Mom

Elsie Elaine Hoey, 1930 - 1981: This photo was taken shortly before Mom passed away. She is holding my oldest child, Nicolas, on her lap while Nanny is holding Casey. Casey was born in May of 1980 and Mom passed away in July of 1981. I just realized that my memories of her are starting to get pretty thin. Mom had contracted ALS or Lou Gherig's Disease which progressively took away the use of her muscles until in July of 1981 she had to be hospitalized because her diaphragm was weakened to the point where she couldn't breath. Mom did not want to live on a respirator.

I am going to try and remember all that I can of her, for the next little while, and tell them. I have quite a few photographs of her from when she was very young up to when she passed away. Hopefully they will jog my memory.

Mom really loved her grandchildren. When she passed away, she had three of them. John's daughter, Tiffany, was the other. At the time of her passing, I was living in Utah. Several times, Mom and Dad made the trip up there to see us and I suspect that it was mainly because Mom wanted to see the grandchildren. Of course, this was no easy task for her because of her disease. She once showed up with this humongous stuffed animal for Nicolas. That is probably one of my regrets that we were living so far away at the time that she didn't get to see the kids that often before she left. Before she died, Dad was good enough to fly me down to Los Angeles to see her while she was in the hospital. I got to visit with her for about a half hour. She was heavily sedated so it was kind of a lucid visit. You could tell that on one hand she was ready to leave behind the troubles that the disease had given her but on the other hand she wasn't ready to leave children and grandchildren behind. I returned home after the visit and then we received a phone call a short while later that she had passed away.

Cowarts

This is my great-grandmother's family taken in 1899. My great-grandmother is standing in the back in the middle. She was the oldest of nine children born in 1879. She was the daughter of Samuel Rushing Cowart (b. 1855) who is sitting in the front, and of Margie Ann Camelia Rebecca Bush who is also sitting in the front though I'm not sure which one she is. There are three older women in the front and I'm not sure if she is the one on the right or in the middle. The oldest looking woman on the left is undoubtedly one of my great great great grandmothers, probably Mary Ann Breland who was born in 1817 and is Samuel Rushing Cowart's mother. This photo would have been taken in Bush, St Tammany, Louisiana where they lived. I do remember my great-grandmother, Zipporah (a.k.a. Pearl) Cowart though when I knew her, she was grandma Grosche with the "e" being pronounced as a long "a". Grosche was the name of her third husband.

When I was younger, we would visit her and my grandparents, in Bogalusa, Louisiana quite frequently. She lived in a house that had been built around 1917. It was a typical (I don't know why I am saying "was" because it is still there.) southern house that was built on top of piers so that you could crawl around beneath the house. It was painted white with a green roof and had a clapboard exterior. There was a fairly large yard with chicken coops and a large work shed (corrugated steel exterior) that my grandfather had built. The house was on a corner and had two driveways both of which were just gravel. There was also a large porch on the front of the house with a bench swing at one end of it.

Some of the things I remember, when we used to visit and that I liked to do, was catch frogs and look for colored rocks on the driveway. There used to be a zillion thumb sized tree frogs all over that yard. There were so many that it was hard not to step on one once in a while. I remember that on the driveway, there were always a bunch of flat ones that the car had smashed. They tell me that many years ago, however, they had been spraying pesticides and all the frogs "croaked." In some of my later trips back there, I didn't see frogs anymore. The driveway was covered with pea gravel and the rocks would usually be of all different colors so while the adults visited, I'd be outside looking for pretty colored rocks.

One other feature of the house was that there was a big fig tree in the front. When the figs were ripe, they would pick them and then bottle them in a heavy syrup. If I think real hard, I can still taste those bottled figs which were really yummy.

