click on any topic
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
BRIEF PEDIGREE:
CLARENCE WALL
VIDA TIMOTHY WALL
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH:
VIDA WALL
CLARENCE WALL
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF:
CLARENCE WALL
VIDA WALL
FAMILY PHOTOS:
GREAT GRAND PARENTS
C&V- GRANDPARENTS
C&V- PARENTS
CLARENCE- SIBLINGS
VIDA'S - SIBLINGS
VW- AS TEENAGER
CW- AS TEENAGER
C&V- YOUNG MARRIED
C.& V.- WEDDING
C&V ANNIVERSARIES
C&V- REUNIONS
C&V-REUNIONS-MORE
C&V- MISC. FAMILY
C&V- JIM'S FAREWELL
C&V - KID'S IN 1940's
C&V- KIDS-GRANDKIDS
FAMILY TRIBUTES;
FROM CHILDREN
GRAND CHILDREN
GREAT GRAND KIDS
FROM BOB WALL
OTHER FAMILY
FRIEND' S TRIBUTES
ACTIVITY PHOTOS:
SPRING CANYON
SHEEP SHEARING
COAL MINING
HUNTING DEER
MORE HUNTING
PHEASANTS
FISHING
FISHING- MORE
SQUARE DANCING
TRAVEL PHOTOS:
OLD UINTAH PHOTOS
UINTAH BASIN 2001
9-MILE CANYON
ALASKA 1995
ALASKA 1981
EUROPE
QUARTZSITE
QUARTZSITE- MORE
OTHER
TRIBUTES FROM CLARENCE & VIDA'S KIDS
Note: click on any name to go to that page
- Lois & Kevin Wall Jensen's Tribute to Clarence &
Vida
- James & Joan Wall's Tribute to Clarence &
Vida
- Lynn & Carol Wall's Tribute to Clarence & Vida
- Wilma & Andy Barnette's Tribute to Clarence &
Vida
- David & Shirley Wall's Tribute to Clarence & Vida
1. Lois & Kevin Wall Jensen's Tribute to Clarence & Vida
by Lois Wall Jensen - August 02, 2002
God blessed me with wonderful parents and a good home. In looking back I have so many great memories of childhood. It’s hard to just highlight a few.
Some of my earliest memories I have is the day Jim was born. Lefty and Colleen came to get me and I stayed with them for a few days. They lived in a green Apt. in Helper. They bathed me in the sink and treated me very well. All Dads’ uncles who lived in Spring Canyon were very good to us kids.
Dad always had a good job, if he didn’t, he found one. We lived in Spring Canyon, for the first nine years of my life. While in Spring Canyon, dad worked in the coal mine in the winter, and in the summer we traveled all over Montana as Dad sheared sheep. I never could figure out why Mom would get so ornery when we started to pack up the trailer to get ready to go, I guess it could have been that we lived in this little trailer on the road for three months. It wasn’t easy living in the mountains, with no modern facilities. Mom would wake us up early in the morning, make up our beds, cook breakfast, and wash all of our clothes on the scrubbing board. At night, mom checked us all over for ticks, if she found one; she would heat up a needle stick up and pull the head out. In a not so easy setting, mom always did her best to make things easier for us. I remember how much fun we had playing all day with our cousins, fishing at night and the best part of all was stopping in Ennis Montana to buy cowboy boots. During WWII Ennis Montana was the only place you could buy cowboy boots. We were the only kids in the coal camp that had cowboy boots. I also remember stopping in Madison, where Dad would put on his big rubber boots, wade in the rough river and catch huge fish. What a fun childhood we had.
We moved to Cleveland when I was nine. I was so excited we were moving away from the coal camp and going to live on a farm. Not only was I excited to move to the farm, but I knew we were only going to be 2 miles from Grandpa and Grandma Timothy. I was so blessed to be able to live so close to my Grandparents.
Dad always took us on vacation. We went to California, Washington, Oregon, Hebkin Lake Montana and Yellowstone. We were the only kids in town who got to go on vacation. On Labor Day we would go to the UMWA celebration in Helper. I remember Dad participating in the coal shoveling contest. I always thought my dad was the strongest one of all. I remember going to baseball games on Sundays and standing line in Price for hours waiting to buy tickets to watch Nathan Box. Mom and Dad included us in everything and always made us feel special.
