Leonard's Life

March 2014

MEMORIES

Dear Family, from Paul

Lately I have had the feeling that the descendants of Leonard and Verna Davis are not fully aware of the many hardships they suffered in raising their ten children.

The time of living in Idaho Falls was especially difficult. Bobby my oldest brother was just fifteen and got blood poisoning and there were not antibiotics to save his life.

It was the worst time of the depression. Dad was out of work. We received food from church welfare. I remember seeing the cans with the Deseret Industries logo.

The relief society brought a box of groceries to us at Christmas time. Mother was thrilled to see a bag of sugar. We had none. It was at this time that I was bitten on my hand by a coyote in the zoo.

Mother was so fearful that I would get blood poisoning too. Later we moved to Ogden where Dad found work. He was only paid about $90.00 a month (and rent was $25 a month) to raise a family of ten children.

I remember dad mostly because he worried so much. He had a mild heart attack and his health started to diminish. Basically from worry. There weren’t any medications and we couldn’t afford Dr bills.

By the year 1955 Arlene, Donald , Russell and Sterling were married. There were eight grandchildren, (eventually there would be 76). Dad only knew 8 of them.

Dad had a major stroke that paralyzed the left side of his body. He was taken to the Dee hospital. They cut a hole in his throat and inserted a tube so he could breathe. His blood pressure was over 300. He was still conscious and could talk by putting his hand over the opening to force air up through his throat. He had to have nursing care 24 hours a day. Shirley was a nurse and would stay with him for 8 hours after her work. The doctor said they would know within 30 days if the paralysis would leave. So there he lay! The younger children couldn’t visit him because of hospital rules. One time I was with him and he said “Paul, let’s go to a movie (dad didn’t like movies), and I knew he was exhausted. My answer was, “dad, today is Sunday and we can’t go!) I watched my father waste away. Finally the Dr took the life support away and said it would be only a matter of a few days.

I called the married children and told them. Russell came down from Logan and stayed at the house. Early in the morning the phone rang and it was the hospital to tell me that father was passing and if we wanted to see him, hurry to the hospital.

Russell and I hurried to my car and I was speeding to the hospital when Russell said to me, “you don’t need to hurry, father has already passed away.” I said to him “how do you know that?” Russell said he appeared in the home before the phone rang. I asked, “How did he look?” “He said he had an expression of saying good bye to his wonderful family.”

Memories from the Past by Jerry

I will write about some of the pets we had as a family.  It is my understanding that when the Mary Verna and John Leonard family lived in Blackfoot, Idaho, Dad had a beautiful hunting dog. (Paul will have to verify this story)  I don’t know what kind or if dad used the dog for hunting.  (We do have a picture of dad standing with a group of mothers’ brothers and sisters and he is holding a shot gun).  The story as told to me is that the dog bit someone and in those days they did not have an animal shelter to take the dog to.  You had to put down the dog yourself.  Dad took the dog out in the desert and had to shoot the dog and bury it.  Dad said that he never wanted to do that again and so we never had any pets.  One time a turkey wandered into our yard on 30^th street and we kind of made a pet of it, but we ate it for Thanksgiving.  When we moved up to Monroe, I built a pen that I kept pigeons in.  I would let them out in the daytime and they would come back at night.  They’d  get into the pen by themselves but could not get out. (A one way door)  I also had Guinea pigs in the bottom of the pen and they were fun to play with.  We would take them out on the grass and watch them run around.  (We use to tell the neighbor kids that if you held a Guinea Pig up by its’ tail, its’ eyes would fall out.  Guinea Pigs do not have tails) 

It seems like we always had rabbits.  It was part of my job to gather hay for the rabbits to eat.   I Would go to a vacant lot and there would be clumps of hay for me to cut.  But the rabbits were not so much a pet as they were our source of meat during   WW II (when meat was rationed) and after.  We would take the small bunnies, when they opened their eyes and had fur on them, out of the pens and play with them on the grass.  But dad taught us how to kill and skin the rabbits.  We also learned how to kill chickens so that their feathers would come loose without putting them in hot water.

I think that not having pet dogs around the family, we all grew up not having a real fondness for dogs.  I am not aware of any of my generation having had dogs as pets.  Mother had a few cats after father passed away but they were all outdoor cats.