As for my great-grandmother, I can't really remember any coversations with her but I remember that she was older with gray hair and kind of portly. She always wore a long dress that seemed thread-bare that had a floral pattern on it and she wore glasses. When I look at her photographs, I see a woman who aged very quickly. Her first husband died when the youngest child was only four years old. I heard stories that she would rent out a room to boarders which means the kids (4) probably had to squeeze into a room by themselves. I have a photograph of her working in a factory where she looked pretty haggard. She did, however, live a long life. She passed away in 1971 at the age of 92 years old and I probably hadn't seen her since 1963 after we had moved to California.

La Gare d'Angouleme

Angouleme, 1973: We had gone to the train station in Angouleme to see one of the member families off. The family was moving to Canada so there was the majority of the Branch there to wish them well. One member's husband was a gendarme and he let me wear his kepi (hat) so I could get a photo. Of course, right at the moment of the photo one of the little kids that was leaving for Canada, decided to try and knock the hat off my head. Every time I go this this train station, now, I always remember this little incident.

Stadium of Fire

Stadium of Fire is a Fourth of July production put on each year in Provo City. I have been involved with this production for over twenty years and I always look forward to it even though it means long hours and always the possibility of something going wrong. Over the years, I've been able to work with and meet several entertainment stars such as Alan Osmond who was the original producer of the show. This series of photos was taken during an attempt to set a world record for the number of firecrackers set off in a single showing. One million fire crackers were strung together over the course of several days and then suspended on scaffolding. The effect was supposed to start with the ignition of the first fire cracker which would then start a chain reaction to ignite the rest. It was supposed to take about two minutes starting with some small pop - pops then eventually building up to a roar and then dieing back down to small pops before it finished. Instead, the whole thing went off in under twelve seconds. The heat was so intense that people on the other side of the stadium felt the heat wave roll across the heads. Dick Nourse, a local news anchor who was the MC for the show, was on the mid-field and he got a light first degree burn(like a sunburn) to his face. I was standing on the sideline about midfield where the production crew was. My job was to relay information to them and to make sure that if the order was given to shut down the show that it happened. Nicolas was with me that year on the field. I had moved forward a bit to observe the effect and when this thing went, my eyes went wide and I threw Nick behind me and began backing up. It was over fairly quickly and then I remember just hearing a silence in the stadium. I looked over at the main pyro-technician and Alan Osmond and they both had a wide-eyed stunned look on their faces then slowly the crowd began to clap which erupted into a huge applause. Both Alan and the pyro guy looked at each other and just sort of wiped their brows in a sigh of relief. We had fire crews up close to the firecrackers with hose lines and I first thought that maybe they had been taken out by the conflagration but everything went over the top of them so they were fine. After reviewing the effect, we realized that by lighting the bottom firecracker that a thermal column built up which rose up through the array of firecrackers and just took all of them fairly quickly. I wonder what this year will bring?

Trains

I love riding the rails in Europe. Because of the compact size of Europe and it's dense population, rail travel is very convenient and affordable and over the years it has just gotten better.

When I first starting riding the rails over there, the trains were quite conventional. To get from Paris down to Angouleme took about six hours. The trip wasn't too bad because you could get up and move around and usually you had a small cabin with about six people in it. Also you could go get something to eat in the dining car and you still can. Since then, the trains have gotten faster and the trip only takes about half the time if all is going well on the tracks. They go so much faster, now, that I've noticed that it is very difficult to keep the countryside in focus as you zip by.

On one of my trips, I remember being in the train with a lot of young travelers. Everyone was up and about and it was almost like a party atmosphere as everyone was socializing and just enjoying the ride. I also remember the time we took our young children and the train was oversold and there were no places to sit in the 2nd class cars. Daniele's family was with us at the time and her father worked for the the railroad. I was tired and holding a small child while standing was no fun so I told him (her father) that I was going up to First Class to take a seat. I mean, afterall, I paid for a seat so I was going to sit down. Daniele's mom and dad were horrified and said I couldn't do that. I said, "watch me." So they came along and when the conducter came around he started to tell me I was in the wrong cabin. I told him to find me seats in the oversold 2nd Class cabin and he just shook his shoulders and moved along. The funny part was Daniele's parents look of incredulity.

