Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 6

Remembrances of Carl James Cook

by his son, Rulon Jay
 
1909-1966

From my first recollection, I remember by father, Carl James Cook,  as the Ward Clerk. It seems like every Sunday was spent waiting for Dad to get out of meeting, but as a result, I got to explore all the little nooks and crannies of the church house. I remember one time while sitting up on the clerk's bench with Dad, I was rocking back and forth in my chair and tipped over with a loud bang - I was so embarrassed. I don't know what Dad thought, but I cried and hid my face for the rest of the meeting.

We had a good home 1ife, my father was a hardworking farmer, who loved the land. He also was very kind and compassionate to those in need as many times he helped a neighbor or a friend when in need or want. He also had a gentle knowing touch with animals - he liked them and they liked him.

I used to go with him to check out the sheep at night and to look for new lambs or marauding dogs. I remember how quickly these sheep- ki11ing dogs were dispatched with a well-placed shot from the old 30-30 Winchester. I used to ride on the back of the Ford Tractor when we fed the sheep hay and grain, the old bucks would bend down to feed and I would hop on their backs and they would then run very fast to the next pile of grain and stop suddenly, throwing me into the snow. Dad used to really laugh at that. One of my most favorite times was when we went fishing with Dad. We spent most of our fishing trip at places such as Medicine Lodge, Camas Creek and Birch Creek. Being the smallest, I usually followed along with Dad and remember one time when I hadn't caught a fish and dad asked me to hold his pole for him while he fixed my line. I caught a big brook trout, the biggest of the day - as I think back on it now, I know he caught the fish and handed me the pole - he was such a good father for a young boy.

I also remember when I got my first BB gun, he used to tell me that he would give me a Penny for every sparrow I shot  mainly because they ate so much of the grain intended for the livestock. I became quite a hunter of sparrows, starlings and other such nuisances.

In hindsight the thing I appreciate most about my father was that he believed in giving his kids responsibility. Even while I was young I remember being given the responsibility of gathering the eggs and feeding and watering the chickens, feeding the bum lambs their milk and helping straw the corrals. Being so young on the farm, I couldn't buck hay or load sacks of potatoes, but it seems like I always drove the tractors.

I was only eleven when my father died, as a matter of fact, he passed away on my birthday. Every time I have a birthday, I think of him and remember the good 'times. Although I was so young when he died, and I don't have a lot of memories, the ones I do have are very special.

My most precious memory that I remember each year on my birthday and at other times is that he loved me very much and I loved him; you never forget memories like that.

Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 5

Remembrances of Carl James Cook

by his daughter, Loralee

1909-1966

             My dad passed away when I was only fourteen. I have always felt cheated for not being able to have him around when I was a teenager. 

             In those few short fourteen years, I have so many memories, some sad, some funny, some scary, but for the most part, I remember so much happiness.

            The earliest thing I can remember about when I was little is that I loved the kittens and I used to pack them around and maul them to death, dad always told me I should go live with the kittens. I remember that once I was walking around with a kitten snuggled up to my chest and walking around the gate singing to it. All of a sudden, I felt something that I knew wasn't good. The kitten had pooped all over the front of my shirt. Dad came walking up to the house and even though he felt sorry for me, he had a hard time not laughing. I wish mom had felt sorry for me, but I suppose it was she who had to do the laundry.

              Rulan and I had chores to do each night. We would get involved in playing and forget to get the milk cans to the barn before the first cow was finished being milked. All of a sudden out of the air came a shrill voice, "Rulan and Loralee, you'd better get your butts over here."  Needless to say, after that we knew we'd better hurry.

One of my most favorite chores was moving the young chickens to the sheep shed. All the neighbors knew when it was chicken moving time at the Cooks because Loralee was screaming her head off; I think I was born with chickenphobia, to this day, I am still hysterically afraid of them. Dad and mom didn't feel sorry for me though, as I had to help anyway. I remember having stitches in my arm just around chicken moving time and I didn't have to help, I just sat around and grinned at the other kids. Dad always knew that I would be around when it came time to butcher the chickens, I hated them so much, it was a joy for me to see them gone.

              Some of my most favorite times was when Dad would water the lawn. This of course was my time to swim and wade in the ditch. He used to throw his shovel full of water and me and laugh when I screamed. All of us kids thought it was a big treat to ride with Dad in the maroon pickup, we didn't care where we went, we just wanted to go.

