeding cattle in Twin Falls he had planned to return so he had left his accumulated pay there. When he told his father that he needed some, he was given or loaned $50. He later received the pay due.

Mother and dad boarded the electric Bamberger train to go to Ogden, planning to go on to Twin Falls to work in the feed yards and to collect his pay. When they got off the train, Dad heard someone call his name. It was the bricklayer dad had worked for in Idaho. He asked dad what he was doing. Dad said that he had just gotten married and was going back to Twin Falls to work. The bricklayer said, "Oh, you can't take your little lady up there. Why don't you come and work for me. I have a contract laying brick at the arsenal in Ogden."

Joe asked how much the job paid. He was told that it wasn't "chicken feed" but $7.00 a day, whereas Dad had only been getting paid $60.00 a month plus room and board in Twin Falls. He accepted the job.

The folks went out to Plain City where they had a reception and returned to Ogden the next day to find an apartment and to start work and married life on their own. It was a small, upstairs, furnished apartment on 21st street. Dad said that it was only a temporary place, and he guessed not very nice, which probably meant that it was very poor accommodations.

He went to work the next Monday, working as a brick tender for   sometime. However, one day his dad was talking with Jack Spires, who said he would like to hire Dad to raise seed spuds up Wellsville Canyon. Dad and mother decided to take the work as the arsenal job was about finished and the new job would give them steady work for the spring, summer and fall.

They returned to Plain City where Spires brought them a load of seed potatoes and they spent a week cutting them up, a potato eye to each piece, in preparation for planting. When they were ready they took a wagonload or two of equipment, spuds and personal possessions up the canyon, Joe's father going with them and helping them settle in.

There was a small cabin close to where they would plant a garden. According to dad it seemed like an ideal setup for two newlyweds, being all alone in the mountain country. Lora looked on it as lonely and, only being a crude two room log cabin, made her nervous. The ground was thawed and dad immediately started plowing the virgin land. He harrowed and leveled it as much as possible, made the furrows and then planted the seed spuds. Then, not having much to do, they returned to Plain City until the potatoes sprouted.

When they received word that the spuds were coming up, they returned and dad planted a little truck garden near their house, also starting the hated hoeing of the weeds in the potato acreage. Unfortunately, as soon as their home garden sprouted, the ground squirrels came and ate the plants as fast as they came up and they lost their garden.

Unexpectedly, Spires came to them one day with his sheep shearers who would shear his sheep he was bringing up the canyon before herding them into the mountains for the summer. He wanted mother to cook for them during the shearing season, bringing a big cheese and a sack of beans to make do for a few days.

Mother and dad were under such pressure to get some food ready that they put the beans on the stove not taking into account that they would swell. Mother says that she knew very little about cooking, an interesting comment for a country girl. Pretty soon the pot was full and beans were overflowing. Before they knew it, every container in the place was full and beans were still coming out of the pot. They should have realized the problem but in their hurry just didn't think. Recovering from the experience, mother continued to feed the shearers for about 10 days, being paid extra for her labors.

The potato fields were some distance from the house, up on the top of a hill. Mother would come and visit Dad once in awhile but, of course, was not expected to help with the hoeing and cultivating. That was man's work. The weeds were a special problem as this was very fertile, virgin land. They kept coming up   faster than dad could cut them down and he just about wore himself out trying to keep up with them. To top it off, the obnoxious ground squirrels discovered the baby potatoes on the roots and came in hordes to a great feast. It was a desperate situation.

Dad called his father and told them that he just couldn't keep up with it unless he had some help. His dad told Spires who said that he had no one to send and that dad and mother should come on down. The situation must have been an impossible one as dad was certainly not a quitter. And mother was undoubtedly applying a good deal of pressure for relief.

Before they left, a terrible rain storm came up one night. About midnight a knock on the door came and when dad answered it a bedraggled, rain soaked man informed him that his truck load of furniture had gone off the road a little way down the canyon and that he needed help. Dad hitched up his horse to a single tree and taking a chain went down the canyon and pulled the truck onto the road, the job taking most of the night. Dad, typically, refused to take any money for helping someone in an emergency, a trait he passed on to his children. The man did leave an old clock as pay when he left the next day, saying that it was good except that it wouldn't run. The folks left it there when they moved back to Plain City a few days later.

Dad was able to work on the farms in the Plain City area until the sugar factory started up. He was hired there to work the spinner that spun the sugar syrup out of the pulp, working 12 hour shifts, six days a week until January or February when the factory closed down for the season. A 12 hour workday and 6 days a week was pretty usual for that time. Add two hours for the travel and it meant that dad was home very little with his pregnant and lonely wife.

Dad was then out of work. He looked and looked but found nothing, it being between seasons. The decision was made that mother would return to her folks in Rexburg for the remainder of her pregnancy, while dad remained behind to find work. Mother infers that there were also some ill-feelings, not surprising under the circumstances. She left for Rexburg but dad could still find no work so he soon followed her.

While he didn't mention it, mother says that dad worked in the bees for her father for two dollars a day and that they lived in her folk's basement. Joe and mother's brother, Leland, took a job thinning beets some distance away and camping out, being there when mother began to her labor pains. Another brother came to get him. Dad claims that he missed the birth; mother says that he barely made it. Their first child, June, was born June 13, 1922 in the Anderson home in Rexburg. It was an instrument birth as June was in a bad presentation. Mother records: "All my life... I had dreamed and longed for a baby of my own. When...I held my precious   little baby girl in my arms, words cannot express my feeling. I thought she was the most beautiful baby in all the world." Dad later described her as a "cute little stinker, with a little red face" quickly adding that she soon became a beautiful girl and that she still was.

Dad found a job in a little restaurant owned by a demanding old German, being expected to wait on the tables, clean up the place, set the tables, etc. He hated the job probably looking on it as demeaning for a man. One day a drayman (trucker) came into the eating place and asked Dad if he would like to come work for him. Dad quickly accepted, working for him hauling goods through the summer. However, one day when he reported to work, he was told that he was being let go because his boss had been able to hire two railroad strikers for the same amount he had been paying dad.

The years of 1921-22 was a period of a nationwide railroad strike. The railroads had decided to break the unions that had become so powerful during World War I. In addition, the country was in a recession giving employers the upper hand in dealing with their workers. They set the wages so low, and made the working conditions so poor, that the union workers struck. The railroads decided to continue to run, hiring "scabs" or strikebreakers to continue operations. The agricultural areas of the country, including Idaho, were especially hard hit by depression so that there were plenty of worker replacements, "scabs.".

Dad heard of job openings on the Union Pacific Railroad in Pocatello, paying good wages compared to what he had been getting, plus room and board. The only thing was that the men had to stay in barracks and locked inside a fence because of striker violence against "hated scabs." His experience with the violence prone unions of the day, agitated by the communist dominated Industrial Workers of the World (Wobblies) undoubtedly had something to do with his almost rabid anti-unionism of later years. He lived and worked in the railroad yards repairing track and cars, mother staying with her parents. His construction work, including carpentering, would serve him in good stead.

When the strike was settled, he stayed on and mother moved down from Rexburg to what dad described as a nice little apartment in Pocatello. They had some nice neighbors and attended church about two blocks away. A special friend was an older lady married to a younger man. She was an especially good cook, making exceptionally good cakes and pies and from whom mother secured a number of recipes.

Dad worked there all fall and winter. In the meantime, mother's oldest brother, Joe, was working in the Santa Fe oil fields in the Los Angeles area, making what he described as a fortune when he brought in two oil wells. However, not satisfied, he moved to another area, drilling three dry wells and, having   mortgaged his previous wells to finance the drilling, he lost everything. He failed to inform his family of his misfortune. In the meantime, he had sent for his brothers, Roy and Rae, to come down and work for him in construction in a booming housing market. Mother had written him and he invited dad and mom to come down to work for him, too. In addition, her favorite brother, Harold, lived there with his new wife, Muriel.

Dad told three railroad buddies that he was going to go to California to work. One of them, Whitey, said he would furnish the car, an open, Model T Ford, and they decided that they would all go down together, sharing all of the expenses. Dad made arrangements for mother and June to stay at his folks' in Plain City until he could get settled in sunny California and the four men set off.

They left Salt Lake on the Sunday of April conference of the Church, in 1923, it taking six days to make it to Los Angeles on the mostly dirt roads. By the time they got to Nephi that afternoon, the car needed some repair work. However, they were unable to get it fixed until the next morning. Whitey, the car owner, wouldn't pay for it so the others, principally Dad, paid for the work.

The road south was nothing but an unpaved wagon road and it was raining, with the road muddy and rutted. They spent the day helping push people out and wearing out one of the wooden wheels on their car. It finally gave out north of Scipio and they had to be pulled into town where they got the wheel fixed, finishing about nine that night. There was no place to stay in town but they were told they could find a place in Holden a few miles south. They were not told that they would have to go over a high hill.

When they came to it, the car could not make it on its own, so they had to all get out and push it to the top. When they reached that point, they jumped in and rolled on into Holden. Arriving there about 3:00 a.m., they were able to get an attic room with two beds, getting a few hours of sleep.

By the next morning, the rain had stopped and the roads were pretty good driving down to St. George where they stopped for the night, sleeping by the side of the road. They drove the next day to Las Vegas, Nevada, then nothing but a country store with a watering place and presumably a gasoline station. There would also have been a railroad station. They spent the night, sleeping again at the side of the road.

The next day they headed southwest across the salt flats, with no discernible road. Finally coming to a one lane dirt road they drove to Daggett, California where they stopped to repair a tire that was about worn out. They drove on to Victorville, again spending the night by the side of the road near Barstow where they secured another tire, Dad putting the money out for it, $15.00.   Dad made no mention of travelling down Cajon Pass, but it must have been a hairy experience going down the dirt, rough, steep road, wondering if the brakes would hold out. By the time they neared San Bernardino, at the foot of the west slopes of the Sierra Nevada mountains, dad and Joe Rhodes were almost broke, one man not having paid his share of expenses. On their way into L.A. a guy drove up beside them wanting to race. Whitey responded and the two cars raced westward, the car jimmying and shaking on the rough road. It finally broke down, actually falling almost completely apart.

A man came out of a nearby house and seeing the mess suggested that they see what they could get for it from a nearby garage. He went to the garage and brought the owner out. The garageman looked the car over, saying that it was unrepairable and worth nothing to him. However, they pointed out the two new tires and asked for enough for a bus ride into L.A. The junk was worth enough for that and he gave them the needed money. They caught the next bus and rode west into the city, fascinated by the orange groves and grape vineyards through which they passed.

The first year of the folk's marriage had certainly been a difficult and disappointing one. Mother was back at his family's home with a baby, living off dad's parents and dad was in far away California. He had held several jobs that had not worked out well and they had had to move "from pillar to post." The prospects for a successful, happy marriage were certainly bleak.   Chapter 4

The Los Angeles Years 1923-1935

The young men landed in L.A. on a Saturday the middle of April of 1923 and got a room, two men to a bed at $1.50 a piece. The next morning they went out, walking up and down the sidewalk amazed by the sights, sounds and smells of the large city. It was Sunday with not much to do. Of course, they could have gone to church.

A stranger came along and asked them if they would like to go see the ocean. He said he was going out there and if they would follow him he would show them how to do it for nothing. He came to an open air bus that was hauling prospective investors for free to the new oil fields on Signal Hill near Long Beach. The man said that when the people started to get in, they should do likewise and it wouldn't cost them a penny. They followed his directions and enjoyed the ride as they headed south.

As they approached Signal Hill, their benefactor instructed them to follow him again. When the bus stopped, they went into a big tent filled with food and people waiting for the sales pitch. They got their fill and when their guide started to leave, they followed him. Dad and George Rhodes, who was a bit crippled, lagged behind them, dad giving what assistance he could.

A big fat guard, who had been watching for such freeloaders, started after them and they ran toward the streetcar that was about ready to take off for the beach. Even with George's gimpy leg, they were able to outrun their lumbering pursuer. They were just in time to catch the car, leaving the man behind, shaking his fist and swearing.

They spent the day basking in the sun, watching the waves come in and wading in the surf, returning by streetcar to their room in downtown Los Angeles where they had left their gear. The ride cost another $.10 and dad was getting close to broke.

Monday morning the group split up, dad heading south on foot on Broadway, with its streetcar tracks, for the home of mother's brother Roy on 80th near Vermont. He had offered dad a bed until he could get situated. Dad had 15 cents in his pocket. He soon realized how far-he had to go. Tired, he decided to ride. A streetcar came along going his direction so he got on, not knowing its destination, paid his dime and promptly fell asleep.   However, the car soon turned west on Jefferson Blvd. going out to Venice at the end of the line near the beach. When the conductor started to turn the seats around for the return trip, he awakened dad, saying that it was time to get off. Dad asked where he was and was told Venice. Dad said that he was headed for 80th and Vermont and was told that he was a long way from there. The conductor said he could ride back to Vermont and get a transfer there going south to 80th, saying it would cost a dime to the transfer point and then a dime for the transfer. Dad said he only had a nickel in his pocket. The kindly conductor finally told him he could stay on free and that he would furnish him with the transfer.

Dad arrived at Roy's and Sarah's only to find that two of Sarah's brothers were also staying there. All of them had expected to go to work for Lora's brother, Joe, who could now give none of them jobs as he was broke.

The three men were counseled to go out to the Standard Oil Company field on Signal Hill as they were hiring. They jumped in the brothers' car and drove out, applying for work. Evidently Sarah's two brothers only put on their applications that their previous work was on the farm, dad inferring that they did not get a job. Dad wrote down that he had been working in the Union Pacific railroad yards repairing tracks and cars. He got a job.

The company had a rail spur out away from the oil wells loaded with empty tankers. He was given a job, down inside tank cars, cleaning them. It was unhealthy, dangerous and miserable but dad needed the money to get mother and June down from Utah by his goal of June 13th, June's birthday.

Mother and June came down by train, arriving a few days before June's first birthday. Uncle Joe said they could stay at his place at Ocean Park near Venice, and fairly close to El Segundo where dad was working. They may have stayed there awhile, but soon got a tiny one room apartment with a hot plate and a shared bath, in Venice, near the beach and next to her brother Harold. They were there when June took her first step on her birthday, June 13th.

Putting up a notice on a bulletin board, Dad was able to secure a ride to work at Signal Hill with two men from Ocean Park. However, Roy and Rae started to build homes in Venice and dad soon went to work for them. While he was working, mother and June went down to the beach each day. In the evenings, dad would join them for walks up and down the boardwalk, eating hot dogs, hamburgers, pop corn and drinking root beer, doing little cooking.