One of the best improvements over the years, has been the addition of a train station at the airport. Now you can go directly from plane to train without having to get a taxi or bus to go into Paris.

This photo is of Kellie in front of a TGV that we are about to take to from Paris to Libourne.

Robert Hoey Family

This is my great-grandfather, Robert Hoey, my great-grandmother, Mary Slay Sumrall and their children. My grandfather, Robert Wesley Hoey is the young boy in the front. I estimate this photo to have been taken around 1914, assuming that my grandfather is about 8 years old in this photograph. Of course, I'm not a very good judge of ages so I could be off by several years. My mother left a scrap book full of old photos like this and even though I don't have memories of most of these people, because they were long gone before I was born, I still think it is important to record who they were so that future generations won't look at the photos, like I have done with many of them in the scrapbook, and say, "Huh? Who is that?" My great grandparents had six children, all of which are in this photograph. They are, from oldest to youngest, Samuel, Mary Ann (Annie), Julius, Sarah (Sadie), Virginia (Virgie), and my grandfather, Robert Wesley. I think, based upon their ages, it is obvious who is who in this photo. This photo was probably taken in Lumberton, Mississippi where my grandfather was born and raised.

Although the memories are few, I do remember some of the names in this family. When we would visit my grandmother's house in Bogalusa, Louisiana, I would hear these names all the time especially the names, Annie, Sadie and Virgie. I do have a fuzzy memory of visiting Annie's house one day. We were walking down a sidewalk which was all distorted from the growth of tree roots beneath it. Huge trees, of all sorts such as pine and fig, grow abundantly in this area and it seems that they provided a canopy over the sidewalk. Usually the trees have green moss growing on them because of the humidity. There always seems to be a musty smell from all the humidity, plant growth and decay. It was a small house with a little fence in front of it. I remember we went in and she was sitting there in a chair. I want to say a rocking chair but I really am getting into fuzzy. She was tallish and skinny. It seems like she said a few things to or about me and then I scampered off because the whole experience got boring as the adults all sat around and talked. I was pretty young so I don't remember much more than that.

The Hoey family has always been an intrigue for me and somewhat of a mystery. Robert's father came to the U.S. from Ireland in the late 1840s. He located in New Orleans but has been very difficult to track from there. To the best of my knowledge, Robert is the only child he seems to have had because I just can't find any siblings for him. Even Robert is a mystery and difficult to track between the time he was born and when he got married. He was a painter at one time. Somewhere, I have an old business card from him. Even his parentage is somewhat of a mystery. I have an LDS baptism record for him which claims his parents to be James Hoey and Catherine Williams yet I also have his funeral home record which lists his parents as Robert Hoey and someone else (can't remember at the moment). I suspect that James is the correct parent because that would have been an original record by him whereas the funeral home record information would have come from someone else. However, I have to wonder why the family would have thought that it was someone else. Is there a story there? Some kind of intrigue? I have, for over 20 years, on and off, been trying to track this story down but all I usually end up with is more questions and plenty of dead-ends. I may never know until after this life but I'm sure it will be an interesting story when I do find out.

2002 Winter Olympics

2002. The Winter Olympics came to Utah. I was working at the University of Utah where we hosted the Olympic Village and the Opening and Closing Ceremonies. On the one hand, there were a lot of inconveniences such as my main office being located inside of the Olympic Village and a huge fence that was between my hospital office and the main office. On the other hand, it was pretty exciting to be able to get inside and visit with the athletes. In this photo, I am with the Croatian contingency. Casey was serving her mission in Croatia at the time so I got this photo with these guys to send to her. Of course, I got to work the ceremonies which were full of a lot of cool things. I got up pretty close to President Bush when he came for the Opening Ceremonies and I got to meet Mitt Romney a couple of times just as a couple of examples. It was amazing how they turned the entire football field of the stadium into one giant ice-rink. It was fun times but I was pretty glad when it was all over and things got back to normal. It was an experience, however, that I'll never forget and will always be glad that I had.