One of my funny memories is when I would hear mom yelling at Dad that his cows were out. Whenever they got out, they headed straight for her garden. I suppose to her it wasn't funny, but I think we all laughed at her.

              I remember Milburn Hix and Dean Gneiting coming to our house quite a bit, they thought the world of Dad. They were like brothers, I had never seen such close friends.

I remember on Sunday afternoon visiting Dad's sisters and their families and his brother and his family. I couldn't believe that I had that many cousins. It took quite a few Sundays to visit them all

Even though Dad was not musically inclined, I remember how much he loved it. He loved to hear Janae play the piano and although I was never as good as she, he would sit down and listen to me play also. I was in a girl’s choir in the church and he really liked our songs. He was the ward clerk at that time and he used to come into the chapel and pretend to be doing his clerk duties when really he was listening to us. I used to watch him out of the corner of my eye, watching us.

Dad was quite a teaser at times. One Christmas all I wanted was a new bike, I had been using Rick's and I wanted one of my own. When I got up that morning and ran to the Christmas tree, I had a few things under it, but no sign of a bike. I sat down on a chair and was almost in tears. He let me sit there for a minute or two then he said "Loralee would you get me a glass of water out of the kitchen?" Well thought, I might as well, I didn't have anything to play with. I turned the corner and went into the kitchen and there sat my new beautiful blue bike. I was so excited, I don't think Dad ever got his glass of water.     

I never minded doing anything for my Dad, I thought he was terrific. I so wish I had had him when I was in my teens, a girl needs her dad during those times. Mom was great and tried to fill his shoes and did a pretty great job.

           Fourteen short years, but boy what a great fourteen years with a dad I will never forget and will always remember for his gentleness, humor, values and most of all for all the love he gave to each one of us.

           In 1981 I was asked to submit a short story or poetry to a Stake Women's Talent Program. I thought and thought about what to write about and what to do. I was overwhelmed with feelings of paying a tribute to my father.  I spent a few emotional hours writing it and rewrote it about 20 times. My main problem was that it had to be short, so I hope I wrote a tribute that he would be proud of. My tribute I wrote to him is as follows:

                                                                      YES, I REMEMBER YOU

     As the saying goes, "You don't know a good thing until you lose it." The same cliché holds true for my favorite memory.

     After his passing, I would find myself lying awake at nights, softly crying, watching and feeling the warm tears being absorbed among my bed covers. Such a great man escaping from our earth, also from my heart.

     Before his death, life was such great fun, being near him, looking into his loving eyes, and feeling his warmth flow from his quiet face. Can one man possess such love and gratefulness for life? 

     I now so cleverly remember traipsing through the snow to feed the ever-so-precious livestock which he owned. I was a very little mite at the time; so I, thinking I was a big girl now, walked straight through the herd of sheep over to where my father was. I happened to walk past a large buck. The huge animal looked at me as though I would make a good butting post. I, being so little, thought he wanted to play house with me. As I moved closer, he did also, only moving quite a bit faster than I. Before I knew what had occurred, I was in my father's arms yelling my brains out. The buck noticing his prey had grown considerably, bowed out of his challenge. My father chased that buck around the barn several 

times, mostly to impress me, and boy, WAS I IMPRESSED. From then on my daddy was my number one love in all the world.

     As I grew older, I began doing things on my own, thinking I knew everything there was to know about life. As I found out later, my knowledge was very thin. A pre-teenager’s life may be hearts and flowers one day, and a total disaster the next. Whenever my world was falling apart, my father and mother was always on hand to smooth out the wrinkles. I can remember my big brother always picking on me and making sure I got into a lot of trouble. But, of course, he didn't fool my father,

who would stand up for me and make sure I learned to take care of myself against the foes of 1ife.

     After God felt it necessary to take him back and he left us when I was fourteen, I felt so empty. I watched my mother die inside from loneliness; I k e p t praying that he would appear to me in a dream and tell me that everything would be alright. Although I never saw him in my dreams, I always felt his presence beside me. He was still my number one love. 

     Now, so many years later, I have a family of my own and another number one love, my one biggest wish is for him to meet my husband, who is so much like him; see the way my daughter clings to her father as I did to mine; and meet my son, who I hope will acquire the same qualities and love for life as my father had.

     I could write a book about my many wonderful memories of my childhood and my father. But all I want to say now is that yes, I will remember you for all the love you shared with me and those who needed you. You had truly a sincere heart and I loved you so. Someday we will continue our special father- daughter relationship in a beautiful place and I can again be with my number one love.

