This picture is of Val's paternal grandparents, J. Urie and Ivy Lee Jones Williams. From the time Val was about four years old until he was out of high school, he spent a lot of time at their farm north of Cedar City, especially during the summers. He has very fond memories of them.

Ivy was small in stature. Val remembers that she always wore a dress with an apron over it. She became very hard of hearing, and people had to speak loudly to her. She was a hard-worker, participating in some of the farm work, especially in caring for the many chickens they raised. One of their main farming projects was selling eggs. Every year they would get a bunch of new little biddies to raise, and Val would sometimes help prepare the coop for them. When staying there, he would help feed the chickens and was sent out to gather the eggs two or three times a day. Every night his grandparents would clean the eggs, candle them, and sort out the cracked and bloody ones. Twice a week his grandpa took the eggs to Cedar to sell and would deliver eggs and milk to his daughter, LaVern, and her family. On the way home he would stop at Hugh's Cafe and buy an apple pie.

Urie had other farm animals besides chickens. He kept a milk cow, some pigs, and he raised sheep. He raised hay and grain to feed them all. He owned some mountain ground south of Cedar, and every year he herded the sheep up to it for summer pasture. When Val got older he enjoyed helping with those sheep drives. His grandpa's brother, Uncle Dick, also had sheep and adjoining mountain ground, so they made their drives together. It took them two days, using a pickup and horses, and they all took turns driving the pickup and riding the horses.

The workday began early, so after lunch they napped for an hour. Ivy took the couch, Urie the rocking chair (which Val now owns), and Val would find a spot, usually on the floor behind the couch. His grandparents both liked to watch wrestling on TV. They also liked movies and would go to the drive-in once a week, and on the way home they would stop at the Artic Circle for an ice cream cone. Val loved their yard in the summer time. There was lots of lawn around the house, surrounded by tall elm trees.

Ivy and Urie were quite poor in their early years but they always had plenty of food. Ivy was a good cook, and Val especially remembers the delicious stewed chicken and gravy she fixed. He also remembers the good breakfasts, particularly the milk gravy and steamed homemade bread with lots of butter. Urie was a good business man, and eventually they became fairly prosperous. Each year he would alternate buying a new car and pickup. At first he bought Chevs, then later, Dodges.

When Urie decided to retire from the farm, they sold everything and built a small house in Cedar, on the same lot where their daughter, LaVern lives. Urie passed away first, in his early 80's. Ivy lived to the age of 91 and passed away at a rest home in Parowan where she lived for a while after she could no longer care for herself. They were honest, hard-working people who loved their family and lived a good life. They raised five children, Howard, Zelma, JenaVee, LaVern, and Marie. Another daughter died in infancy.

Mary Wells Williams

Mary was born February 22, 1918, in St. George Utah, to Eliza Everett and St. George Wells. She was the youngest child in the family. Mary never talked much about her family and her growing up years, always saying, "There isn't anything to tell." So I will post some pictures and write what little I know from what Howard said. Here is a picture of baby Mary and a later picture of her with the entire family.

Standing in the back are Rachael, Annie, and George. Front row are Harold, Steve, Eugene, Eliza, Mary, and St. George. Rachael died with the miscarriage of her first child, and Eugene died unexpectedly at age 29 from a heart condition. Both George and Harold married and had families, but they died from heart attacks at fairly young ages, leaving their wives to raise the children. Annie and Steve lived full life-expectancies. Val has no memories of his grandmother, and just a dim recollection of seeing his grandfather.

This is Mary, probably about the time she and Howard were dating.

They met when a friend of Howard's invited him to go to St. George for an activity with some friends. They married in the St. George Temple June 1, 1939

Howard and Mary became the parents of three sons, Val Dean, Clinton, and Richard. She loved her sons, but she always lamented the fact that she never had a daughter. She laughingly admitted that before Clinton was born she had prepared for a baby girl and had several little dresses for him. He wore them for the first couple months until he outgrew them.

The most memorable part of Val's childhood was spending summers on his grandpa's farm, so his memories of home life in St. George are a little vague. These are things he can remember: His mother worked for a couple different laundries, washing and ironing linens for the hospital and various motels. The last one she worked for was Covey's. There always seemed to be fresh oatmeal cookie in the kitchen. The family lived in two or three different houses in St. George until they bought and settled in the one on 600 East. It had just two bedrooms, so she and Howard used the smaller one, and the three boys bunked up in the larger one. They had a set of metal bunk beds. She was not religious but was always willing to help the Relief Society with flowers and food whenever there was a funeral. In fact, her calling was to see that the flowers got from the funeral to the vehicles that would carry them to the cemetery. She always wore a dress with an apron over it. He said Christmasses were pleasant, and that they always got a new pair of Levis to go with the pair they got at the beginning of each school year.

