MORE memories July 21

From Kathy:

Hey Brad..I sent a reply with memories one of these things. It was pretty good, too. Wonder where it went. In response to Marilyn and my "irrigation ditches" at Easter, you couldnt dig that deep on those hills. I bet we ate more dirt and gypson on those cracked colored Easter eggs than Grandmas canaries ate gravel to digest their food. Did that make sense? Old well, what do you expect from an old person.

Another of my very favorite memories is of riding Rosie with Grandma up to the mountain. You kids that lived down there while growing up maybe don't know how lucky you were. We only got to go on Booby hole once as kids and once as grownups. Spend maybe two to three visits a year in Richfield. It's still in my blood just as if I was raised there. I should have born a generation earlier.

By the way, please change the spelling on my name.. It's KKKKKKKK
Kathy

Hey KKKK, Maybe I'm spelling it right and you have been wrong all these years. Please send a copy of your birth certificate and we will forward to the legal dept.

Yes, I suppose some of us were lucky. However those weren't my thoughts when I was 8 and grandma made me take a forced bath in a galvanized tub, in the middle of the kitchen at the cabin, while she poured hot water and scrubbed my scalp with some kind of wire brush. And we had just gotten there! Lost all my dignity and my hair which is hard on any kid that age.

Corleen:

I did get the bear picture! The thought of getting past that bear just to sleep in that inferno of a bedroom stays with me. We are fine, all have jobs. Life is good. You and yours?

• It's getting better (I hope.)

Steve writes:

It (the bear's demise) was sometime in September 1955. The date was cut off of the article but on the back was the Elsinore news which included a nice recap of Ward Cuff's funeral the Saturday before. I looked Ward up and he died on September 6, 1955. Marilyn and Kathy probably remember it since they were teenagers then.

• That seems like pretty solid research Steve! Close enough for me.

Did Grandpa or Grandma ever park in the driveway or was that reserved for guests? I remember playing in the Chrysler out by the garage when no one was looking and pushing the transmission buttons but I don't think I ever saw that car move. I do remember riding in Grandpa's International between him and my dad. It took about an hour to get to the farm since he drove about 10 miles an hour. I don't remember it bothering me much since they were both so laid back I just liked listening to them swear and talk. If Uncle Courtney was around it was even better.

• Steven, those were "colorful" words not swear words.

From Becky:

We should really all discuss another reunion in the next few years..any thoughts on this idea?

• Wonderful idea, Becky. Volunteers?

From Sunnie:

Thanks for the pictures. I have been on the computer since about 3:00 this afternoon looking at a lot of the pictures you have posted. I love them! I wish there were captions on some of the old ones. I don't know who a lot of them are. Do you know them all? I was really excited to see some of the old ones of our Great-Grandma. I'll have to see if I have any different ones than you do, and then I'll get them online. Thanks again for all the work you have gone to. I know it becomes addictive when you get going in it. I would love to read some of the histories if you have time to post links or download them.

Sunnie

I'll be putting some pictures that Patrick and I have scanned on a Picassa site so everybody can see them. And each of you can add pictures that you might have. Community sharing etc.

Here is the link: Anderson Cousins

****************

From Marilyn:

I just re-read the original memories from Brad and remembered the chicken coop. Seems to me that Uncle Tim had a live bobcat in that chicken coop at one time, minus the chickens of course! Don't know if the coop was chickenless (is that a word?) before the bobcat came but I'm sure it was when he left. Anyone else remember this or am I making it up?

I have no memory of such a cat... but what you describe fits with the family traditions.

This is a picture of great grandpa Parley with one of his pets. Note the early version of a muzzle. Keeping a few family critters around is just a time honored tradition in this family.

This from Sunnie:

WOW, I'm really glad I finally got this. It has made my day, and also brought a few tears to my eyes. Thanks so much for doing this. I'll think for a while and then add my 'two cents worth'. As for Kasey and Kenny's emails, I don't know Kenny's and Kasey lives in Antimony-the World Wide Web hasn't reached them yet--j/k. I'll look into finding both of theirs. I hope you'll continue to forward this to all of us as people add to it, because I'm sure the memories of others will spark memories in each of us. Thanks again for the memories. I'll get mine added to it.Love, Sunnie

Right after reading your email, I found the blog. Thanks so much for the research and writing you have done and shared. I had heard these stories from my mom and I'm so glad to see them written down so I can pass them on to my kids. Thanks again, they're all great.
Love, Sunnie

Thanks for joining in Sunnie. We look forward to some of your thoughts. I believe the likely reason for lack of internet bandwidth in Antimony is the party lines that everyone still has for telephone service. Everybody reads everybody else's email, and also knows where they have been browsing. And the whole town shares one big PayPal account. I can see why Kasey won't sign up!