I have some very special memories of Mom. She has always been a very attentive wife. She always had dinner on the table when Dad got home from work. She worked hard making her homemade bread, canning the garden grown fruits and vegetables and making dessert for every meal. Mom always encourages us in what ever we do. When I was young it was in school, later in life it has been in motherhood and my other interests. Mom has always been there to support us, when I had my babies she helped me and took special care of me. She still does
My Parents are the most generous people I know. They always make sure none of us are in need. As kids we always had plenty. I remember them telling me “don’t ever steal chickens or gas, if you need either, come and ask.” They taught us many things: be honest, work for what you get and to respect our country. (Don’t cheat on your taxes)
I have loved watching my parents grow old together. Not long ago Dad told me what a good women mom was, he said “she earned my pension as much as I did, it wasn’t easy being the mine foreman’s wife. They have an authentic friendship and a deep respect for one another. There love and generosity has overwhelmed me over the years. They are wonderful parents, the best grandparents my kid could have. They have always been there for my family and me. Thanks Mom and Dad for all you have done and all that you still do. You have loved me greatly, I love you both deeply
Lois Wall Jensen - August 2, 2002
Back to Top
2. James & Joan Wall's Tribute to Clarence &
Vida
A Tribute to My Parent's: Clarence & Vida Wall
Thoughts of my Father and Mother and the lessons of life they taught.
by James Wall,
The earliest memory I recall of my Dad was somewhere in Montana as Dad was returning from a long day shearing sheep. He had on long johns with white trousers or white overalls. The sleeves and front of his trousers were covered with the dark stains of sheep grease, and the unforgettable odor of sheep. There must be something addictive in that odor, Because Dad, even at age 86, cannot pass up a chance to be around a shearing corral. I remember how strong and fit he looked as a young man. Dad had a full head of wavy hair and the kind of muscle tone that only comes from shoveling coal or pushing a shearing machine thru tight dense wool from Rambulet Sheep. (Having tried my hand at shearing I cannot explain the strength and stamina it takes to spend 8 hours bent over those kicking struggling sheep (and incidentally, I never made it past a couple of sheep and my arms were tired). The sheep shearers, usually there were 8 to 12 shearers on a crew, would compete all day to say they were the best. All shearers were paid by the number of sheep they sheared. And the one who sheared the most sheep would also take home the most money and have the bragging rights for the day.
Dad began shearing sheep when Uncle Lefty (Eldon Krebs) acquired a shearing plant in California. (The Coal mines in Carbon County, where Dad had taken a job at 18 yrs. of age, I will cover later) Since coal was mostly used as fuel by persons to heat their home, when warm weather arrived the mines shut down. Each spring the mines would close down creating a depression like economy in Carbon County. In February, Dad, his Uncles and most of his Brothers would head to Bakersfield, California where they would shear the high desert bands. They followed the spring northward. First they moved to Utah. When the herds around Carbon and Emery County were sheared, they then moved to Idaho and Montana where they stayed for most of the summer.
What a sight we must have been, Mom Dad, three kids, and Sworts, the family dog, in the green 1941Chevrolet touring car pulling our 16 foot trailer house. The sheep herds were usually located in out of the way places, mostly in the mountains near streams. Us kids would often dig worms and sell them for 25 cents to the men each night. We never got tired of fish. Another source of income for us kids was cleaning the sheep shearing tools for the men. The tools (looked like a big set of hair clippers) would be strung on tie wire. Each of us kids had a coffee can where in which we boiled the tools. We used the gas stove to heat the water. This was the same stove Mother used to cook and heat water for washing clothes. After the water was brought to a boil and the Dreft soap was in solution, the grease would dissolve ,and loosen from the combs and cutters. Then, with some scraping and polishing, we earned another quarter. And this money was used buy World War II savings bond.
The highlight of the summer was always the time we spent on the Madison River in Montana. After several weeks of fishing we would pack tubs full of dry ice, wrap the fish in tarps and head home. Dad always shared the catch with everyone. Since World War II was raging, if you didn’t have a defense related job you could not buy gas for travel. Gas was rationed by the government in order to save it for the war effort. If you had a normal job that did not require travel, you could not get many ration coupons and hence, you just stayed home. Dad could always get ration stamps because wool was vital to the war effort. I mention this because this fact only enhanced the enjoyment of the fishing. Most others did not have the gas to travel to a fishing river. I might mention here probably the reason we didn’t stay longer was because Mom became home sick. I’m sure she was also tired of living in that trailer with all of us kids. Cooking on the gas stove, washing clothes by hand and worrying about kids falling into the river could cause you to get homesick.
Even though Dad worked very hard and always made good money there was a high price to pay, which would catch up to him in later years. When you see his knurled hands you can begin to understand just how hard he worked. I remember nights when he would lie in bed with his arm hanging down and the smell of liniment filling the trailer. Then back for another day holding that hot machine and fighting those ornery sheep. Dad always had one of the top tallies if not the top. He never missed a day of work if he could get out of bed. I only remember one time him being sick. The doctors could not figure out what was wrong. After some time in the hospital and bringing doctors from Salt Lake, they were at a loss. When Mom went in the next morning she said: “Clarence you have measles.” Those doctors then disappeared and Dad was on his way home very quickly.
