Steve,
I was born in the Utah Valley Hospital in Provo on April 10, 1955. It was Easter Sunday. My parents lived on Geneva Road in what is now Vineyard (it was Vineyard then, too, but just a ward, not a city or town). I wasn’t very old when our family moved to Lakeview (again on Geneva Road, but much further south).
Kindergarten through 4th grade I went to Union Elementary School. It was on Geneva Road north of Vineyard. It was a two-story building with the Gym/lunchroom in a separate building next door. There was only one class for each grade and the kindergarten teacher taught 1st grade in the morning and kindergarten in the afternoon. The principal was principal in the morning and taught fifth grade in the afternoon. There was another teacher for morning fifth grade who taught at another school in the afternoon. The secretary was also the librarian. We didn’t have separate teachers for P.E., or music or art, and we didn’t have computers.
Every year the PTA held a Halloween party. We had dinner (usually sloppy joes and chips and homemade root beer), lots of games, a costume parade and a spook alley. We only went trick or treating to a few neighbors. The PTA also held a flower show each fall. Every spring we had a dance festival. Each grade would learn one or two dances to perform for the rest of the school and the parents.
When I was in fourth grade we studied Utah history. In the spring we went on a field trip to Salt Lake. We rode the school bus to Salt Lake and then we got to ride the train back to Provo. During my fourth grade year, Union School was condemned. For fifth and sixth grade I went to Cherry Hill. It was really different. Three classes for each grade and a lot of new kids. Lots of my best friends went to different schools and I didn’t see them again until High School.
In junior high I went to Lincoln Junior High. Again, it was an old school with two levels. The shop classes (wood and metal) were in a different building. Lincoln Jr. High used to be Lincoln High School. My dad went to school there and I had one of the same English teachers that he had. There was only one high school in Orem (Orem High) so everybody went to high school there (except one boy that went to BYU High until 11th grade when it was closed). We had our high school graduation in the Marriott Center on BYU Campus. We were seated alphabetically and I actually sat by a girl that I didn’t know.
We lived where most people considered it country and not close by many friends. There was only one other girl my age that lived very close by and I didn’t play with her very often. There were a lot of boys that lived across the street and next door, so I played with them. We played football and basketball. My older brother Fred taught me how to play basketball quite well. We liked to ride our bikes but there was no sidewalk on our side of the road. We had to cross Geneva Road to ride our bikes. We couldn’t cross the road during what was called shift change. Geneva Road was built so workers at Geneva Steel plant had a way to get to work. They worked 3 different shifts and when one shift ended and another one started, there was a lot of traffic on the road.
We always had a garden, and lots of times we used my grandmother’s field or my dad’s uncle’s field. Many years we grew corn, green beans, and tomatoes to sell. We used the money to pay for family vacations. We went to Yellowstone, and to the Seattle World’s Fair (and lots of other places because we usually went on a vacation every summer).
Television was black and white. My favorite show was "Perry Mason" but I could only watch it on Friday nights because it came on after the 10 o’clock news. My mom watched it every night (Monday-Friday).
For a long time, we shared our telephone line with our neighbors across the street. It was called a party line. Sometimes when we picked up the phone to call some one, the neighbors were already using their phone and we had to wait until they were done. If we were talking to some one and the neighbors wanted to use the phone, we could hear them pick up their phone. Then we would hurry to finish our call so they could use the phone line.
Hope this is helpful and not too long.
Love,
Grandma Jeppesen

A letter Grandma Jeppesen wrote to Steve to help him with a cub scout project.

“We Really Got a Bang Out of that!” Boys and Their Cars

I have heard the story of my grandpa Wayne Taylor and some friends putting airplane fuel in their car. He said, “We really got a bang out of that!” I was remembering that and wondering what he meant by a bang. To get the scoop I talked to my Uncle Fred.