Val remembers that when they went to visit Howard's parents at the farm, he would always go to sleep on the way home. After the trip, his mother would cook up a bunch of scrambled eggs they had brought back - cracked ones that couldn't be sold - and often they had waffles with them.

I have fond memories of Mary. She treated me very well, and I was always comfortable around her. She kept her home spotless, everything always in its proper place. She loved flowers, especially roses, and she worked in the yard, nurturing her roses and tending the flower beds.

Mary loved the color red. She wore alot of red in her clothing, and her Christmas trees were decorated with red bulbs and lights. She dressed nicely all the time, and her hair was always perfectly in place. She was proud of her naturally wavy hair, and she kept it tinted it's natural color, which was brown with red tints in it. I think she called the tint, "henna." Anyway, it looked nice all the time. She liked to do embroidery work in the evenings, and she gave me a couple pairs of pillowcases she had embroidered. She especially liked using shiny rayon floss.

Chad was their first grandchild, and after he was born they came to Summit almost every Sunday afternoon to see him while Val was in Viet Nam. They came to Texas once when we lived there, and to California several times. Following pictures were taken

in Texas.

Mary was proud of her family, and she liked to get us together for special occasions like birthdays and for a dinner right before Christmas.

Here she is holding baby Randy.

And here she is with baby David. This was taken the end of January or the first part of Febuary 1981 and is the last picture I took of her. She was diagnosed with thyroid cancer in the fall of 1980 and had radiation treatments on her thyroid and on a spot in her upper thigh where cancer was discovered in the bone. The following spring she began having trouble thinking and remembering. She was excited to make matching dresses for Clinton's little girls, and I was helping her. She came over one morning with some sewing and was upset because she had received a letter from someone, and although she could read it, she couldn't comprehend what it said. She was pretty frightened. Other symptoms soon showed up, and a CAT scan at the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake in April showed more cancer in various spots, including her brain. They tried a treatment to shrink the one in her head so she could come home and have a few weeks or months to prepare for death, but it didn't help. She went into a coma, and Val and I went to Salt Lake in our station wagon and brought her back to St. George on May 2nd. She died early the morning of May 3, 1981.

Her passing left a big empty spot in the Howard Williams family. We've all missed her very much and will be glad to see her again when that day comes.

Grandpa Howard

Several weeks ago I had Val tell me some things he remembered about his parents and grandparents. At that time his father was still living. He passed away November 1, 2009, and was buried November 9th. I will write about him next.

Howard J. Williams was born to Ivy Lee Jones and John Urie Williams August 23, 1915, at the family home in Enoch, Utah. They later moved to their farm between Cedar City and Enoch, and he grew up there. He attended Elementary School in Enoch, and went to Jr. High and High School in Cedar City. Their home on the farm was a couple miles from the Enoch school, and his transportation was a horse. He was the oldest child in the family, and as his younger sisters became old enough to go to school, he was responsible to see that they got there and back safely. His closest sister, Zelma, did not like to ride the horse, and he said she was not an easy passenger to have riding behind him. When Jen got old enough for school, they got another horse for Zelma, and Jen rode with him. He said she was so easy to ride with that he scarcely knew she was there. They rode the horses in all kinds of weather, snow, included. By the time they got to school on those frosty winter mornings, they were very cold children. When they got older and went to school in Cedar, they rode the Summit bus. My mother and Howard remembered each other from those days.

Howard participated in the usual farm work to help his father. His sisters milked the cows, though, so he didn't have to do that. He didn't want to be a farmer, though, when he grew up. He found that he had a talent for fixing cars, so that is what his occupation became.

In about 1938 he was introduced to Mary Wells of St. George through a friend, Henry Grimshaw. A courtship developed, and they were married June 1, 1939 in the St. George Temple.

They lived for a while in Cedar City, then Howard got work as heavy truck mechanic for a mining company in Leming, Nevada. Following that they moved to St. George, Utah, where he went to work at the Ford dealership. In 1945 he was drafted into the Navy where he prepared to serve in World War II. The war ended before he was to go overseas.

After his military service, he and Mary settled in St. George, and Howard worked for the Ford dealership for a total of 42 years. People who knew of his expertise with cars requested that Howard be the one to work on theirs.

They had three sons born to them, Val Dean, Clinton, and Richard. Some of Val's memories are as follows.

His dad always had a dog. He enjoyed hunting and fishing. He said his dad told of riding on the fender of the car when he and his friends would go out hunting rabbits. Val remembered a trip he and his dad took to California to buy a fishing boat. When he got it home he had a deck built on the front of it. Howard always loved cars and pickups, and he owned quite a few different ones during his lifetime. He didn't buy new ones, and some of them he bought to fix up.