When the summer rains came, and they usually did, sheep could not be sheared. A lesson that cost many sheep shearers their lives (I do not know what sheep fever is but I remember hearing the names of many men who died from shearing wet sheep.) When the men were idle, they would meet in the cook shack (large tent where the single or men with out their wives ate meals) for a friendly game of penny ante poker. Dad would win a pot and us kids would beg him to quit and go to the trailer. One time in Idaho it rained for 25 days straight. Dad would carry us from the trailer to the out house in his hip waders. Looking back, I don’t know how Mom put up with three kids and a dog in that small trailer.
One time the family ate lunch in Malad, Idaho then went up a canyon to set up the shearing corral. Dad parked the trailer and went to the sheep herd to set up the plant. He soon realized he was very sick and drank a full gallon of water and forced it back up. Then he returned to the trailer and found Mom and us kids passed out, due to various stages of food poisoning. Dad loaded us in the car and drove us to the nearest hospital. Now the story has a small variance as to where we went. I always thought we went to Downey but Mom said it was Malad. Since I am working on a memory span of about 59 years and Mom was very ill, the reader will have the opportunity to add to the story any facts they wish. Mom required stomach pumping and the kids got by drinking a lot of warm baking soda water. The next morning Dad was paying the bill, which was around $30.00. Of course being the impetuous and proud son I said to the doctor” Do you know my Dad makes a $100.00 a day” I couldn’t figure out what the problem was when Mom unceremoniously escorted me to the car. It may have been compounded when I told the doctor, that our Dog Swarts had eaten a hamburger and he was also near death.
Another fun story came about when Mom & Dad bought each of us kids a new pair of cowboy boots (an annual event whenever we passed through Ennis Montana.) When we got up on Round grove we were told we could not wear the new boots until the old ones were completely worn out. My brother Lynn wasn’t about to wait that long, so he threw his old ones in the creek (crik if you are from south of Provo). Hugh Fish was fishing down stream when the boots came floating by. In shear panic he ran up and down the bank looking for Lynn, or his body. Then he ran all of the way to camp for help. You can only imagine how he felt to see Lynn playing in his new boots.
Well I could fill a book with stories about the happy times spent with Mom & Dad on the “shearing road” The over riding principle was the hard work by both of our parents. The virtues taught by example.
Clarence Overland Wall was born at Ioka Duchesne Co. Utah Jan.15,1916. His parents were Wilford Woodruff Wall and Fanny Elizabeth Krebs. My Dad was the third of six children. The children's names were Orval ,Lloyd, Neva (the only girl), Clarence, Ernest Lowell and Evan. Wilford Wall moved to the Uintah Basin with his fathers family when the Homestead act was enacted. Fanny also came with her family at about the same time. Since I’m writing this from Moscow, Russia and don’t have access to records I will not make any attempt at getting too historical. Dad never told us kids anything about his youth, or never mentioned much about growing up when we were young. When Uncle Lloyd went through a divorce and came to live with us for a while, that was the first time I had a clue my Dad was ever a kid. I enjoyed hearing Lloyd and my Dad tell many stories about their experiences as children and teenagers.
There was the story of the whisky still located out in the cedar trees where it was hard to find. It seems the proceeds from the final product went towards maintaining the funds needed by the boys. Lloyd and later Dad told how their Dad (Wilford Wall) found their stash. They thought they were going to get into some deep trouble. A few days later however, Wilford, wanted to know if they had any more of the final product. Wilford was known to imbibe a few swallows now and then.
Dad was larger than the rest of the boys and was expected to do as much or more work. Dad’s Grandpa, William Adelbert Wall, had a large heard of dairy cows which he summered up in the Uintah Mountains. Dad was assigned to go tend and milk the herd all summer. The milking was all by hand, which was hard work. Dad told me that when his father saw what he had to do Dad’s Father was very up set and would not let him go the next year.
When the great depression began, Dad was only 13 years old. His mother was bed ridden from the effects of rheumatic fever and a father crippled from a broken back received while building the road through Nine mile Canyon for the state. The boys had to support the family. Orval, his oldest brother, went to Montana and the Big Hole Basin to work. He was in charge of breaking young draft horses. Orval wrote home and told Lloyd and Clarence he thought he could get them a job. With an old Model T Ford and few dollars, Lloyd and my Dad along with two other boys, took off for Montana. The ford lasted to Ogden Utah where it gave out. One of the boys had brought an alarm clock which he tried to pawn. The police accused them of stealing it. Having held them for a while and extracting a promise they would leave town, they were on their way again. The only means of travel available was the rail system. The boys got stationed at the edge of the rail yard. As the train pulled out they took off. Clarence may have been the largest but he wasn’t the fastest ,everyone caught the train except him. I can’t imagine how he felt, 13 years old alone, away from home and no money. The only thing to do was to start hitch hiking to Dillon Montana the prearranged meeting place. It took two days without food or sleep to catch up to his brothers. When he arrived the boys had been taken in by the hobo community for their food gathering appeal. When the boys did not show up, Orval hired a ranch hand to drive him to Dillon. When he arrived the boys thought they were just fine, so Orval gave up trying to persuade them and left for Jackson Montana and his job. A couple days later they had a change of heart and began to hitch hike for the Big Hole Valley. After a two day, 50 mile hike, without food they arrived. Clarence was assigned to the cook shack as a helper. This lasted two days until the cook got drunk and was dismissed. Dad became head cook and the top wage earner on the ranch.
