Forrest Buchanan - Autobiography (undated)

Personal History

My grandfather was a great friend of the Indians. He served many times as interpreter. He was called Unca Kibe, meaning Red Mountain Boy, by the Indians. He had a beautiful team of horses, and on a night an Indian stole his team. When the other Indians saw the team, they knew who it belonged to and made him return it to grandfather.

During my youth I spent a lot of times with others of my age spearing carp in the Sevier River. We would only have a shirt on and with a pitch fork we go up the river and spear the fish and throw them out on the bank, and also did lots of fishing. We played lots of games, like Run Sheep Run, Hide and Seek, etc.

One Christmas I received a bicycle and soon learned how to ride it. [I] had a billy goat and taught it to pull me in a cart. I also trained a dog to pull a cart. One time I was giving my sister a ride and the dog took after a cow, he really gave her a ride. The axel broke on the cart and she was dumped out in some weeds. It didn't hurt her, just [gave her] a good scare. I had a saddle horse at one time, and it was a real special horse. It had more sense than any horse I['d] ever seen. You could put a six or seven year old on its back and they couldn't make it go faster than a slow walk, then with a ten year old maybe a trot. An adult could really make it go. One time my father was going down to the farm (everyone lived in town and had their farms surrounding the town) and he stopped to talk to one of my uncles. He was still on the horse. He had been there for a little while. When he went to leave, the horse wouldn't move. My dad got really out of sorts with the horse. Just then another neighbor came running towards them yelling not to move that horse, because standing between the horse's front legs was a little boy with an arm around each leg. So the horse was real special. As soon as they got the boy away from the horse he moved, so Dad was really sorry of mistreating the horse.

I helped my Dad in butchering animals - beef, mutton, pigs and chickens. I even learned how to skin a pig (not scrape it).

Our farm in Venice was 40 acres and our water supply was very meagre. Sometimes our crops would only get one or two waterings and it was so scarce that we would nurse it through every furrow and not waste a drop. In harvesting our alfalfa hay, we would pile it with a dump rake then pitch it on the wagon. There was a Vee rope * on the wagons. We would stack the hay on these ropes. My dad would pitch it on and I would tromp the hay and fall in the holes in the middle then haul it to the stack. There would be two heavy ropes on the stack with a loop on each end rope this loop would be fastened to the knot on the Vee rope on the wagon. The ropes would be as long as the stack. Then there was a steel cable with a hook on one end and a clevis on the other end. We would throw the cable over the load of hay and hook it into the loop of the Wee rope, then take the horses off the wagon and hook them to the clevis on the cable. My Dad would be on the stack holding the ends of the ropes anchored to a pitchfork stuck in the hay, and with the poser of the team we could roll that load of hay all the way up the stack. Then release the ropes and pull them out of the hay. Then after the hay was spread out and levelled off we would reset the ropes and cable and go get another load of hay. Occasionally the load of hay would be stacked one sided and it would tip over and I got buried a few times with hay.

We would cut the ripened grain in bundles then haul them and stack them in a round stack then the threshing machine would be set up so that the bundles could be fed heads first into the feeder, the grain would be separated from the chaff and straw and the straw would be blown into a stack. We had lots of fun on these straw stacks, sliding down.

We had some milk cows and would milk them by hand night and morning. My dad graduated from the eighth when he was in school and won a scholarship to the University of Utah but was never able to utilize this scholarship. So when I was in my sophomore year of High School, my dad had a desire to go into Forest Ranger Service, but when he applied, the requirements called for a High School diploma (which he didn't have) because he graduated from the eighth grade. So he did something that seemed like an impossible task. He went back to High School and tool all the subjects for the 15 credit requirement for graduation all in one year. Then we moved up to Logan, Utah and started college at the Utah State Agricultural College. He spent a couple of years training for a Forest Ranger then found out there were no openings.

I want to back track a bit - while we were still living in Venice, They had Farmers Encampment up on the campus of USAC and families would gather there and have real enjoyable outings and stay for a few days. I remember that old sardine dugway between Brigham City and Logan. It sure was a dangerous dugway. I also remember the awful dugway going to Fish Lake and how steep the climb was and the old Model T cars, where they had the gravity flow for the gasoline, that they would have to turn the cars around and back up the steep distances.

Now continuing at Logan. When Dad found out he couldn't get in the Forest Service we moved out to North Logan and again took up farming. We stayed there a little over a year and bought some property west of Tremonton. We lived in a home that was built after the style of some Iowa people that moved out here. They were square frame buildings about three stories high. One year in this location we had a litter of pigs. They were the white haired variety, can't recall the name, but anyway they had made a remarkable growth and the Ag teacher saw them and insisted that we enter them into the Ogden Livestock show of 1938, so we did. They weighed an average of 260# at the age of six months. There were six in the litter. Well, I took first prize in both the Junior and open market, and champion in the Junior division and Grand Champion of the whole show in the swine department. Swine was selling for 6 cents a pound at the time and these sold for 35 cents a pound so we were sure elated over the whole experience. I never had the experience at showmanship so I only got fifth place in that category, but it was a grand experience anyway.