When Val was a kid he delivered newspapers around the north and east sides of St. George. His dad bought a motorscooter and installed a second seat on it. On Sundays, especially, Howard took Val around to deliver the papers. He would be driving, with Val on the back and their dog, Penny, riding on the floor. Howard expected Val to help with yard work, etc., and Val remembers his dad marking off sections of weeds and salt grass to have dug up by the time he got home from work. Val says he usually procrastinated and didn't have it done in time. His dad would still make him do it. He was fussy about taking care of things - his cars, his tools and equipment, his yard, home, etc. He always kept his things in good order and expected the same of others. He was a clean, honest, hard-working man.

Val was lucky that his dad was a good car mechanic, and that he was interested in seeing that Val had something to drive when he got old enough. He remembers a 1950 Ford that they worked on together to fix up the interior and body, and Howard built up an engine for it from parts he had. It was maroon in color. Val said his dad wouldn't let him "hop it up." Later Howard acquired a 1957 Ford which he let Val buy from him. When Val went on his mission his dad sold it. Below is a picture of Howard and his boys about the time Val went on his mission.

My memories of Howard as his daughter-in-law are pleasant ones. He was kind of quiet but always respectful and friendly. One of the first kindnesses he show us as newlyweds was to let us take their new car on our honeymoon. We borrowed his pickup(s) and campers(s) several times before we bought our own.

When Val was in the Army, Howard made sure our car was kept in good condition. He and Mary would often come to Summit on Sunday afternoons, and when the car needed something done, he would drive it back to St. George, then return it the next weekend when they came up. The big attraction in Summit was little Chad. He was their first grandchild, and Howard made quite a fuss of him. When Chad got old enough to play, Howard would have him straddle his foot and give him horsie rides. They both giggled and enjoyed it.

When we lived in Texas and California, Howard and Mary came to visit us - to Texas once, and California several times. They enjoyed going to downtown San Antonio where the World's Fair had been held, and he went up to the top of the Tower with us. I think Mary stayed on the ground with Chad. Here they are arriving at our home in San Antonio. They enjoyed the river ride and seeing all the outdoor resturants and shops along the riverside.

I don't remember the year, but probably in the late 1970s, Howard had an accident at work that resulted in several surgeries. He was working inside a car, and forgetting that he had raised it up a couple of feet on the hoist, he stepped out of it backwards and fell to the floor. It broke his hip, and he had to have surgery to pin it in place. Later, he had to go back in and have the screws removed. And after that he had another surgery to replace the hip. The hip replacement came a year or so after Mary's death, May 3, 1981, and Howard came and spent time with us while it healed. He had a squawky little dog named Major that ran around his feet whenever he went out on crutches for his exercise, and I always worried that he would get tangled up in the leash and fall. I remember him being easy to do for and very appreciative.

Although he was never one to verbally express how he felt about Mary's death, he was lonely and missed her alot. He was assigned as a home teacher to a widow up the street, Barbara Sargant, and soon they became good friends. He wanted to marry her, but it took alot of persuasion because she had health problems and didn't think getting married was a good idea. She finally gave in, though, and they were married March 26, 1983. Life with Barbara was a new experience for him. She drew him out of his quiet, routine life, and took him to plays, concerts, and social gatherings with family and friends, more than he had ever experienced before. He learned to eat different foods and was faced with someone even more particular about the way things were done than he was. They had 19 good years of life together, even with all her health issues which eventually put a halt to most all socializing. They did continue to have family Christmas dinners at their house and were always glad to have us and others come visit - as long as we didn't bring in any scents or things that Barbara was allergic to.

Howard had to endure losing another wife when Barbara passed away March 25, 2002. It was very hard on him to be left alone, as he was getting old and tired (86), but he did remarkably well until about January 2005 when he had a bad sick spell. Upon his release from the hospital his sons moved him to a Beehive Assisted Living Home in St. George. He was very glad to live there where he didn't have to worry about anything any more. He stayed quite well until about the time of his 94th birthday this past August. He started to fail quite rapidly after that and finally left this life at 10:10 p.m. November 1, 2009.

The employees at the Beehive Home always had positive things to say about Howard. He was always cooperative, gentle, and never complained about anything. He really was a good, kind man who was very pleasant to be around. As a daughter-in-law, I loved him alot.

Grandma Barbara

Barbara Halladay Sargant Williams is the grandma our sons remember. She and Howard were married a couple of years after Mary died and were together for 19 years. She was a fun-loving, enthusiastic woman who brought "new life" to Howard's naturally quiet personality.

Barbara grew up in Tropic, Utah. Her home life was not ideal, and she was plagued by many health problems, but it didn't dampen her outgoing, lively personality. She had many friends and was always involved in social activities, often using her talents for the piano and singing to help with the entertainment.

She had only one son, Nolan. From him she had three grandchildren, two boys and one girl, whom she dearly loved. Because of serious misconduct, Nolan and his wife lost their children to be adopted by another couple. For many years Barbara didn't know where they were. When the oldest son was about to graduate from high school he got permission to invite Barbara to his graduation, which was somewhere in Idaho. It was a great joy to her to finally be somewhat reunited with her (by then grown up) grandchildren.