At the end of summer they returned to Myton where Dad attended the ninth grade at Roosevelt high School. He earned a reputation as a boxer on the school team. The following summer. He worked on a ranch I think by Thistle. and returned home in the fall of the year. It was the last time he lived at home.
At 16 years old, Dad fibbed about his age so he could enter the C.C.C's. He spent two years in southern Utah and California. Again he used his boxing skills to his advantage. He traveled all over the western states as a member of the boxing team and won some championships. Dad sent all but $5.00 per month home to his mother. When he was released from the C.C.C. and went home his Mother had saved all of the money for him.
At the age of 18, Clarence went to Price Utah to visit Grandpa Krebs. He then went to Spring Canyon where some of his uncles worked in the mines. Clarence applied for a job in the mines and was hired. This was the beginning of a 47 year career underground. As I recall he began shoveling and loading coal on contract. Next Dad saw a way to make things better for his family and studied to get his shot fire papers. Then the Face Boss certification was earned at Carbon College.
The first home I remember living in was on what we called Wall Street in Spring Canyon. Other people knew it as “around the bend”. We lived in a camp house and the rent was somewhere around $10.00 per month. There was no indoor toilet, no insulation and no water heater other than a hot water jacket in the kitchen stove. This meant if you needed hot water you had to have a fire going no matter how hot the temperature was inside the house. We all bathed every Saturday night in a steel tub in front of the kitchen stove, whether we needed it or not. The water never got changed from the first child to last. Mother would wash our hair then pour water on our head to rinse it.
When Dad was made Face Boss in Spring Canyon, we moved up town to the Rock houses. We then had a bath room, but no insulation. The water heater was the same kind as described above..
In March of 1947 (the last year we went on the shearing road ) Dad bought 22 acres in Cleveland Utah close to Mom’s family. The first thing Dad did was plow up an acre for a garden spot. Even though Dad had to drive about 100 miles a day. He was determined to teach his sons the value of work. I can’t tell you how I hated crawling up and down those rows pulling those mouse ears weeds. Then in the fall watching Dad give most of the produce away to the baseball players from Arkansas puzzled me. I didn’t realize that Dad gave the produce away because they really needed the food. As I have grown older I have come to realize Dad probably has gone without and always gave what he had to those in need. That is probably the greatest gift my father has given me. And the same can be said of my mother who always put us kids needs before hers.
In December, 1935 My Dad was introduced to a lovely farm girl from Cleveland Utah. She was named Vida a feminine derivative for David, her father. Vida was born in Cleveland Utah on March 30 1916. My mother was the third child that lived beyond early child-hood. Her parents were David Timothy and Alice Johnson Timothy. I believe my mother said she was born in the old tithing office in Cleveland. Her siblings consisted of Vernice, Lola, Vida, Luis, and Jean. Two children, a boy named John and a girl named Lois died as infants.. The last two passed as a result of the epidemics that were common in the days of no sanitation and lack of medical knowledge. I don’t remember where they fit in to the family birth order, but I only know my mother was always very reverent when ever we decorates the graves. She has great love for them. In those days the family and friends took care of the dead until the burial. This was truly a labor of love ,loyalty, duty. I remember stories of sitting up with the dead. Placing coins over the eyes to preserve the appearance.
Mom developed a great love for animals. Her grand mother gave her a horse which she loved. My mother took great care of that horse. The condition of the gift was if the horse got infirm she would have to be” put down”. As the horse got older she began to have spells and would fall down. Vida knew if her Father found out he would keep her promise to her Grandma and terminate the horse. There is a conclusion to the story but I can not remember the facts enough to repeat it. I hope some one will have a chance to finish the story after the reunion
Vida was very close to her father and would do anything to get out of house work. The farm was where her heart was. Mom told me she had never heard Grandpa use any foul or abusive language or act unkindly to any animal. I remember Grandpa would not eat or rest until his animals were properly fed and handled.
Mom said she only lied to her Dad one time. It seems Wilma Cowley and she had the job of herding the milk cows on the ditch banks. This was an effort to use all available pasture grass and not waste anything. As I recall Bill Stokes felt personal about the grass on his bank and treated the girls somewhat different than they had previously experienced. After Bill left for home Vida and Wilma found an old skeleton of a horse. The put this skeleton in the head gate in the ditch as tightly as they could with horse bones. Next morning Mom was perched in her usual place beside her dad on the way to the farm, when they saw Billy frothing from the mouth. To say he was upset would be the worlds great understatement. Seems he was intent on administering a severe reprimand to my mother. Before he could lay a hand on Vida, my Grandpa Timothy asked Mom if she had in fact placed the bones in the head gate. Where upon Vida denied any knowledge of the event. Grandpa told Billy his daughter never lied and he would do well using his time looking elsewhere. I don't believe she never told Grandpa any different. Being a parent myself I doubt very much he didn’t know the rest of the story. The horse bones were not the only incidents of mischief devised by these two pranksters. When we moved to Cleveland in 1945 and people would find out who my Mother was they would tell me stories. I am sure some of them were urban legend by then. Perhaps Mom could be persuaded to tell some of them. One I remember was the trading of milk cows from Elmo to Cleveland and vise versa. Needless to say they were looked upon as the town cutups. Vida loved working the cattle and would not miss roundup and “The Mountain.”