-

                                           The story ended with this poem that is also on the front cover.

Death is not the total end

Only the physical part you lend.
He watches over me from above,
And continues to send his love.

The love he shares will be

A vast part of my memory,
Fathers like you are so few,
YES, I REMEMBER YOU ...

Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 4

Remembrances of Carl James Cook

by his son, Rick

1909-1966

The first recollection I have of my father, Carl James Cook, is of me watching him hitch up our two work horses, Pat and Bolly. I used to run behind when he would harrow the fields. I remember his big step to the little Ford tractor. I'm sure dad was proud and

a 1ittle scared about that major change in farming. But one thing I'm sure of was that Dad was the best farmer around. He would always raise the most bushels per acre or the most spuds per acre. I remember when we took our lambs to the auction, the buyers would always like dad's fat lambs and he would get the highest price.

Dad always loved horses, even though a tractor replaced them. I remember one day when he rode into the yard on a white horse. This horse (we named him Whitey), was quite spirited and had to be rebroke every time we wanted to ride him. One time I was bucked off and dad was so mad he got on Whitey and with a 2 x 4, he rebroke him. Of course, I still was bucked off several more times after that. Dad loved to ride and spent a lot of time riding in the Coltman Posse. They would perform at the 4th of July celebration each year.

I remember Dad as a very hard working man. We milked cows,

usually five or six, and raised sheep, usually around 75 to 100 ewes and two or three bucks. I remember one time Dad was feeding the sheep, packing a bale of hay into the corral when our old mean Suffolk buck butted him full speed right in the butt knocking dad flat on the ground. 

Now dad had a temper when he got hurt or something broke, this time

he was really mad, so the buck got called all kinds of names and dad found a steel post and knocked that poor sheep to his knees.

Dad taught me responsibility. I had a lot of chores to do and he expected me to do them right. I was always rewarded for my work as I had cows and sheep of my own and Dad paid for the feed. I usually had stock in the Future Farmers of America Fat Stock Show and Sale. Dad helped me a lot and was proud of my trophies and awards. One time I got my picture in the paper and dad was real proud of that.

Dad liked to go fishing and hunting. Because of the farm work and the cows, he never got to go as often as he would like, but I remember good times at Medicine Lodge and Birch Creek. We used to go up to a ranch in Medicine Lodge belonging to Clifton May. He would buy hay from Dad in the winter and Dad would feed his cattle on the Jefferson County place.

We needed a Holstein bull, so one day we went to see Bob Jephson about one. While we were there, we heard a fire engine screaming down the Lewisville Highway. I remember standing on top of Bob's potato cellar watching it go. We all wondered where the fire was. Anyway Dad bought the bull and we loaded him into the old 48 Ford pickup. That Bull didn't want to be there. Half way home he got his front feet on top of the cab of the pickup. His head was tied down between his legs.  We had a hard time getting him free and we had to stop several times on the way home. Just before we got home, we could see where the  fire truck had gone -- our barn. I guess Loralee and Janae were home and it scared them to death. This Bull turned out to be a big problem the whole time we had him. In the fall of 1965 he knocked dad down in the pasture and almost killed him.

Dad never quite recovered from his bull and haystack accidents, and he started having heart problems again, but was taking heart pills and getting along quite well when we started building our new spud cellar.  I remember how proud he was of his new cellar but never got to put a spud in it.

On September 21, 1966, on Rulan's birthday, he died of a heart

attack while standing in his new spud cellar. I remember the call, I received from Milburn Hix while attending Rick's College. He said Dad had a problem and that I had better get home. On the way home I knew my Dad had passed away. I loved my Dad very much. I admired and respected him a great deal. He taught me right from wrong and was very proud of all of us. 

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.

.

Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 2

Life Sketch of Carl James Cook

Zelda Irene (Hix) Cook

1909-1966

         On June 28, 1948, his first son was born and named Richard Carl, after having two daughters it made him proud to have a son.  

In late summer of 1951 Carl suffered a heart attack and was laid up for several months, but was able to drive tractor to dig potatoes  in the fall and that made him happy.

On May 23, 1952 another daughter, Loralee, joined the family and on September 21, 1955, another son, Rulan Jay, was born.