A lull in home construction came and dad went out to Wilmington where Standard Oil was building an oil refinery, having to take a streetcar. He found many men standing in line, trying to get hired. Each day, Dad would get there early to be as near the   front of the line as possible. Each day a foreman came out looking for certain kinds of workers, leaving when he had secured them. On the 3rd day, as the man finished his recruiting and went inside the gate, dad snuck in behind him. Dad knew they needed mason tenders, so when the man asked what he could do dad told him he was one and he was referred to the mason foreman.

Dad approached the foreman, saying that he really had to have a job and was told that they had all the men they needed. But dad persisted, saying that he had a family and needed a job real bad. When asked where he lived, dad told him Venice. The man said that he had seen dad out there in line for several days and guessed that if he came that far and persisted as he had, that he really needed the work so dad was hired as a mason tender. The bricklayer to whom he was assigned was a bit skeptical as dad was young and quite small but finally decided to give him a try although tenders were usually big and burly. He told dad exactly what and how to do the work. Dad was able to keep up and was kept on.

The little family finally moved out to nearby Wilmington to an apartment in a large old house. Mother did not mention the following episode, but it was told by dad with great gusto. She only claimed to enjoy the days walking along the ocean with June and watching the waves come in.

According to dad, the wives, including mother, decided to work at the nearby fish cannery while their husbands were at work, the manager of the court taking care of the children. When dad got home that night, he found no one there so he went to the manager and found out what mother had done. He got June and went back to their little room to await mother's return.

Dad told mother he didn't want her to go to work as he was making, $7.00 a day, enough to support them. However, mother still went to work the next day when dad left. The following day, dad stayed in bed when she went to work, he staying home and taking care of June. When mother got home she asked what dad was doing there. He said that as she wanted to work, he would stay home and tend their daughter as he wasn't going to have someone else raise her. Mother reluctantly decided to give in to dad, not working outside the home for the rest of their married life.

Dad said that the reason he was so firm with mother about not working outside the home was because his father had said that he would do anything he could for father if he would not let his wife work outside the home, a growing practice in the woman liberating days of the 1920g. Grandpa said he just hated to see women working outside the home, especially mothers, because he had seen what happened when they went to work, leaving the children to run wild and the homes go to wrack and ruin, with the dirty dishes piled up and the homes messy and filthy.   When the brick work was done, they laid the men off but the foreman, who had taken a liking to dad, asked him if he could do anything else besides mason tending. Dad told him that he had worked for the railroad as a carpenter on construction, so he was retained for awhile to put wooden tops on the oil tanks. He stayed there until the carpenter work was done.

In the meantime, brothers-in-law, Roy and Ray, had shifted their construction operations to South Los Angeles and the folks moved to 78th Street, near Figueroa, dad going to work for them. This must have been where they were living when, upon the death of mother's sister Irene, Uncle Barney, with his older daughter, Thelma, living with them for awhile. Their tiny home must have been very crowded. The folks were living there, in back of the Eccleston's, when Joseph Kenneth was born at home on April 3Oth, 1925. According to mother, the birthing was attended by a midwife, Sister Dorius, an acquaintance of grandma Anderson's. Dad recalls a doctor being present. It is possible that with the difficult birth a doctor was called in by the midwife. However, dad was definitely present this time.

Stubborn Ken, not wanting to leave his comfortable nest, was a month late. Mother had quite a struggle giving birth as he was big, weighing 10 pounds and being 24 inches long. When born, he wasn't crying, so the midwife or doctor handed him to dad, telling him to get Ken to crying while mother was taken care of. Dad then hit Ken with a powerful wallop, not knowing how hard to hit, and he started to wail, drawing some critical comment from those present for his roughness. Grandma Davies came down from Utah to help mother during her convalescence.

The folks attended the nearby Matthews ward of the Church. One Sunday, a young boy, Ronnie Knight, asked dad if he could take him on the scheduled fathers and sons outing as his father couldn't do it. Dad was reticent at first but finally gave in figuring it would be a good experience for when he could take his own son. He did it again the next year. The third year he took both Ronnie Knight and his own two or three year old son, Kenneth. That must have been quite an experience and against mother's better judgment and protest.

About 1927, the family moved to a home on 93rd St. Shortly after the move, Ken came down with double pneumonia, almost dying. However, the Priesthood was brought to bear and he lived, another family testimony building experience. They lived just across the street from some purported bootleggers, keeping the whole family under considerable tension. Prohibition was then in force and makers and sellers of alcoholic beverages were considered criminals.

That same year, 1927, the Manchester Ward was created from the southern portion of the Matthews Ward with Wallace Simmons as   Bishop, and dad and Ervin Weech as counselors. Dad was presumably ordained a High Priest at that time. This was a period of very rapid growth for the Church in Southern California, younger Church members moving out of depression ridden Utah, Idaho and Arizona to more promising futures in the "southland."

The ward moved into a second floor dancehall on 108th and Broadway. Every Sunday morning the priesthood arrived to find the floors littered with cigarette butts and beer and whiskey bottles. The chore of cleaning up proved to be too burdensome and the stench too pervasive so that they soon began to plan for a chapel of their own.

In 1928 things were going so well personally that, in spite of his new calling, Joe and Lora decided that a trip to Utah and Idaho in their new Chevrolet was in order, probably to return dad's aunt Lisle home. She was rather well off and probably assisted if not paid for the trip. While she was in Los Angeles the family had taken a trip to Tia Juana, across the border in Mexico. Aunt Lisle, who loved a drop or two, put a bottle of liquor under each of her ample arms. The family was in a cold sweat until they successfully got through customs.

For the trip to Utah, Ken and June sat in the back seat with buxom Aunt Lisle. The seat was crowded but she made a soft, very comfortable support. The trip was made at night to avoid the oppressive heat of the day. In the middle of the night, someplace near Las Vegas, dad saw some ominous lights up ahead. Stories of highway bandits had filled newspaper headlines and dad feared that was what awaited them. He pushed the accelerator to the floor hoping to avoid the supposed bandits. As they neared the blockade, shots rang out and he pulled the car to a halt only to find some understandably edgy highway patrolmen looking for what dad feared. The folks also might well have worried that a search of the car would find the prohibited contraband liquor. Released, they drove on without incident.

The family had a good time on Will and Lucy's little farm and visiting other relatives in both Utah and Idaho, though mother's folks had moved to Los Angeles. However, June, six years of age, came down with rheumatic fever and they almost despaired of her life. One leg was drawn up, several inches shorter than the other. Once again a priesthood blessing, along with a lot of tender care and physical therapy by mother, was credited with saving her life and giving her normal use of her legs. Again a testimony building experience. Ken and Joe drove home to California alone, mother and June following on a train in a berth when June was sufficiently recovered. She retained no noticeable long term effects from the disease.

It is interesting in this day of knowledge about inherited genetic weaknesses that mother's father, mother and then June   suffered from a rheumatoid infection at about the same age. However, if there was a genetic predisposition, it apparently ended with June, there being no rheumatic fever in the family following her bout. It is suspected that that disease was endemic in Utah and Idaho, probably passed on in the untreated, infected water of the day.

When Bishop Simmons made the decision to build a chapel, Alma Summerhays was made chairman to raise the money. They decided to raffle a new car to attract people to donate. Dad and a couple of others were assigned to find a building site, locating three adjacent building lots for $3500 on 95th, between Figueroa and Hoover, on the west side of the ward. The bishop wanted the building on the east side of the ward near where he lived but most of the ward members supported the west side location.

The bishop was very unhappy about the location but must have given his reluctant approval. However, it did set up friction between dad and the bishop and the latter began to complain about it. In addition, the division among the members over the question created a situation that persisted for a considerable period of time even during dad's soon to come short tenure as bishop.

The stake presidency, with Leo J. Muir as president, nevertheless, must have approved the site. Dad was put in charge of construction and drew up a free hand plan for the building and it was then prepared by an architect and submitted to Salt Lake, getting their approval. The ward, under Summerhays, solicited contributions from the residents and businesses of the whole area, even going into Matthews Ward. A ward member, Elmo Durrant, won the new car. They raised enough to pay cash for the lots, and arrangements were made to start the building.

When the footings were dug and they began to pour the concrete, a young, very poor couple had a still-born baby. To bury it would have cost them $200 or so. They approached dad, who was in charge of construction, and perhaps the Bishop, and asked if they might bury a box in the footings. Dad claimed that he was unaware of the fact that the box contained the baby's remains and he gave his permission, however, admittedly because he felt sorry for them. (At the time of the interview by June, Dad admitted that he had probably done something he shouldn't have.)

About 1929, the family moved to a house on 98th, between Figueroa and Broadway, right across the street from the grade school that June attended and where Ken started the Kindergarten, mother says at four years of age. While living there, Ken had his foot run over and crushed by an ice cream truck. He had been up on a ledge along its side, getting ice. The driver had gotten in without seeing him, driving off and throwing Ken under the wheels, crushing his left foot. Dad felt so sorry for the driver that he never pressed any charges. However, the family was kept in a good   supply of ice cream for some time.

Another memory from the location of their home on 98th was the collapse of the cesspools all along the street. The contractor had made them of redwood planking but they soon rotted and collapsed. Tales of people walking out into their backyards and falling into the pits were rampant. In fact, mother claims to have done so. The company that had constructed the homes went bankrupt and unable to make the repairs. The family had to move. They found a little house on 96th Street, between Figueroa and Hoover, and right in back of where they were building the Manchester Ward House.

Dad was called as bishop of the Manchester Ward in January of 1930. He was ordained a bishop, selecting Alma Summerhays and Levan Boyle as counselors. His brother-in-law, Orson Tyler, was his ward clerk. The first and only known marriage dad performed was that of John and Ila Trease on June 22, 1930. The Treases would come to play an important role in the lives of the Davies family two or so decades later.

In the meantime, the Great Depression had begun in the fall of 1929 with the collapse of the New York Stock Market. The depression in the rural areas of the country now spread to the cities, including booming California. Construction soon almost ceased and what carpentry work dad could secure was insufficient to maintain the family. To make matters worse, the banks began to fail, many losing their life's savings. The folks may have lost their savings at that time. Dad commenced selling life insurance for the Church's Beneficial Life Insurance Company, requiring a great deal of evening work on top of everything else.

Mother was pregnant again and under very great stress with father being gone so much. She became quite ill and her pregnancy terminated at about four months.

June was baptized into the Church in June of 1930, dad performing the ordinance. She remembers it as taking place in the baptismal font of the Manchester Ward. If so, it must have been in the unfinished font, as the building must have been far from completed. The font was made of concrete and was covered, when not in use, by 2 x 12 planks. The covered font also would serve as the location for the sacrament table on Sunday's.

The Manchester meeting house had one large assembly room with moveable benches that could be pushed to the sides for dances and banquet's. There being no carpeting, and with moveable benches, meetings were often rather noisy. The classrooms and podium were arranged in a U shape around the hall, with a large patio running from the chapel to the street. It would be many years before a more convenient chapel would be added, long after the folks had moved from the area.   During dad's tenure as bishop, a vivid memory of Ken was coming into the front room of their home one evening and seeing a group of people dressed in white standing in a circle. They were conducting a prayer circle for someone, evidently somewhat like that conducted in the temples. It is not known whether this was an unauthorized procedure or if it was customary at the time. Many chapels at that time had prayer circle rooms, dedicated solely for that purpose. Needless to say Ken was quickly ushered out.

The family was intensely involved with the Church, attending Sunday School, Primary, Sacrament meeting, and Priesthood for dad. Holidays were usually spent with mother's family members still in California. Her parents had moved there from Idaho about 1925. The usual family member attending these events included Harold and Muriel, Leland and Ruby, Lisla and Orson, Winnie and eventually her new husband Dave, Fae and Al, and occasionally Raymond, Joe, Arnold, Elaine and Ron, and their families. There were outings to the beach, usually Long Beach, and to Griffith Park.

Dad took Ken on numerous Fathers and Sons outings. On one occasion, dad, following the example of his father, threw Ken into a swimming pool expecting him to learn to swim, just as dad had. It didn't work that way with Ken. Dad had to rescue him. It took a long time before Ken lost his fear of water sufficiently to learn to swim, although he was comfortable with wading.

One Fathers and Sons outing was in the Santa Monica Mountains to the north of Hollywood. On Saturday morning, Ken and a friend set out to find a purported abandoned Indian encampment that was probably an old movie set. They soon returned, unsuccessful in their search. In the meantime, when dad discovered Ken's absence, he set out to find him, walking and searching for hours. Discouraged and frightened, he finally returned to the camp to secure help in the search, only to find Ken and his friend enjoying camp life. While he deserved it, Ken cannot remember a spanking or even a severe tongue lashing, only the ashen face of his father.

The family usually attended the quarterly conferences of the South Los Angeles Stake that had been divided from the Los Angeles Stake. These were held in a school auditorium in Huntington Park. President Heber J. Grant attended one of these, a notable occasion especially to the family when grandpa Anderson sent a note to the Prophet challenging him on some statement he had made on the Book of Mormon in his address. The family was very embarrassed.

During much of this Los Angeles period mother was busy with painting, sewing and other handicrafts, taking classes in these arts. For many years a painting of an old Spanish Mission, done on a high grade burlap, decorated one of the walls in the home. She also made heavy velvet, red colored drapes that were used for many years. They must have secured them before the Great Depression hit the family. These drapes would later be used to separate off the   sleeping quarters of a future home and part of them would be used for an outfit for a future granddaughter.

June was heavily involved in dancing and singing for the public. Ken occasionally participated with her as well as took a few violin lessons and played once in public, rather poorly. The folks had visions of June becoming a child movie star, just like Shirley Temple. She was certainly cute and talented enough, being entered into a number of contests, and doing quite well, actually singing on the radio, Mr. Mac's Amateur Hour.

One winter, probably 1930-31 while on 96th Street, the family awakened one morning to several inches of snow, a rare occurrence in Los Angeles. They had a great time trying to make a snowman and scooting around on the snow that soon melted when the sun came up.

While there, dad and Ken also had an experience that could have been disastrous. Dad had parked his Chevrolet facing the little house the family lived in. Ken was in the car, standing behind the steering wheel, probably to advance the spark as soon as the engine turned over. Dad was out cranking the car to get it started, a not infrequent and dangerous chore as the crank would often kick back hard enough to break the arm. In fact, mother's sister, Aunt Lisla, broke her's in this way.

Dad had mistakenly left the car in gear and when the engine started, the car started forward toward the house, dad instinctively crying out 'Whoa, Whoa!" as if he had a team of runaway horses in hand. He was being pushed backward as he tried to stop it. Ken was not mature enough to understand that his "whoa" meant to turn the engine off. Dad jumped out from in front of the car just before it ran up the steps and rammed into the house. Dad repaired the hole in the front of the house but that may have been the reason our Jewish landlady asked us to move.

About 1932, the family moved to 97th Street near Vermont Boulevard with its streetcar tracks in the middle of the wide busy road. The kids had to cross the tracks, that were set above the surface of the wide dirt space between the asphalt strips, to get to school. Mother probably took them across that busy and dangerous road.