Mom like Dad also was greatly effected by the depression and though she said they never went hungry they also didn’t have many of the things we consider the necessities of life. Mom told of her and her sisters sharing the same dress on alternate days, making underwear from feed sacks and many more methods employed to survive socially. She told of ways they devised for having fun, like chicken roasts, dances, and many other group activities usually involving horses as the mode of transportation.
When Vida was about 18” ( I think) “she took a job with a family in price by the name of Beckel. She picked berries, took care of the house and the children. She always spoke very kindly of these people. While she was living there a big handsome lad from Myton, Utah came to get her for a blind date. She knew immediately this young coal miner was the one she would marry. After a short courtship they were married on Dec. 21, 1935. Like everyone else that married at the end of the depression, they struggled financially and had very little in the way of worldly possessions. Dad had to borrow a car to attend his mothers funeral which happened in August of 1938.
My Mother and Dan started having children, first Lois in December of1936. Lois was followed by James in 1938, and Lynn in 1939. Then a pause of, I think of about 8 years, before David was born. David was followed by Wilma. My earliest memory of my Mother was every night coming in to help us kids say our prayers. The prayer was always the same: ”Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake. I pray the Lord my soul to take." After some hugs and kisses we knew we were set and protected for the night.
Mother is a tireless worker and never stops serving everyone who shows up. Her round loaves of bread are her signature treat. She always has whipped honey and peanut butter on her table. Mom never will say any thing bad about any one. She is always loyal to her family and always has plenty love for everyone. Every member of her very large family look forward to visiting Mom and Dad. Love and generosity are always in abundance. One story indicating her sense of responsibility occurred on my birthday, one very windy march day. The wind caused our turkeys to put their heads down and walk with the air flow. They were well on their way to Duane Jensen’s home when I saw them leaving. Mom seeing the difficulty I was having driving those determined birds back to our home, came to my rescue. After a lot of effort and chasing, the turkeys were rounded up. However, Mom in an attempt to head off the escaping turkeys, ran over a horse shoe peg tearing her skirt and taking a bad fall. If it hadn’t been my Mother it would have been kind of funny. Mom is always willing to do any thing for anyone. I have never known her to miss a chance to be like The Savior. It is impossible to write anything about Mom or Dad without the referring to both of them. They are one while they are here, and will be one when they go on to be with Heavenly Father and Jesus his beloved Son.
I could mention the fishing trips ,The vacations ,The ballgames ,The Duncan mountain deer hunts with all of our cousins and friends and many more, but I’m sure others will cover these areas.
Mom and always did everything together. They traveled and square danced all over the world. They have fished and hunted and spent time with their family. No one will ever know how many boxes of shells have been sprayed all over the Duncan Mountains with minimal if any damage to the deer population from Moms 30-30 or the old 25 Remington. Now Dad was another story; his 30-40 Krag accounted for unnumbered deer going home on the front fender of the car. Hunting was for food first and fun next. During the war shells were very hard to come by. I remember Dad and his brothers counting and sharing the available ammunition. Some times they would go hunting with as few as 5 or 6 rounds. This required some very careful marksmanship. When uncle Lloyds house in Spring Canyon burnt down it sounded like a war when his ammunition stash exploded in the heat.
The traits of character, integrity, work ethic, honesty, commitment, and the most important attribute of all, that of choosing the right companion, are legacies that all of us kids were lucky enough to get from our parents. This constancy and expected behavior by our father has probably attributed more to the happiness of his children than any gift he could have bestowed on his posterity. They were never active in the Church when we were growing up but they never stopped teaching us how the Savior would have us be. By example they always taught their sons how to love their companions and how to treat them. Their daughters were taught what they should expect a good companion to be. Mom and Dad have always applied the example of the Savior in nurturing their family and have patterned themselves to be as Christ like as possible. It is easy to see how their family loves them so. I’m sorry it took me so long to truly appreciate our wonderful parents. I love you Mom and Dad !!