My mother was an excellent cook and candy maker. For many years she would enter her candy, bread and pastries in the county fair and would take the blue ribbons on all her goodies.

In 1945 I left home and went to work up in Idaho. I worked on a dry farm in Cleveland. Then later on I worked in the potatoes in Blackfoot, then in a grocery store in Idaho Falls. While there I did a lot of Temple work.

I was called on my Mission while I was in Idaho Falls. A man by the name of Walter Clark from Squirrel, Idaho who was a temple worker offered to send me on my mission, which I accepted. I was called to the New England States Mission in March 1947. I labored was in Bridgeport and New Haven, Conn. Yale University is in New Haven and we would go over to Yale to take our showers. About this time, S. Dilworth Young was called as mission president and I was transferred up Sanford, Maine. Pres. Young got permission from the state officials to do tracting without purse or script, and street meetings.

Forrest D Buchanan (undated - apparently some notes for himself to follow in giving a history)

I was born on 7 March 1918 in Venice, Sevier County, Utah to Archie Earl Buchanan and Florene Davis. My father was born in Colonia Dublan, Chihauha, Mexico on 25 March 1892 to Archibald Waller Overton Buchanan and Caroline Sophia Sorensen. My mother was born 28 April 1896 in Kanarra, Iron Co., Utah to Henry William Davies and Annie Isadore Roundy. I was baptized on 26 June 1926 by Wayne Christensen in Richfield, Sevier Co. Utah and was confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints by Archibald Walter Buchanan 27 June 1926, I received my patriarchal blessing in Idaho Falls on by John W. Telford.

When we had a tipover with the old Ford in Monroe

Went to Fish Lake on the Dugway went hunting - went fishing

Had my first pony - my first bicycle.

Fell out of a swing and got the breath knocked out of me at Cowleys, got sunburned fishing and spearing fish in Sevier River.

Got covered up in the hay - and in tipovers.

Went on the mountain to look after the sheep and we both got sick on egg sandwiches.

I herded sheep during the summer along the streets and canal banks and railroad - topped and thinned beets

Went up to the sand ledges for Easter - tromped wool with Dad sheared. Took a picture of two lone sheep alone

Forrest Buchanan - Autobiography (written 1978)

As for my roots: 16 generations back, one of my ancestors named Sir Walter Buchanan married Lady Isabel Stewart in 1443, and through the marriage, I can trace my ancestors to all the Kings of England, Scotland and the Roman Empire. Now five generations farther back there was a property near Loch Lomond in Scotland that was named Buchanan. And an ancestor by the name of Gilbert MacCausland took the name of the property as his Sir name. This happened in the year of 1025 A.D. . From here seven generations back there was an ancestor by the name of "Anselan O'Cathain O'Bocain, which became anglicised to Buchanan. His son was named John MacAnselan (MacCausland), and from each ancestor down to Gilbert (who took the name Buchanan), took the title of Laird of Buchanan. Then from Anselan O'Cathain O'Bocain my ancestors continued through all the Monarchs of Ireland for sixty five generations. Then from here there is a direct line back to Noah.

Now seven generations from Sir Walter Buchanan, my ancestors name was George Buchanan and he married Elizabeth Leckie about 1590. Two of his sons moved to Ireland for religious freedom. One was also named George and he married Elizabeth Mayne in 1675. They had four sons. They settled in Tyrone Co., Ireland near Omagh. He had a son Thomas, my direct line he moved to Donegal Co., Ire. He had a son William, and his children came to America. He had one son John who remained in Ireland and married Jane Russell. He had a son John, who married Nellie Reid. He had a son John, who married Nancy Ann Bach in 1812.

Nancy Ann's parents were Harmon Bach and his wife was Martha or Margaret. His parents were from Germany, the town of Freudenberg, in the Nassau-Siegen area (central Germany) and they trace back to Thuringia (East Germany) where Johann Sebastian Bach was from.

This John, who married Nancy Ann Bach, he with his wife heard of Mormonism and joined the Church and moved to Nauvoo. He suffered many hardships and privations, and he died in Lima, Illinois in 1839, leaving his wife with eight children to care for. When the Saints were driven from Nauvoo, Nancy Ann with her children left also on Ox team covered wagon. Her oldest son Eugene helped as much as he could. When they arrived in Utah, they were sent south to Manti. Some of the brethren in town built a dugout in the hillside for Grandmother and her children to live in. My Great Grandmother lived in Manti the rest of her life. She died in 1884. Most of her children stayed there. Her son Archibald Waller Overton Buchanan, my Grandfather, when he got married he moved to Sevier County, to the town of Glenwood. He lived during the polygamy period. He had four wives. They got along extremely well. While they were living in Glenwood the town practiced the United Order for quite a number of years, and were very successful in their endeavors. My Grandfather's fourth wife was my Grandmother. Her name was Caroline Sophia Sorensen. Both of her parents came from Denmark from the island of Sjelland near Holbaek. She and her parents and most of her brothers and sisters joined the Church in Denmark. They suffered much persecution, so they migrated to America then to Utah. The children from the four wives totaled 27, my father being the last and he had a twin sister. He died two years ago, 5 August 1976.