A great event in 1932 was the Olympic Games, held in Los Angeles and its environs. We attended one event, some swimming matches, but also enjoyed driving around to observe the Olympics village and the many athletes as they proudly strolled about, dressed in their fancy Olympic uniforms.

The year of 1932, the national elections took place, with the Democrat, Franklin Delano Roosevelt defeating the Republican Herbert Hoover. The folks may have voted for Roosevelt, hoping for relief from the Depression. However, the folks later became   Republican oriented, perhaps because of the support of unions by the Democrats. Or it may have been because one of the first acts of the new Congress and President was to repeal Prohibition that had been supported by Church leaders.

While on 97th street the family experienced the great earthquake of 1933. Dad was out selling insurance in Compton when he heard an ethereal voice say, "Go home." He had another appointment and hesitated, hearing again a voice to go home. He obeyed and had just arrived home for supper, the family sitting down when the quake hit. Dad tried to get us out of the house, hitting the jammed backdoor with all his might. We finally made it. We were all O.K. but spent the evening, huddled together watching the chandelier and a pie tin of water, awaiting the aftershocks.

The next day we rode out to see the damages, going by the place dad had parked his car just before coming home the evening before. The brick face of the building had collapsed right where his car had been located and a lady crushed to death. The same thing happened to brick buildings all over the city resulting in radical changes in the Los Angeles building code.

About that time, there was a powerful explosion and fire on Signal Hill, where dad had worked, killing a substantial number of people and seriously injuring many more. The story was told of people wandering about with their ruptured eardrums hanging out.

The period of 1931-33 was especially meaningful to June and Ken, mother spending a good deal of time with them on her knees as she sang to them. She must have been very lonely with dad away so much trying to sell insurance, a difficult task in the Depression, and also serving as a bishop, along with completing the Manchester Ward meetinghouse and the unexpected loss of her baby. June and Ken were not aware of this loss, or at least don't remember it.

A trip to the La Brea tarpits in L.A. where many dinosaurs were recovered was memorable, as was trip to Catalina with friends. There were also occasional visits with dad's brother, Ervin and Aunt Lillie. He managed a furniture store from which we purchased some of our household effects. Especially remembered was a set of green, iron twin bedsteads for June and Ken, who shared a bedroom and would until about 1939.

In the meantime, dad served as the bishop of Manchester Ward only until May of 1932. The details of the reasons for his early release are not entirely clear. However, in a somewhat incoherent way, toward the end of his life dad said that he had wrongly been accused of getting "too friendly" with the Young Women's president. He said that he had been out on his insurance business when he saw her stranded a long way from home, and that he simply took her   there. Evidently, he said, someone in the former Bishop Simmons camp saw him and reported it to Simmons, who took it to the Stake President, Leo J. Muir, who then released dad. Mother when questioned about it, many years later, said that dad was often a little too friendly with the women and that all of this may have been misinterpreted as something more than innocent.

While the folks must have been hurt by his release, the children do not remember any complaint. That was a firm rule in the Davies household--never criticize those in authority in the Church.

It wasn't too long after the quake of 1933 that the family moved again, this time to 87th Place between Figueroa and Broadway, across the street from grandpa and grandma Anderson, as well as mother's sister, Lisla, and uncle Orson Tyler.

On May 1, 1933, President Heber J. Grant dedicated the Manchester Ward building, the construction of which dad had superintended. A few days later, Ken was baptized by dad in the now dedicated baptismal font.

On July 17th, 1933 Thomas Leland was born in the Southwest Hospital, a few blocks away, attended by Dr. Freestone, an L.D.S. doctor. Mother came down with a serious blood infection and spent a considerable time in the hospital, almost dying. The nurses called Tom "dimples" because of his chubbiness and deep dimples. And there was no question; he was a real cutey.

June and Ken attended school nearby, at the corner of Hoover and Manchester, in tents, the buildings having been condemned in the quake. During the summer, they had a lot of fun wading in the nearby municipal pool. The polio epidemic was just getting started and swimming pools became suspect as a major source of the spreading disease. Luckily they avoided the dreaded illness.

They also attended the movies most every Saturday afternoon after the Saturday work was done. They occasionally attended the fancy, more expensive ($.25) Manchester theater with its huge organ, vaudeville shows and contests. They more frequently attended the Mayfair, not quite so expensive ($.15) and often with complete fares of cartoons, as well as occasionally the dumpy and scary Mecca ($.10). Every once in awhile, perhaps once a month, the whole family would go out for a show and/or a hamburger.

These depression years forced many people to do strange things to try and get extra money. One of the most popular was marathon dancing in which huge tents were erected, admission charged, and couples danced to see who could last the longest. One young lady in the ward was severely criticized for participating in such unseemly activity.   June seems to have been a very healthy girl during the Los Angeles period while Ken was quite sickly, with frequent earaches and his case of double pneumonia. He was also accident prone. In addition to having his foot run over, about 1934 he was hit by a car at dusk as he was enthusiastically returning home from the store with a couple loaves of bread (a real bargain at 2 loaves for 15 cents) for supper. He was taken by ambulance, with ashen faced dad riding beside him, to the Children's Hospital in downtown L.A. where they discovered four broken ribs.

On occasion the folks would go with friends to visit one of the gambling ships sitting off Long Beach just outside the legal 3 mile limit. The ships provided free transportation from Long Beach and were favorite and probably forbidden pleasure palaces. This may have been where dad picked up his penchant for playing the slot machines in Las Vegas whenever the family passed through that area, However he never played to excess, we must hastily add.

One New Years Eve, while the folks were gone dancing with a group at the Rainbow Gardens, the rain, which had been going on for sometime, came down especially hard. The streets became flooded, our's filling up almost to the top of the front stoop. June and Ken, who were home alone, sort of looked over by grandpa and grandma Anderson who lived across the street, awakened to find New Year's Eve revelers cavorting in the flood waters of our street. The chagrined folks were very late, getting stuck in the flooded roads on the way home.

It has never been admitted as to the reason the family lived in 6 houses between 1925 and 1933. In later years, mother does admit to having trouble at times paying their rent. Or it may simply have been restlessness and unhappiness with the poor quality of the housing.

In the summer of 1934, the family made another trip to Utah and Idaho, this time without aunt Lisle to lean against as June and Ken slept, again it being in the night to avoid the heat. One year old Tom slept on mother's lap. The kids remember nothing until the car veered off the road into the borrow pit at the side of the road, near Cedar City, dad having fallen asleep. They next remember being awakened about two miles south of Cove Fort, when the car came to a halt.

Somehow dad got us pulled into Cove Fort. Upon examination, dad and the local gas attendant decided that the drive shaft was broken. The spare axle dad had brought along was of little use. Chevvies seemed to be especially susceptible to breaking their axles at that time and owners frequently carried a spare axle about as much as a spare tire.

Dad could not find a replacement in the towns to the north and south so had to go to Salt Lake, hitchhiking, but returning by bus.

While at Cove Fort for three days, Lora and the children stayed in a tiny, one room cottage with one double bed, June and Ken sleeping in the car. June and Ken had a good time riding horses and jumping from the beams of the big barn into the loosely stacked hay below. Mother, caring for a baby in a tiny cabin, didn't have much fun.

Setting out at dusk, the next sleepy memory was of the battery coming loose, dad finally getting it fixed, somehow. That was followed by running out of gas in the middle of the night, rescued by a highway patrolman. When dawn came the family was finally at the family farm in Plain City, greeted by dad's folks and his youngest brother, Cliff, who declared that one year old Tom was sure "a cute little s ."

The family remained in Utah and Idaho for quite sometime. Evidently dad and mom were trying to decide whether or not to escape the depression of Los Angeles for the depression of Utah and/or Idaho. However, the economic prospects of Mormon country offered little if any hope. Certainly grandpa Davies' 20 acres of potato land could not support them. And they could no longer have any support from mother's folks as they had moved to California.

After the crops were all harvested and all of the relatives visited, the family returned to their home on 87th Place. A decision had to be made about how they would meet the challenges of unemployment and poverty.

Living was indeed difficult. Father, out of regular employment, frequently brought home very poor quality, surplus commodities from a government storehouse. The vegetables and fruits were typically shriveled up. Cheap fish, liver and beans were our usual protein fare. Because of trichinosis, frequently found in pork liver, mother cooked it until it could have readily been used as shoe leather. A lot of catsup and onions improved the taste but not its consistency. Also the cheapest of fish, very bony, was frequently used, our plates piled high with fish bones, and our nerves on edge for fear that we would swallow one and get it caught in our throats. An occasional greasy hamburger or sausage patty was a real treat.

Dad did not have employment at his occupation of a carpenter but eked out a living selling insurance. Uncle Orson Tyler, a skilled cabinet maker, was reduced to handing out shopping flyers. Grown men rather than boys delivered daily newspapers. We tried to supplement the family income a little by mother making aprons, pot holders and bread and rolls, sending Ken and June out to peddle them. Ken also gathered old newspapers, rolled them up, tied them with string and carted them in his little wagon to the Japanese fruit and vegetable market on Broadway, selling them for a few pennies. They were used to wrap the produce in rather than use "expensive" paper sacks.   However, in spite of what later seemed privations, we had a happy family. At least the children did not feel particularly hard done by although mother and dad must have spent many a sleepless night trying to decide how to solve their economic problems.

Most of the area in which the family lived between 1929 and 1935 would eventually be razed, making way for the Harbor Freeway, linking downtown Los Angeles with its harbor, San Pedro.   Chapter 5

The El Monte Years--Phase 1 1935-1946

The El Monte years will be divided into two periods. Period 1 will consist of the years 1935-1946, Period 2 being from 1946-1975, when the folks' 52 year sojourn in California ended.

Shortly after the family's return from their long, abortive trip to Utah and Idaho in the summer and fall of 1934, the process of finding a new place of residence was begun. Many hours and days were spent by mother and father looking. They finally learned of a development in El Monte, known as the "End of the Santa Fe Trail" about 16 miles east of downtown Los Angeles. It was also noted for its Gay's Lion Farm, the source of many a movie lion. The roar of its occupants could frequently be heard late at night, although two miles away. It was open to the public for a price but we never went to see it.

The old, worm infested walnut groves in North El Monte were being subdivided into what were called "commercial acres" actually about 3/4 of an acre. The folks found a lot 100' x 298', for $15.00 down and $ 15.00 a month, on Emery Street, between Cogswell and Maxson roads, with all the water they wanted for the flat rate of $1.50 a month. Where dad got the first $15.00 is a mystery.

The location had the additional advantage a being located but a couple of blocks from the San Gabriel River bed, where sand and gravel could be secured without charge. Actually, the area was located between two usually dry rivers, the San Gabriel and the Rio Hondo, that would provide some excitement in the years to come.

Dad was somehow able to convince Glen Wilcox, a member of the Church who managed a lumber yard in Baldwin Park, to sell him cement, bolts, lumber, roofing etc. on credit. With the help of a brother-in-law, Barney Anderson, the concrete floor of what was supposed eventually to be a garage was poured. It was, typical of the period and location, to become known hopefully as a garage house for a more conventional home.

The walls went up, the rafters raised, the siding in place to the height of 3 feet, a crude chick sales (outhouse) was constructed, to be used, with its old Sears-Roebuck catalogue, for two years. The family moved in the early summer of 1935. We came with a truck loaded high with the family's accumulated house-hold goods, Uncle Orson helping with the move. We looked not unlike the   Oakies and Arkies then pouring into California. In fact we had a Oakie couple, their marital status uncertain, living right next door. Our family had a lot of fun getting dressed in the mornings behind the three foot walls until dad could afford more siding.

The soil was sandy loam and very easy to till. One of the biggest problems was the abundance of gophers that could devastate the garden almost as effectively as the ground squirrels up Wellsville Canyon, early in mother's and father's marriage. Another problem was the Devil Grass that had been allowed to take over. It was indestructible. Dad cut down all but three of the walnut trees, one of these serving as shade for the little house and another for the livestock. He hired a man to come in with a team and do the initial plowing, the earth being compacted with several years' growth of weeds. And we started to plant: tomatoes, string beans, corn, squash of several varieties, sweet and irish potatoes, strawberries, raspberries, youngberries along with avocado, peach, apricot, fig and lemon trees. We also got livestock started with chickens, ducks, turkeys and rabbits. Milk could be secured from the Sunshine Dairy, a block away, for $.10 a quart, cheaper than we could keep a cow.

Dad, whose youth had more than qualified him, initiated Ken into the mysteries of farming. However, the farmwork did not exempt Ken from helping mother and June with the housework, something he had been doing for several years. Water was soon piped into the house but Mother cooked outside for awhile until natural gas was piped in. Chili beans were a common fare as was oatmeal mush for breakfast. We were without doors and windows and even a roof for several weeks.

About the time the family moved in, Dad got work for the W.P.A., or Works Project Administration, a federal program, among others, then constructing the flood water control systems in the county. His pay was $65.00 a month. He also worked for the United States Engineering Department. The government relief-work employment, although the pay was low, was a godsend. He was making about what he made in the Idaho stockyards in 1916-1920, but without the room and board.

The government employment gave the folks some guilt feelings as the Church leaders were preaching against government relief and the W.P.A. was usually considered as such. However, to feed his family, put a roof over their heads and clothe them, the folks had to swallow their pride and their guilt feelings. The Church itself, had no welfare program at that time. All it could do was preach "self-reliance." Dad continued with this employment until about 1939. He was, nevertheless, able occasionally to get a small construction job on his own that he worked Saturdays.

Dad was not known to have worked on Sundays except to occasionally work on house plans. That day was reserved for Church   and family visiting, as well as an occasional ride between Sunday School, held 10:00-12:00 a.m., and Sacrament Meeting, held at 7:00 p.m.each Sunday evening. The family seldom ever missed. Even when they went into L.A. to visit grandpa and grandma Anderson on Sunday afternoons, they usually returned in time for church.

Shortly before school started in the fall of 1935, and usually each year after that until the war, the family, would go to downtown L.A. on Saturdays to shop for clothes for the school year, sometimes taking the Pacific Electric Red Car that ran along San Bernardino Road. One pair of shoes was expected to last Ken for the year, along with three pairs of socks, two pairs of corduroy pants, and a couple of sport shirts, with one white shirt for Sunday. June also had one pair of school shoes, to last the whole year, one pair of dress shoes, two skirts and blouses and two dresses they too were to last the whole year. Two year old Tom's clothing needs were simple and minimal at first.

When in L.A. on these trips, the family frequently took advantage of the soup kitchen in the basement of the Clifton Restaurant charitably maintained by the owners as a bargain eating place for the poor, soup being but a penny a bowl, bread free.