Wayne Taylor and Max Paulson (or Palfreyman) had acquired some airplane fuel. It is not remembered who the fuel belonged to before that, but it is certain that the owner of the fuel was ignorant of its leaving his possession. Geneva road was the regular drag for young people. The car went very fast for a short ways and with a loud backfire came to a stop at the corner of Geneva road and Provo Center Street. The engine of the car was shot, but it was a memorable event.

Fred remembers when he was a kid every one would drag race on Geneva road. Their family lived on Geneva road and he remembers hearing cars racing till late at night. He also remembers a tragic event related to a young man and his car. A local boy was driving with his girl friend in the car. He was distracted and driving very fast. He didn’t see the passing train at a crossing where there was no signal. The car smashed into the moving train, killed the boy instantly and critically injured the girl.

Fred remembers when he began to drive at the age of fourteen. He would milk cows for Donald Reece and Loyd Taylor when they were busy or out of town. He always drove himself there. Sometimes during the summer, after milking, he and Randy Taylor would drive out to Strawberry and fish until dark.

Because he began working when he was fourteen and saved some of his earnings he was able to buy his own car when he turned sixteen. It was a 1964 ford galaxy 500 with a 390 police interceptor engine. Gasoline was 25¢ a gallon and a tank of gas cost Fred about five dollars.

Fred went to college at Utah State University in Logan. Once he and his roommate let the dishes get away from them and they didn’t want to dig their way to the sink. They loaded the dishes into the back of one of their trucks and headed to the car wash where they sprayed them clean. I wondered if they had broken any of the dishes and Fred was certain they didn’t. The dishes were all plastic.

Uncle Roy

When I was a girl you could buy cute things for only 10¢. I bought a tie for my brother Roy in California. I think he came home for Christmas that year. Of course I didn't know that he didn't wear ties. Roy was an inventor. He invented a man that you put on your automobile. It would signal to other automobiles when and which direction you were going to turn. He was very clever.

Orvilla's words in a telephone conversation tonight.

Aunt Ethel

When I asked Grandma what Christmas was like when she was young she told me about Aunt Ethel. Ethel was one of Grandma’s older sisters. Like many of grandma’s older siblings Ethel worked at Startup’s candy factory. She started at 25¢ an hour. She was Santa Clause for Grandma and all of the neighbor kids. She made sure that no children went without. Ethel also prepared a big box of toys to send on the Heber Creeper to the cousins who lived in Heber. Grandma’s not sure how she did it on only 25¢ an hour, “She knew how to spend her money.”

Grandma said, “She was like my mother. My mother couldn’t get around as well. Mom was heavy and didn’t walk well, so Ethel was the one who took me shopping and things like that.”

Dear Steve, Love, Grandpa Chris

Steve,
I was born in 1949, don’t remember much about that. But I grew up on the Sandhill rd. My grandfather’s farm had 100 acres there. There were about 20 acres of fruit trees along where 1640 S and 1680 S are now, also east of 400 W and south of 1640 S. There where open fields along where 1600 S. is. We sometimes grew potatoes there. There was no interstate highway and our fields on the west of the Sandhill went from about 1500 S. (where Steven’s Henegar College is now) to about 1855 S. and from the Sandhill to the canal (west union) my dad also had ground between the railroad tracks.

When I was as little as 3, I would leave the house before anyone else was up and follow the work crews around the farm. It wasn’t a normal farm. My uncle Calie grew trees; evergreens, shade trees and many, many fruit trees. Utah valley used to be a big fruit growing area and most of the fruit trees were grown right there on the Sandhill rd. My dad grew potatoes, pop corn and grain. When I was your age I would milk the cow by hand before I went to school in the morning and change or move the water on the potatoes as soon as I got home from school. My dad did the water in the morning and sometimes I did it in the night with a flash light.