Grandpa Moss

Maybe it is because we didn't get to see him very often, that I don't remember a whole lot about my paternal grandfather. I do, however, a few memories. I always remember that when we went to Utah, it was like entering into a different world for me. My grandparents lived in a small house in Bountiful. There was a ditch that ran through the yard which always seemed to be a source of curiosity for me. The house had a basement where my grandmother did the laundry. The basement was mostly unfinished and it had that basementy, concrete smell to it. My grandmother would hang the clothes out to dry but before doing that, she ran the clothes through one of those old hand-crank wringers that pulled the clothes through a pair of rollers, squeezing the water out of them. Grandpa was a dairyman. He delivered milk and other dairy products to houses. I remember that once in a while, he would take us for a ride in the back of his dairy truck which always had that dairy smell to it. When he wasn't working, it seems that I remember him sitting in his small living room, watching tv and drinking a beer. The beer was his undoing in that he eventually died from liver failure due to alcohol consumption.

It is a little strange to think that if he were alive today, he would be 104 years old. He was born in 1906. In that year, there were only 8,000 automobiles in the entire U.S. and only 144 miles of paved road. Only 8% of the population had a telephone and only 14% even had a bathtub in the house. A mere 30 people lived in Las Vegas! It is somewhat mind-boggling to think that my grandfather was born at such a time. It would be fun to talk to him today.
Delbert Moss 1906-1971

Daniele's Mother

Oh, the stories I could tell about Daniele's mom. Probably my favorite is when we were visiting many years ago when they were still in Grassac. The house was pretty much out in the middle of nowhere which adequately describes Grassac. Jeanine raised different fouls for eating and there was always a story with them. She went out, one day, and killed a big rooster for dinner. After de-pluming and gutting it, she asked me to cut it up into pieces. No problem. I've done it a jillion times before. So, I took it into the kitchen and began cutting it up into serving sized pieces. After I'd cut it up, I'd run it under the tap water to get the dirt and grime from the chicken coop off of it. As I was in the middle of washing a piece, I heard this cry of near horror. She was talking in a panic to me and saying, "What are you doing?!" I told her that I was washing off the rooster. She then told me that I was washing off the flavor. O.K., so I kind of looked at her with this "whadda ya mean?" look and then told her that I'd be happy to take her piece back out to the chicken coop and roll it around for a while. Well, she declined and later, after dinner, she came up to me and told me, kind of sheepishly, that it didn't taste any different. I probably had a "no kidding" look on my face. Funny thing, though, is that she has never asked me to cut up a chicken since.

During that same trip, she cooked a rabbit. Now you need to understand that she is an old fashioned country girl and nothing goes to waste. So we are sitting at the table eating our rabbit and I kept looking at her because the piece she was eating looked kind of strange. It was kind of large and like roundish in shape. I started to ask her what piece she had when suddenly she turned it and then I saw the teeth. She had been gnawing on the head. I kind of just rolled my eyes and carried on with whatever piece I had.

Such is life around "Mme Fontaine." If it isn't one thing it is another and it always catches you off guard. I guess that is what it makes it fun to be around her.

On the road to Limoges

Somewhere between Angouleme and Limoges: We had a zone conference and we decided to take our velo-moteurs so that we could do a little sight seeing and also so that we could go to a picnic in Perigueux after wards. It was about 100 kilometers for each leg of the trip for a total of 300 kilometers. This was an all too common event for us. The spark plugs would foul pretty easily so it was always necessary to clean them. Of course, if it wasn't the spark plugs, someone would always have a flat tire. My velo-moteur is just like the one that is farthest from the lens. A Peugeot 103! Actually, it really beat having a bicycle which they made us switch over to during the last month of my mission. Anyway, this was a kind of fun trip. We stopped on the way to Limoges at Oradour-sur-Glane. This was a town that was mistaken for another town in France that had gotten in trouble with the German army during WWII. Just about everyone from the town was killed for the other towns mistake. The town was left as a memorial. After Limoges, we went to Perigueux for a little relaxation and fun with the members down there and then it was back to Angouleme. This was a two day trip. In the picture are Elder Crum in the back, Elder Cairns on the right, and Elder Newman (now there is another story and you'll just have to ask me) on the left.
Note: Patrick Cairns tells me that he never went on that trip so this is a photo from another trip to who knows where but it still looks the same. Like I said, we were always stopping to fix something. ;-)

Scouts

L-R, Lynn Moore, Eric Southwick, Henry Wagner, Chuck Wagner, Bill Croasdale, and your's truly, moi. Our Eagle Court of Honor.