My Father married Florene Davis, they were married 7 Feb 1917, and I was their first child. I have four sisters and two brothers and they are all living. My birthplace was Venice, Sevier, Utah 7 March 1918.

I was baptized 26 June 1926 in the Stake Tabernacle in Richfield, Utah. I attended Grade School in Venice, and Junior High in Richfield and the first two years of High School in Richfield. The second two years in Logan, Utah.

The town of Venice has the Sevier River winding through the center of the town. I used to have a lot of fun around this river. We could swim, fish and wade. Sometimes we would be only clad in a shirt and with a pitchfork we would go up the river and spear fish, mostly carp, and throw them out on the bank. It brings back fond memories.

My father always had a lot of sheep while in Venice, and every Spring they would have to be sheared. My father had his own shearing outfit and he would shear them and I would tie fleeces and tromp them in those huge wool sacks. They were three feet in diameter and about ten feet long. There was a scaffold that the sacks could be hung on. We had a metal ring, just the diameter of the sacks, then by folding the top over the ring, and fasten it with a few nails, then the wool could be tossed in, then I would climb in and tromp it tight and hard. We would poke small quantities of wool in the corners at the bottom, then tie the corners to form handles to maneuver them around when loading them on the trucks or wagons. My father would take his shearing outfit to all the farmers around town, who had sheep and shear all their sheep. So I had lots of experience of tromping wool. During the summer days when not in school, I would herd a small band of sheep, about thirty or forty head. All along the roads, canal banks, railroad tracks, for them to graze. I had a bird dog with me. He loved to chase sticks, and would always bring them back so he could run again. The only way he could scare the sheep was if I threw the stick in the middle of the sheep. He would scare them, but all he was interested in was the stick. I had another dog who was part Collie and part shepherd, one ear would stand up the other would fall down but he would tear the flesh of the sheep. So I took a tin can, and cut both ends out of it, and wired it on his head over his nose. This way he could scare the sheep without hurting them.

I built a cart with shavs on the side and made a harness for the dog, and trained him to pull the cart. I had a lot of enjoyment with this dog. One time I was giving my sister a ride in the cart. We got near some cows and he took after them. He really gave my sister a ride. The cart went over a bump, and threw her out, and before I got the dog stopped, the cart was a wreck.

We had a real special riding horse. You could put a small child on his back, and the horse would walk real slow, then put a six or eight year old on and they could make him walk fast, then put a teenager on and they could make him trot. Only an adult could make him go fast. One day as my father was going down to the farm, he stopped and talked to one of my uncles along the way. When they got through with their visit, Dad tried to move the horse, but he wouldn't budge, then someone came running and said that a small boy was standing between the horse's front legs, with an arm around each leg. The horse didn't move until the child was removed.

I went on several deer hunts with my father and friends and relatives, and on many fishing trips in the mountains, especially when we went up on the mountain range to check the cattle or the sheep. In the late spring the wild flowers would cover whole hillsides in the most beautiful array of colors, really a sight to behold. On one occasion in the mountains, after we had checked on the cattle, we decided to go fishing. It was late afternoon. We were having such good luck that it started to get dark on us before we started for camp. Somehow we took the wrong fork of the stream and wound up in an area we weren't acquainted with, and we became lost. We spent several hours trying to find our way out, but to no avail. So Dad started to holler as loud as he could. He soon got hoarse, but someone heard us and started to holler back. We finally got to their camp about eleven o' clock at night, and found that we were about five miles from our camp. It was quite an experience to remember.

We always had a variety of animals around the farm, and when we needed meat for the family we would kill what ever we needed. So I learned from my Dad how to butcher animals, and chickens, and also how to cut and wrap for freezing. I learned many times how to scald and scrape hogs. I even learned how to skin a pig and that's quite an experience, but it can be done, for when you get through you don't have the rind to bother with.

We had a 40 acre farm in Venice, and were able to raise hay and grain and sugar beets, but there was a real water shortage. We had to utilize every drop, sometimes there would only be one watering for all the summer's hay crop. Every type of crop had to be furrowed off so the benefit of the irrigation could be reached as far as possible.