It seems like on Margaret & mine two missions, a lot of people have house dogs and you have to put up with them when you go into their homes.  I have been bitten by two dogs in my life, one when I was young and staying with our Engh cousins and once when we lived in Castro Valley, on my way home from work.  I think dogs know that I’m scared of them.

Memories of the Past  by Sterling

Who inherited Verna’s Ateco Cookie Maker (see attachment) from her kitchen supplies when she moved in with Roger and her house was sold? Does it still exist somewhere? This was brought to my attention when I found the scrap of paper, shown in the attachment, among Verna’s letters to Leonard when he was on his mission that Carolyn allowed me to review.

This cookie maker was a big fascination in my youth and holds a special spot in my memory. There were many parts and pieces to attract a young child’s attention. It was an aluminum tube, finely threaded on each end, with screw on caps to close them off. One cap would hold one of many changeable disks with various patterns that the shortbread cookie dough would be pressed through to form the cookie. The other end cap was the crank and plunger to press the dough through the tube. I spent many happy hours examining this item, assembling it, turning the crank so the plunger would extend and retract, all the time imagining what form the cookies would be and so forth. What I remember and cherish most are the days when mother would actually make the cookie dough. Then it was a struggle among the children over who and how long each of us could turn the crank. It was a delight trying to keep the flow steady, and getting the output to the cookie sheet in the correct form. Allow your imagination to reenact that scene in her kitchen with two or three children involved. It was a fun time for us and now as I look back I marvel at mother’s patience. She made it fun. The cookies tasted so good fresh out of the oven. They didn’t take long to cool and they didn’t last any time at all. A choice and happy memory you created for us dear Mother.

Sterling

I enjoyed both making and eating the same cookies mentioned by Sterling.  I even purchased a similar device that was battery powered so I could replicate the childhood memory.  Didn't work!  My cookie dough never tasted like Mother's and the battery power didn't allow a smooth steady operation so the stream of cookie dough would break.  Sometimes low-tech is best.  Who does have the real thing??

Carolyn

Margaret thinks that we have the cookie maker. She has one like it & has used it every year to make Christmas cookies.  Jerry

MEMORIES OF HOME by Paul N Davis
Some of my memories of home took place in a rented house at 655 30^th Street, Ogden, UT.  The family had moved from Idaho Falls in June 1936.  In Idaho Falls father was out of work in the depth of the depression, they had lost their oldest son Bobby from blood poisoning and Paul had been bitten by a coyote at the zoo.  Father found work in Ogden and we moved in June.  We stayed with Mother’s brother, Uncle Dewey Robertson.  In September we moved into a rented home in time for the children to enter school.  The house was on 30^th street which was in the south part of Ogden at that time.  Across the street to the north was the brick yard.  It had big machines that would press bricks out of clay and then the bricks were stacked on carts that were pushed into long tunnels that would be heated and would “fire” the bricks. We brothers loved to go over there and watch them work and we played in the tunnels.  30^th street went up a long hill towards the mountains just east of our home.  In the winter time there were few cars because the road was steep and slick.  We would carry our sleds to the top and go down four or five blocks. Behind the home there was a large open field where we would play baseball and all kinds of games.  Grandma Robertson’s house was on the other side of the field.  We didn’t have a telephone and if grandmother needed help she would hang a large white towel on the porch and mother would go to help her. Our house was not large for mother, dad and seven children.  The bedrooms were on the west side of the house.  The boys all slept in the back porch bedroom on two large beds.  There was a door cut in the floor with a metal ring to lift it.  If we needed to go to the basement we would lift up the door and go down the stairs to the furnace room.  There was a window in the furnace room where the coal company would deliver coal.  We had to be careful and remember if the basement door was open so as not to fall in. The center bedroom was for the girls Arlene and Shirley.  The front bedroom was for mom and dad.  There was only one bathroom that had a sink, toilet and tub.  We had to go through mom and dad’s bedroom to use the bathroom. Our first year there, on December 17^th, 1936 mother gave birth to Roger with the help of a “mid wife”.  Dad would send all of the children over to Grandmother Robertson’s and when we returned, mother would show us her new baby!  Mother’s records showed she paid the mid wife $25.00 and paid it off over time at the rate of $2.50 a month.  Two years later Lyle was born at home and three years later Carolyn was born.  Carolyn was the only one born in a hospital. On the opposite side of the bedrooms was a kitchen, dining room and the front room.  There were no hallways, just rooms.  Oh I remember how excited we would get on Christmas.  Russell and I would sneak out of the back bedroom and check if Santa had come yet.  We would hang long brown stockings on the couch to see if the stockings were filled.  Oh the thrill of a large orange, nuts and hard tack candy and a gift in the stockings.  They were Christmases that I have never forgotten.  I remember how I felt. One Christmas, my older brother Russell, my closet friend, had a paper route and had money to give me a pair of used shoe ice skates!  I thought it was the greatest gift anyone could receive.  There was a pond nearby that we would skate on.  These are some of my fond memories during the depression.  In 5 years the 2^nd world war started and the boys were drafted and went off to war.  The family lived at this home for 10 years.