Glenna writes:

I always love the temperature in the basement, cool in the summer, the fruit room smelled good but there were seriously weird things floating the bottles. There was a gramophone in Tim's old bedroom. HEY WHY ISN'T TIM IN ON THIS? I often slept in the upstairs bedroom. Once I couldn't take the heat so I went to the patio area and slept in a lawn chair. I'm sure there was divine intervention in the heat that night because I puked all over the patio. Nice to have a hose nearby to clean up the mess and go back to sleep. I remember Grandma asking me to sweep the kitchen floor when I was 10. I thought I did a perfect job since there wasn't a crumb left as long as you only looked straight down the middle. How was I to know you were supposed to sweep under things? Grandma blamed my mom for not teaching me how to clean. I loved to braid the fringe things on the couch. Remember when Grandma got the sprayer for the seltzer bottle? It was a little boy peeing. I was horrified. She thought the thing was hilarious. (Corleen has the same smile as Grandma when she is being mischievous). WHERE THE HECK IS RONNIE HAWLEY? WHY ISN'T HE IN ON THIS? I didn't like the walls with their coating of coal. Didn't know you couldn't just wipe a spot off without having to wipe the whole wall. Tommy and I were fascinated by the spring ditch. Grandma said nothing couldn't get in it (Tommy did anyway) because of the glass in the bottom. If so, why do I remember Uncle Courtney's car in it? It was hard coming from California, we always got sick, and mom said it was the water in Nevada. Wonder if anyone found my underpants buried in the vegetable garden? Too much information?

Whooo Glenna! Ooga ooga! Slow down and take a deep breath. I'll try and respond to a couple of things. The first is Tim vs. the internet. This is how it works. Charlie gets an email at home in Venice. He prints it out in large font. He then gets in his Ford pickup and drives on the canal road to Sigurd; pulls into Tim's driveway, being very careful not to run over the three legged dog (probably named Shep) and the chickens. He then knocks and opens the carport side door and hollers "Yo! you got mail!" The reply procedure is somewhat uncertain since it has never needed to happen.

Question 2. "Where the heck is Ronnie Hawley?" He's thinking and we might have something from him sometime. (Deena, please give him another poke).

• And finally as to the "too much information??" uhh... ummm... well...I'll have to get back to you on that.....

Greetings from Patrick:

Hi All,

I've attached some photos that may spark more memories. Peggy, I vaguely remember the Seven Dwarf dolls so I don't think you are dreaming. Brad, the Chihuahua's name was Taco not Chico or Tico or Paco (who was your proof reader anyway?) and not all other dogs were called Shep. I believe the one in the attached picture was called "Queenie".

I vividly remember the cactus plant on the north side of the yard. I remember it because I sat in it. Could it be that I had help from one of my siblings or even cousins???

I remember the garden, the vacant lot next to it and lighting off firecrackers in the red ant beds. I remember the haunted house just south of Grandma's.

I remember going to the dump with Grandma with Chad driving the car. What a cool Grandma to let a kid drive the car. I remember going on the mountain with Grandpa driving the old white jeep -- one hand on the suicide knob the other with a drink and cigarette. He was always the first to spot a deer. I remember his cowboy hats and rifleman rifle in the front closet.

I remember the attic that held an old coffee grinder, Newel's uniform, and other neat and sometimes scary stuff. Was there a windup phonograph in the upstairs bedroom?

I remember dogie lambs in the back yard, asparagus growing by the spring ditch, the intimidating coal furnace and mysterious fruit room.

I remember the altogether too frequent pull from the bottle in the brown paper bag followed by a chaser of water from a white Clorox bottle. Only sometimes, the Clorox bottle really did have Clorox, right Sunnie? And once, so I've heard, it had gasoline and Uncle Jack Hepner had to go a day without smoking after chasing his drink with a pull from the ubiquitous white bottle.