In harvesting our alfalfa hay, after it was cut, we would pile it with a dump rake. Then after it was cured and dry we would haul it loose on a hay rack. All we had for wagons were the old iron tire wagons. We had a unique way of stacking our hay. We had what we called a Vee rope. This rope was about an inch and a half in diameter and it was long enough to cross the wagon twice. It would be placed on the wagon in the shape of a vee, with a loop on the vee side and on the ends a knot. Then the hay would be stacked on the rope and tromped. When we got a good size load on we would haul it to the stack, and there on the stack we would have two heavy ropes as long as we wanted to make the stack. Each rope had a loop on the end, so they could be attached to the knots on the Vee rope under the load of hay. Then we had a steel cable that was twice as long as the stack. The cable has a hook on it. We throw the cable over the load of hay and hook it in the loop on the Vee rope. Then I would take the team of horses off the wagon and take them around behind the stack and hook on the cable. Dad would take the pitch fork and stick it in the hay and wrap the other ends of the long ropes around the pitch fork handle to anchor the ropes. So while Dad was holding the ropes, I with the team would roll the load of hay right up the stack wherever he wanted it. Then he would release the ropes and I would pull them free. Then after the hay was leveled out I would have the ropes and cable ready to be placed on the stack for the next load, then hitch the team up and repeat the process. We could build stacks thirty to forty feet high and sixty to seventy feet long. In the winter time, when we feed the hay we had a hay knife that we could cut a section off the end, then as that was used down to the ground, then we could start a new cut and so on. We cut all our grain with a binder with it cut this way it would be in bundles. Then when the grain was dry we would haul it and stack it in round stacks about twenty feet high. Then the threshing machine would come and they would pitch the bundles in the machine. After the grain was separated, the straw was blown out into a stack. As kids we sure had a lot of fun on these straw stacks.

While we were living in Venice, they had what was called the Farmers Encampment, which was held on campus of the Utah State Agricultural College at Logan. There were farmers from throughout the State that gathered there, driving their old cars. It was a real experience. They furnished all the buttermilk you could drink. There were lots of activities and games of all kinds and gatherings for the parents. One thing that I vividly remember was that the old Model T Fords had gravity feed gas and on some of those steep dugways, they would have to be turned around and backed up the hill to get to our destination.

It wasn't long after this that Dad wanted to try out for a Forest Ranger, so after my Sophomore year we moved to Logan, Utah, and Dad went to College to train for the Forest Service. He went for two years then found there were no openings. So we moved out to North Logan and rented a farm. We lived there about a year and a half. In the meantime Dad spent a lot of time searching up through Idaho and Northern Utah for a piece of ground to buy. He finally located an eighty acre farm in West Tremonton and bought it for 8,000 dollars. It had a big home on it, also a barn, granary and other small buildings. Dad got a loan from the Federal Land Bank. We were there two or three years, and one spring we had a litter of pigs. They were pure white, they had made a remarkable gain in weight. They were six months old and they averaged two hundred and fifty pounds each. Well, the Ag teacher was out to our farm one day and he saw those pigs, and said that we just had to get them in the stock show. (The Ogden Livestock Show was just starting.) So we took him up on it and entered them in the livestock show. I took first place in the Junior division and the open in both the single pig and the pen of three, and Champion of the Junior Division and Grand Champion of the whole show in the swine department. This happened in 1938. There were six pigs in the litter.

In 1945 I left home and went to work in Idaho on a dry farm in Cleveland, just above Preston. Then later on I worked in the potatoes in Blackfoot, then in a grocery store in Idaho Falls. I did a lot of Temple work while there, and I was called on my Mission also in Idaho Falls. A dear friend named Walter Clark, who was a temple worker and had a farm in Squirrel, Idaho offered to send me on my mission which I accepted. I was called to the New England States Mission. I went in the Mission Home in March 1947. The first place I labored was in Bridgeport, Conn., then New Haven, Conn. Yale University was only a block away. We would go there and take our shower when needed. William H. Reeder was my Mission President for about three months. S. Dilworth Young replaced him. We had the privilege of working under his leadership. Soon after this I was transferred to Sanford, Maine. While there Pres. Young got permission from state officials to hold street meetings and to go country tracting without purse or scrip. This was a new experience that we had read about, but never thought we would have a chance to try it out. Up until now we spent all our tracting time in the cities going from house to house, but now we were assigned to go out in the country, depending solely on the people. In making preparations for this venture, we found that we could purchase paper collars. We cut our collars off our shirts, and attached these paper collars on, and when they got soiled they could be turned wring-side out and they would last about a week. We washed our garments and shirts and socks in the brook and while they were drying we would have our study class. We were told not to accept any rides or we would pass up homes. So we walked whereever we went. We found that the people in the country were friendly and curious and hospitable. We were out only in the summer time, which was four months, but during that time we had much success in getting into homes and had many fine discussions and were fed well. The only money we spent was to get our shoes repaired and to have our suits cleaned, which amounted to about eight dollars. We walked 150 miles. There were quite a few investigators gained from that first summer. The second summer I was transferred to southern Vermont, and didn't have near the success as in Maine. Everywhere we went we encountered Seventh-day Adventists, who listed us as their investigators, and likewise we were doing the same to them. In the four month period we slept out 13 nights and missed 26 meals. We slept in gravel pits, hay stacks, twice got permission to sleep in a school house. In fact I got sick from it all and it caused me to be released about three months early, but I'm glad I had that experience. We gained much, and it really strengthened my testimony. We received so many blessings.