My dad had a potato chip factory and my jobs when I was your age were popping corn and printing labels. We had an old letter press and I printed labels for popcorn bags and big chip bags 1 ½ and 2 lbs. I sometimes ran the bagger but my sister, Marian, usually did that because she was so good at it and fast, but I would adjust the auto scale on it and run the sealer. When I was about your age I started helping my dad boil and clean the chip cooker. I liked that job because it was just me and my dad. One time we got a lot of water in some electrical boxes and things started blowing up all around my dad. At first I was scared, but then I remembered where to turn off the power so I ran and climbed up on the boiler and hit a great big fuse box that killed the power to the pump and stuff that was throwing sparks. My dad was really proud of me.

I went to Westmore School. The Sandhill was gravel then and we rode a bus, but in good weather I would walk home. I would walk south on main street with my friends to what is now hidden hollow drive. It was the Orem railroad tracks then. Then I’d go down the tracks to 1600 S. and then west on 1600 until it dead ended at a driveway but I went straight down the drive and it dead ended at my grand fathers farm. In the fourth grade, in the spring, we all went to the state capital. I saw the race car the Mormon Meteor (Check it out on u-tube). I had got a little camera for Christmas and had a little darkroom set up. When I went back to school the next day with my pictures, almost no one believed I did it my self. Oh I forgot in the fourth grade I had some roller skates (the kind that clamp to your shoes with a key) and I would skate on Main street on the way home. There wasn’t a side walk but the street was really new black top and there was a walk way painted on the west side.

My dad made most of the machinery for the Potato chip factory. When I was about 9, he didn’t have a truck big enough to haul the steel he needed so he took the international H tractor with a trailer behind to Mountain States Steel at 325 S Geneva Rd. I got to go and watch them sheer the steel to the right size. Some guy got up set because a kid was in the work area where things went “boom-bang” but my dad helped him to understand that Mountain States Steel was not the only place to buy steel. At the time that old tractor had a dead battery. It had a shaft that stuck out the front for a crank but no crank. My dad would start it with a pipe wrench. When I was older I could start it with a pipe wrench, but it was easier to fix the battery. Most of our neighbors thought we were rolling in the money because we had our own business but I don’t think my dad had the money for a tractor battery.

When is was about 8 the railroad replaced all of It’s ties. Some of the neighbor kids and my oldest brother, Jay, got a bunch of the old ties and made rafts out of them on the canal. We had a ball that summer with our own private navy on the west union canal. It seems like my parents decided that this was too dangerous an activity so I was given the privilege of delivering potato chips with my dad. This was so they would know where I was and what I was doing, but it was actually fun because I was with my dad in a grownup world.

It has been fun to think of this old stuff. I’ll need to do more later.
Love Grandpa Chris ;o)

Grandpa Jeppesen wrote this for Steve when Steve was working on a scout project.

Please share ideas for title

For several years John has been scanning and cataloging family photos. He is still working on it, but already has nearly eight gigs of info. Looking over his work made me want to share some of it on our family blog. When I started thinking about it I decided to start a new blog. I know it's a little ambitious but, I'd like to write some short, story like histories that focus on people and family stories to add to the blog. I'm hoping that others will share and that it'll be a really interesting place to learn about people and different times. The first little thing I've posted was an assignment for our elementary social studies methods class. I'd like to ask some of my class mates to add theirs too.

I'm not intirely satisfied with the title of the blogg and am hoping that you all will have some ideas, Please share.

Prowler

Mistopher Christopher Sunshine
Lives at home with us ----
He keeps things at a lively pace
(sometimes it’s scandalous)

Before we wake – he’s up at work
And into everything –
Brown shoes turn black;
The cookies gone –
Then he begins to sing.

His busy little hands begin
Their work at prep of dawn –
A trail of mischief thru the house
He leaves, then travels on.

Now into cupboards, shelves and drawers –Mothers Bobbie pins –
And Daddy’s tools a – a must!
The play room floor laid thick
And white with talcum powder dust.

Written by Orvilla in the 1950's when Chris was young.