I've done a lot of scouting over the years and I have a lot of good memories from it. I don't think I ever realized how much our adult leaders sacrificed for us until I became an adult leader. Every summer, Henry and Bill would take us hiking for an entire week. Not just five days like we do today but for an entire week. That was a week of their time away from family and a week they couldn't use for vacation with their family. I know, today, I have to balance my days off in order to make sure I have enough time to go to France every couple of years. Anyway, they were dedicated leaders and I really appreciate all they taught us and did for us.

Hiking was the theme. We hiked everywhere. My first two years, we did some hikes through the Angeles Crest mountains. They were 50 milers. The first was the Silver Moccasin trail and the second was the Golden Arrowhead trail. I don't know what the significance of the names were but it was where I learned how to hike. One of the first things Henry would have us do, when we came into the troop, was to build our own backpack. It was made of a wood frame with canvas strapping. Dad eventually bought me a light weight Kelty pack but it was a good experience to build my own. After those hikes, we started doing the John Muir trail in the high Sierras. Those were really great hikes! Some of my lasting memories are of hiking to the top of Mount Whitney (tallest spot in the continental U.S.), having sacrament meeting on the top of a mountain, walking in the rain, walking through a burnt out forest, bears, snakes, sitting in natural hot springs, making camp each night, minestrone soup, and so much more. Once, after a day of hiking and after setting up camp, we heard there was a store not too far away. We took off and hiked down the mountain and into a small town where we found a store and some soda and then we had to hike back. Well, that soda was about a 10 mile round trip hike but it was worth it. Those were good days and I am ever so grateful for leaders who taught us how to hike, who prepared us for these hikes by taking us out on smaller ones each month, and who just taught us to have a good time.

Nanny

I'm not sure that I have the time to write all the memories I have of Nanny so I'm sure there will be multiple posts and more photos.

Nanny was like my second mom. She lived with us quite a bit after my Papaw passed away. I would spend a lot of time in her room just talking with her. Today, I'm not sure how I handled doing that since she smoked most of her life and she would always smoke in her room which, of course, gave the room a really strong smell of smoke. If I were to do that today, my eyes would be stinging and I'd be coughing. Of course, the smoking gave her a bit of a raspy voice. Since my mother worked as a nurse, Nanny would be there for me to talk to. She also did quite a bit of the cooking in the house. Everything, and I mean everything, was cooked in bacon grease. It's just what they do in the south. Even though we lived in California, we ate like Louisianians. We'd go out into the fields and pick mustard greens all the time. We'd bring them home and she would cook them up in the big old pot that we still have and use today. You couldn't do that today since most of the Palos Verdes Hill has now been developed but sometimes I have to wonder if people wondered what we were doing out there in the fields. She would make grits, corn bread, okra, and a tomato sauce that you would put over rice. Speaking of rice, of course she would make red beans and rice. Now, those are memories!

One of the funny things we talked about, once in a while, was about this stack of checks she had in her drawers. She had some sort of investment and every quarter, they would send her a check which she never cashed. All of the checks were like for two or three cents each. It cost more to mail them to her than they were worth! She and I always got a laugh out of that. She never did cash them. It just wasn't worth the time or the funny looks she would have to endure at the bank.