When Barbara and Howard got married, she became grandma to Howard's grandchildren, especially to our six sons who had no other grandmother. She treated them as much like her own as they would let her, always interested in their doings, welcoming them into her home, and always remembering their birthdays and special days. She always had a dinner for Howard's family during the Christmas season, and she provided and prepared all the food for it. Sometimes her recipes were a little unusual, but they tasted pretty good.

Her ability to have company and go out in public became quite restricted in her later years by her many health problems. She was always allergic to all kinds of things, foods, smells, medicines, but it became worse as she got older. It took very little to trigger a life-threatening asthma attack, and she would cycle through two or thee every year. She was also prone to accidents and other problems, for some reason. It was amazing that although she went through times of discouragement, she could always find something to laugh about. She really tried to make the best of things so people wouldn't know how much she suffered.

She was a good friend to me, and although she isn't a family member through temple sealings, I look forward to further association with her in the eternities as a sister in the family of God.

Some Early Pictures and Memories of my Mother

Whenever I think about my mother, Lois Lawrence Farrow, I think of "love." She was not a kissy, huggy person, except with the little ones, but her love for her family and others radiated through her actions, demeanor, and speech. I look forward to when I can enjoy her loving companionship again.

Mom never had very good health, so bringing children into the world put her somewhat at risk. This first picture is of her holding Evelyn.

It was five years before their second daughter, LaRae was born.
Then, six years later I came along.Probably my earliest memory of my mother is of her trying a little pair of shoes on me. They didn't fit, and she said she would have to take them back to the store and exchange them. I remember my disappointment that I couldn't keep them. I remember being three. Actually, I remember my third birthday, but it is with my two sisters in the picture, not Mom. They were helping me hold up three fingers, then I remember that we were getting ready to go up to our Grandma's house. This next picture is of the three of us girls, probably when I was about three.Also when I was three, I had my tonsils out. I remember my mom coaxing me to eat some ice cream. A year or so later, Mom got sick. I never understood exactly what was going on, but they called it a nervous breakdown. I guess that means that she went through a bad time with depression. For a period of time LaRae and I stayed up at Grandma Lawrence's. I believe Evelyn missed a lot of school that year, staying home to help our mother. Her recovery took quite a while.

At one point my dad took her to Salt Lake to see a doctor up there. After a day of tests and consultation, they went back to the hotel for the night. My mom had a wonderful experience after hours of pleading to get well. A voice came to her promising that she would fully recover. My dad said she woke him up. Her face was radiant, and she said she was well and wanted to go home - right then. He talked her into waiting until morning. By then she was unwell again, but she was comforted that eventually she would be all right. The voice and assurance came to her one other time when she was at a low point. Gradually she did recover. I remember when she started feeling well enough to have me home for a while each day, Grandma would walk with me down the street as far as the Post Office at Otto Dalley's where she helped me cross the street. Then she would watch while I went on down the street to home. Mom would be sitting in the sunshine at the kitchen door waiting for me.

She was quite artistic. In high school she did some watercolor paintings that I still have (somewhere). Thinking of her artistic ability, her brother, Alma, bought her some clay to work with during her recovery. I remember that she made some clay plaques with mountain scenes on them, and she put them in the oven to dry and harden.

By the summer that I was five she was feeling pretty much herself again. I remember that we went to San Diego with her brother, Boyd, and his family for a week or two. Coming home we rode the Greyhound bus. I remember embarrassing her when I saw my first black man and kept asking her questions about him. I also remember that we stopped in Las Vegas for something to eat. I wanted ice cream, and she insisted that I have a glass of milk. Of course I ate the ice cream first then tried to drink the "warm" milk afterwards. Ever since then I've disliked milk!

I remember many little things about my mother during my elementary school years, but nothing specific as far as stories go. She was always interested in my school progress and went to all the parent/teacher conferences. She probably laid it on a little thick in telling me how good my teachers said I was doing, but it boosted my confidence in my ability to achieve in school. She saw to it that my sisters and I took piano lessons, and that we went to them prepared each week. It took all sorts of methods of pursuasion to get me to practice, but I am grateful to her that she didn't give up on me.

She was a wonderful seamstress, having learned the art from her mother. My dad worked hard to support the family, but we never had much money for extras. Mom made all the clothes for herself and her girls, including winter coats, which was helpful to their slender budget. She always raised a large garden and bottled what vegs she could. Every summer peddlars from Washington County would come through Summit with their peaches, pears, etc. She always bought bushels of fruit to put up. They kept chickens and pigs, and for quite a while had a milk cow. She fed them, gathered eggs, etc., but I don't remember that she ever had to milk the cow. I do remember, though, that she made butter from the cream. She also made her own laundry soap for many years. It was quite a process, using rendered animal fat and lye, and other ingredients. It took her most of a day, cooking it in a large metal tub over a fire outside, then pouring it out into shallow containers to cool, then finally cutting it into square bars when it was set. She did that clear until she got her first automatic washing machine the year Chad was born. Until then she washed the old "conventional way" with a ringer washer and a separate tub of water to rinse in.