While in New England we had the privilege of visiting the granite quarries, the paper mills, clothing mills, one in particular was where they make Martha Washington bed spreads, and we witnessed them in the making, also visited slate quarries, where they make slate shingles. They uncover large slate rocks, and while they are still moist, they take their chisels, and gently tap on the seams, and the slate slabs separate and they are about a quarter of an inch thick, then they are cut and holes punched for the mails when they are installed on the houses. Most all the homes in this part of Vermont have slate roofs. The color is a dark dull green, with faint brown stripes.

After returning home, i.e. Idaho Falls, the Bishop of the ward I left wouldn't re-arrange his schedule so I could report my mission unless I waited a couple of months, and I didn't have any thing to keep me there, so I reluctantly went back to Utah. Walter Clark felt bad, but I didn't know what to do, but in the meantime, my Dad had sold the farm in West Tremonton, and moved to Deweyville. I stayed home for the summer, but got restless. I moved to Salt Lake. I had many short-term jobs. I was staying in an apartment near the State Capitol, and there was a girl living in one of the apartments there that just knew that I was the one she had been praying for. But I couldn't stand her. She was such an odd person. She finally decided that I wasn't interested in her, so she decided that I should meet her girl friend. I thought if she was anything like her, I didn't want to be bothered. But I finally consented to meet her and it ended up that I married her, after about four months of dating. So we were married on 26 January 1950. Our first child, a boy, was born 18 Dec. 1950. We named him Joseph Forrest. He is now married and has three children, and they are presently living in Chicago Illinois. He works for United Airlines as a computer programmer. Our second and last child was born 11 Dec. 1954. He is presently married and lives at the University Village in Salt Lake. He works at the Computer Center at the Merrill Building and goes to school part time.

After we were married, we went on a honeymoon down to Los Angeles, and Catalina Island, and visited some relatives also. Our first apartment was on South Main in Salt Lake. Next we moved to an apartment on A Street on the Avenues. There our first son was born. We later moved to a home on 750 East on 4200 South. I was working as a candymaker at Maxfield Candy at the time, but was having difficulty with my health. An opportunity came to operate a Stake Farm down by Saratoga Springs west of Lehi. I operated the farm for about two years. Then the owner of the candy company, talked me into coming back to work for him. We moved to West Jordan out on 2700 West and 81st South. We had a home with three acres. While there our second son was born. Here we made one of our biggest mistakes. We felt like it was too far to drive to work, so we decided to move into town (Salt Lake). This was a mistake because the property in West Jordan has a subdivision on it now, but that's experience I guess. Well we moved to 18 West Oakland Ave. in the center of South Salt Lake. I soon started having health problems from working in the candy, so after several years fighting it I decided would have to give it up. So we went job hunting again. I tried another farm job. This time it was a 2300 acre ranch called the Hi-Ute, near Kimball Junction. We were there a year and a half and the owner died. His name was Otto Buehner. His brother Paul, who operated the cast stone company on Wilmington Ave. thought it best for me to come down there and work, because they didn't know what to do with the farm. So we moved back down to the Oakland Ave. home (we had rented it previously). I worked at the Buehner plant for quite a while but felt like I needed a better job. So I located a better paying job at Walker Monument. My duties at this job was installing headstones and monuments at cemeteries, locally and throughout the state, but there was one drawback with this job: it was seasonal. During the winter months I would have to take time off. After several years it proved that we weren't getting ahead, because of the winter months layoff, so I got on out at Eimac, an electronics plant.