James Wall - June 15, 2002
Back to Top
3. Lynn & Carol Wall's Tribute to Clarence & Vida
A Tribute to To CLARENCE AND VIDA WALL
FROM THEIR SON LYNN E. WALL
What I remember most about mom and dad as a youth: I was born on November 3, 1939 in Spring Canyon Utah in a mining house that was called “around the bend”. We later moved to a rock house in an area called up-town. Dad work in the coal mine in the winter and each spring the family would go what we called the shearing road where we traveled from Utah, Idaho and Montana shearing sheep which was a trade he learned from his uncles. Each year after all the sheep were sheared we would stop on the Madison River in Montana and fish for two weeks. We would camp at the Rock Creek camp ground which was later buried by an earthquake that formed Quake Lake. I was very young but can still remember watching Dad and his uncles fly fishing on the Madison and catching large Browns and Rainbows. Later when Dad quit going on the shearing road we would still travel to the Madison River and the Hebgen Lake in Montana for family vacations.
We moved from Spring Canyon to Cleveland Utah when I was five years old at which time dad and mom purchased a twenty one acre farm located two miles north of Cleveland.
Some of the things I remember most is driving to grandma and grandpa Timothy’s for Sunday diner with mom’s sisters, brother and our cousins. It was always a good time, however all of the kids would have to wait to eat until all the parents finished eating. This was the same farm Mom was raised on. Her father David Timothy raised five children on this eighty acre farm with a team of horses. Mom would work along side him helping run the farm and developed a love of horses and became a skilled horseman. She also learned great cooking skills from her mother and became the best cook in the valley she was best noted for her home made bread which she hand-mixed weekly or as needed and cooked it in round bread tins from the old country which she still has at age eighty six and still bakes bread in them.
Dad always grew a large garden which my older brother, James, and I would have to weed all summer . We would harvest all the vegetables and fruit in the fall and Mom and family would bottle all we needed for the year and would give the rest to anyone that needed or wanted it. Dad would also take anyone that stopped to visit down to the garden as the fruit became ready and load them up. He was always proud of what he grew. At age eighty six he still is growing and giving away most of what he grows. I guess this is because as a youth he never had very much and had to leave home and was on his own by age fifteen.
Dad has always been a hard worker. After getting a job in Hiawatha coal mine he became a Face Boss but still ran our small farm and sheared all the farmers sheep in the area. We had milk cows which required milking morning and night, and a small herd of sheep, pigs, turkeys and chickens. Dad taught me how to butcher our animals for our meat. He would even cure our own bacon and ham. We were quite self- sufficient and I can never remember going to the supermarket with Mom, however I am sure she had to go purchase some items once in a while. Along with all of this Dad lead the Hiawatha mine rescue team that would be called out whenever there was a mine disaster. He would lead his crew to recover the victims. I remember this happening at least three times while I was home.
Dad was a very good boxer and taught me how to box when I was very young. Dad developed this skill in the C.C.C. which he joined at age 15.
One of the highlights of the year was Christmas when all of Mom’s sisters, brothers, and our cousins would come to our home. We would exchange gifts and have a big dinner. We would play games, but the main events were horseshoes and a basketball game on our dirt court with a wooden backboard that we had nailed to the garage. Mom still continues this tradition of a big Christmas celebration every year.
After we moved to Cleveland, Dad & Mom purchased a fishing boat. The whole family would go fishing several times a year. Some of the places we would go were Fish Lake, Jackson Lake, Henry Lake & Hebgen Lake in Montana, and the later to Blackfoot Reservoir in Idaho. It was hard to beat Mom fishing out of the boat.
Another great time we had was deer hunting with Dad and his brothers. It was like a big family reunion. Every year we would camp at the mouth of the Duncan Draw in Salina Canyon. Almost every year we would fill up. The first year Dad took me, I was eight and I remember lying in the snow on the West Pass and I saw Dad shoot a two-point buck. I followed Dad every year until I was old enough to hunt alone.
As I started high school and participated in sports, Mom & Dad were always there at every meet or game and Mom was a one-person cheering section. She would embarrass Dad but I could always tell she was there.
I guess to sum this up: What I learned from Mom was fairness, honest, trust, and caring for everyone. No gourmet cook would hold a candle to her cooking. What I learned from Dad was how to work and work hard, to provide for a family, how to share what you have with those who need help.
It is hard to express the gratitude I have for mom and dad for all they have done for me and my family.
The weekend visits we made over the passed forty plus years is something we all look forward to.
The stories of the past are always a reminder of the good times we have had and how blessed I am for having parents that really cared.
Thanks for everything. I love you both.
Lynn Wall - May 27 2002
Back to Top
4. Wilma & Andy Barnette's Tribute to Clarence & Vida
MY TRIBUTE TO MOM AND DAD
by Wilma Wall Barnette
Growing up in Cleveland and Hiawatha was a special time in my life. I never remember any hard times. And the only sad time I remember was the year we had five deaths in Mom’s family. Dad always made a good living and Mom was a fantastic cook and made our home comfortable.
Mom and Dad always loved to have company come to the house. Mom would whip up a delicious dinner in no time, and Dad always had a joke to tell or would give somebody a cup of coffee in the frog mug. He loved to see the look on their faces when they got to the bottom of mug and saw the frog.