June and Ken entered Columbia Grammar School riding grouchy, old Mr. Henry's ancient bus #5 that only had oil cloth covers for the side windows, with plastic peepholes. It wouldn't have been so bad if it had been a usual California winter in 1935-36 but it was one of the coldest on record. They caught the bus about 7:30 a.m. When June moved on to high school, to the envy of Ken, she caught a big, new bus at 7:00 a.m.

Columbia had grades from Kindergarten through the 8th grade, except for the substantial number of Mexican and Japanese children who up through the 3rd grade attended the three story Lexington school. The school building had been condemned in the earthquake of 1933. They joined the rest of us in the 4th grade. We had no Negroes as they were by law prevented from living in El Monte. We were a racist community but didn't realize it at the time. Most of the Mexicans lived in a barrio with unpaved streets. Most other streets were paved with an asphalt surface running down the middle with no sidewalks, curbs or gutters in our rural section of town, two miles outside of the town limits.

That winter was also one of the blackest in history. The nearby citrus groves continuously burned tires and oil in smudge pots in an attempt to keep their fruit from freezing and the air was black with soot. The family awakened each morning with blackened upper lips from breathing in the befouled air. Without hot water, a bathtub or even a shower, we travelled to grandpa and grandma Anderson's once a week for a good bath. In between, we used a big metal tub, usually with the same water for all of us, as it had to be heated on the gas stove. Dad was usually the last one   to take a bath, though by then it must have done him little good so far as dirt was concerned. You can imagine the problem with the linens.

For heat, the house had a small, thin metal wood stove that was kept red hot by the walnut wood that had been cut into small pieces. With the flue running through the outside wooden wall, how the house kept from being burned down was a mystery if not a miracle. At first, the entire family slept in a section of the house draped off from the rest with our red velvet drapes, left over from more prosperous times. It was a noisy place at night, with dad, and for awhile grandpa Davies while building his home, snoring in the same room. However, the accumulated body heat of six people may have kept us from freezing to death.

Gradually over the years, dad improved the house, putting celotex on the walls and ceiling, laying the cheapest of carpet on the floors, dividing the house into three areas (living, kitchen and bedroom) then adding a backporch with a tiny bathroom. An old, poorly functioning Crapper was secured with its overhead tank that frequently failed to shut off, filling the inadequately constructed septic tank and overflowing onto the floor. He also made a concrete tub that served only as a deep, unsanitary shower floor, it being too rough and uncomfortable to serve as a bathtub. It was probably responsible for the spread of athlete's foot in the family. Each improvement was, however, greeted with excitement.

Eventually a second bedroom, initially for June, Ken and Tom was added. It was understandable that as June matured, it was r.o long appropriate for Ken to share the room. He was moved to the couch in the front room, with dreams of a room of his own, not to be fulfilled for two or three years. A concrete slab was poured, next to the garage-shed, on which Ken could only dream would be constructed a room of his own. He did get so far as drafting a plan for his dream room. However, the only use of the slab was for loosening the husks from the walnuts and the dried corn kernels from the cobs.

The new bedroom was plastered, using used plaster lathes that dad had salvaged from someplace or another, bringing it home in the backseat of the old, increasingly disreputable and embarrassing Chevy. The lathe was cleaned of old plaster and denailed by Ken. In fact, we never knew what salvage Dad would bring home in the back of that old Chevy.

In 1936, grandpa and grandma Davies built a little house and large, barn-like garage on the adjacent lot and moved in. Uncle Cliff slept in the old sheepwagon they brought with them. Utah had become too difficult for even them.

In 1937, grandpa and grandma Anderson celebrated their 50th Wedding anniversary, with family members gathering from all over   the west. Of their fifteen children, only Irene had passed away. All of the rest were present along with their spouses. Most of their 65 or so grandchildren were present along with many great grandchildren. The festivities were held in the Manchester Ward House that dad had built, with a picture taken of the entire group, about a hundred of us, in the patio.

In 1939, with an economic recovery and with dad's new building contracts taking the place of W.P.A., the folk's finances improved to where they had purchased a brand-new streamlined Willy's fourdoor sedan to replace the wornout Chevy. Dad also purchased an old beat up truck, carrying a sign "Bring your building troubles to Joe" with his full name, address and telephone number. We could now travel in style in our nice, new car.

In fact, we took a vacation, traveling north through California's national parks and giant redwoods, visiting uncle Ervin and Aunt Lillie, who had moved to Bakersfield, and Aunt Lisla and Uncle Orson Tyler in Ione. We went to the International Exposition on Yerba Buena Island. Located in San Francisco Bay, it was connected with both sides of the bay by the giant, new engineering marvel, the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. The Golden Gate Bridge was also a great engineering fete and sight, although it soon became known as a "Suicide Bridge."

In the winter and spring of about 1938-39, the rains came to Southern California. Ordinarily a very dry climate, these were monsoon rains that filled the dams and rivers and the flood control facilities. It was fascinating to visit the nearby rivers, watching houses, cars, barns, trees and animals headed toward the Pacific Ocean. Peck road, to the north of the Rio Hondo, became a river, draining the foothill community of Monrovia.

One evening, when the folks were away, having left June and Ken to fix a supper of pork chops and other unremembered comestibles, a sheriff's car drove by warning everyone to evacuate as the San Gabriel Dam, in the mountains above us, was about to break. Supper was prepared and Ken and June began to pile various household items as high as possible. It was with considerable relief and pride in their accomplishment that they greeted the folks when the folks arrived home.

They commended us for what we had done, the food was grabbed and the car was loaded. A caravan consisting of the Elmer Riches, who lived down the street, in the lead, with us in the middle and with grandpa and grandma in their old Model A truck in the rear, piled high. We headed for the Pomona Hills as the nearest point of safety. However, as we travelled Francisquito Boulevard in Baldwin Park, a new river was flowing across it and the Riches got stuck, with us following. Fortunately, grandpa's old truck was powerful and high enough, to push us both out, the water up to the floor boards. We made it to the hills and with thousands of others,   including animals from the nearby winter quarters of the Barnum- Bailey Circus, spending a rather sleepless night. The dam held and we returned home the next day.

During that period, a knock came to our door very late at night, reminiscent of Wellsville Canyon many years before. Evidently, dad was up with the only lights on in the area, probably working on house plans for some homes he was hoping or planning to build for the Scotts in Temple City. A bedraggled, frightened looking man said that he had gotten stuck as he tried to travel on a road that crossed the rain swollen San Gabriel riverbed. Dad got into his truck and was able to rescue the man's car and its occupants.

In March of 1939, grandpa Davies passed away in Ogden, Utah at 68 years of age, being buried in the family plot in Plain City. To us kids, he was a jolly, fat man usually dressed in his striped farmer bib overalls and we all loved him. Mother, by later accounts, saw him as having little concern or respect for grandma, having made her a drudge.

Grandpa had never been able to give up smoking his handrolled cigarettes and an occasional pipe. A persistent memory is one of him with a quarter inch cigarette stub burning between his scarred lips. His long years of smoking may well have contributed to his early demise. He also was not a teetotaler. Grandma Davies continued to live in the little house next door with uncle Cliff until he built them a new home some years later.

The Scotts were subdividing their small orange grove in Temple City and wanted dad to build several homes, financed by the F.H.A. (Federal Housing Authority) another of the New Deal programs to help the nation get out of the Great Depression. Dad was able to take advantage of the resultant building boom and the family's fortune began to improve. Dad was able to put Ken to work in the construction, with Ken and June cleaning the completed homes. Their pay was $2.00 a week.

In addition, by this time dad's construction operations had expanded to include the hiring of his brother Adna and brother-in- law Barney. A nephew, Don Anderson, also worked for dad at some point. The business arrangements with them are not clear as dad was very closed mouth. It seems that he hired the men rather than have them as partners, probably at minimum pay. One morning they appeared in the driveway talking agitatedly with him. After an extended period, they separated, dad coming into the house red under the collar. It is suspected that they were either demanding higher wages or some kind of a partnership. The results of the confrontation are uncertain and they did continue to work together.

Not only did June and Ken have their duties around home, they also hired themselves out whenever possible. June frequently was   involved in cleaning the little garage house of Jackie and Charlie Gregg and doing some baby sitting for people in the ward. Ken also occasionally baby sat and hoed weeds for neighbors.

However, at 14 years of age Ken became dissatisfied with the little bit of money he had to spend, and, becoming increasingly independent, he went to work as an usher at the El Monte Theater, working 30 or so hours a week, including Sunday afternoons and evenings, for $6.00. He later worked for a grocery store. His Sunday work, that usually took him away from Sacrament Meeting, did not please the folks but he was pretty headstrong about it, wanting more spending money, and dad would not increase his wages. In addition, he usually worked in the school cafeteria for his lunch in the 7th-9th grades, not caring much for the soggy tomato or peanut butter sandwiches that found their way into his homemade lunches.

June, who entered El Monte High School in 1936, had made a name for herself in Columbia with her beautiful contralto voice. She became even more popular in high school as a song leader for athletic and other events, as well as with her solo singing. Ken always thought she looked a lot like a favorite movie actress, June Allyson. June's natural talents were enhanced by the scholarship dancing lessons given her by Lillian Haughton. She frequently added to the spirituality of sacrament meetings with her beautiful voice. Two favorites were The Lord's Prayer and The Lost Chord. For non-religious performances, it was Alice Blue Gown.

Ken, with far less talent than enthusiasm, was also in a number of musical productions at both schools. He also took lessons from Mrs. Haughton with far less accomplishment. While both were provided lessons without charge, they frequently took produce from our little farm in partial repayment. Mrs. Haughton was the wife of a prominent Los Angeles lawyer and a former professional dancer.

Ken enrolled in the new El Monte Union High School in 1939 and June graduated the following year. Tom had started grade school several years earlier, about 1938, attending nearby Cherry Lee. Ken tried out for track and football but soon learned they were not for him. He tried for the concert orchestra playing the violin but was soon tactfully moved to the marching band where he could do far less harm to John Philip Souza with a horn than to Beethoven with a violin.

Over these pre-war, depression years mother's health was generally poor. However, father's constitution was like steel. He was, however, subject to accidents. Two occurrences come especially to mind. We had an abundance of black widows around our home and we were taught how to avoid a dangerous bite. However, dad was somehow bitten on the leg. It swelled up to twice its normal size and turned black. We were frightened by his possible   loss. On another occasion, when he was doing some of his scavenging of used building materials, a large case fell on him, injuring his back. He would suffer other accidents over the years but was never heard to complain and would be back to work within a short time.

The year of 1939 was the year when Europe entered war with the invasion of Poland by Nazi Germany on May 4th. England and France had committed themselves to come to the defense of that hapless nation, declaring war. The U.S. hoped to remain out of direct involvement, prospering from the sale of arms and other commodities to the Allies. "America First" was the popular slogan of the day, President Franklin D. Roosevelt promising to keep us from becoming entangled in a foreign war. His famous disavowal was: "I hate war; my wife Eleanor hates War." Our little farm now had patriotic appeal as food came into short supply. We were helping the war effort.

The resultant prosperity was what, in the thinking of many of the economists of a later period, got the U.S. out of the Great Depression. However, the government relief programs of the late 1930s had helped many millions of people survive until the prosperity came. And the Davies family had benefitted greatly by them. Fortunately dad's independence and hard work was never stifled and he was able to take advantage of the opportunities that came along and especially as he created them. He was always hustling.

Mother's role had been that of a homemaker, making do with the little income dad brought home during the dark days of the Depression. The family didn't starve but the purchased food was not always plentiful nor of the best quality. One day dad came home with a couple bags of rolled oats proud of the bargain he had gotten. Mother cooked some of it up for breakfast, but it turned out to be unprocessed rolled oats for animals and too coarse for the family's innards. However, another time dad came home with the backseat filled with large, beautiful oranges. A truck loaded with choice fruit destined for export had lost its load on a curve on Durfee Road and dad was fortunate enough to come along at just the right time, before the scavengers got them. They were the first decent oranges that we could remember having.

When the family moved to North El Monte, they became a part of the Baldwin Park Ward, then in the San Bernardino Stake, with the stake headquarters in San Bernardino, some 40 miles to the east. We generally, if not always, attended the two day conferences in that distant city. One of the last and better remembered conferences was presided over by an Apostle, who devoted most of his talk to the subject of chastity. It was a great shock when a few years later he was excommunicated for the lack of it.

About 1940, the ward was transferred to the East Los Angeles   Stake, with Alhambra as the location of stake headquarters. Not long afterwards, the stake president visited our ward sacrament meeting, as he did all of the other wards in the stake. He shocked the congregation as he announced his excommunication. The word was that it was for adultery. These two experiences were a real shock, especially to the youth.

Cliff Ross Dana, a newspaper publisher in Glendora, was the bishop. In 1937, Ken became a deacon and a Tenderfoot Boy Scout. June, of course, had been very active in the Y.W.M.I.A. as a Beehive in Los Angeles, becoming a Laurel shortly after moving to El Monte. By 1940 Ken was a Teacher and June a very popular and well-dated Gleaner. Ken never made it to the Life and Eagle ranks only becoming a Star Scout.

When Leland J. Payne, a photographic animator at the Disney Studios, was named to succeed Bishop Dana, about 1940, dad was called as one of his counselors. While church had always been important and our activity intense, it became even more so as dad's Church involvement kept him even more involved, especially in the evenings, and of course on Sundays.

Over the years, father was noted for his uncomfortably long prayers. However, one Sunday testimony meeting, a brother in the ward, who was a bit strange from a horse kicking him in the head, was asked to pray. He went on and on and on. Bishop Payne finally had dad, who was conducting, stop him, an embarrassment to the family.

Monday evenings were devoted to Genealogy, Tuesday nights to Young Men's and Young Women's Mutual Improvement Association (M.I.A.) meetings, with Relief Society in the mornings. Friday evenings usually saw some kind of church social activity, often with chili bean suppers to raise money for something or other. Saturday mornings were devoted to Primary, in which mother was usually involved. Other times frequently found the family gathered at church to assist in canning stringbeans in the basement as part of the church welfare program just getting off the ground. While there was less need for welfare production with the increasing prosperity, the canning became important during the war to come to help relieve food shortages.

Several times a year our family had an outing at one of the beaches, from Long Beach south. However, it seemed that about every time we had one scheduled, dad would also plan some building activity (it seemed like it was usually cement work) in the morning that wasn't supposed to take very long. And we would have to wait and wait for him, significantly reducing our time at the beach, probably contributing to our health vis a vis skin cancer later in life. Holidays, Fathers and Sons outings, and these occasional beach outings were about the only time we saw dad play. He was much too busy earning a living to get out and play ball with us.   When June graduated from high school in 1940, she little knew that her carefree life would soon be changed. She was a very popular young lady. She planned to make the transition into adulthood at Brigham Young University. However in 1941, at 19 years of age, she was called on a mission to the North Central States, with headquarters in Minneapolis, Minnesota, first serving in South Dakota. Younger young ladies were being called at that time because the young men had begun to be drafted into the army, in case the war should come to our shores. The national attitude now was "If war was inevitable, it was best to be prepared." So the propaganda went.