While we were at Kimball Junction, we had to go to Park City to Church, and the boys had to go to Park City to School. I helped on the building of a new chapel while there. We had many rich experiences, and I got started in genealogy and was on genealogy committees. Our stake conferences were held in Kamas, Utah. The winter we were there it got to 35ç below zero at one occasion. The house was sitting near a plateau and the snow as high as the house. During the summer, I had a faith promoting experience. I was cleaning the irrigation ditches and doing some limited burning, keeping it well under control, when suddenly a whirlwind came upon me and scattered this fire into a stubble field about twenty feet away and those flames raced across that big field. I fought it until I was ready to collapse and I could see any minute that it would be burning up the hillside. I knelt down and asked for help and almost instantly the wind stopped and I was given added strength to quickly put out the flame. Also while I was on this ranch, I got electrocuted. We were having trouble getting the television signal where we were. There was a couple living in one of the homes on the ranch that they were renting. They bought a home up in Hoytsville. They had a special antenna, called a rhombic antenna. They could get a pretty good picture. They said we could try it while they were moving and if it worked for us we could get us one. It was a huge thing, about twelve feet long and eight feet wide shaped like a cross. They had it on a steel pipe anchored to a cedar post at the side of the house, the antenna reaching above the house. I had one of my nephews (David J...) helping me on the farm, and he was helping me take it down. We undid the guy wires and he held them out of the way while I began to let it down, when suddenly the most awful sensation went through me. I felt like I was going round and round and I could hear my nephew calling "Uncle Forrest, uncle Forrest". It knocked me out for a moment. I came to and then fell over again and my wife saw me fall and came running. The antenna was all crumpled up on the ground. It had come in contact with the power line which goes to Park City, which carries 7200 volts. We called the power company and they said it was classed as an electrocution. I had little pin-hole burns all over both hands, a big burn on my right forearm, but the main burn was just above my ankle bone. There was an area about two inches in diameter that was just cooked and charred. It had seared all the nerves, so there wasn't much pain to it. They rushed me to the hospital in Park City. The doctor put a dressing on it then wrapped it with one of these wrap around bandages, which covered my whole leg, and sent me home. We didn't get more than three or four miles out of town when I was in so much pain that I could not stand it any longer. I took the elastic bandage off and the pain stopped. Arvilla drove right on to Salt Lake and we went to see our family doctor at the Bryner Clinic. After he saw the burn, and we told him what the other doctor did, he said that was the worst thing to do with an electric burn. For six months I was treated for this, and at no time could I get any water on it. When taking a bath, I had to hang that foot out of the tub. After a few weeks, the doctor dug out all that burned dead flesh out of the wound. Then it began to heal. The new tissue would grow up in what they called granulation in little bumps all over the wound and it would come up above the surface of the skin. The doctor would take silver nitrate and burn the new tissue till it was below the surface of the skin. It would heal over a little and then the tissue would grow up again and they would have to repeat the process. He had to do that several times. Finally it closed over and all this time the nerves were growing back in the area. When ever I would have to stand of sit for any length of time it would just ache and throb till I could barely stand it, so I would have to get up and walk around. I also had trouble running the tractors on the farm. I had the same problem (aching, throbbing pain), so I built a rack on the side so I could prop my leg up so I could keep it elevated. It took a good six months before it was completely healed over, but after that the slightest bump would cause terrible pain. Every time I would get near electric power lines I would get that awful sensation. I was really blessed to recover from this experience, and I have always been grateful for these blessings.

While we were living at our home at Oakland Ave. they built the I-80 freeway. That was quite an experience. They worked those big pile drivers driving six or eight inch pipes down into the ground then pull them out and fill them with sand, then it would be tamped in tight. This was down for the main reason for controlling traffic vibrations in the surrounding area. We had a garden and access to a flowing well. I built a chicken coop, so we had our own eggs and meat. I also built a carport and a shop and a root cellar. I've always been handy with my hands, being able to tackle any job before me. I've never had to hire any one to fix plumbing, or electrical, or any repair work. It has always been easy to figure out problems that arise. We lived at Oakland Avenue for nine years. Our sons went to Madison Grade School and Central Junior High and Granite High School. When we first moved to Oakland Ave. we lived in the Burton Ward. This was located on the borders of the right of way for the new Interstate 80 highway, so we had to abandon the building and they made the new Burton Ward in the Southgate building, on 2700 South and Main Street. We were in the South Salt Lake Stake, and the Southgate Ward was in the Granite Park Stake, but we got along fine. We had many rich many rich experiences while living here. My wife and I took a Danish Genealogy class, to learn how to do research. I was able to grasp the understanding and to be able to read the old Gothic script, sufficient to do our Danish Research. I spent many hours in the research work.

We had a difficult problem about gaining ownership of our home and it was a blessing on how it turned out, because it was a real mess. The only way we could get our money out of it was to receive it on a trade with another house. We located a home in this manner on 2nd West at 3699 South. This was located in the Millcreek Stake. We lived in the Valley Center 1st Ward. It was located on Main Street just north of 3900 South. We had a half acre completely covered with Johnson grass and gopher mounds all over it, but through perseverance and lots of labor we got the ground so it would produce garden produce. I also built a chicken coop and a shop and in part of the shop I fixed it so I could raise some fryers. We were able to raise our own vegetables and chicken meat. We had water shares for irrigation, so with that much ground we had plenty of water. While we were there, 2nd West was changed to 3rd West and it was made a truck route and a busy street. Besides that, the D. and R. G. (Denver and Rio Grande) railroad tracks were about 300 feet west of 3rd west and the trains would come often. The Roper Yard was close and the engines would really be roaring in front of our house. My wife had a little "what-not" shelf in the corner of the living room and the little trinkets would vibrate off the edge. I was working at EiMac at the time and was working the night shift, so trying to sleep during the day time was really hard to do. While we lived here we remodeled our kitchen and built a root cellar and a storage room above it.

I did much genealogy research while living here. I searched out the Danish lines of my wife's line and got a lot accomplished.