• Thx Pat. Is ubiquitous the name of a chaser or the drink???

From Brad to all:

I was just thinking of a backyard with a dark red stained horizontal slat fence. The fence boards were sort of woven in and out of the posts.

I remember a garage with dead flies piled high in each dirty window sill and the smell of oil and leather and bug killer in a pump spray can.

I remember helping Tim butcher chickens in the very back yard and watching in amazement as they ran around frantically without heads, blood spurting everywhere before they collapsed. Forty years of therapy and I’m still not over it!

And yes, I remember all of those red ant beds and stirring them up. And also digging holes and tunnels in the garden area with John until he hit me on the head with a hatchet and we had to go inside.

There was an awning on the front of the house with poles to swing around.

And yes, Uncle Courtney’s car was in the ditch as part of my self taught driving lesson at age 10 or so. The first step was taking it out of gear. I never go to the second step!

There was always so much to do at grandma’s house!

Brad

Memories- compiled July 16, 2010

Hey again Anderson Cousins,

Thanks for the comments and memories that have been shared thus far.

I have consolidated them and they are shown below in the order received. I have added a comment or two for clarification and hope no one takes any offense. It’s good to laugh at ourselves occasionally, or so I hear. Some comments were distributed to all but others were not.

I wanted to get this out to you before I leave to go hiking tomorrow. Yes… that’s right, hiking! Way up in the wilderness where there are bears (real ones not rugs). It should be fun and I have alerted Search and Rescue etc. I have three compasses, the best GPS available, a box of matches, and a dozen space blankets. Also my Cabella’s fly rod. But don’t worry… I’ll be fine. And if you don’t know the history, let’s not go there (as they say in some parts).

This will give you time to think of some more memories, maybe about people and relationships and happy times. Sometimes that is what it takes to get us through those times when we feel a little lost.

Here we Go:

From Peggy

Thanks so much for the memories. I don't remember much about grandpa's truck but the rest of those are pretty vivid. I remember the glass doors that closed the living room off from the rest of the house and grandpa's cigarette stand right next to his chair. The steps going downstairs were equally as steep as the ones going upstairs and there was certain death for anyone venturing down there. Do you remember the 7 dwarf dolls? I wonder whatever happened to them. I liked to walk up to the corner store and buy penny pieces. One time I took little Charlie with me. He looked at a girl standing in line, smiled at her and kicked her in the shin as hard as he could. How embarrassing! I had a thought after I emailed you. Wasn't the evil dog named Taco?

I don’t remember any 7 dwarfs but I remember the store and the candy. And I remember that cute little Charlie. I’m sure you are mistaken about that little angel kicking someone, he probably just tripped.

*************************************************************

Karen….

Brad, I think the Chihuahua's name was Taco not Chico. Chico is where you live!

Well, I just may have sent the wrong dog to purgatory. It was a huge effort just to spell Chihuahua and I maybe I got distracted. Just to make sure about this I am driving out to the city limits and checking the sign. If it says welcome to Taco then I am vindicated

Becky…

Oh what fun!! Some of your memories I had not thought about in years. Here are some of mine for the archives:

Thanks Becky. These are great.

-The kitchen cabinet door that went no where-just a piece of dry wall which had something written on it with paint

-Watching the drive-in movie from the upstairs bedroom window-the Anderson family private version of “Silent Movies”

-Dropping things through the mail slot on the front porch and retrieving the unauthorized items from the dining room cupboard. (Same game used on the laundry chute)

-Speaking of that dining room cupboard-it housed Grandma’s button bowl and a whole rack of poker chips and cards that were played with, stacked, dumped and counted by uncounted number of children.

-The white and blue Christmas tree. style="font-size:medium;">-Laying on the chaise lounge under that big apricot tree on the patio, pretending I was a Hollywood movie star.

-Sitting atop a pillow or two and driving the pink car to the farm to pick asparagus with Grandma.

-The old white Jeep with the Oga-Oga horn (how do you spell Oga anyway??)

-Helping Grandma in the garden, she would dig up a new potato, wipe off the dirt in her apron, a bit of peel would rub off, then we would eat it--dirt and all.