The family was at church on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, when the Japanese planes bombed Pearl Harbor. We were not aware of this terrible event until we got home from church. It was a terrible shock to the family.

It did not take long for all of the Japanese on the West Coast, including our area, to be put into a temporary detention camp on the parking lot of the Santa Anita race track, to soon be moved inland to what were known in Europe as concentration camps and we called detention centers. A Japanese family ran a beautiful truck farm a half block away. They, too, were evacuated. It was rumored, falsely without any verification, that they had been maintaining a short wave radio for communicating with their homeland and/or Japanese subs just off the coast. However, it was with sadness that we children saw so many of our school friends leave. All properties of the "alien enemies" were confiscated without reimbursement.

We had entered a new, frightening world, a new phase in our family's life. We left a world to which we could never return.

In the winter of 1941-42, the folks made the wise decision to construct a new, more conventional and commodious home. Their decision was fortuitous as building supplies would become increasingly difficult and more costly to obtain as the war progressed. They purchased two lots on North Fandon Avenue, a block east of Peck Road, and construction began that winter on one them, at 1036.

The home had three bedrooms, dining and living rooms, a kitchen and breakfast nook and two baths. One of the baths, with just a shower, was located by the back door so that the men could remove dirty work clothes and shower without dragging dirt through the house. That became a firm rule for all of the male workers in the family and that became their bathroom, the main bath almost reserved for the womenfolk. The house also had a fruit cellar.

The house was richly carpeted and seemingly filled with new   furniture. It seemed like a mansion compared with anything the family had ever lived in. Ken was ecstatic as it finally had a room for him with a built in desk. It was completed in the spring of 1942, in time for a new addition to the family. Daniel Willard was born April 26, 1942. His conception had been quite a thrilling surprise, at least for dad. His birth brought great joy to the entire family. With June gone, and mother recuperating, Ken had the privilege of giving him his first bath, in the bathroom sink, with an occurrence common with male babies when they hit the water, Ken being the recipient.

Mother had had another very difficult pregnancy with far more problems than usual with that condition. Not believing much in conventional doctors, she had been taking unconventional treatments from Dr. Willard P. Funk, a member of the ward who lived but a few blocks away. Just what his medical qualifications were is uncertain but mother had great confidence in his non-obstetrical services which included unconventional diagnostic gear and probably radiation involving very low level radio-active material. At least he demonstrated the effectiveness of his treatments by keeping an "irradiated" rabbit on top of his refrigerator for several years. He maintained that a large meat company, Luer's, employed his services to reduce spoilage. For years, the folks maintained a little box with dials and cords coming out from it and with pads on the ends to be attached to the ankles. It was kept under their bed and was supposed to have therapeutic qualities. When it was opened some years later, it had a little dirt or dust in it. Anyway, that is where Dan's rather unusual second name came from. He was delivered by a regular obstetrician, a female doctor by the name of Zuberbier, in Monterey Park.

In the meantime, Ken, who graduated from high school in the summer of 1942, went to work in a machine shop at the unheard of wage of $.55 per hour, but soon left to enter the University of Southern California in the fall, living with grandpa and grandma Anderson in L.A. He stayed but eight weeks and then quit to join the Navy, at 17 years of age. The folks were very unhappy about him joining and at first refused to sign his papers. However, when cocky Ken threatened to leave home anyway, they relented, signing his enlistment papers with regret. He was sworn in on December 10, 1942, with the verbal promise from the recruiter that he would not be taken on active duty until after Christmas.

Fatalistically feeling certain that he would not see June again because of the war, Ken took a bus trip to Minneapolis, where she was laboring as a missionary, to see her. He returned home to shortly find orders to report for transportation to San Diego for boot camp on December 22, 1942. So much for an oral promise from a navy recruiter.

Mother decorated the home and prepared an early Christmas for Ken. However, with both June and Ken absent, it was a sad   Christmas for the folks. The holiday was just not the same although nine year old Tom and the new baby, Dan, somewhat made up for their absence.

June returned from her mission in May of 1943, taking Ken's place in the new home. She carried with her, undetected, a deadly bacteria that would prove to bring some of her greatest challenges. Meanwhile, she was at the height of her glory being courted by numerous swains, among them LeGrande Flack and William E. Sutton, both of whom she had met as fellow missionaries in the North Central States. She assures us that there had been no mission rules broken in her relationship with these two elders, although she admits to having communicated with them by mail.

During this period, June worked as a teller for the Bank of America and was intensely involved as a leading lady with the Hales in their Pasadena little theatre. The Hales were an LDS couple who produced high standard, family oriented, dramatic productions, a perfect medium for June's talents.

William E. Sutton, home from his mission in November of 1943, won out over LeGrande Flack and June and Bill were married in the Salt Lake Temple on January 14, 1944. Bill joined the Marine Corps in March, just avoiding being drafted into the army. He was sent to San Diego for his bootcamp after which he was transferred to the El Toro Marine Base for further training. When off duty, he worked in a nearby walnut packing house. When it was apparent that June was about to deliver, the police were called on to locate him. They were successful and Bill was present for the birth of Diana June on November 11, 1944, in the Vorbeek's Maternity Home in Wilmar. She was the folks' first grandchild and would become completely spoiled by her doting grandparents.

Bill was unable to enjoy her very long as he was sent overseas in February of 1945, spending his time on the island of Guam, retaken from the Japanese. During his stay there, some Japanese soldiers, who had hidden out in the mountains of the island when it was recaptured, plagued the military bases by coming down to raid or steal from them. However, Bill came home without a scratch in June of 1946.

With her pregnancy and the birth of Diana, June's bug became active and she got weaker and weaker, finally going to bed with tuberculosis in the fall of 1946, just a few months after Bill's joyful return. To enable Bill to earn a living, mother took major responsibility for the care of Diana, a responsibility that would last for quite some time.

In the meantime, Ken had gone through bootcamp and signal school in San Diego, being able to get home for a few visits before transferring to the Naval V-12 officer training program in June o, 1943. To make these visits he usually had to hitchhike, dad on   occasion using his precious, rationed gasoline to rescue him when he got stuck someplace without a ride. He was sent to Denison University, a Baptist school in Granville, Ohio but was able to get home for Christmas of that year. It was a joyful homecoming, with all four children home.

In February of 1944, Ken transferred to the NROTC program at Marquette University, a Jesuit Catholic university in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He was able to get home for Christmas of 1944 and the family was again reunited. He was in Milwaukee for both VJ and VE days of 1945, feeling a little guilty about having missed any military action. Needless to say, the folks were relieved, though not without concern for his spiritual well-being which had nose- dived.

Ken graduated from Marquette in October of 1945 and was commissioned an Ensign in the U.S. Naval Reserve. He was stationed in San Diego for a month and then sent overseas to the Philippines where he helped close up military bases as the skipper of several LCTs on the islands of Samar, Leyte and Palawan. He returned home in May of 1946, being released from active duty but staying in the Naval Reserve for another 20 years.

Ken had departed from the faith and Church practices of his youth while in the service. However, with the unbeknown, faithful prayers of the folks, who were determined that he should not be lost to the faith, he returned home in May of 1946 with a determination to mend his ways and hopefully to go on a mission for the Church.

During the war years, with private construction at a standstill, dad had gone to work on various construction projects for the U.S. Government. To do so, he was required to do something he had never wanted nor expected to do. He had to join a union, the Carpenters. His experience with unions in Pocatello in the early 1920s when he was a hated "scab" had given him an intense dislike of unions with their picketing and strikes and heavy-handed actions. However, the unions had cooperated in the war effort with few work stoppages. But they did emerge from the war stronger and more assertive than ever. They would cause problems for dad when the war was over and they could reassert their power.

War wages had been good and the folks had prospered monetarily. However, with wartime rationing and shortages of consumer goods, there was little they could spend their money on and their savings built up. How much is uncertain as dad was very close mouthed with even mother about their financial affairs. But as consumer goods became available and rationing was lifted, they were able to accumulate some items foregone during the war. However, with heavy consumer demands, prices began to escalate very rapidly and their dollars did not go as far as they had anticipated.   Chapter 6

The El Monte Years--Phase 2 1946-75

With the formation of new families by the returning veterans in 1945 and 1946, along with GI home loans from both the federal and state governments, a building boom was in the making. However, building materials were in short supply and increasingly expensive. A great deal of effort, time and ingenuity had to be spent by builders locating building supplies. To illustrate, for dad to construct one home in 1946, he could not locate plaster board for the interior but did find a good supply of finish lumber. Sylvan Wanlass, a member of the ward, had a brother who worked for a plasterboard manufacturer in Utah. The latter brought a load down for dad, who traded him a load of finish lumber.

However, in spite of the shortages Dad was able to take advantage of the housing boom, working with his brother Adna, brother-in-law Barney and a nephew, Don Anderson, along with son Ken for awhile, all of whom had returned from military service. They went to work, with dad as a subcontractor, typically putting in the foundations and doing all of the rough carpentry work and roofing. They had a system that allowed them to complete a given house to that point in about a week. Much of their work was for a developer in El Monte by the name of Ells.

Fortunately, Ken was able to fit into their construction activities during the summer of 1946 until his call to the New England Mission in October of that year, serving in Vermont and Massachusetts. Most of his mission was served under S. Dilworth Young, a President of the 1st Quorum of the Seventy, and later its Senior President. He was released in September of 1948 to attend Brigham Young University.

Unfortunately, beginning in the fall of 1946, June became confined to bed at home with tuberculosis. Six months later she was admitted to the Olive View Sanatorium in Sunland in San Fernando Valley, where it was hot and dry. Bed rest and a hot, dry climate were considered the best treatment for TB at the time, the appropriate antibiotic treatment not yet available. She was not able to see her beautiful daughter, Diana, until she was finally moved out to the sunporch, and then they could only communicate through the screen window. June could occasionally receive other visitors.   June was finally released from her sanatorium toward the end of 1948. She, Bill and Diana lived in a small house in back of the Curtises for a few months until they could move into a new home in Monrovia that dad built for them, financed by a GI loan. However, it was another two years before she was able to resume her full role as a homemaker, mother continuing to be Diana's surrogate mother in spite of serious health problems of her own that came to a head in the early summer of 1949.

The reestablishment of a home proved to be a challenging experience for the Sutton family. June returned to "civilian' life with a four year old child who had been bonding several years with the folks and in a nursery school. Still weak from her illness, she now had the responsibilities of a home and a child to care for, along with her husband who had been severely restricted in his roles as a father, husband, helpmeet and provider.

When Bill got out of the service in 1946, he had worked for awhile in the accounting offices of two members of the Church, Ernest Peacock and Jack Monahan, both members of the folks' ward. He had then established himself as a salesman, at first for General Electric Supply, working for Bruce Ellis, the bishop of the Baldwin Park Ward, and then for Coleman Furnaces in 1949.

When June and Bill reestablished a home, Diana was naturally torn between two set of parents and was understandably bewildered, having a difficult time making the adjustment. Many wartime marriages failed with far less than these pressures but June and Bill were able to work through their problems. After all, they were married for "better of for worse" and more importantly for "time and all eternity."

During all of this, dad's personal building activities kept apace. He occasionally bought a piece of property and built on speculation as well as contracted for the entire construction of homes and office buildings. The folk's financial security seemed to be constantly improving and they were able to build a new home, across the street at 1043 N. Fandon. It was even more commodious than their other home, with an innovative hot water heating system in the concrete floor. They moved in about 1948 or early 1949.

Some of dad's subcontracting at the end of the war was for Jack West, a prominent Mormon lawyer-land developer. Dad and his crew were, in addition to the work previously described, often asked to put in the flat cement work--driveways, sidewalks and curbs. The Cement Workers Union felt that this work was under their jurisdiction. Barney carried their card but dad did not. He had a General Contractors's License and was legally and practically qualified to do the work. He also still carried his Carpenters' card.

In Fontana in 1945 or 1946, in one of West's subdivisions, a   carload of very large men pulled up to a job where dad and the others were working on some flat work, demanding to see the men's cement workers' union cards. Barney showed his; dad only showed his carpenters' card. The union men said that the work would have to cease as only qualified union men could do such work and certainly not with unqualified, non-union men. Dad, the aggressiveness of his youth coming to the fore, chased them off the property with a pickax handle and tore up his Carpenters' card.

That night, about 10:00 p.m., a sheriff's car, with chase lights brightly flashing and attracting the neighbors, drew up in front of the house. Two deputy sheriffs pounded on the door and demanded to see dad. He was in his usual night clothes, his undergarments, a towel wrapped around his middle. He asked to be able to get dressed. A sheriff accompanied him into the bedroom to make sure he didn't escape. He was handcuffed and hauled off to the county jail in Temple City. The next morning he called Jack West, who promptly came and got him released, all charges being dropped. Dad's dislike of unions was greatly intensified.

On another job in 1946, one on which Ken was involved shortly before his mission, another group of union men from the Carpenters showed up on a job, demanding to see Carpenters' cards. Three of dad's crew, Barney, Ad and Don, had them but dad and Ken didn't. The union men threatened to take away the others' cards if they continued to work with non-union scabs. What had been a very nice working crew collapsed as dad did not have enough work to keep everyone working all of the time and the others felt that they had to work union at times.

It seemed that when dad was on his own, he prospered. However, when he went into business arrangements with others they frequently didn't work out so well. One project toward the end of or just after the war was with a group putting up a trailer court out in the desert country of Inyokern, many miles away. The others put up the money and dad was in charge of the on-site work, requiring him to be away from home a good bit of the time. Eventually the partnership went broke and dad's investment of two years of labor became almost valueless. It may have been this period when dad was released as a counselor to Bishop Payne.

Several years later he put $10,000 or so into the business of a member of the Church by the name of Devey. Devey was an inventor of some sort but was either a very poor businessman or not completely honest. He soon went bankrupt and dad's investment was gone. Just how many times this happened we will never know as mother and certainly other family members were largely kept in the dark about these ventures.

Upon completion of his mission in September of 1948, Ken entered BYU to work on a master's degree and try to decide what he was going to have as his life's occupation. In the winter of 1948-   49 he met and fell in love with Pauline Beard Taylor of Kamas, Utah, marrying her on June 13, 1949 in the Logan Temple. She was a great granddaughter of John Taylor, Brigham Young's successor as President of the Church. The folks went to Utah for the occasion, Dan and Tom going with them.

By the summer of 1949, mother was very ill with the need for a hysterectomy. Ken needed work, available with dad, and Pauline volunteered to take over mother's responsibilities, June still being too ill to take on any added duties. The newlyweds, for their honeymoon, went to El Monte, sleeping in the folk's older house at 1036. While Ken worked for dad, Pauline spent her days in unaccustomed household work: cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing for the family while mother recuperated from her surgery.