I remember those times when I was sick with red measles, chicken pox, mumps, etc., besides colds and flu. She was always such a tender, concerned "nurse." When I was small and sick, she would put two kitchen chairs together and make a bed for me in the kitchen where she could keep me close by. If I was lying on the couch, she would bring me something to eat in there instead of making me come to the table to eat. She would do anything she could to make me more comfortable. I remember her rubbing my chest with Vicks then putting a warm piece of flannel over it to help loosen up the cough.

When I got into my teens my mom and I became best of friends. From the age of twelve, I was the only daughter still at home, so we were together a lot. When I was in high school my dad worked in Nevada part of each year, so during that time we were the only ones home. The picture below was taken when I was in about eighth grade.

Mom was always very attentive to her parents. During Grandma's final years Mom took a meal in to her at least once a day (Grandpa would rather take care of his own simple fare). Every evening she would go visit them for an hour or so, and very often I would go with her. When Grandma got to where she couldn't bathe herself, my mom took care of that, and she washed and curled her hair every Saturday so Grandma would look nice to go to the Church meetings.

It was my mother's wish that I not get married as young as she and my sisters had, and that I get a college education. So she was a little apprehensive when a certain returned missionary started calling on me regularly. She cried a bit when we became engaged, but she liked Val and was supportive of our plans to marry. She became even more "supportive" when Val had to return me home for a year and a half while he got his military training and spent a year in Viet Nam. Chad was born during that time, so she helped me through a miserable pregnancy and the birth and first nine months of Chad's life. I say "she," but my dad was in on it, too. They loved little Chad just like he was their own.

It was an exciting day for me when Val finally came home from the war. Out of our first year and a half of marriage we had only been together fifty-five days, all totaled. He was to be stationed at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas, to finish his enlistment. I know it about broke my mom and dad's hearts to have me take Chad away to Texas, but they were happy for us to finally be able to be together. The picture below was taken just before we left. I was very blessed to have such good, loving parents.I must say how my mother loved the Gospel of Jesus Christ. She had a very strong testimony, and a fervent love for the Lord. She was always active in the Church and served in many callings. She was acclaimed in the Summit Ward as a wonderful teacher. For years she taught teenaged Sunday School classes - except for the group my age. I remember her best as a Relief Society teacher. Her lessons were always interesting and very well prepared. At the time of her death she was on the Stake Relief Society Board.

A couple of little stories I'll tell on her. She was always very careful of her appearance whenever she went in public. She was refined and proper, and never tried to draw attention to herself. She was also easily embarrassed but had a sense of humor when the joke was on her. One Sunday after Sacrament Meeting, we were walking out to the car when a friend of mine whispered in my ear, "Does your mother know she is wearing a black shoe and a white shoe." I looked down, and sure enough, she was. When I showed her, I thought she was going to die. She looked so stricken at first - then she started to laugh. The tears just rolled down her cheeks from laughing when we got home. She had slipped her shoes off between Sunday School and Sacrament Meeting (in those days before the block meetings). When she slipped her feet back into them, she didn't realize there was more than one pair of shoes there waiting for her.

Another time that got her laughing like that, after the "shock," was on a July 4th picnic. She had put together a nice lunch, and the family, including Grandma Lawrence, had set out to find a nice picnic spot up in the mountains. We drove around for what seemed like forever looking for just the right spot to spread out a couple of quilts to eat our picnic lunch on. (It was in the days before there were specific picnic areas set up with tables, etc.) Finally they found the perfect place. We all piled out of the car while my dad opened the trunk to get everything out. To his surprise, the only thing he found was a lonely watermelon in there! It went from total shock and not being funny at all to where my mother and grandmother were just rolling with laughter. We were pretty hungry by the time we got back to Summit and found our picnic lunch still sitting on the kitchen table.

More about my Mom

I've always had to smile whenever I've looked at the picture of my mom and dad as they were leaving our house to start back home to Utah. That grand piece of luggage my dad is carrying was my doll suitcase from when I was a little girl.

The pictures above were taken when my parents came to Texas to visit us. We toured around a little to show them the sights. The helicopter is the one Val was in charge of at Ft. Sam Houston. It was a Huey like he worked on in Viet Nam. It was used to transport injured people to the Brookes Army Hospital there on post.

Mom and Dad came to Texas twice during the sixteen months we lived there. The first time was for Christmas 1969, then again the following spring.

The above picture was taken in 1971 when were were living in Inglewood, California. My parents made several trips to see us, always wanting to see their little grandsons. My mother is holding Travis.