-the old piano chair that sat at the desk, we would spin on it for hours (and get in trouble for the same!!)

This was a great way to start the week, so many memories and so nice to take a few minutes to ponder them.

Becky you are in luck today! That was a 1947 Willys Jeep you remembered and John has it restored to pristine condition for anybody that wants a ride down memory lane. In fact, you could ride it in the upcoming Annabella parade if you want, and ooga all the way down Center Street. There is a picture of it above complete, with a restored Grandma:

Becky….

Karen, that is funny you said that—I just looked at that name over and over... then just determined that my old age was getting the best of me and I bought Brad’s version… LOL

Becky…don’t discount your old age just yet! And lets all forget about the dog’s name, ok?

More Becky….

Peggy-I don’t remember doing many things with Grandpa either, it must have been a girl thing in those days. I do vividly recall the ashtray and in fact I had it for years until it literally fell apart-I have the original glass ashtray that was in the metal stand, it is in my china closet.

Venturing downstairs brings up memories of being in grade school and sneaking to Tim’s room (later my Dad’s) and checking out the contents (getting in trouble by Grandma for doing so) and pondering how COOL it would be to be a teen ager.

Glenna

Got lots of memories, some I’ll share with you; but only one for now. My first memory of YOU is at the foot of those steep stairs, you treated my sister Corleen with a bite to her arm. You guys were only about a year old but I believe Charlie had a good teacher. It was TACO

Well Glenna….what can I say??

It’s hard to refute such an eyewitness account, but no doubt I was provoked… or hungry.

And yes… I messed up, and the dog’s name was TACO TACO TACO TACO TACO TACO TACO TACO!!!

Vicki…..

Hey Brad!

Great to read all the fun memories about Grandma and Grandpa's house. I must agree with Karen and Peggy tho--Taco was the name. You can skip the "romance" in Antimony story--no need to go there.

It’s great to hear from you Vickie! How’s the weather in Arizona?? It was 107 today here in Taco… or wherever I live. So now that the stupid dog’s name is fully resolved, how about just a few thoughts on that summer romance thing??? I’ll change the names and nobody will ever guess.

By the way, isn’t it funny everyone is focused on that cranky mutt? Probably because it indeed left a strong impression on many young minds and a few scars on some fingers. But nobody said anything about the bear article. Glutton for Mutton… Thug Now a Rug. What classic journalism!

By the way, how is your mother? Does she have anything to share? Hope you are well.

Joe….

Actually, I'd like to hear about the romance too.

Joe I think you are too young to hear about these things.

I know what you mean though. I’d like to hear it too, but you see, it didn’t actually happen, at least according to all the denials I keep getting. Be patient, maybe something will show up someday.

Be well, Brad

More Joe

And as far as Taco goes, I remember she could usually be found burrowed deep into an afghan on the couch in the family room. I also remember Uncle Hal taking great delight in grabbing hold of an edge of that afghan when Taco was in it and giving it a great rank, ala the 'old table cloth trick', launching Taco into a rolling arc across the room. No wonder she was cranky!

Joe, please don’t let the PETA people hear this.

Corleen…

Hey Brad, this is great. I didn't get the attachment, however. Can you resend it?
Here is the picture you didn’t get… Don’t blame me if you get nightmares!!!

Marilyn….

Hi everyone, I know I'm way behind reading these fun memories and I'm so old that no one else (well, maybe Kathy, she's old too) would remember what I do. One thing I do know, the dog's name was Taco and he gave Steve all kinds of runny noses and swollen eyes because he was allergic to him! I also remember riding up the canyon in the back of Grandpa's cattle truck at Easter time and digging little "ditches" in the dirt on the hill to roll our eggs down. Mom has pictures of both of these, I believe Ronnie and Glenna were the babies then. One of these Easter mornings we went to the farm and there was a brand new little foal; Tim named her "Easter". Whenever we went on the mountain, I rode behind Tim on his horse and Kathy always rode with Grandma on Rosie. I got pink eye from Tim one trip; not sure what Kathy got from Grandma!

Marilyn!! Those aren’t fuzzy memories! That was child labor! Those were irrigations ditches you were digging and they probably later caused serious erosion issues… and getting pink eye and Steve blaming the stupid dog for some allergies. Close your eyes and think happy, warm, thoughts. Didn’t you ever get to poach a deer with grandpa or catch water snakes in the meadow on Booby Hole? It really is nice to hear from you. Poke Kathy for us and get a memory out of her.More to come.