Memory from Jerry

We often hear stories of widowed women who even though they themselves have very little are still willing to give to the Lord’s church from their meager store.  Our mother, Verna Davis, was just such a women.  A few years after our father died, our ward was divided and a new church building was needed.  At that time, people in the ward had to contribute 50% of the cost of a new building.  Along with fund raisers, members were given an assessment.  The bishop did not want to give mother an assessment due to her meager income but she insisted she could contribute.  She was a great cook and a terrific candy maker, especially her peanut brittle, which she poured onto a marble slab and with rubber gloves, would stretch the hot candy until it was paper thin and would melt in your mouth.  She came up with a plan to make and sell her candy at Christmas time.  She got the word out about her candy sales, bought one-pound boxes, individual candy papers, ingredients and got to work.  The one pound boxes of peanut brittle were her best sellers.  She also offered boxes of assorted candy which included home-made chocolates, stuffed dates, divinity, fudge, toffee, caramels and others.  Mother made the best molasses taffy I have ever tasted and that could even be included.  Mother worked long hours, the house smelled delicious and candy boxes were stored everywhere.  If my memory serves me correctly, she did this two years.  I don’t know the exact amount she contributed to the building fund but I believe it was several hundred dollars and she had done her part in building up the kingdom.  The building she contributed to is the building Mary and Don Belnap meet in at present.  She knew the church was true and knew the Lord would bless her when she put her faith and trust in Him.  I think both Lyle and Paul make candy from mother’s recipes.  Others might do the same.  Both the candy and the example are a legacy for us.
       

The Faith of a Family by Roger Davis

It was Friday, 9 Oct. 1953 day of the “Little-Brown-Jug” football game. This game was the traditional cross-town revelry between Ogden and Weber High Schools. The victor received the honor to hold the trophy, a brown
jug, until the following year. It was a big event in Ogden, Utah. I was sixteen years old and a junior at Ogden. I arrived home after an exciting day. The thrill of the game was on the minds of the student-body and we had a great pep-rally that had raised the excitement level even higher. I was looking forward to attending the game at the rodeo grounds on 17th Street. It was a beautiful fall day and I felt so good and happy. There was a basket of freshly harvested plums setting on the back porch of our home on Monroe Boulevard just south of 32nd Street. I grabbed a handful and went to my radio shack to work on my hobby. It wasn’t but a few minutes after eating the plums that I experienced the most painful stomach cramp. Usually a cramp will ease after awhile but not this one and it was so
painful. I went looking for Mother. She began treating me with treatments she had used over the years to keep her family healthy. Nothing would ease the pain. I could not sleep and Mother was up with me all night. I even tried standing on my head to ease the pain. Dr. Ross, our family doctor, arrived in the morning and after an exam said it appeared to be appendicitis. He offered to drive me to the Dee Hospital and prepare for surgery. At the hospital I remember being awakened several times throughout the day with doctors pocking and probing me and asking where it hurts. All I could say was: “it hurts everywhere.” By Saturday evening they decided to do exploratory surgery to find the problem. My sister Shirley was a nurse at the Hospital and was given the permission to watch the surgery
but not participate. The next thing I remembered was waking up Sunday morning hearing Father telling members of my Sunday school class what had happened. I was amazed as I heard that my small intestine had become strangulated by hole in the lining of my stomach and when they operated gangrene required them to remove about three feet of it. I was woozy and fell in and out of sleep as I tried to visit. Dad said that I was very blessed to be alive. I knew that my family had been fasting and praying for me and that I had received a priesthood blessing. I was in the hospital twelve days and my parents and siblings took turns sitting by my bedside. Late one night Donald became worried about my deep sleep and irregular breathing. He kept looking for someone to check me but could find no one. Finally a nurse friend of Shirley’s, who was just getting off work and thought to herself “I’ll check on Shirley’s brother before I go home” came in the room. She realized that I had been given too much pain medicine and my pulse had become very slow. She sounded the alarm. Doctors came running from all parts of the hospital.
They gave me a shot of Adrenalin that got my heart going again and caused me to wake up with a shock. I saw Dad, Paul, Donald and several Doctors in a circle around my bed. I kept saying: “what’s wrong, what’s wrong.” They said: “everything is OK now, just go to sleep”, they gave me a priesthood blessing during which I fell asleep. This happened before anything had been written about near death experiences. Two things that I remembered very distinctly were a very bright light that was the center of my focus and the indescribable peace. It was so peaceful that I was upset for being forced to wake up. I am grateful for Mother’s care through a long painful night, for Shirley watching over me in the operating room, for Dad’s blessings, for Sterling building me a new radio shack, for Paul managing all the bills, for all who took care of me in the hospital, for Donald and Shirley’s friend who followed the promptings of the spirit and for the faith and prayers offered in my behalf. I will be eternally grateful that I belonged to a “Family of Faith.” I didn’t get to go to the “Little-Brown-Jug” game but am still alive. I don’t know who won, probably Ogden. Ha