In the summer of 1971 Val and I bought a small house that was just across the street from my mom and dad. I really enjoyed the time we lived there before we moved to St. George in 1974. After having lived far away from family for several years it was so nice to be able to look out our kitchen window and see my parents' house, and be able to visit with them whenever I wanted. Our little boys loved to go there. My mom always had something on hand for a treat that children love - ice cream and cones, home-made cookies, etc.

They probably got more opportunities to tend the boys than they should have, but they were always willing whenever I asked. Our little boys felt very much at home there, knowing they were loved and cherished by Grandma and Grandpa. The following picture was taken Christmas morning 1973. My mom is holding little Aaron.The summer of 1974 was not a very happy one for my mother. Val had accepted a job with SkyWest Airlines in St. George, so we had a for sale sign posted in our front yard. Although she didn't say a whole lot about it, Mom dreaded the thought of us moving away. Besides that, she was having problems with a blood clot in her leg. Being a person who hardly ever sat down during the day, it was very annoying to her that she had to spend a lot of time either lying down or sitting with her leg up. Finally, the clot seemed to have dissolved by the first week in August, so she and my dad traveled to St. George on Friday to see us. We took them out to Bloomington to see where we were going to build.

They invited Chad to go home with them, and of course he was willing. I agreed to go pick him up the following Thursday. It was a nice day - we had a good visit and enjoyed being together. Before I left Mom put her arms around me and told me she loved me. We were not a verbally or physically demonstrative family, even though the ties of love were strong and sweet. I was so surprised at the gesture that I couldn't even reciprocate. I've always wished I had, because it was to be my final opportunity. My dad called the following Tuesday morning to tell me my mother had just passed away. The blood clot we thought had dissolved had apparently only moved, and we assume that was what took her.

Some pictures and memories of my father

This is my dad, John Mathew Farrow, always known as Jack, with his three daughters. He is holding me, LaRae is in front of him, and Evelyn is at his right side. He never had any sons, but he loved his girls and was proud of us. LaRae was his little side-kick when she was in elementary school, and he called her Charlie.

I have a few early memories of him, and most of them are happy ones. He could be stern when I didn't obey, but mostly he was friendly and easy to be around. He had a fun sense of humor and could be a tease at times. I remember how he would talk me out of a pout by saying he could see my mouth starting to turn up at the corners. It wouldn't be long before I was giggling.

Sometimes when he had to be away from home for a few days he would bring me a surprise. We had an old record player that played 78 rpm records, and he brought me several with stories and songs on them. I remember one that had the story of David and Goliath on it, and some songs that went with it. Another had a song about the "Big Rock Candy Mountain," and I remember him singing along with it. One year when pogo sticks were popular with all the kids, he took me into a store and bought me one while Mom was shopping for groceries. That was a "big deal!"

He had an old red tractor when I was small, and as soon as he turned out of the field lane to come down the street towards home, I would hear the peculiar sound of it and know he was on his way. I would run out front, across the ditch, and wait for him. He would stop and help me up onto the seat in front of him and let me drive it with him down into the back yard.
I rememeber one Sunday afternoon I came home from Church all feverish and feeling awful. It was especially sad for me because Evelyn and Con came with their little kids, and I had to stay away from them. My dad felt bad for me missing out, so he came and spent some time with me in the bedroom so I wouldn't feel so left out. It turned out that I had the mumps! There was a small panic for a while, because he had never had them. Fortunately, he didn't get them from me.


I was probably in about eighth grade when the above two pictures were taken. My dad didn't have much formal education - he only completed eighth grade, himself. But he was intelligent and continued to learn much on his own. He was especially good at math and could put it to use in practical matters to figure out anything he needed. It seemed like he was always "figuring" something, and he filled MANY little notebooks and pieces of paper with numbers to figure costs, weights, measures, profits, etc., anything having to do with whatever occupation he was engaged in at the time. He mostly farmed during my growing-up years, but he also did carpentry and some mining. We never had alot of money, but we had a comfortable home and were never in need of anything.

I don't have a lot of memories of him spending time with me, one on one. I remember some daddy-daughter dates in Primary that he took me to, and one when I was in high school. I remember at the high school one, we danced, and that was probably the only time he ever danced with me. He didn't have much time to call his own, as farming is very demanding. But there were times he took us on picnics, and I remember him taking me fishing a couple of times. One time was at the dam up at the Summit creek, and I caught five fish that evening.

He was very supportive in me taking piano lessons for ten years. He loved it when LaRae and I practiced the piano, and he was always quick to pick it up if we were getting our timing wrong. When our playing got far enough along, he would often sit and strum his guitar along with our music.

My dad was very musical. He had a beautiful tenor voice, and he played the guitar. His lungs were damaged from years of gold-mining when he was young, so singing became hard for him. By the time I came along (and can remember him), he didn't do much singing, but he loved to strum his guitar whenever he was sitting to rest or watch TV. I made the guitar cake for him for his birthday one year, probably about his 65th. We were living in Summit, just across the street from my parents at the time.