In 1972 it became necessary to bring my wife's parents to live with us. They had been living in Oak City in Millard County and they needed personal care and it was difficult to care for them that far away. We took them into our home to give them better care, but it wasn't too long before we had to put her father in a rest home in Delta, and he died in September of 1972. We kept her mother with us, but she died in our home in the spring of 1973. It was real hard to have them leave us, because they were so dear. They are both buried in Oak City, Millard, Utah.

We could see that our stay couldn't last much longer at this location, because all the property around us was going commercial and it wouldn't be long before we would be crowded out. We listed the property for sale. We kept trying for about two years, then it finally came. In April of 1975 we sold the place and got a good price out of it. We then had to start again late in life to find a new place to live. Our son Lynn was in Japan on a mission at the time, but we were really impressed to come to Granger to look. The realtor that sold our place wanted to help us find a place. He had several places to show us. We liked each one, but the last one was more what we had been looking for, so we decided to take it. We sure felt like we were guided here. This is the best home we have ever owned, and we have been very happy here since. We've had such special leaders to guide us.

I have a strong testimony of the Gospel. I know that the Church is true, that God lives and that he hears our prayers and gives us the answers we need. I am truly thankful that I have been guided throughout my life, and have received such marvelous blessings, and such a precious companion, and two wonderful sons. I am also grateful that my health and strength is improving.

Recollections of Dad (letter written to Archie Earl from son Forrest, probably March 1964 during their mission to Florida)

I'm grateful for my Dad, for all the things he has taught us through out our lives, There are so many things which we have received that are priceless. Things we won't forget, in helping us to develop to maturity. As I get older I begin to appreciate all the protection and spiritual guidance we have received in trying to keep us to live the gospel, by attending our meetings and teaching us by example.

My mind wanders back to some of the things that have transpired while growing up. I think of the times I helped Dad drive cattle and sheep up on the range. And how we would visit the sheep camps and have our meals, such as sour dough bread and all that goes with it. I remember one late spring when we got up by cold springs that the wild flowers were all out in bloom. It was a most magnificent sight to see. There were all colors imagineable.

We would see some of the wild game to excite our pleasure.

The fishing trip up in U M when we got lost and Dad began to holler, and after lots of walking and yelling someone soon answered us and we got back safely. I think of the times working with the sheep, Dad teaching me how to shear a sheep, of tromping wool, and herding sheep. Learning how to do things on the farm, that has been a great help to me ever since. You see Dad I'm truly grateful for all these experiences that you have provided for me. We don't realize the value of experience while we are young.

We are thinking of you on your birthday, in a special way in trying to convey our special thanks for all the love you have shown us. And we give thanks to the Lord for providing you both with this special training as an emissary of truth in preaching the gospel to those who are searching for truth. May the Lord's choicest blessings be with you always,

I remain your loving son - Forrest

Forrest - My Thoughts, 22 Jan 1971

[I am] grateful for the inspiring thoughts that came in my mind this morning.

How many of us criticize our Bishop or his counselors?

How many of us have hatred for our neighbors?

Do we realize how sacred the voting is in the church? We are given our free agency to raise our right hand to the square. That is an authentic vote in the affirmative for the person involved.

How many of us criticize the decisions made on this individual, after we have voted for this person.

We should attend every meeting that we are assigned to, because in some meeting wisdom will be given out that is so important for us.

When a man is called to the office of Bishop, he is given the power of discernment, in other words he is given the inspiration to make the right choice, providing he is in tune with the right spirit.

Abraham Lincoln once said: He had been driven to his knees with such an overwhelming desire, that he had no where else to go.

I've had such a strong desire to help some one in their genealogical research, but I guess no one needs any help. I am really helping myself, though. With my persistence at the library, inspiring thoughts have come to me, both at home, at work, and at the library, to guide me in my search for the right choice pertaining to my direct line. This is one of the privileges that is given to us, if we are faithful, and persistent in our quest for help in guiding us to the right choice on our direct line for our ancestors.

Maybe you have problems. Have you exhausted all source material available? Have you tried to the best of your ability to find what you are looking for? The Lord won't give us anything we need without us putting forth a persistent effort. We are entitled to inspiration if we are worthy to receive it.

Now back to the evil influence in our midst. As long as we have hatred for our neighbors, we won't be entitled to have the spirit of the Lord. It's impossible to have both hate and love at the same time.

Do we have ill feelings towards our companion?

Do we have hatred for someone for the decision they have made?

If so, we have the seeds of apostasy sprouted in our soul and mind, and if we don't turn around and ask forgiveness to all that we have wronged, we will continue to apostatize.

We are going through trying times.

We are all being tested, or going to be tested.

If we can withstand the buffetings of Satan, this will be a great stride in our favor.

Satan is really in his glory in our ward.

He is in his glory when he sees people with such hatred and animosity that we have in our midst.

Just remember we have got to overcome the world. This world will pass away, the wicked will burn as stubble. We can be in this world, but we don't have to be of this world. How many of you are of this world?