Anderson Cousins- in search of good memories.

Summer always meant some sort of vacation, usually to grandma and grandpas house in Richfield. Attached is a picture for you of one of those fine memories. It’s the history of the bearskin rug… It comes to us from Aunt Bobbie’s refrigerator door where Steven found it posted. Thanks for being vigilant Steve and bringing back all those repressed memories of childhood terror!

So… just to celebrate the wonderful world of thoughts and experiences long buried and mostly forgotten, I share with you my top ten list of great memories from grandma and grandpa’s house:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10. The spring ditch with all of those long strands of moss. What a great place to play!

9. The flour bin in the kitchen. It looked like any other cabinet door, but had hinges on the side and a bin of flour attached behind. There was also usually a bottle of Jim Beam tucked away in the flour (it kept the weevil out).

8. The steep stairs that went upstairs, with a turn at the bottom, a turn at the top, and a long straight section in the middle. And a little hole in the wall halfway up next to a stair. I’m sure it was a mouse-hole.

7. Probably the biggest, oldest, apricot tree in the world. When they were in season, it was heaven.

6. A chicken coop way in the back (the earlier years). And those chickens didn’t part with their eggs very easily.

5. Grandma’s “go to town” car. A Chrysler sedan with a push button automatic transmission… the wave of the future!

4. Grandpa’s green International Harvester pickup; with a bale of straw and a 55 gallon fuel drum in the back. The turn signal always blinked left, a 30-30 rested behind the seat, and to ride shotgun you had to compete with Shep the sheepdog. (And all sheepdogs were named Shep).

3. The dried lizard nailed to the wall. Was this an example of early, southwest, high-desert décor… or a graphic warning to any other reptile that dared enter?

2. A clothes chute that was a great for sending clothes to the basement washroom, but better for those of us kids who hardly ever got to ride any real carnival rides!

1. And the number one fine memory… A cranky Chihuahua dog that lurked beneath the blanket on the couch and did not tolerate young children. “Chico” was a fine little example of pure meanness and an unmistakable exception to the saying that “all dogs go to heaven”.

May everyone have a great summer and keep the memories safe.

The next installment will feature exclusives of the reunion in Antimony, the summer romance of Vicky & Marcus, and how the younger cousins learned the art of auto-asphyxiation.

Kindest regards and great memories,

Brad

Adventures of a DNA strand

My paternal DNA sailed across the Atlantic in 1868 on the packet ship Emerald Isle. It was actually contained in the biological structure of my Great Grandfather Thomas Ogden, but he had no knowledge of DNA strands or markers or even genetics in general. My genetic blueprint was just along for a free ride. But the trip, according to written records and journals, was miserable and deadly due to contaminated water, inadequate supplies, and a poorly disciplined crew. At one point when a crew member attacked a female passenger he was yanked away by the scruff of his shirt by a rather larger Scandinavian saint. The surrounding crew then rallied to their shipmate’s defense and tension between crew and passengers escalated to the level of a British soccer match. The leader of the saints pointed to the ships Captain and reminded him of prior agreements as well as rules of common decency. To make the point complete, he patiently explained that the Scandinavian men on board would have no problem sailing the vessel better than the existing crew. The not-so-subtle message was quickly understood and civility restored.

Of course my DNA strand heard none of this because it was hanging over the rail, green, and sick, and occasionally heaving up a few particles of genetic material into the ocean. To this day I am easily nauseated on any sea faring boat and it’s obvious that the source of this weakness was there on the Emerald Isle.

Last night I was working on family history stuff and fell into a history zone. I sat transfixed and desperately sought out some Anderson family history. For those that are unaware it’s like a new variety of sudoku. I love it!!

My brother Patrick seems to spend all of his time on research of the Ogden clan leaving the maternal side of our history for me to pull together. I like my Scandinavian roots and have bonded with some of these long deceased folks who seem to be urging me on. So back to last night… I was cyber sleuthing (i.e. stumbling around) in Nevada records trying to find out more about my great-grandfather Nephi’s brother, Peter Moses Anderson, who went to work in the cattle ranches somewhere near the Ruby Mountains about 1900. We don’t know but very little about him because it seems that he never came home. Well at least not that we know of. The sum total of the knowledge (in my books anyway) was a very brief two or three paragraph history. To say it was sketchy would be generous. So this was like CSI -Ely to find out anything at all.

