Walking milestone

 This last week I reached something of a milestone in my rehabilitation efforts, which now mostly center on walking.  I now have the energy and endurance to walk several miles every day, along the Spanish Fork River Trail or around our neighborhood.  Here is my record:
Monday Sept 21, 11,013 steps
Tuesday Sept 22, 10,038 steps
Wednesday Sept 23, 10,088 steps
Thursday Sept 24, 10,200 steps
Friday Sept 25, 10193 steps
Saturday Sept 26, 10, 137 steps
10,000 of my steps is about 4 miles or more.

Recognizing President Moz Burles

 

     Working on my personal history, I decided that I would have a section on persons who had important influences on my life, persons that helped me develop values and take positive steps.  Aside from my parents, and especially my mother, I think the most influential person was Moz Burles, the White Salmon Branch President when I was a teenager.  He encouraged me in so many ways, such as when I brought him a tithing check from my summer haying work two years before I was a church-member, having long discussions about the Church and its teachings,  bringing our family Church related books to read, helping me to get baptized, arranging of me to receive the Aaronic Priesthood, giving me priesthood assignments, helping me to be called on a mission, and so forth.  I wrote a three page description of the ways he helped me in my life.
    After I served my mission and was living in Utah, I had very little contact with President Burles.  I knew that he continued to serve in various ways in the white Salmon Branch/Ward and in the community.  At some point I learned that he had lost his wife and in his old age was being cared for by a sister who lived in West Jordan and that he had passed away.  As I was writing about him, I decided to look up his record in FamilySearch.  I found there a fairly sketchy record added by a niece or nephew, that really didn’t do justice to him for his contributions to me personally or his positive influence in the White Salmon community.  I looked for information about him in Ancestry.com and found a nice obituary record that had been published in the White Salmon Enterprise.  I learned that he was buried in, of all places, in the town cemetery in Charleston, Utah, a little community in Heber Valley, which lay along the highway from Provo Canyon just at the top of Deer Creek reservoir.  He was buried by his sister Bessie and her husband, Neil Winterton, in the Winterton family plot in his hometown.  Several weeks ago, Wendy and I were able to locate his grave in that cemetery so far from the people in Washington state that he served and influenced and even from his wife, Valore, who was buried in a cemetery near their home.
    I then added three items to the memories section for President Burles in FamilySearch, that I hope adds to his luster.  First, there was his obituary, second my 3 page tribute to his life, and third a picture of his grave marker in the Charleston Town cemetery: Mozart Choules Burles, KW8L-8H1, born in Provo, UT 11 August 1902, died 2 April 1983 in Salt Lake City, UT

Walking again on the River Trail

 

 

    As we do walking for exercise, Wendy and I have been retracing our steps from several years ago, as I have gained strength to walk longer distances.  We have gradually increased the distance we can walk, we have gone back to the Spanish Fork River Trail and especially love the walk that begins at what we hade heard called the tree road going east to the park over a mile and then back.
    The city has been upgrading the trail and has just completed some trails coming down into the bottoms and has built a parking lot with restroom and grass at the river at the tree road now which is now called Poplar Road.
    We have had two mornings when we have run into David and Katie as they have been out for a run.
    There were two places on this stretch that we were attracted to in earlier years:
1) The home of the Rock Chucks.  Here is a picture of the river bank reinforced with big boulders that used to be the home of colony of Rock Chucks or Yellow Bellied Marmots. We would stop and watch them pop their heads out of holes among these rocks.

Looking the other way (west), one morning we saw a Rock Chuck mama and her babies crossing the trail right in the spot ahead coming back from an expedition in a corn field just across to the north.

2) A Beaver colony.  There was a time when we discovered a bunch of little trees that appeared to have been gnawed off by beavers at about this spot.  We looked further and found a palce in the River itself where it appeared that these animals wert starting to build a dam.