Mother recovered reasonably well and Ken and Pauline returned to Provo in the fall to finish their planned college work. The folks went to Utah for their graduations in June of 1950, Pauline with a bachelor's degree and teaching certificate and Ken with a master's degree in economics. He was the first known descendant of Thomas Davies Jr. to graduate from college. They immediately moved back to California for Ken to reenter the University of Southern California to work on a PhD and to work for dad in construction.

As he had done with June and Bill, dad helped Ken and Pauline build a home in Monrovia, a block from June's and Bill's, with long term financing by the GI Bill. They were in their new home in time for Pauline to deliver, after a very difficult birthing, Tania Taylor Davies, on April 26, 1951. She was the folk's second grandchild. Pauline's final two months were marred by an unidentified illness that would provide her with serious health problems for the rest of life, and unable to bear another child. She was able to make a cute outfit for Tania from the folks old drapes. They had more than served their original purpose.

While Ken worked for dad for awhile, building soon dropped off and he finally went to work, as an officer trainee, for the Bank of America. He was called to be the Ward Clerk for the new bishop of the Monrovia Ward, Louis M. Ballard. The call was extended by Stake President, Howard W. Hunter who would later be called to be an Apostle, and still later the President of the Church.

During the time Ken and Pauline lived in Monrovia, her parents made a trip to California, by way of Northern California. The car they were driving became stalled when they reached the summit of the Grapevine, having burned out a piston. They called Ken and he called dad, who without any hesitation offered to rescue them, driving his Packard and pulling them all the way to Monrovia.

In 1953, Ken accepted a position as an instructor at Brigham Young University. He and his family made the move to Provo that summer, dad, Dan and Tom helping.   Grandpa Anderson died on April 28, 1950, having suffered from cancer for several years, most of the Anderson family gathering for the occasion. Following his death, grandma Anderson spent a number of her remaining years living in the little house behind 1043 N. Fandon. She also spent some time with other children. She died January 1, 1959 at aunt Lisla's in Santa Clara, California, having spent the last few years there. She and grandpa Anderson are buried in the Inglewood Cemetery in the Los Angeles area. Grandma Davies died June 16, 1957 in Ogden, Utah where she had gone to take care of her son Curly. She was buried in Plain City, next to grandpa Davies. Dad and much of the family went to Utah for the funeral.

In the meantime, with the move into their new home in 1949, the folks had put the old one up for sale, finally selling it for cash to a very fine Mexican barber and his family. However, many of the neighbors on Fandon put up a fuss about the sale and finally the family decided they didn't want to live in such a neighborhood. The folks returned their money feeling very badly about the narrow mindedness of their neighbors.

While Ken, and more so Tom, had worked with dad over the years, Dan, the surprise baby, was dad's special shadow during his childhood, frequently going with dad on his jobs, even in his very young years. He could be found at five years of age climbing a ladder up to a roof to be with his father, mother in a tizzy when she found out about it. Both Dan and Tom learned all of the skills needed in the construction business, becoming much more adept at the trade than Ken although the latter enjoyed that work, but as a hobby rather than a trade. Ken preferred his university teaching.

Tom had graduated from Cherry Lee, Columbia and finally El Monte High School in 1951. During the last year of high school and for awhile after, he served a stake mission. He met and fell in love with Pearl Trease, whose family had recently moved out from Ohio. Her folks, John and Ila Trease, had lived in Manchester Ward in the early 1930s, dad performing their civil marriage in June of 1930 when he was serving as a bishop.

Tom and Pearl were married February 17, 1953 in the Mesa Temple, both just 19 years of age. The Korean War was on and Tom joined the U.S. Navy in May rather than being drafted into the army. He completed his basic training at the Naval Training Center in San Diego where he was honored as the outstanding recruit of his class. He was then assigned to the Seabees, operating out of Port Hueneme in California. It was not long before he was sent to the Philippines where he served as a dental assistant and as a disc jockey for the base. While he was gone, Pearl lived with her folks in Turlock, California where she gave birth to Kim, the folks first grandson, on May 15, 1954. Tom was, of course, not present for the birth.   In 1955, Tom was sent by the Seabees to Alaska, where he served as a yeoman (a navy secretary.) After his return from Alaska, he moved with his family to Tennessee for schooling as a Training Devices Specialist , graduating again at the top of his class. His next assignment was at the Naval Air Station in Hutchinson, Kansas where he completed his enlistment. While there he had his first experience working part-time as a draftsman for a local architect. This training would eventually be of great professional value. Pearl delivered Jeff in Hutchinson on September 7, 1956. While in Kansas, Tom was in the branch presidency and he and Pearl served together on a district mission under President Alvin R. Dyer, later a counselor to President David O. McKay.

In the meantime, Bill had been called to serve as the Bishop of the Monrovia Ward, his call extended through President Hunter. After about four years, he was called to the Stake High Council. During this period, June delivered Susan Gay on February 20, 1956 and William Thomas on December 4, 1959, both in San Gabriel.

Upon discharge from the Navy in 1958, Tom entered BYU, securing a bachelor's degree in Fine Arts and starting a master's in psychology, doing building on the side to augment their income. During this time he located a 20 acre piece of land on West Center in Orem that would play an important role in the family's history. Dad purchased it, paying for it over time.

After completing his bachelor's degree, Tom transferred to the University of Utah and eventually to U.C.L.A. where he secured his doctorate in 1970 in physiological psychology, subsequently working at the Brain Institute as a research assistant. He also became a certified clinical psychologist. During this time, Pearl had Lori on November 11, 1960 in Provo, with Mark on April 22, 1963, in Covina, Doug on March- 3, 1965 in El Monte and finally Brad on August 3, 1967, in Glendora. The latter's birth was a very traumatic one, coming early and he almost dying.

Over those years in the Los Angeles area, Tom worked as a draftsman in an architect's office, worked as a psychologist in the Orange County Jail and taught at several universities and colleges in the Los Angeles area, while he continued with his construction activities on the side.

In the mid-1950s Ken was called to be on the high council of the West Utah Stake, serving under President G. Marion Hinckley. In 1959 and 1960, Ken and Pauline took a sabbatical leave from BYU, moving to Durham, North Carolina where Ken taught at Duke University. Dad came to Utah to help them prepare for the move. While there Ken was in the branch presidency.

In 1960, June, Bill and family were transferred by the Coleman Company to Concord, California. They were there but a few weeks when Bill was called as the Bishop of the Concord 2nd Ward. When the ward was divided, he became the Bishop of the Clayton 1st and with another division Bishop of the Clayton 2nd Ward.

In 1962, Ken and Pauline received word from Dr. James Brown of the birth of a boy whose mother could not keep him and had agreed to give him up for adoption. They immediately drove to California, seeing their baby but a day or two after his birth. They rushed home with him and began the process of adoption, giving him the name of Scott Taylor Davies. He was sealed to them in the Salt Lake temple a year later. However, on father's birthday, June 11, 1964 he was drowned in a decorative pond while being tended by a friend during a serious illness of Pauline. Fortunately he is the only one of the folks descendants to have died to this point in time, 1995. All of the family went to Utah for the services, a sad reunion.

During June's and Bill's sojourn in Concord, in addition to being a bishop's wife, June entered into what she felt were her most productive years. In addition to being a Spiritual Living and Cultural Refinement teacher in the Relief Society, she became intensely interest in the Israeli culture, studying its music and dance. She formed a group of similarly inclined people that met at her home each Saturday morning to practice for performing and she personally did a considerable amount of solo Israeli folk singing. It was a great and immensely satisfying challenge for her.

Bill continued to work for Coleman until 1962 when he established an insurance agency, selling for Beneficial Life as well as casualty insurance. Their daughter, Diana, met and married Charles Smith, a convert and returned missionary, being married in the Oakland Temple on March 19, 1965. Most of the adult members of the family were present for the occasion. She was the first of the folks' grandchildren to be married. And she would become the mother of the folks' first great grandchild, David, born October 4, 1966 and then Karin, born Feb. 27, 1968, both in Concord.

Shortly after Ken, Pauline and Tania's return from North Carolina, he was again called to be on the stake high council, serving there until his next sabbatical in 1966. During that period he became embroiled in the Birch Society dispute within the community and the church, taking a strong local leadership position in opposition to it. This brought him into conflict, though not open, with Elder Ezra Taft Benson, who promoted the Society and whose son was heavily involved. He also became involved in a conflict with Ernest L. Wilkinson, president of Brigham Young University, over internal university politics, while serving as the president of the BYU chapter of the American Association of University Professors. He also found himself in conflict with President Wilkinson, who was running for Congress, over politics outside of the university. He was on the verge of being dismissed.

In 1958 or 1959, dad purchased an old, F.H.A. home, built in the late 1930s at 5076 N. La Madera in North El Monte. It had a very large lot and he built, with Tom's and Dan's help, several homes, one of which Tom and Pearl and their growing family acquired with the folk's help. The folks lived in the old house for several years.

A few days before Christmas one year, someone broke in while they were gone, stealing all of the gifts mother had so lovingly and beautifully wrapped. Another night, when Ken, Pauline and Tania were visiting, the police, having received word of burglars in the area. Looking through the french doors of dad's messy office and thinking it ransacked, they entered the home, awakening everyone. Dad jumped up when they broke in, greeting them in his garments. That experience finally induced father to start wearing pajamas, a change mother had been trying to get him to make for years.

In 1966, Ken, Pauline and Tania moved to Washington D.C. for a year's leave where he worked for the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation. It was a bad year for Pauline, she spending much of the time in the hospital or at her folk's home in Kamas trying to recuperate. While they were there, the folks took a trip to the east with Lisla and Orson Tyler to attend the Beneficial convention, visiting among other places Church historical sites on the way. Ken flew up from Washington to meet them for the pageant at the Hill Cumorah, after which they visited more places of Church history interest in New York and Pennsylvania. June and Bill met them in New York also to attend the Beneficial convention. While there, the group enjoyed the World's Fair, following which they went on to Washington, D.C. where they visited many of the sites of U.S. historical interest.

While in Washington, Ken was notified of his dismissal from BYU resulting from his conflict with President Ernest L. Wilkinson. However, after a visit with Presidents Harold B. Lee and Nathan Eldon Tanner and giving his side of the dispute, the dismissal was reversed and he and his family returned to the faculty and Provo. This and other inappropriate actions of Wilkinson with respect to his support of the Birch Society and the formation of a campus spy ring to be used against the faculty, resulted in a significant reduction in his power and eventually his retirement.   Meanwhile, Dan had graduated from El Monte High in 1960, having been very active in the school choir and doing a lot of solo singing. He and June had the beautiful, professional quality voices in the family. Dad had a loud, enthusiastic voice, but could only sing in monotone. Dan attended the Y in 1960-61 and was called on a mission to the Eastern Atlantic States in 1961, serving in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania until 1963 when he reentered BYU that fall. However, college work was not his forte so he returned to California the next spring to work with dad, building being his first professional love.

In the spring of 1965, Dan met a young school teacher, Caryl Woodward, from Idaho, and they were strongly attracted to each other. However, his high school choir received an invitation to tour Europe that summer on a concert tour and they asked Dan to accompany them. It was a wonderful experience for him but he was also smitten with Caryl, reducing somewhat the pleasure of the travel in England, France, Italy and Austria. Shortly after his return, they were married in the Los Angeles Temple on November 24, 1965.

The folks had constructed a new home next door and the family moved them in while Dan and Caryl were in Idaho for a reception and a very brief honeymoon. The newlyweds took over the old house upon their return. The folks had now helped all of their children acquire their first homes, a wonderful legacy. The three families- -the folks, Dan and Caryl, Tom and Pearl--had their backyards abutted to each other.

Dan and Caryl didn't wait long to have their first child, Jon Davies being born 10 months later on September 22, 1966, after a very difficult birthing with his cord wrapped around his neck, shutting off the oxygen for an extended period. His birth was similar to dad's, providing him with life-long problems. This experience created a special bond between dad and Jon. He was followed by Jill on January 17, 1968 and Lynn on August 26, 1969, both born in Glendora.

The extended family was growing rapidly. To help accommodate them, dad remodeled the garage at the back of the old house turning it into a large playroom with a large billiard table. The room became the focus for many of the youth in the family. The California portion of the family usually got together for major holidays over the next few years. Ken and family occasionally joined them, most of their holidays being spent with Pauline's family in Utah. The first Sunday evening of each month, the family held a traditional family home evening with lessons and games. Popcorn (produced expertly in prodigious amounts by Pearl) and root beer and 7-Up floats or banana splits were the usual treats.

In 1965, the folks became set apart temple workers in the Los Angeles Temple, driving to that House of the Lord a couple days a   week. Mother finally had to give up such regular and arduous attendance, but father continued to serve in the temple until their move to Utah.

About the late 1960s, as mother's strength seemed to diminish and there was less pressure on his occupational pursuits, father took over some of the heavier housework. He usually vacuumed, mopped the floors and did the dishes, mother concentrating on cooking, dusting and keeping the home decorated and neat. She was operated on for intestinal polyps about 1975. June and Susan were both in the hospital at the same time but all were in different hospitals. Ken and Pauline came down to visit them during mother's long hospital stay.

By the time Ken and Pauline returned to BYU, his trouble with Wilkinson and the Birch Society had been resolved by the intervention of the General Authorities, who were taking measures to curb the Birch influence. Ken was soon recalled to the high council and then to the Stake Presidency with G. Marion Hinckley, serving there three and a half years. He was interviewed and set apart for that position by Elder Spencer W. Kimball, being released upon the reorganization of the stake presidency by Elder Ezra Taft Benson. He was soon called to be on the high council of the newly created stake Provo Utah Central Stake.

In 1970 the folks took a trip to Canada with mother's dear friend of many years, Clara Rich Griffiths and her new husband. They visited the Cardston Temple and then went on to visit Lisla and Orson who were on a mission in Saskatchewan. On their way home, they hit a deer, damaging their car considerably. But they were able to continue on, attending the Passion Play and visiting Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

Over the years, Ken frequently went to California for two weeks of active duty training with the Navy. Because of Pauline's poor health, and to give Tania an opportunity to get to know her grandparents better, Ken took her to the folks several times. Of course, she was also able to get to know them a little better when they came to Utah for most General Conferences in April and October, the folks often spending time in their home. Tania was married to Richard James, in the Salt lake Temple, on August 13, 1970, most of the family attending the affair. Their first child, Andrea Davies James, was born January 19, 1974.