About 1:30 am I hit pay dirt; more precious than gold as we say in northern California. There was not much about Moses Peter (or Peter Moses as the census sometimes shows) but his son, Frederick Anderson, turns out to be the key. And the scrolls would only open when I decided to pursue him as Fred Anderson instead of Frederick. Turns out that he left the ranch life as a young man, passed by the mines, and went on to college at the University of Nevada. He then caught a break and went on to Oxford England as a Rhodes Scholar where he studied medicine and then finished his Doctor of Medicine, Cum Laude, at Harvard Medical School. He returned to teach and also practice in Nevada and was instrumental in founding the University of Nevada medical school. He was active in politics and other endeavors and left his collection of papers and memorabilia, including oral histories to the School. His history fills in more about his parents etc. and there is much more to discover yet. The son was the key to the father.

So I sent the new information to the only other person I could find who had a posting about Moses Anderson, Greg McMurdie. I had just stumbled upon his very impressive family history web site called Leaves on a Tree. Greg seems to be a true researcher and scholar and by this afternoon had taken the puzzle much further. You can read about it here. I think McMurdie is the kind of friend/relative to stay close to, because he does it right and has the ability to document well and share his research. Thanks Greg.

Now.... I must sign off because tonight’s research adventure is about to begin….

It has been a few weeks since I promised the update on the hit series "Murder in Zion". It's coming along fine (if you happen to be worried) but I have been slowed somewhat by life. Take heart, those of you that wait patiently, my batteries are charging and the final touches are coming together in a way that will startle you. You can't rush creativity, but I sense something being posted this weekend.

I have a truly wonderful wife. She balances me in so many ways and I can't say enough good things about her. And talk about patience! We celebrated our 30 year anniversary last week and I love her more now than ever before. I can't wait until we celebrate our 60th!! (well...yes I can). She surprised me by buying me a plane ticket to Utah for a bit of R and R doing whatever I want. That was a notable act of unselfishness! I spent most of the time with my brother Patrick working on scanning slides and researching. He teaches me many things from simple keyboard shortcuts to patience with life. He also helped provide me (somewhat unwittingly) with material for my Stake Conference talk the following week. I can't wait for him to visit us in Chico someday.

The highlight of the trip was finding a journal of my Great grandfather Nephi Anderson. I have only seen 2 or three pictures of him in my life, so to actually see his handwriting and read his notes was an indescribable feeling. There are forty or so pages of notes, chronicling facts, figures, dates, and other stuff that a man of his situation would record. Nothing that I can see about his particular views, opinions, or (heaven forbid) feelings. But it is his record and I am delighted to have something from his hand.

The journal came to me through a new found "relative", Bruce Cowley of Orem, Utah. Bruce is married to my mother's cousin Karen (daughter of William "K" Anderson) and they have been great to provide information and insight that was completely new to me. Thank you Bruce and Karen.

Here is a picture of the six sons of Nephi and Violet Anderson. My grandfather is Floyd in the upper left hand corner. I was puzzled about why I knew so little about the other five families until I realized the social dynamic that was at work. These are men of Scandinavian descent who were raised on a farm and learned early how to work hard. Do any of these guys look like social butterflies?? My guess is that were all similar to my own grandfather who was restrained in his comments and social "chit chat" was an unknown trait. Yep, nope, and "recon' so", were vocab mainstays. When they reached adulthood they each went their ways and lived their lives. This picture was taken on one of the few occasions they got together for a family event. Probably if they had been blessed with a few sisters in the group it may have helped bind the generations with more closeness. I want to better connect with these families and fill some gaps in history with pictures and stories that the record may be more complete. Any help from anyone would be most appreciated.

Photo Album Mania

Here are several albums that might be interesting to the Courtney Ogden kids. There is one for Dad and another for Mom. I am also working on some for the kids starting with Karen and will post them here as they are completed. I would be delighted to add any others that you might have and want to share.

Renee Ogden

Courtney Ogden

Anderson Willeys Jeeps