Memories from the past by Sterling

Our rental house located at 655 30th Street in Ogden, Utah, was small, five rooms, compared to present day home construction. In the eyes of a six year old in 1935 it was huge and magnificent. We lived there eleven years. The house faced north. The east side consisted of a living and dining room separated by a large archway, and a kitchen with a closed-in mud porch covering the exit to the back yard. The west side had a front porch, two bedrooms and a closed-in back porch. A bathroom and two walk-in closets were located between the bedrooms and the outside west wall. You passed through the master bedroom to get to the bathroom. You passed through the other bedroom to get to a large walk-in closet. This closet was large enough to accommodate a baby crib. It was by this crib that I spent many hours rocking Carolyn to sleep. It seemed that my job became one of watching out for Carolyn, putting her to sleep and responding quickly when she awoke. I was twelve years old at the time. We became fast friends. The house was placed on a half basement located below the bedrooms and bath. Entrance to the basement was down a concrete stairway, which I fell down once, covered by a trap door in the floor of the back porch. This closed-in porch was large enough to accommodate two double beds. The basement contained a storage room, where bottled fruit and other food items were stored, a room to store two tons of coal, the furnace to heat water, and room enough for a double bed. The house was heated with hot water radiators, one located in each of the five large rooms. The kitchen was the center of activity, however, we always ate the evening meal and Sunday dinner as a family in the dining room. The boys slept in the unheated back porch and in the basement, the two girls, Arlene and Shirley prior to 1941 and Shirley and Carolyn after 1942, (Arlene was married before Carolyn was born), occupied the center bedroom, which had no windows, and our parents occupied what we called Grand Central Station, because of the location of the bathroom. Christmas was always a special family time. A tree was set up in the living room. Stockings, chosen from Dad’s closet because ours were too small, were pinned to the back of the davenport, because there was no fireplace in this house. Each child was busy making, or searching for just the right gift to give. In school we made presents of calendars and hand prints for our parents. I remember the first time I had money enough to buy something for each family member. I spent many hours searching the stores in downtown Ogden to find a toy for those younger than I, and something useful for those older. I remember the secrecy of wrapping and hiding each item, then Christmas Eve when they were carefully placed under the tree. On Christmas morning I was always amazed at how the quantity of presents had increased around the tree. The circle of gifts seemed to extend to the center of the room. The stockings contained a toy and were also stuffed with nuts, still in the shell, and a large orange, a real treat in those days. Dad would distribute the gifts. In later years it was the older brothers and with the passage of time, I had a turn. Some of the gifts were for the children in general, such as the snow sled or the red wagon. My gifts from Santa, I remember most, are a wind-up caterpillar tractor one year, and a set of Tinker Toys with an electric motor, another year. What I remember most of all is the feeling of love of family, the older children taking care of the younger, all of us loving our parents, and the great love of our parents for each of us individually and collectively. We were a happy family in that house on 30th Street.