At Christmas time in 1970, the folk's children began to plan for a Golden Wedding celebration, primarily conceived, planned and produced by June. The folks were opposed, at first. Finally, in the words of mother "dad said 'maybe this will be fun. When we were married, we didn't have any of the lovely things which go with such an occasion....' From then on we have been in tune.... How wonderful to have children who love and enjoy making their parents happy."   The folks thoroughly enjoyed the event, held in the North El Monte Cultural Hall on or about March 2, 1971 with hundreds of friends and relatives attending from far and wide. A program was presented with the children and grandchildren participating, including an unplanned act by their oldest great grandchild, Diana's Karin.

In 1971, Dan and Caryl moved with their little family to Idaho and then to Jackson Hole, Wyoming where Dan was engaged in construction as he had been in the El Monte area. One of the larger homes he built was for a member of the DuPont family. He served on the stake high council for several years, travelling across the dangerous Teton Pass, especially bad in the winter, to attend his stake meetings in Driggs, Idaho. While in Jackson, they had Michael on April 5, 1972 and Shanna on December 10, 1974.

In the early 1970s, the folks took a trip to Hawaii with several other couples, including Faye and Murray Cluff, Jack and Olive Monahan and Jim and Marjorie Brown. In 1974 they returned to the Islands with Ken and Pauline who were celebrating their Silver Wedding anniversary. They visited islands of Kauai, Oahu and the Big Island of Hawaii. They also attended the show at the Church's cultural center.

We must skip back in time for a particularly trying experience for the folks. In the mid-1950s, Murray Cluff, an old friend of the family, was called as the bishop of the newly formed North El Monte Ward, with dad serving as one of his counselors. They found sufficient acreage for a chapel, money was raised and with Salt Lake's approval work began. Dad once again was in charge of construction as he had been with the Manchester Ward house. As was true of most chapel construction at that time, as much as possible of the work was done by donated labor. Dad pretty much devoted two years to this labor of love. Dad came down with shingles, a terribly painful affliction, during this period.

Sometime after the completion of the building, Bishop Cluff had dad released as a counselor, with no advance preparation, a real shock to the folks. It was especially hurtful because the folks had been good friends with the Cluffs for many years. They, along with Jack and Olive Monahan and the Ellises, were frequently found at each others' homes for social activities. Murray, Jack and dad were frequently golf partners, and dad and Murray were business partners. Mother, fair or not, came to feel that Murray had purposely asked for dad as his counselor just to get their building constructed. Dad, typically, said little about it. In spite of the shabby treatment, he remained strong in the Church.   Dad was later called to be on the stake high council by President Howard W. Hunter of the Pasadena Stake to which the North El Monte Ward had become attached. As already pointed out President Hunter later became an Apostle and still later the President of the Church. Dad became well-known for the poems he would frequently recite when, as a member of the stake high council, he spoke at the various wards.

Dad may have tried to have President Hunter help him, as a lawyer, to recover money that was owed dad by a member of the Church. Dad was not successful in his efforts and may well have placed some blame on President Hunter. While the reason is not clear, dad may have subsequently had a falling out with him, being released after several years of service. He never really talked about that any more than he talked about his other negative experiences in the Church. But again, he remained strong in the faith.

In addition to his construction activities, dad again went to work as an insurance agent for the Beneficial Life Insurance Company in the 1950s. He was much more successful than he had been in the 1930s, becoming a member of the Multi-Million Dollar Club, which meant that he had sold over $2 million in life insurance. The entire family was present at the banquet to see him receive the award. He usually qualified to attend the company's conventions each year and the folks were able to visit many wonderful places, including Lake Louise in Canada and the World's Fair in New York. The health insurance he secured while working for Beneficial, while used very little at the time, proved very helpful toward the end of his life and in mother's later years. However, interestingly, at his passing he had no life insurance, probably cashing it in to secure capital for the family's Utah building activities. Nevertheless, he left a sizable estate to provide for mother and to pass on to his children.

Through all of this activity, mother remained a strong supporter of dad and maintained a beautiful, well-decorated home. When her health permitted she worked in the Primary and Young Women's organizations. In the 1960s she was made the North El Monte Ward Relief Society president, serving well for several years in that capacity until her health deteriorated, requiring surgery again.

In some ways the period that the Suttons lived in Northern California was a very difficult one for both mother and June as they were very close, more like sisters than mother and daughter. The roads between El Monte and Concord were kept hot with travels back and forth by both families. It was with considerable relief and joy when June and family returned to the southland in 1967. To illustrate this closeness, they were both into a philosophy that each person has a personality compatible with certain colors. And theirs were compatible with each other. Consequently, whenever   they went out together, which was frequently, their color schemes were coordinated, whether by design or accident. They were in contact by phone just about every day and June visited mother several times a week after the Suttons moved to West Covina.

Diana and Charles Smith soon also moved from the north to El Monte and she reassumed her role as a quasi-daughter to mother, frequently calling and visiting her for advice and counsel. And Charles began the construction of a home a block away on property Dan owned, dad lending his assistance. They produced two more children: Christina, born September 4, 1970, and Jennifer, born August 17, 1972, in San Gabriel and Pasadena respectively.

Dad and Dan built a beautiful new home for June and Bill in West Covina and Bill went into the insurance business again. His Church leadership talents and devotion were soon seen and he was called as a member of the high council of the West Covina Stake and then as a counselor to the stake president, serving seven years in that capacity. June would also serve a the ward Relief Society president.

In the late 1950s dad and Murray had purchased some property in Buena Park, constructing a restaurant which they leased out. The entire family was invited to participate in the opening. The partnership arrangements were verbal and not clear except that Murray and Faye ended up and remained half partners with the folks. The restaurant burned down and was rebuilt. Murray helped some, but the extent of his assistance is not certain. They also constructed a tire shop on the property, dad seemingly doing most of the work.

During the demolition of one of the old tire shop, Dan had gone out to help, taking Jill, Jon and one of Diana's daughters with him. A long wall had to be levelled and Dan said he could take care of it very easily. He told the children to stay by the car, well out of harms way, and he climbed the wall, loosening the nails in the plate holding the structure together. As he went to loosen the last nails, planning to jump as the wall neared the ground, he could see the loosened wall behind him begin to fall. In the meantime, dad had become aware that Jon and Diana's daughter were not by the car, seeing the latter inside the building. Disregarding his own safety, he ran to take her to safety, emerging from the building just before the weakened wall fell. Fortunately, no one was hurt.

Another example of dad's toughness in the face of accidents took place in 1946 when Ken was working with him. Dad was cutting in the rafters, using a power Skilsaw, Ken tending him from below. Dad suddenly climbed down, blood streaming down his left arm. The Skilsaw had gotten away from his control, ripping open his arm almost from the wrist to the elbow. Dad said: "I guess I'd better go to the doctor." Ken said: "I'll take you." Dad replied: "No,   you stay here and keep working. I'll drive myself." He returned an hour or so later, his arm bandaged refusing to answer questions except to say that he was all right, and going back to work.

The new restaurant was finally sold in the mid-1970s, dad and Murray carrying the paper. The monthly payments were shared on a 50-50 basis until the property was paid off in 1994. Toward the end of his life, dad and mother felt that the Cluffs were not entitled to that much, but legally nothing could be done about it. The Cluffs and their children continued to receive their half until well after their parents' death.

There was a dream the folks' children had that was never fulfilled. At some point the folks had purchased some beach front property on San Clemente Beach. There were two lots, bought at $1500 each. The children had the dream that dad would someday build a beach house for the use and enjoyment of the family. That dream was never fulfilled. It was too impractical for dad. He eventually sold the lots at a considerable profit. If he had kept the property for a few more years, he could have just about become independently wealthy as the value of such property skyrocketed. Another dream unfulfilled was that the folks would take the family to Hawaii for a vacation.

In 1973, Tom's son Kim was called to the Washington D.C. mission in 1973, the first of the folk's grandchildren to so serve. He was followed by Jeff -- Tom and Pearl's second son -- who served in Venezuela from 1975-77.

In the mid-1970s, the folks began to have a series of problems with the product of that rebellious period in the form of "hippies." These events would eventually push them out of California and back to their Utah roots. In addition to the earlier events described, their new home on La Madera was broken into, while they were in church, and ransacked, vandalized and robbed. They would never feel comfortable or safe again in their desecrated home.

In addition, the hippies and motorcycle gangs invaded their area, having wild parties drinking, defecating and fornicating on and around their property. One night in about 1975, a van backed into their driveway, right up against their front room windows, its back doors open and its raucous music blasting out.   Dad soon had enough, turning the sprinkler on, the water entering the van through its open back doors. He called the police but they were slow in coming. When they finally arrived dad went outside, brandishing a golf club. The police evidently felt threatened by him and grabbed dad. In the skirmish, a policeman's nose was bloodied. Dad was arrested, handcuffed and hauled off to jail in El Monte. Fortunately, a member of the ward had served as the El Monte police chief and was able to get dad released from jail again without charges. It was that experience that finally decided the folks to seriously think of moving back to Utah. The Orem property was about paid for and was waiting for development. The time was ripe to consider a move but it would take a little time to make things ready.

At that point in time, 1975, Joe's and Lora's family consisted of:

June and William Sutton with their daughter, Diana and husband, Charles Smith. They had four children: David, Karin, Christina and Jennifer. In addition June had Susan and Bill.

Ken and Pauline Davies with their daughter Tania and her husband, Richard James. They had one child, Andrea.

Tom and Pearl Davies who had: Kim, Jeffery, Lori, Mark, Doug and Brad.

Dan and Caryl Davies had: Jon, Jill, Lynn, Michael and Shanna.   Chapter 7

The Orem Years 1975-1995

By the end of 1975, the pressures had built up sufficiently for the folks to think seriously about a move to Utah. Tom and Pearl were also giving serious thought to moving away from the increasingly negative influences in the El Monte area. Dan and Caryl were living in Wyoming while Ken and Pauline were in Provo. However, June and Bill were still reasonably well-situated in West Covina.

With the final payment by dad, the Orem property awaited development. Ken had added a little less than an acre of the hillside property on 10th West by a purchase from Utah County in 1962. The property was paid for by the folks and deeded over to the family in 1972 by Ken in whose name it had been purchased. The ownership of the entire property, about 20 acres, was in the names of all members of the family--dad, mother, June, Ken, Tom and Dan-- constituting a family partnership.

Dan was hired as the General Manager and he and his family moved down from Wyoming in April of 1976 to be in charge of development. With Ken's help, Dan began the work of getting the project designed and approved by the City of Orem. The subdivision plans for Deerfield Park were developed by Roger Dudley and Associates.

The folks made the decision to create a family corporation for the actual development, separate and distinct from the family partnership which owned the land. On April 3, 1976, when the family gathered together at General Conference time, which they frequently did, a meeting was held to organize the corporation. The corporate board of J. T. Davies and Associates, Inc. consisted of Joseph T. Davies as president, Lora A. Davies as vice president and J. Kenneth Davies as secretary-treasurer with June D. Sutton, Thomas L. Davies and Daniel W. Davies as additional members of the board of directors. The issuance of stock was authorized, with $200 shares to each of the children and 100 each to the folks.

As Dan did not yet have a General Contractors' license for Utah, the construction of homes in the names of each of the directors was authorized until he could secure a license. Money from the sale of the homes was to be credited to the corporation. The approval of the plans for the Deerfield Park subdivision with   four plats, A-D, in the subdivision was secured from the city, a permit for the construction of a home on the property was secured and a house begun at 48 S.1160 W. Dan was shadowed by young Mike throughout much of the project, just as Dan had shadowed his father. This perhaps predisposed him to follow the construction tradition of both Dan and dad.

Dan was in charge of construction, while Dad took care of the financing and sales, and Ken, with the aid of Richard James, took care of the books. Tom did most of the home design work and assisted in construction as available. The Board met periodically, but June was frequently absent as she was still living in West Covina, and later was on a mission with Bill.

A large, beautiful home was constructed for the folks at 1021 West 40 South in 1978 and they moved up, living for a short while in a home on 1160 West until their permanent home was completed.

In the meantime, Jeff Davies had gone on a mission to Venezuela in 1975, returning in 1977. He married Julie Young on June 16, 1978 in the Los Angeles Temple. They moved to Utah to attend BYU. Bill Thomas Sutton left for a mission to Japan in 1978, returning in 1980. Sue and Dennie Borg had their first baby, Rebecca on Sept. 17, 1977 in Provo. They moved into their new home that Denny had built on property June had secured from the family partnership. Their daughter, Becky, was followed by Steven, born Jan. 6, 1980 and Jami born Sept. 22, 1981, both of them in Provo. Tania and Rick James had their second and last child, Teresa James, in Salt Lake on May 10, 1977. Dan and Caryl Davies' Ryan was born on Sept. 15, 1977 followed by Melissa, born Jan. 7, 1980, both in Provo. She was the last of the grandchildren of the folks to be born. Kim married Susan Tuttle on April 26, 1979 and Lori married Alan Gillman on April 2, 1981, both in the Salt Lake Temple,

In October of-1976, Dan and Caryl were struck with a near family tragedy. Shanna, at 22 months, was diagnosed with a malignant tumor of her left kidney, which was removed. The surgery at the Utah Valley Hospital was followed by two years of cymbae therapy that stopped the production of blood by her bone marrow and she lost all of her hair. Transfusions of blood and platelets finally stabilized her and as of 1995 she has not reoccurrence.

In 1978, Ken was called from the Provo Utah Central Stake high council, with Ross Denham as the president, as the Bishop of the Rivergrove 1st Ward. He served in that capacity until 1983. June and Bill were called on a mission to Roanoke, Virginia in 1979, returning in 1980 to Orem, Utah as they had sold their insurance agency and home in West Covina. These years were indeed busy and momentous years for the Davies family members.

Dennie and Sue Borg built and moved into a home within the family project about 1978. Tom and Pearl moved into their new   home, designed and built by Tom in 1978 it being at the top of the hill.

On July 17, 1978, the first known reunion of the descendants of Thomas Davies, Sr. was held at the Homestead Resort in Midway, Utah, about 170 attending. The planning and organizing of this event was principally that of June (Davies) Sutton, our family genealogist. It was called a reunion of the Thomas Davies, Sr. descendants because we had one descendant of his daughter, Mary, present.

As you may recall, the disillusioned and embittered Thomas Davies, Sr. had dropped off the riverboat taking immigrating Saints to Council Bluffs in 1849, settling in Fanning, Kansas and eventually becoming associated with the Reorganization Movement, while his son Thomas, Jr., had gone on to Winter Quarters, coming west with the Saints.

June had been able to make contact with Alberta Skala, a descendant of Mary Ebert, a sister to Thomas Jr. Mary had somehow displeased her father, Thomas Davies, Sr. and had been left but $1.00 as a legacy on his passing. Alberta had joined the Church and was thrilled to make the acquaintance of her Utah relatives. The folks financed the reunion and dad was in the height of his glory as he circulated among his many relatives.