Orvilla Mae Luke Jeppesen

Orvilla Mae Luke Jeppesen is approaching her ninetieth year. She doesn’t remember how old she is, “You know it changes every year!” but she knows she was born August 10, 1919. Many days her thoughts hover around her childhood and her parents.
Orvilla’s mother, Sarah Jane Howarth, was a little apple dumpling of a woman. She came only to Orvilla’s shoulders and was heavy set when she was young. Sarah Jane was married when she was fifteen. Orvilla remembers that when she would express surprise at this her mother would say, “Well it was either that or work in the fields for my Dad.” Sarah Jane would make dresses for Orvilla without a pattern. She would simply cut a front and a back in a T shape and stitch them together. Orvilla says, “That’s all she knew how to do.” Sarah Jane did genealogy for dozens of people in Provo and was never paid a cent. Orvilla remembers coming home from school to find the table strewn with papers which were filled with other people’s genealogy. Once Sarah Jane had sewn a quilt for a doctor’s wife in Provo. When the woman came to pick it up she asked, “How much do I owe you?” The woman was aghast when Sarah said the quilt would be thirty-five dollars. That was the only time Sarah was ever paid for any of the work she did for other people.
Orvilla’s father, Richard Osmer Luke was an actor. When company would come he would stand up and entertain them with one of his roles. Orvilla remembers many sayings he would recite to her. One of her favorites is The Wise Old Owl: “The wise old owl sat on an oak. The more he heard the less he spoke. The less he spoke the more he heard. Why can’t you be like that wise old bird?” Richard was also a mail carrier. It was his job to meet the train six times a day and carry the mail between the post office and the depot. The first train was at six in the morning and the last at six in the evening. They lived near the depot and Richard had time between trains to be at home or take Sarah to visit friends. The people they most often visited were dear friends that they grew up with in Heber, the Nickols. Richard had this job for seventeen years. Eventually, someone at the post office wanted his brother to have the job, so they bumped Richard off. After he lost the job at the post office he mostly did odd jobs.
Orvilla remembers that the depression was a sad time for people. There weren’t any jobs. It was difficult and she knew of people who were so discouraged they ended up divorcing. The depression hit some people very hard, but Orvilla’s family was fortunate that Richard was ambitious. They always had food on the table. Because they lived so close to the train depot, strangers would often beg at their house. Sarah never turned any one away. She was too nervous to invite strangers into the house, but she would make sandwiches for them to take with them.
When Orvilla was old enough to take piano lessons her dad would do yard work for the teacher and her family in exchange for lessons. When Orvilla finished high school she worked as an accompanist at Franklin Elementary school. She played for each of the classes’ music lessons and did office work. After she was married, she often played for church meetings and choirs. She also accompanied her husband, Rhodes Jeppesen. When she learned to type her instructor said her typing reminded him of Liberace.
All of Orvilla’s older siblings worked at Startup’s candy factory. Her sister Ethel would bring her the scraps from sample books of fancy papers that were used for making boxes and wrappers. These were precious. During the depression there was no money for fancy things like that. Orvilla would make paper chains and cut doilies from the pretty papers. Living in hard times when people had so little teaches you to think creatively and use everything you have.
I remember visiting Orvilla when I was a young girl. She is my grandma. She taught me how to cut snow flakes and make paper chains. Once when I visited, she had saved a stack of junk mail. She showed me how to cut the margins off, arrange the scraps neatly in a stack, and staple them to make a little note pad. The pad was just the right size to make a grocery shopping list on. Orvilla taught me that if you are creative you can make useful and beautiful things with what you already have. She doesn’t remember the time we made note pads out of junk mail, or how old she is now, but written here her great-grandchildren will know and remember.

This little history was created as an assignment for my elementary social studies methods class. Many of the words are Orvilla's. The top photo is Orvilla in 1923 at age 4. The bottom photos are Richard Osmer Luke and Sara Jane Howarth.

Another blog

I was inspired by my time at John's house. It started by my thinking of ideas for a couple of posts to our family blogg. Then it grew to the idea of a blog of rememberances. Just this moment I thought of inviting other family members to contribute. What do you think? So I'm still defining for myself what this blog is all about. I'm thinking memories, short histories and old photos.