In about 1957 Carl was able to purchase 61 acres of ground across the road from his farm located in Jefferson County. The land all watered out of the same Burgess Canal and was purchased for $29,000. The Bonneville property was mortgaged to purchase the Jefferson County property. Farm crops were quite low and this property was much harder to make the payments on. The State of Idaho wanted to buy 25 acres for a gravel pit as they were building Interstate 1-15 and the acreage was sold to the state and the profit helped catch up on the mortgage payments and he also was able to buy a two-bedroom house from Max Brinton and moved it to a partial basement that the family was living in. The top two rooms adjacent to the basement had to be moved away. This house was fixed up and made a very comfortable home for his family. This was the first bathroom they had indoors, they had had hot and cold water before, but not an indoor bathroom.

On April Fool's Day in 1964, Carl and Rick were feeding cattle from a high hay stack on the Jefferson County property when he lost his balance and fell and broke his leg in two places. He was in the hospital for two weeks and laid up for the summer. It was spring time and his friends and neighbors pitched in and prepared the ground for 21 acres of potatoes, they did the job in some 3 1/2 hours. Earlier, another group of neighbors prepared and planted the grain. He was able to help care for the crops and to harvest them.

         On another occasion on September 13, 1965, he had an encounter with a mean bull that shoved him from one farm dike to the other breaking six ribs. The bull knocked him down and he remembered little else. Nevertheless, the bull was sold. He spent a week in the hospital this time.

         In 1956 Carl served as Deacon's Quorum advisor in the Co1tman Ward and in 1958 he was called as Assistant Ward Clerk and later served as Ward Clerk for eight years with Bishop Eldon L. Ward and Bishop Albert Rasmussen. He was released February 27, 1966. After the encounter with the bull, his health was never the same.

         Carl always had time to stop and visit with friends and neighbors. He was proud of his family and always tried to participate with them in their school and Church activities. He had the patience of Job with his children.

         Around the first of April 1966 Carl and Zelda took Clinton Perry and Janae (C1inton and Janae were later married in May) to Cardston, Canada. Clinton was to be the best man at a friend's wedding. Carl had just purchased his third new automobile, a 1966 Impala Chevrolet. Carl and Zelda sorta went along as chaperons but had an enjoyable time.
        He bought his first car in 1949, it was a Maroon colored Plymouth and the second car was a 1959 ye1low push button Plymouth.

        Carl saw his first daughter, Janae, marry Clinton Perry in the Idaho Falls Temple and was very proud of her.            

        On September 21, 1966, Rulan's eleventh birthday, the family had a birthday supper at home and Carl walked outside for a few minutes then came back into the house to see if Zelda needed the car, as it was left on the carport. She told him she had to pick up some other ladies and go to a Stake MIA Leadership meeting. He turned to her and said as he went out the back porch, “It sure is a beautiful evening out there,".

        He went to his new potato cellar that he had been building and where Rulan and Debra Jacobs, a neighbor friend, were playing. Rulan had received some new parts for his bicycle for his birthday and they were riding up and down the potato cellar. A few minutes later Debra came running in the house and told Loralee that something had happened to her Dad and Loralee and Zelda ran quickly to the cellar where Carl was slumped half way up against the west cellar wall. The kids ran to the neighbors for help, but Carl had died instantly of a massive heart attack.

           Carl was a hard worker and raised very good crops, he always grew a good crop of potatoes 

and was always trying to improve his farming operations. He arose bright and early every morning and worked until late in the evenings. In the summer he was always wearing his irrigating boots, keeping the soil just right was his constant worry. He was very fussy about getting them planted on time and harvesting at just the right time. 

        Carl was baptized in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints on August 3, 1918 at LaBelle, Idaho.

        He was ordained a Deacon on 2 May 1921 by Winfield Hurst at Shelley, Idaho. He was ordained a Teacher on 3 March 1924 by Edwin Allen at Ucon, Idaho. He was ordained a Priest on 4 April 1927 by Gottfried Stucki at Coltman, Idaho and was ordained an Elder on 15 October 1939 by N.C.A. Jorgensen at Roberts, Idaho.

        Carl's parents both preceded him in death. His father James Edward died on 20 October 1960 and his mother Christina Buchmiller Cook died on 23 December 1964. His brother Virgil died on 26 February 1939 and the thirteenth child in the family was stillborn on 10 September 1930.

             At the time of his death he was survived by his wife, Zelda and four children; Janae, Richard, L      Loralee and Rulan.            