I remember Bob, Ernie and Corky and some of their friends sometimes came down from Spring Canyon on Mutual nights. I don’t think their parents knew that they were coming down. Mom & Dad enjoyed these kids. My parents had a special place in their hearts for young people.
Mom was the disciplinarian in our family. Whenever David and I fought, Mom would smack us both. She told tell us, “now I know I got the right one”. Dad was usually a softie. I can recall a story about Lois. When Lois was thirteen years old, she asked Dad if she could take the car to Huntington. Dad told her no and Lois started crying immediately. She told Dad she was going to be an old maid, so Dad let her take the car. Lois always told me if you ever want something from Dad, just start crying and you will get it.
Every year Mom & Dad would invite the Hiawatha baseball team and their wives n to Cleveland for a chicken fry and corn roast. Mom and Dad would kill the chickens and Dad would pick the corn. Dad would string lights outside for the party. What a good time they we all had.
On Christmas every year Grandpa and Grandma Timothy would come to our house and stay on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day, Mom’s sisters and brother and all their families would come for Christmas dinner. What great memories.
During pheasant season Dad’s family would come and stay for the weekend. Mom would cook up a storm, and always made a big pot of beans for Saturday dinner. Everyone who hunted got a limit of pheasants. I remember having them laid out on the lawns and everyone taking pictures.
For the world series, a bunch of people would come down from Hiawatha to watch the game. We were only the second family in Cleveland to have a TV. Hiawatha didn’t have TV. I use to love it when the Arkansas people came; they always had so much fun and everyone did a lot of laughing.
Dad would often shear sheep in the springtime in Emery and Carbon counties . The money he earned always paid for us to go on vacation. We usually went to Yellowstone, but sometimes we went to California. It was so much fun to stop in McCammon, Idaho and see Evan & Lavessa and their family. It was fun go to the Texaco station and Motel and see Orval and Jewell.
When we went to California to see Lowell and Francis we had a great time. When we left Monterey we would drive down the coast and go to Mom’s aunt Vera’s house. She always took us to Knots Berry Farm or some place special.
In the summer we usually went to Fish Lake a couple times to fish. Our whole family would go, and sometimes Mom’s family would go with us. Dad always made the breakfast. Nobody could make pancakes like Dad.
I always felt sorry for the kids my age in Cleveland. I think we were the only family who ever got to go on vacation. David and I never did get to go on the shearing road, and I always wish I could have done that. It sounds like that was the highlight of Lois, Jim and Lynn’s summer.
It was always fun to go to Spring Canyon on Sundays and see Jewell and Orval, Lou and Ann Timothy, and Lloyd and Margaret. Mom always made us wear old cloths because we would get so dirty. I guess it was because of all the coal dust we got on our clothes as we played outside climbing rocks.
When Lloyd met Margaret they bought a home in Orem. Dad’s family would sometime meet there for dinner. We had a great time playing with the cousins. I remember Delbert laying out one summer in his bathing suit at Lloyds, he got a terrible sun burn. Delbert asked Dad if he had anything to put on it. Dad put some “Absorbine Junior” on his back and Delbert went running through the house screaming with pain. Every one got a big kick out of that, especially Dad.
We moved to Hiawatha in 1959. Dad was promoted to General Mine Foreman and had to live in the town. I was so excited to live in a town. We always lived on the farm in Cleveland, which was two miles out of town.
Mom and Dad joined a square dancing club and danced all over the world. They took two trips to Hawaii, two trips to the Caribbean, and also a trip to Europe. I am so glad they were able to make these trips. After Dad’s retirement they went down to Quartzsite Arizona for a few months in the winter and met Dad’s brothers. The men spent time making clocks out of ironwood and the women would crochet and fix some good pot-luck dinners. It was such a good time in their lives to be able to meet with their family and not have to be home in cold weather.
The love that my Mom & Dad have shown to me means so much to me. They taught us to have a sense of humor, to be honest and to have respect for other people. Mom and Dad always taught us by example, and for that I am grateful.
I love you Mom and Dad so much. I couldn’t ask for better parents. If everyone had parents like you this world would be a better place with a lot less violence and a lot more love. I couldn’t ask for a better childhood. Thank you for providing me and my brothers and sisters with a truly wonderful life.
Wilma Wall Barnett - June 26, 2002
Back to Top
5. David & Shirley Wall's Tribute to Clarence & Vida
A Tribute To Clarence and Vida Wall
By David Wall -- May 2002
My fondest memories of my mom and dad extend back to my early childhood when we lived on the farm in Cleveland, Utah.
My father always planted a garden, a BIG garden. He treasured what he produced with his own hands, yet he was generous in giving away the fruits of his labors. No one had to ask, he had a way of sensing his or her needs, and then he gave them some of his most treasured possessions. This expression of generosity has extended to his mature years, where even in 2002 he planted over 20 tomato plants – mom and dad could never eat or store that many tomatoes; he planted them to give them away.
