Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 3

Remembrances of Carl James Cook

by his daugther, Janae

1909-1966

           The first memory I have of my dad was on my fourth birthday in 1949. during a real bad winter. Dad and the neighbors took the milk to town on a sleigh. When he came home that day he had a big red tricycle for me. As I remember, it was huge (maybe that's because I was so small).

           I remember many fishing trips when I was very small. We'd all get up early in the morning and it seemed 1ike we traveled forever. I can  remember that sometimes Grandma and Grandpa Cook and Milburn and Verla went with us. Dad always had time to help us fish when we were small. They were fun times. I remember going to Yellowstone Park and seeing all the sites.  

          I used to go with Dad to change the water. I can still see him leaning on his shovel talking with Uncle Abe and me getting teased about eating angle worms with sugar and cream on them.

          Dad broke his leg on April's Fools Day one year and I remember doing more of the farm work than usual. I helped him move siphon tubes. I'd do the bending and picking up and he’d give the instructions. The Ward helped him get his fields ready. I’11 never forget the site of a whole field full of tractors going round and round. 

          Once when I was small, the county had trimmed the trees under the power lines. Dad took his axe and went out to cut the pieces up smaller under Mom’s clothesline. The axe caught the line and fell down on his head. He had quite a cut on his forehead and passed out for a few minutes. I remember going to Milburn and Verla's house after that and Dad getting teased.

          I can see him in the yard working on a Ford tractor, sometimes with Milburn and Dean. I don’t remember ever hearing them argue over the farm work. I can also see him on the tractor digging potatoes as we picked them in the fall. He was a good farmer, a hard worker and I am sure he had the respect of those who worked for or with him.

          I vaguely remember Dad and Grandpa Cook arguing over politics. The only time I can remember Dad and Mom arguing was during income tax figuring time. They used to sit at the kitchen table and do the figuring then take it down to Bob McKay to finish it. Figuring income tax is enough to drive anyone to drink, so I think they did pretty good.

          I can still see us all sitting around the supper table eating what came out of the garden. Dad liked Mom's homemade bread and milk in a glass with radishes and sometimes onions. (Mom liked the onions too).

          I can remember a few times when Dad played the mouth organ and sang "Halleluiah I’m a bum." In the summer we used to go to the drive-in movies a lot. Mom would pack a lunch, sandwiches and boiled eggs, and we ate before and during the movie in our old red Plymouth. Oh! for some good movies these days.

          I faintly remember Dad's heart attack before Loralee was born. He was irrigating and didn't come back for a long time after Mom expected him.  I can't remember who or how he was found, only that he was sick and in the house for a long time. We lived in the old red house then.

Because of this experience, Mom spent many anxious times wondering where he was when he was late.

          I remember how proud he and Mom were when they bought the old piano for me. I was not particularly excited about it at the time, but what a blessing it has proved to be through the years.                When Dad was so sick after getting gored by the bull, Mom called  me (I was working at the site then) and asked me if I could come in and stay with him at the hospital. I wonder now if it was because he was so badly hurt and she wasn't sure he would make it. He never had his full health and strength after that happened.

 In the fall of 1958 as I came out of the high school to get on the bus, there was Dad motioning to me to come to him. I couldn't imagine what he was doing there, but he and mom had a brand new yellow 1959 Plymouth. We had to go pick up the other kids from school too.  He was pretty proud and couldn't wait to show it to us. A couple of nights later the whole family went to church and on the way home a cop stopped Dad. He hadn't dimmed his 1ights because the car was so new that he couldn't find the dimmer switch. The cop didn't give hima ticket, I guess he believed him.

After I worked at the site for a while, Dad and I went car hunting.  He wanted me to buy a bright red or flashy car of some sort. Being me, I couldn't picture myself driving such a car. We settled on a 1958 black and white Chevy. Dad took me to his bank and signed with me so I could get a loan to buy the car and later advised me when I needed some new tires.

I want to tell of an experience that, I had in 1982 on Father's Day.  I know it's not something that happens every day, but it was very real and Clinton agreed with me that it really happened. I remember how Wayne Ward, when asked to play a special number during Sacrament Meeting, 

would always play "Heart Tones", so beautifully. Dad loved the song and wanted me to learn to play it. So we went to Chesbros and bought the music. I never could play it as well as Wayne Ward, but I learned it.  On Father's Day in 1982 (this was during our rough time when we were having trouble with FHA and things looked pretty bad for us), I got up and for some reason had a desire to play that song. I had to hunt through my music in the closet for it. I sat down at the piano (all the kids were outside doing chores) and played it terribly, because I wasso out of practice. Then I played it again. I felt Dad's spirit there. His love was all around me and I knew everything would be alright. It was as if we had sat down and had a good long talk. I will never forgethow I felt at that time.

I can see him sitting in the Ward Clerk chair taking the minutes.

I was proud to see him there. I can remember President Wirkus saying at his funeral, that Carl would do anything for anybody, but talk in church. He may not have been a loud or outgoing person, but the
chapel and cultural hall were filled that day. To me, that says an awful lot. He was known and loved by many people. I always felt he loved me. He always provided for our needs the best he could and was
interested in what we were doing. I just know that he is proud of his grandchildren. I hope that through this history, we are writing that they can all I come to know and love him for what he was - an example

to them.

I know that though he isn't here with us he loves us and is interested in what we are doing and is concerned for us. Sometimes I miss my Dad. I think it would be wonderful to sit down and talk with him. I am looking forward to the time when maybe this will be possible again.

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