                                               Brother and Sisters surviving were:

                                               Mrs. Agnes Levin, Roberts, Idaho
                                               Mrs. Edna Ririe, Ririe, Idaho
                                               Cleo Cook, Menan

                                               Mrs. Vendetta Wilson, Rigby, Idaho
                                               Mrs. Verla Hix, Coltman, Idaho

                                               Mrs. Lila Christensen, Lewisville, Idaho
                                               Mrs. Leora Fugal, Nampa, Idaho

                                               Mrs. Reva Maas, Terreton,Idaho

                                               Mrs. Melba Maas, Roberts, Idaho

                                               Mrs. Theola Simmons, Terreton, Idaho 

Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 1

Life Sketch of Carl James Cook

Zelda Irene (Hix) Cook

Carl James Cook

1909-1966

     Like Nephi of old; Carl James Cook was born of goodly parents. Carl was the first son and third child of a family of thirteen born to James Edward and Christina Magdalena Cook. He was born 16 January 1909 at LaBelle, Jefferson, Idaho. When he was six years of age the family moved to Taylorville and from there they moved on to Shelley, Woodville_t Ucon, Coltman, Grant and Roberts; all in Idaho. He went to school at Woodville and Coltman and graduated from the Coltman Grade  School under Mr. Wm. S. Brighton as Principal and Teacher. One amusing  experience he always enjoyed telling was when he was in the seventh grade on Apri1 Fool's Day, he, Ralph Taylor and Bi11 Severson went up  into the belfry at noontime and rang the old school bell and in doing so Ralph Taylor fell through the ceiling with one leg and naturally they were all caught and expelled, but they were able to get back in and he graduated at Coltman the next year.

     Carl always loved horses, he enjoyed riding them as well as working on the farm with them and after his marriage he belonged to a posse group in Coltman.

     Being the oldest boy of a large family necessitated his going to work at an early age to support himself and also help his family when it was possible. He worked for August Muehlfeit in a potato warehouse and worked at this occupation more years than he cared to remember. Healso spent some time herding sheep for his Uncle and also for Emmett and Wayne Dabe11.  

     Carl was thirty one years old when he married and always stated that he hadn't married sooner because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to make a living for a wife and family. On October 29_t 1940. Carl married Zelda Irene Hix in the Logan Temple. They traveled to Logan with Allen Lewis and Aileen Webster, Zelda’s cousin, and the two couples were married the same day. The first home they lived in was Zelda's Uncle Joe and Aunt Julia Ellis's one front room. The next spring they rented a two room home on the Robert Field's place at Grant. For the first three years of their marriage they moved about seven times andin 1943, they moved to Coltman, Idaho on the Lewisville Highway and rented a farm from William Frie. Del and Orville Smith helped him in getting started farming on his own. 

     On 29 December 1941, their first daughter, Sheryl Eda, was born to them. She was born with some birth defects and was taken to Salt Lake City for surgery when she was three weeks old. The surgery was to close a hare lip. This was something very unheard of by this couple, but she was a sweet lovable child and they loved and cared for her in the best way possible. In February 1943 they again had to take her back to Salt Lake for another operation on a cleft palate, but she died on the operating 

table on February 24, 1943. The Doctor's report stated that she died of an operative shock. Their 1ives were quite empty until Janae, another daughter was born to them on February 24, 1945. 

     Carl loved to hunt and fish and when time permitted, he and his family and other friends and their fami1ies would go out to Camas Meadows or Medicine Lodge and camp. He especially enjoyed hunting in the fall with a group of men. At one six-day hunt in the Little Lost River section near Howe, Idaho, they got their picture on the front page of the Rigby Star with their game hanging in the back- ground. There were eight men in the group, Milburn Hix, Orval Randall, Dean Gneiting, Bill and Ralph Jardine, Junius Taylor and Carl. They were all successful in bagging their deer, but had three more deer that they didn't dare have their picture taken with.

Rigby Star 6 Nov 1947

     Another time Carl, in company with Dean Gneiting and Milburn Hix went to the Salmon area and got in a little trouble with the law. They were spearing the Salmon and got caught. They came home and the families enjoyed eating the salmon until they found out that the men had been caught and fined $25.00 each. It later came out in the newspaper so they had to own up to it.

     In 1947 Carl had the opportunity to buy an 80 acre farm from Ray Neilson located on the Bonneville-Jefferson County line. Carl talked to William G. Miller of Grant about buying the property and Mr. Miller loaned Carl $14,000 at 4% interest to buy the farm. Mr. Miller had to loan him another $100.00 to pay to himself to make it legal. Carl was able to pay the Miller's back all the money he had borrowed in ten years, even though the contract had been set for repayment in fourteen years. 

To be continued