Beginning with the folks return to Utah, dad enjoyed attending the annual Plain City reunions, going with any of his children and grandchildren that he could rope into going. He enjoyed renewing acquaintances with people he had grown up with as well as their descendants. He also had the opportunity to associate with members of his own family who attended.

The middle of 1979, Tom proposed the establishment by the corporation of a preschool operation to which would be attached a center for emotionally disturbed children that he, as a clinical psychologist, hoped to treat. The concept was approved by the Board, contingent upon presentation to June. On August 30 the purchase of the Mary Poppins Day Care Center in the old LDS Seminary building near the American Fork High School. Diana was hired as the registrar and teacher at the family's Merry Poppins Daycare Center working under Tom. However, Tom had difficulty securing enough children to make the project succeed, and the school was abandoned and the building became vacant.

By March 30, 1980, the basement of June's and Bill's new house was in, while they were still on their mission. The house was completed by Dan after their return later that year. The following year, Denny and Sue sold their home and moved to San Diego to accept a position as a plant manager for the St. Johns Clothing Company. They had Ryan there on Aug. 25, 1984. Considerable construction work on homes along the south side of 40 South was underway, substantial profits coming from their sale, most of it from the increase in the value of the property.

However, the high rate of interest for mortgages was shutting off demand for new homes. Fortunately, the Corporation only had one home in its inventory and it was finally sold, dad assuming the mortgage. But new construction ceased. The so-called Reagan recession was underway in which many builders with big inventories of homes went bankrupt. We did not, though things did become a bit rough. Fortunately dad was able to avert this problem primarily because the only debt was the American Fork property.

Dan was forced to go out on his own, establishing his own company, Action II Installers, primarily to repair and upgrade homes. In the mid-1980s, the family corporation became defunct, its charter lapsing. Dan has continued with his own company, Action II, maintaining an excellent reputation with the area's professionals, especially BYU faculty members, for his remodeling work.

Over the years, since his move to Provo, Tom had a difficult time finding a professional outlet. In addition to trying to set up a paying day care center, with a clinical operation for learning   impaired children where he hoped to apply his skills as a clinical psychologist, he did some teaching for the BYU. In addition, he taught a course to inmates in the Utah State Prison for a period.

For a time, Tom was a clinical psychologist with the American Fork Training school. He also tried his hand as an independent clinical psychologist. He finally became interested in computer technology and with his training in electronics with the Navy and his inquisitive mind, he taught himself about computers, eventually going to work for Planned Management Services in 1984, setting up a computer network for the company. This company has mobile home parks all over the west and Tom's network tied them together by computers for reporting purposes. He remained with them after corporate change becoming the Kingsley Management Corp. He left the company in January of 1995.

In 1981, Bill was employed by the Church Building Department as the area supervisor of Church buildings in Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee and Arkansas, he and June residing in Birmingham, Alabama and Jackson, Mississippi until 1984. Upon their return to Orem, he was appointed as the project manager for the construction of two buildings in the Eagle Gate Gateway project. One of these, an upscale apartment building, contained a secure apartment for the Church President, President Benson being the first to use it. Bill remained in this position until 1988 when he retired from Church employment. He has since worked as a courier for a messenger company.

Ken retired from BYU in 1987, but continued to work there part time until 1991 when he completely retired from gainful employment. Ken and Pauline spend their summers in their second home in her family's park, Glendale, in Uintah Mountains, where he manages the Beard Family 20 acre estate. He commutes to Provo once or twice a week to take care of his High Council work and the Davies family business, as well as his and Pauline's own affairs. They also spend a substantial amount of time travelling all over the world aboard cruise ships.

After Ken's release as a bishop, he was again called to the stake high council, still serving in 1995. In 1980, Dan was called as the first Bishop of the Orem 84th Ward, being called from his membership on the stake high council. He served until 1981. Shortly after June's and Bill's return from their mission in 1980, Bill was called as a member of the Orem Park stake high council.   He was called from that position to be the Bishop of the Orem 84th Ward in 1986 serving until 1989. The ward's name was later changed to the Orem 4th Ward and then the Orem Park 4th Ward. June is heavily involved in the Family History Program.

In 1982, Mark went on a mission to the Spanish speaking Los Angeles Mission. In 1986, Jon went on a mission to Florida and Brad went to St. Louis, Missouri, both of them released early because of ill health. Jill, the last of the folks' grandchildren to this point to go on a mission, was sent to Toronto, Canada in 1989. Andrea, the first of mother's and father's great grandchildren to be called on a mission, received a call to the Philippines Naga mission, entering the Missionary Training Center on Feb. 1, 1995.

On Aug. 7, 1987, Mark married Kathy Hayward in the Salt Lake Temple. They have two children, Spencer, born Jan. 5, 1990 and Joseph born Sept. 13, 1994. Brad married Mary Ethington on June 19, 1987 in the Salt Lake Temple. They have the following: Bryan, born Jan 13, 1989; Brandon, born Aug. 16, 1990; Bradley, born May 29, 1992; and Bryson, born Dec. 1, 1993.

Through the late 1970s and most of the 1980s mother and father, in spite of the business problems, enjoyed their personal life in their lovely home. They were able to look out over the lake as well as the development of the property below them, Dad even having a spyglass. They had most of their family around them,   with Tom's, Dan's, June's and their backyards backing onto a large empty area. In addition, Susan and Denny moved back from California in 1988 renting a home dad and mother owned that backed onto the same area. The area, which had been rather unsightly, was converted by Dan into a common, grassy park, the completion of which considerably enhanced the beauty of the folks' backyard and they liked to sit out on their patio watching the young people using it for softball, volleyball and shooting baskets.

They also enjoyed taking rides up Provo canyon, as long as the roads and weather permitted, especially enjoying Bridal Veil Falls. They worried that the realignment of the road up the canyon would destroy its beauty, a fear that was not realized, mother coming to love the finished project. They also enjoyed taking the Alpine Loop around Mt. Timpanogos to American Fork Canyon as well as riding to Utah Lake and watching the ducks.

About 1988, dad began to deteriorate more rapidly in both his mind and body. The most noticeable sign appeared when he was in a near auto accident, after which he became disoriented and lost. He received a ticket and was required to secure a new driver's license but was unable to master the written test. This seemed to kill his spirit. The problem was made worse by the fact that mother had never secured a Utah Drivers License and had not driven in Utah. She did not have the self-confidence and nervous control to do what was necessary to obtain a license. They were grounded, having to depend on family to get them around, a severe blow to their independence. In addition, mother's eyesight began to fade and her ability to do handwork, the source of many prized artifacts for her children and grandchildren, diminished.

Beginning in 1990, a another spate of marriages and births began. Of Diana's children, Karin Smith was married to Mark Higgs on Sept 6, 1990 in the Salt Lake Temple. They have two children, Spencer born Sept 30, 1991 and Brianna born Sept 22, 1994. Jenny Smith was married to Brad Karony on Sept 28, 1991 in the Freiberg, E.Germany Temple. Their baby, Lisl, was born April 13, 1994. Christina Smith was married to Sean Elder on June 30, 1993 in the Salt Lake Temple. She delivered Madison Page, a girl, on Nov. 28, 1994. Of Dan's children, Jon was married to Deann Honea on July 14, 1990, the marriage soon ending in divorce without issue. Jill was married to Cory Daniels on Jan 10, 1992 in the Jordan River Temple, their first baby, Shaunie, born Nov. 14, 1992. And Lynn was married to Cristy Carlile on June 11, 1993 in the Provo Temple, their first baby, Sharalyn, born Jan. 22, 1994. Of Tom's family, Doug was married to Joan Pixley on September 28, 1991, acquiring two children in the process.

In 1980s, the folks became increasingly aware of their mortality. While they had prepared wills, they became convinced   that the creation of a family trust was the best way to pass their properties on with the minimum of problems, especially with taxes. Ted Lewis, a lawyer with Beneficial, in whom they had confidence, was hired. They at first created the Joseph T. Davies Family Trust, with Ken as the trustee. Later, at the lawyer's suggestion, the family members deeded over to the folks their interests in all properties which had been legally owned as a family unit. In addition to dad's trust, one for mother was created, the properties being equally divided between the two. Mother and all of the children were named as joint trustees. These trusts were to be used to benefit the folks until their deaths. The folks also executed Living Wills in which they requested that extraordinary medical means not be used to keep them alive.

Dad seemed to be lucid at the time of these legal proceedings. However, his personality soon underwent considerable change. The family, after consulting with the doctor, decided that it would be best if he were placed in a care center. He was placed in the East Lake Care Center in Provo, near the doctor, and medication started. He did calm down somewhat. However, he was unhappy and not able to adjust. After a few months he was placed in the Family Living Center on Geneva Road in Orem, nearer most of the family, where he remained for about a year. Tom generally took care of getting him up in the morning, with a bath and shave, and Dan put him to bed at night, with Ken available as needed to relieve them. June visited every day, and mother most days. It was very stressful for mother, and certainly not easy on the others.

By 1992, dad was becoming too difficult for the Family Living Center to control him as he wandered about the halls. Finally in April of 1992, the family decided it best to take him home, soon confined to a wheelchair. Mother was not emotionally or physically able to care for him so that a live-in person to care for him in between Dan's and Tom's established pattern of care, night and morning, was sought. June continued to visit every day, while Ken came when he could, Pauline being very ill beginning in the fall of 1990, almost dying in the winter of 1991 and remaining with serious   health problems.

In the fall of 1992 we secured the services of Dora Granados, a lovely Peruvian sister, to care for dad and to give increasing assistance to mother who was becoming feeble and very emotional. To secure her services for a substantial period of time, in addition paying an above average salary and giving her substantial time off and holiday pay, along with her room and board, we guaranteed her a month's pay and use of the home for a month upon the passing of both of the folks or until mother has to be placed in a rest home should that become necessary. Mother has said that she will do her family in if they do such a thing, at least against her will. And our plans are to maintain her in her beloved home.

Father passed away in the morning of Saturday, February 20, 1993, on Sue Borg's birthday. He was in his hospital bed that we had placed in the sewing room off the kitchen. Tom, June and Bill were with him at the time of his peaceful passing, mother, Dan and Ken not quite making it. The entire family soon gathered to see him before the morticians arrived to take his body to prepare it for burial. The services were held in the Orem Park 4th Ward meeting house on Feb. 23, 1993. All of his children participated in his services while the grandchildren and great grandchildren sang. He was buried in the new family plot in the Orem City Cemetery.

With dad's passing, some of the properties in the estates were sold, the proceeds going into various savings. This property included that on 2000 south, sold at a substantial profit in spite of the earlier losses. The hillside property on 10th West was also sold at substantial gain. The property between 40 South and Center remains undeveloped although offers for its purchase are continuously being received. We planned for awhile to develop as a family the area as a twin home subdivision but problems with the   city that escalated the costs, stopped that project. It is now being planned to zone the area PC1 which will allow only professional buildings.

The monthly payments on the restaurant in California ended in April of 1994 as the note was paid off. The daycare center in American Fork has been rented and used as such for several years making substantial monthly rental remittances. Susan and Denny are making monthly house payments on the home they first rented from the folks, buying it on contract in 1991, shortly after dad was first placed in a rest home. The terms were those that dad had set. With mother's social security payments, the income is almost sufficient to take care of all household expenses, very little coming out of the earnings of the trusts' savings.

On May 22, 1993, we held another family reunion, planned and organized by June, that of the descendants of Joseph Jeppa Anderson and Emma Ann William. This reunion was held in Lehi, Utah, the ancestral home of grandpa Anderson. June had made contact with almost every descendent inviting them. Not all came but we had about 200 present with descendants from all of the 15 Anderson children but Arnold, Violet, and Ronald (Fay having no children.) They came from California, Idaho, Florida and Utah.

Included in the program was a presentation by Ken Davies on the life of grandpa and grandma, taken from his booklet, "In the Ranks, The Story of Joseph Jeppa Anderson" privately published for the occasion and made available to participants. The family's estates underwrote the cost of the reunion, with financial participation by mother's sisters, Winnie and Lisla, as well as June. This was a great event and everyone seemed to have a wonderful time recalling some of the great times we had experienced as a family, especially in the 1930s. The gathering ended with dancing and listening to a Blue Grass band, "Fire on the Mountain."

With dad's passing, Ken as trustee of his estate, assumed the leadership role in decisions relative to both father's and mother's estates. However, consultation on major questions, such as the sale of property, is had by all of the children. Once they have reached a tentative decision, the proposal is taken to mother for her final approval or disapproval. She has not been able to be involved in the previous discussions because of her weakened emotional health. The savings of the two estates, dad's and mother's, are maintained with Beneficial Life, in CDs at Zion's Bank, as well as savings accounts at that bank.

Some distribution of the sale of portions of dad's estate has taken place. When done, with mother's approval, the practice is to distribute the proceeds five ways, a fifth to each child and one fifth to mother's savings.

Our expert and chief reunion enthusiast, June, organized what   she wants to be an annual reunion of the Joseph T. and Lora A. Davies family. It was held on August 13, 1994, at South Fork Park in Provo Canyon. About 60 family members were in attendance. Dan provided many fun activities and games which were enjoyed by the family. The meal was catered, the courtesy of dad's trust.

As of this writing, 1995, mother is still mobile though very weak and with increasingly stressful nervous spells. Her back is terribly twisted and she lives in constant pain. June takes primary responsibility for seeing to her care. However, Dora is still living with and caring for her and keeping the house clean. We have had considerable difficulty getting and keeping someone to relieve Dora two days a week. Every change seems to be especially difficult for mother. As of this writing, Diana and a ward member, Sister Parmley, have been hired to care for her on Fridays and Saturdays. Mother also has a nurse's aide come in three times a week to help her with her baths and to check on her vital signs. If there is a problem, she calls in a nurse who then if necessary calls a doctor, for advice and any change in medication.

While we have essentially 24 hour hired care for mother, the children do not neglect her. Tom usually takes mother to Sacrament meetings, along with Dora, and visits her for an hour or so most evenings. June generally drops in several times a day and usually helps her get ready for bed when Dora is not present or when mother is in an especially weakened or emotional state. She is in charge of her medication. Dan drops in frequently and keeps her home in repair. Ken takes care of most of the details of the family business, takes mother to the doctor when that is necessary and takes her on a ride each week, usually up Provo Canyon to the folks' beloved Bridal Veil Falls, and to Sundance. They also occasionally visit Provo Harbor. In addition to these regular activities, all children are available for emergencies, often assisted by spouses and grandchildren.

On mothers 92nd birthday, January 10, 1995, she, her children and their spouses, went to dinner followed by an open house for all family members. Mother was thrilled over the evening, all of it the courtesy of dad's trust.

In 1994, mother began to distribute the income received from the sale of property in the estate. She felt very secure financially and that the children could benefit from the distribution. Upon the sale of a property, the money was divided five ways, one part to each child and one part to mother. The distribution proved to be a great blessing to the children.