This was taken when we were living in San Antonio, Texas. It was a long trip from Summit, but my dad was such a "softie" over little Chad, that he and my mom came to visit us twice in the year and a half that we lived there.

This picture was taken when we lived in Inglewood, California. He and my mom came to California several times to visit us.

This is the latest picture I have of my mother and dad together. It was taken just several weeks before my mother died August 13, 1974. She was 57 and he was 67 at that time.

He continued to live in their house in Summit for several months, but in November of that year he sold the house and moved to live with us in St. George where the winters were milder and he could breathe more easily. We were living in an apartment at that time but soon our house in Bloomington was finished, and he moved there with us.

My dad loved his grandchildren, and he was always patient with them and all their noise. I was expecting Kendall when he came to live with us. I was sick with the pregnancy, and he was very helpful to me. He always kept his stuff picked up, never left anything lying around the house. He made his bed every morning and kept his bedroom cleaned up. He was visiting my sister Evelyn in Salt Lake when Kendall was born. I called to let them know about the baby, and the next day I could hear someone in the hall outside my hospital room proudly saying "That tiny little baby with all that black hair is my grandson." (My room was right by the nursery window.) He had left Evelyn's to be there when I got home from the hospital, so he could help me. He was a wonderful father and grandfather.

Here are a few other memories:

When I was very young my dad would sometimes let me drive the car down the field road in the evenings when he went back down to the farm to turn off the water pumps. My mom and I would go along for the ride, and he would move over and let me sit in the driver's seat. The steering wheel had an outer wheel or ring, a middle ring, then the hub in the center. I was so short that I had to look out over the dashboard between the middle and outer rings to see the road. Once in a while, after turning off the pumps, instead of going right home, we would take the field roads and go on over to Parowan for an ice cream cone. That was a special treat.

A few weeks before I was to be baptized, an ornery cow chased him into a fence and messed up his leg pretty bad. It was quite a while before he regained his strength in it. I worried whether or not he could baptize me, and I remember asking if he thought his "gimpy leg" would let me down. He laughed alot about about what I'd said, but I didn't think it was so funny.

He had a bad injury to his eye just before Christmas that same year. He and his brother Lyle were cutting cedar posts. A limb that had been pinned underneath a fallen tree broke free and flipped him in the eye. It popped his eyeball open, letting much of the fluid run out. Lyle rushed him to the doctor in Cedar, but nothing could be done there. Arrangements were made to admit him at St. Mark's Hospital in Salt Lake. Lyle drove him and Mom to Salt Lake as fast as he could after calling the Highway Patrol and alerting them that they had an emergency. They made it in three hours and forty-five minutes, which was very fast on old Highway 91 back in those days. He had eight stitches put into his eyeball and had to lie flat on his back for two weeks. He was completely blindfolded for a week, then on Christmas Day his good eye was uncovered. I remember visiting him in the hospital on Christmas. Evelyn and Con, who were living in Salt Lake, came to Summit and got LaRae and me. We had been staying with Grandma Lawrence. They didn't give him much hope that he would ever see out of that eye, but he eventually regained fairly good sight in it. He said that without his glasses everything looked like it was on a slant.

Dad was not active in the Church when I was real little, but when I was elementary age he accepted a calling to be in the Sunday School Superintendency. From then on he never missed his meetings, and he gradually developed a very firm testimony of the Gospel through much study and prayer. He was one of the most honest people I have ever known. I loved my dad very much (still do) and I look forward to being with him again.

Grandma Lawrence

My Grandma Lawrence, Eliza Ellen, was known as "Aunt Ella." The first picture is her with my oldest sister, Evelyn. I just love how she is holding Evelyn's little dress down. The second picture is her with my mother. Grandma was probably nearing 80 by then.

Grandma's house seemed about as much like "home" as our own house did because I spent so much happy time there. She was a kind, gentle grandma, and although she kept busy all day she often found time to do special things with me. She was my first piano teacher. I remember sitting on the round piano stool with my legs dangling while she found a box or something for me to put my feet on. Sometimes she would play Chinese Checkers with me on a big old Chinese Checkers board and an assortment of marbles.

When I was three or four my mother had a lengthy sick spell, and my sister LaRae and I stayed at Grandma's for a while. The house didn't have any heat in the bedrooms, so in the winter the beds were piled high with mostly homemade quilts, and every night Grandma would fill rubber hot water bottles with hot water from the big tea kettle (she didn't drink tea) she kept on the cook stove all the time. She would tuck us in bed with a water bottle at our feet. LaRae slept with her, and I slept with my Uncle Alma. LaRae didn't especially like the arrangement because Grandma snored! (Grandma and Uncle Alma probably didn't like it much, either, but they made us feel comfortable and welcome.)