You women for instance. Does your dress cover your body well? Like the Lord has counselled you to do or does it give the male members a desire of the flesh, to be carnally minded. Do you wear dresses that invite sexual suggestion?

Remember the leaders of the church has been constantly reminding us of these evils, that we are partaking of.

Satan is working with the clothing designers so that we can be constantly reminded of the flesh, and having wrong thoughts entering our minds.

Having your body fully clothed is much more beautiful.

The sheer blouses and the short, tight skirts are Satan inspired, and we should shun them like they were deadly poison. Because we are poisoning other people's minds by wearing them and leading us all down to hell.

Attend every meeting that we are assigned.

Diary entry, April 1, 1978

This morning at 5:25 I left for work at the Deseret Press to get the TV Guide out for Idaho. We got it completed at 2:00 P.M. and while returning home I listened to the Primary Children's chorus singing for the commencement of the afternoon session of general conference. It was such a joy to hear them sing. We enjoyed so much the conference session and the emphasis on keeping the commandments and committing ourselves to service to our fellow men. There were changes made where beginning in 1979 that there would only be two stake conferences each year. Lynn and I and Merrill Cruser went over to listen to General Priesthood Mtg. It was a very inspiring meeting. They had combined prospective elders of the Salt Lake Valley that could and would sing to render the music for the priesthood meeting. It was a real thrill to hear them. The speakers were Howard W. Hunter, who spoke on Pres. Kimball's life. Then Robert L. Simpson gave a fine sermon. Then one of the new members of the First Quorum of the Seventy, then Pres. Romney, Pres. Tanner and last Pres. Kimball.

Forrest's Hospitalization Journal, 1979-1980

Had an appointment with Dr. Athens Sept 27th 1979. Kept appointment, had long interview of medical history with Brad Rasmussen including exam. He is a student intern. Then several vials of blood were taken and many more interviews of case history. They admitted me to the hospital. I was put in a four bed ward. Then doctors after doctors came in and repeated asking me the same questions on my case history. I guess they couldn't read the other guys or gals notes, anyway I sure got tired of reviewing my past, but seems each one had to have his own separate interview.

Soon after I entered the hospital I had a severe chest pain in my left, which made it very difficult to breathe. The x-rays showed a lot of fluid gathering there. So they finally tapped it my going between the ribs on my back, the area between the ribs and the lungs, and found it to be blood. So they decided my lungs were bleeding, the walls of my lungs had thickened making it difficult to get oxygen into so I was put on oxygen, had to wear a mask 24 hours a day. They were also afraid that I might have a blood clot in my lung. So I was taken to a lab and they ran a probe in an artery in my right groin up through stomach into the heart and directed into the left lung then they introduced some iodine dye so my lungs could be x-rayed. They were only going to give me the dye once but they gave it three times, each time it caused a burning sensation in the lungs and groin and buttocks.

Next I went to the Radiology lab and there they thoroughly examined me, then put me on a lung scanner. I had to sit perfectly still for ten minutes or less in various positions, then the machine would record a series of pictures, All turned out to be negative.

They found that a lot of lymph nodes deep in my neck and arm pits and around the groin area. So they wanted to perform a biopsy and remove one in hopes it would give them the answer. So I was taken to the operating room. I thought they would never get through the preparation for the operation. They were just giving me a local, so I could hear all that was going on. They finally put a rectangle frame just above my head, then covered me all over with blue flannel sheets. This made it very warm underneath so a nurse kept cold towels on my forehead. After it seemed like ages they removed one and showed it me. Then Dr. Richards proceeded to ell the interns around him how to repair a hernia. Finally I asked the Dr. how he was coming up there. He said "don't mind my yacking, we're about through".

Well this didn't give them the answer they were looking for. So all the doctors came to see me and said

"we are baffled on your case, we've ruled out leukemia. Would you please tell us what you've got, we don't know." I had received several blood transfusions at the time and some platelets.

The next thing they wanted to try was a biopsy of the lung. Each time they wanted to perform these tests I had to sign a release. So I signed it once more, but I didn't know I was going to suffer so much pain. This time I was put to sleep. They made an incision right near the breast and went over under the left arm. When they opened it up they found all this blood and also blood in the sack around the heart, so they made a small window in the heart sack to drain the blood, then put a drain in my side below the incision to drain the lung cavity, then they took a small portion of the lung and closed the incision. I woke up in the intensive care unit. I was there for two days, but they couldn't find a bed for me, so I had to wait two more days before they finally found a bed. This was a semi private. I was only there a short time until I was in a private room again.

The lung biopsy provided the answer they had been searching for. I have a very rare form of leukemia. Up to this time I had been administered to and my name was put in all the local temples and so many wonderful friends and loved ones praying for me that I knew everything was going to be all right. I couldn't deny these sustaining blessings, also my many visits with my Heavenly Father made my faith stronger each day, and I prayed that the physicians would be guided in giving me the right treatment.