For a while, I worked with Nanny at the San Pedro and Peninsula Hospital. She worked as a messenger and got me in there too. What was funny was that there was Nanny and two other widows that worked in there. I was the "young 'un" and I could do the work they did in half the time it took them to do it. Nanny would always tell me to slow down so I didn't make them look bad. So, when I went on my rounds, I'd usually stop at different places and talk to the nurses. One of my favorite stops was in the Coronary Care Unit. The nurses, there, along with my mother, taught me how to read the electrocardiograms. This actually was very helpful for me later on when I went to Paramedic school. Everyone else was pretty clueless in the class but I knew exactly what I was looking at. Sure, I learned a few more things but I already had the basics. Anyway, it was fun working with Nanny. Again, we always had time to talk which I appreciated.

Early 60s

Early 60s in Rancho Palos Verdes: Aluminum Christmas trees were the rage. Of course we had one. It was all silver and down in the corner by the t.v. there was a light with a four part screen on it that rotated through four different colors which in turn would make the tree look different colors all the time. Life seemed to be so much simpler back in those days. Speaking of the t.v., notice the old boxy t.v. that we had. It was black and white and we would sit around in the evenings watching shows like westerns, and variety shows. I remember sitting around that old t.v. watching the British sensation, The Beatles, on the Ed Sullivan show. Every once in a while, the t.v. would have something not quite working right and we would have to open the back and find the tube or tubes that most likely had burned out. You'd take them down to the store and test them in a machine and then get new ones to replace the burnt out ones. Of course, today, it is just cheaper to junk a t.v. that doesn't work and buy a new one.

For Christmas, we usually had very few presents under the tree that were wrapped. Instead, we'd wake up on Chirstmas morning and find all of our loot just layed out in groups according to who they were for.

In between us is Tiger, our white cat. He was a good old cat but I remember that when he got older, I would sometimes chase a mouse or something through the house and it would run right across his feet and he would just sit there like he was thinking, "am I supposed to be amused?"

Why did Mom feel like we three boys had to have the same pjs on?

Grandfather Hoey - Papaw

Today, I think I'll write about someone who has already passed on so as not to jinx them.

I was just six years old when my maternal grandfather passed away. It's been so long and I was just at the edge of when I began to remember things but I have a few memories of him.

My grandparents lived in Bogalusa, Louisiana. This also happens to be the place where I was born. Papaw (the firs "a" sounds like the "a" in "at") worked at the local paper mill. It seems that we went frequently to visit them. What I remember most was that he would take me for a ride on his motorcycle where we would end up at a service station. Not because he was out of gas or broke down but to go to the soda-pop machine and get a Dr. Pepper. That is about the extent of my memories of him, in particular, other than when he died back in 1959. I just remember a somberness around the house. He had Parkinson's disease and his hand shook all the time. He went to Houston to have brain surgery where they were supposed to just kill a small portion of his brain that controlled the shaking. Evidently, they went too far and he never came out of the surgery. There were law suits that went on for years but finally ended up being settled out of court. There are times when I wish he could have stuck around longer. There are so many things I would like to ask him.
Robert Wesley Hoey 1906-1959

Grassac and the Monclin's

These were probably some of my happiest days during my two years I spent in France back in '73 and '74. We were sent out to teach Anne Monclin who had an interest in the Church. She lived on a farm in a small town called Grassac. It was about 25 klicks outside of Angouleme. To get there, we would ride our velo-moteurs (motorbike with a 50cc engine and pedals to start it and get you up steep hills) out through the countryside and through the woods. The woods were full of wild pigs and we were always afraid we were going to run into one when we came home after dark. Arriving at the farm, you would turn off the main road and follow a narrow dirt road for about 1/4 mile after which you would pass through a canopy of trees which eventually opened up to the farm. It was always as if though you had entered a different world. Anne was already 90% Mormon in the beliefs that she already had. She and her husband, Michel, lived in pretty humble circumstances but they seemed to live a happy life. We went out to the farm usually several times a week. Sometimes we sat and talked and sometimes we rolled up our sleeves and helped Michel on the farm putting in fences and other things. They raised sheep as the main product on the farm. I do have to say that sheep have to be one of the dumbest animals I've ever dealt with. Anne raised rabbits and ducks to supplement their income. I remember she had one white rabbit that I could tell apart from all of the other white rabbits. Frequently, before we arrived, she would put that rabbit in a different cage to try and fool me but I always found that particular rabbit. She only knew where it was by the number of the cage and she was always amazed that I could pick one particular white rabbit out amongst all the others. Mylord, their dog, was always chasing us and getting into trouble. There were also goats that would follow me around like I was their mother or something. One summer, the branch came out on St Jean's day (21st of June, longest day of the year) to celebrate the beginning of summer. We built one humongous bonfire and had a nice soiree together. Often Anne would feed us and the fare was always very simple. I think it was the back to nature and simple life that I enjoyed so much as well as the company of the Monclins. I learned a lot about life out there on the farm surrounded by woods.