Grandma was a good cook, and she did it all on the old cook stove. She never wanted an electric range, not even in the summer when there always had to be a fire in the stove for cooking and baking. One thing I especially liked was when she cooked new potatoes, carrots, and peas from the garden, and combined them with a white sauce. She made all their breads and rolls, and she usually had cookies in the cookie "basket." She would make the dough and spread it in the bottom of large cake pans. When it was baked and cool she would cut it into squares. Usually she put raisins in it, but sometimes she had chocolate chips, which was a special treat. I loved it when she would cut thick slices of bread, cover them with cheese, and put them in the oven to melt the cheese and toast the bread.

She always had a project going. Her favorite was making patchwork quilts. She could turn a sack full of cloth scraps into beautiful works of art. She also crocheted rag rugs. She would cut long strips of cloth and sew them together, then wind it into big balls like yarn. She had a big wooden crochet hook that she used to make the rugs with. She was an expert semstress, and she did alot of clothing alterations for customers from Cedar as well as made new clothes. I remember her sitting at the old treadle sewing machine hour after hour, then later at a new machine that had a lever she could press with her knee to make it sew.

As far back as I can remember Grandma walked with a heavy limp. Because she never complained or talked about her condition, I don't really know what it was, but I assume it was arthritis in her hip or a worn out hip joint. The last few years of her life she couldn't walk at all, but I never thought of her as "crippled," because she was so alive in every other way. She even took up oil painting when whe was 80, and she won several blue ribbons for her paintings at the Iron Co. Fair.

She and Grandpa raised six children, three boys and three girls. They were interested in and proud of all their children and grandchildren. Grandma was a refined and deeply religious woman, and she set a good example for her family. I will be glad to be with her again some day.

This is my Grandpa Wilford Lawrence holding Chad. Grandpa loved children, and they responded to his love by eagerly going to him even when they didn't know him.

Grandpa was a nature-lover. He loved learning about how mountains and valleys were formed, and he loved talking about it. He loved rocks. His yard was full of all kinds of beautiful and interesting rocks that he collected as he rambled around the hills in his old pickup, and he knew what they all were and how they came to be. He especially loved birds, and he built birdhouses and bird feeders to invite them to live in his yard.

He did many kind things for me. I remember things like one year I had a school assignment to make a rock collection. Grandpa helped me put it together and provided a display box for me to take it in. We lined the bottom with a piece of quilt batting, then put a cardboard frame over it that provided a window for each rock and a place to write what kind of rock it was. He knew how much I wanted a desk of my own. He found one that had been thrown away. He took it home, cleaned and fixed it, sanded, stained, and varnished it, then brought it to our house for me. When I was quite small he found a little discarded bike and gave it to my dad to fix for me. One summer he took me out pop bottle hunting several time to get a little money for me. We picked up bottles that people had thrown out of their car windows along the highway, then he traded them in for cash and gave it to me. He always had time to chat with me or give me a ride down the street to my house when I didn't want to walk.

I loved my grandpa, and I will be happy to see him again.

Garden, New Windows in Old House

Val diligently prepared for a garden in back of our new house this year. It came up well but so far the tomato plants have very few blossoms. It's getting too late in the season for much to develop now. Darn! I wish we had an 8-foot hedge or fence to block our view into the Jones's back yard! His poplar trees are growing well, and I was excited when I saw him out removing the circular fences from around the bottoms, thinking that the lower limbs would fan out and soon be touching across the open spaces. What he did, though, was sawed off all the low branches up to about eight feet! We have an open view of all his stuff.

We decided to have new windows installed across the front of the old house. It changed the looks (lost its old antique "charm"), but hopefully it will make the living and dining rooms more comfortable for the renters.

Family Reunion 2009

Saturday July 11th we had our first annual Val Williams family reunion (I hope it will be an annual event). Chad and Laura accepted the challenge to be the first ones in charge, and they planned and organized a delightful day for us at their home in Monroe. Lots of good food, plenty of activities for the kids, and warm, friendly people to visit with made it a nice activity for all of us. With the pictures Val and I took we got at least one flick of everyone except Randy's little Kyler. He was too busy buzzing around to get close to the camera. We missed you, Kendall, Lee'sa, and girls. Hopefully next year. . .

A million thanks to Chad, Laura and kids for a special day!!

Brandt on the water slide they rented for the kids

Aaralyn, Brooke, Cameron, Raina,

Lindsey, Brandt

Travis, Janele, Mathew, Natasha

Aaron's Mary

Aaron holding Dave's Aniston

Val holding Aaron's Mathew

Aubree and Aaralyn

Randy, Nisha, Dave, Natasha, Shirley

Randy, Nisha, Dave's Jack, Dave, Natasha

Travis's Devan

Andria, Talon, Travis

Brandt (Chad's) Solomon (Aaron's)

Laura and Chad are standing on a step.

At 16 Talon is as tall as his dad.

Randy's Connor

Aaron and Valerie