While a young boy I had heard of my fathers exploits as a boxer, not only in the ring, but also in the parking lot. I looked forward to the day when I would see this tough guy live up to his reputation. That day came when I was around eight years of age. We were at the Black Diamond Stampede rodeo in Price. A large man dropped cigarette ashes on my mother back. Dad asked him not to, then he did it again. I believe he had one too many (not dad, the other man.) I remember thinking, oh boy, here we go - the day I had always looked forward to had finally arrived. Then, much to my surprise, rather than move into action, he proceeded to resolve the confrontation peacefully. I didn’t understand it at the time. As I have matured, I came to realize that this tough old brawler from the Uintah Basin was really a peacemaker. He taught me that controlling your emotions was more important than proving you could beat the dickens out of every bully in town. It was good enough for me to know that he could, if he had too.
We always had a boat and went fishing during the miners’ vacations. I treasurer those trips to Fish Lake and the many vacations in Montana and Idaho. Our hunting trips to the Duncan Mountains also hold great memories for me. While I could enumerate many specific fishing and hunting stories, there is one theme that has always stayed with me. Dad always made certain others were given the first choice of gear to fish with or the best spot on the ridge from which to bag a deer. There were numerous times he would wound a deer, then as he approached the downed animal, some else would claim they had actually killed the animal. We saw many large deer we knew dad had killed end up in some else’s camp. On one occasion, dad let a young boy claim a deer dad had a mortally wounded. I also noted my father had one other trait; he made certain the person who claimed the deer tagged it as well.
Let’s not forget the Wagon Master. Mother was no bleeding heart about deer hunting. She was John Wayne and Ward Bond all wrapped up into one tenacious woman. She wasn’t the camp cook, but she made certain camp was set up and taken down correctly. She bagged her share of deer as well and always had a good story to tell about the one that got away. We had to be eight years old to go hunting. We started with mom, and then progressed to hunt with dad; then on our own. It was a natural maturing process for us kids that transcended long beyond our youth. I long to sit on the ridge at the West Canyon once again with mom and dad and watch the sun fill that beautiful country with beams of morning light.
Dad always had a special relationship with animals and little kids. They seemed to sense this tough guy had a unique peace about him and would not harm them. We had a cow that would only let dad milk her. This was particularly a problem when dad was at work or was not available during milking time. ‘Ole Betsy had a way of swinging that cocklebur filled tail around my head in an apparent effort to get my attention and seemingly ask, “Where’s Clarence”? When dad milked her she would lick his face; the tail never moved.
Mother had a special spirit about her as well. She was fearless. Though barely 5’2” (on one of her better days) she would stand up to anyone. She personified the tenacity of her mother, yet the gentleness of her father. Perhaps she knew she had a heavy weight golden gloves boxer behind her for support. However, dad knew better than to mettle in mothers affairs.
On one occasion we received a notice that Emery County was changing the green belt status of our property that would result in a substantial increase in our property taxes. The notice presented the option to appear and dispute the tax increase. Mother showed up at the courthouse in Castle Dale along with a group of other people (she was early of course.) By the time they opened the door for business, she had the group in such a frenzy they nearly had to call out the riot squad.
Our move to Hiawatha in the early sixty’s brought about mixed emotions for me. I had established myself in North Emery High School. I didn’t want to leave my friends nor my opportunities in athletics. The decision to move must have been difficult for mom and dad as well, yet it turned out to be the turning point of my life. I truly believe if we had not moved to Hiawatha, I would have not achieved a formal education nor met Shirley. I have always sensed I would have been sent to Vietnam, and probably not returned. I will forever be grateful for the decision made by my mother and father so long ago.
I have always appreciated how mom and dad accepted our children as they came into our lives. I sensed it was difficult at first for dad to accept our little Anne. She would lock the door to his shed or turn off his satellite system; yet, he was always patient and showed her great love. She loves her grandpa and to this day calls him her “friend”. Few people in her life are given that special designation. She especially gets a kick out of seeing him take out his teeth.
As my parents have grown into their senior years, I have seen a maturing process that has brought about physical changes. Dad’s crippling arthritis has disfigured his body, yet he continues to work. Even when his arthritis is so bad he has trouble even buttoning his shirt, he is often found in his shed making clocks – all of which he gives away. From my knowledge alone, his clocks are in Russia, Canada and France as well in many homes throughout the United States.
As I conclude this tribute to my mother and father, I have not even touched on the many wonderful life enhancing lessons and stories. I hope this tribute expresses a theme that describes two people who love one another; who have worked hard, been generous with their possessions, taught their children well, faced life’s difficult tests with dignity and fostered a new generation who love them. We love you mom and dad and appreciate all you have done to enhance the quality of life for all your posterity.
By Dave Wall - May 2002
Back to Top