Anne joined the church and was a faithful member all her life. Michel never joined but he would always bring her into town, drop her off at the branch and then go to mass at the Catholic church. Anne's son, Brice, also joined the church and married another member of the church. Their children have gone on to serve missions and bring up their children in the church. Today, to the best of my knowledge because I haven't heard otherwise, Anne is in a rest home where she suffers from Alzheimer's. Evidently she doesn't know anyone any more. I will always remember her and Michel and count them as some of most favorite people in the whole world along with the rest of the family.

Life has a funny way of throwing things at you. Here, only six hours after writing this entry, I received word from a friend that Anne passed away today. I'm glad I took the time to remember and write about her this morning.

How I Met My Wife

I am frequently asked how I met my wife, Daniele. I met her, for the first time, while I was serving a mission in France. I had just been transferred back to Angouleme in the spring of 1974. The second day that I was there, there was a baptism taking place and it turned out to be Daniele's baptism. Like I said, this was my second stint in this town and I think that I had actually seen her once the year before. During the next few months, I got to know her somewhat through a mutual friend that I had made the year before. Of course, being a missionary, the friendship was just that. I was, however, very impressed by her mannerisms and even thought that I'd like to date her someday. Of course, that, at the time, was just wishful thinking because France was a long way from home and I didn't think I'd ever go back after my mission. I invited her and her friend to come visit me some day and after I returned home, we wrote each other from time to time. I dated several girls after I got home but none of them went anywhere. I thought more and more about Daniele, however, and I kept wondering if I could ever really see her again. A friend of mine, who worked with me at the San Pedro Hospital, (I was working as a Pharmacist assistant) one day while we were talking, told me that if I wanted to do something, I just had to make up my mind to do it. So I decided that I wanted to see Daniele. I took on a second job and began to save money for a trip to France. We wrote more often and I told her that I'd really like for her to come visit sometime. Finally, during the winter of 1976, I had the money and I set off for France. When I arrived, I stayed at the Monclin farm in the barn. (More about the Monclin's one of these days) Daniele lived within walking distance of there through the fields. I don't think I was there more than a day before we fell in love with each other and began a serious relationship. I spent three wonderful weeks over there before returning home. We spent most of that time together except for a short three day visit that I took up to Germany to deliver some items to my brother, John, who was serving a mission there. I always say that we spent the next four months dating by mail. My life, during those four months, was basically just working two jobs so I could save up more money. I bought her a ticket to come visit and later that year, while we were out on a drive, we stopped at my old High School in the parking lot that overlooks the Los Angeles basin and there, with that beautiful view, I proposed to her. We were married on Jan 14th of 1977 in the Los Angeles Temple. Somehow, I knew that she was the one and I had only bought her a one-way ticket to come see me.

Introduction

It was suggested to me that I should record my memories after someone saw a facebook entry I made. I thought about it and thought it would be a good idea so essentially what I will do here is choose from the many photographs I have and write something about it. I have many photographs from my grandmother but I have no idea what most of them are about and who is in them. As I thought about that, that is what prompted to do this and hopefully some day in the future, my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren will know a lot more about me than I know of my ancestors. So here we go...