Unhappily, it appears that persons responsible for the river and the trail could not tolerate the presence of these beautiful wild things, and must have trapped or destroyed them

Here’s something else we are noticing.  We see lots and lots of people on the new trail system, running, walking, bicycling.  I said to Wendy, “It must be that Latter-day Saints are aren’t exercising, because most all of the people we see are in shorts or sleeveless tops” Wendy said, “No, I think their just all dressed in exercise clothes.  Its the new practice.”  

Could that be?

Personal History XII - Post High School Education

Post High School Education

    As I neared the end of my high school time, I experienced several influences pushing me to go to college.  This was not the particular norm for graduates of Glenwood High School, but this was what my mother had done, for one year, and some of her siblings, and also my grandfather Davenport.  I was conscious of my future from such things as when I was a little boy, after I was in bed, my dad would come into my bedroom to talk.  He asked me questions, such as, what color or what kind of car would I drive, or what did I want to be when I grew up.
    Also, I was aware that there was a savings bond that my parents had purchased that was to go for my education.  The fact that it was only for $25 did not seem to matter.  It represented something about their goal or expectation for me or my destiny.  I heard them say that getting an education would enable me to do better and greater things than would be possible if I stayed in Glenwood valley, that education would be the key to better life.
    My high school teachers also seemed to expect that I attend college.  I was the valedictorian of my senior class which would automatically entitle me to a scholarship at Washington State University at Pullman.  My friend Ron McNutt was being encouraged by his parents, and me along with him, to apply to one of two Presbyterian colleges in the area, Whitman College, in Walla Walla, or Lewis and Clark College, in Portland.  Some suggested that I  consider Reed College which was also in Portland, which had a reputation for high level scholarship.
    During the spring of our high school senior year (1954) Ron and I drove down to Portland to visit Lewis and Clark.  We were hosted by one of the student body officers, who attempted to sell us on his school, and also, interestingly, testified to us about the importance of living high moral standards.  We stayed overnight in the mens dorm, and were treated helpfully another young man.  Oddly, I met him again when I enrolled at BYU in 1955.  In the meantime, he had been baptized a member of the Church and changed colleges.
    I do not recall how far along I had gotten in the application processes of any of these schools by the time of my high school graduation.  I think at least I had the Washington State acceptance in hand.  I have described elsewhere in more detail the happenings the week after graduation, that were able to fulfill my dreams of being baptized and then experiencing a strong impression to attend BYU.  Along with that, I made the strategic decision to work for a year, to save money and to allow my age group to catch up with me.  I got some flack from some of my high school teachers over this decision.  One said, “Then you will never go to college.”
    This choice was unusual, I suppose, but the added year’s maturation before leaving home probably was helpful and enabled me to adjust successfully to living away from home.
    As I began college, one of the challenges I had was in trying to select a direction for my classwork.  I had had so very little experience with college educated professionals, and ws so naive about what they did in tier work.  This was troublesome to me, not only in trying to envision a major as I started college but also when I was well along in graduate school.  Growing up in Glenwood, our family had a medical doctor and a dentist, both in White Salmon, that I had visited on an occasion or two.  Otherwise, the only other professionals I had ever seen in action were school teachers.
    At the very first, I thought that perhaps I should point toward engineering or something having to do with the sciences.  The first quarter I took a basic chemistry class and a beginning math class.  I could do the work but it turned out that these were the least interesting classes in my schedule, and so I veered in another direction.  I enjoyed my vocal music experience that year, but my mind told me that music would not provide a good career if I wanted to be a father and raise a family.  Physical education classes were fun.  I toyed with the idea of becoming a teacher and a coach, and the following year enrolled in PE skills classes each term for majors in that field.
    Finally the idea came more strongly that I should major in something where I could be of service and help people, and I made a commitment to the field of psychology.  Perhaps these feelings were parallel to the interest I had developed at about the same time to serve a mission.
    While serving as a missionary, that position seemed to me to be reinforced by a woman who invited my companion and me into her home.  She asked my what my college major would be when I was released for the mission, and when I replied “Psychology,” she launched into discourse of approval saying how important it is to get Christians into that field.
    Back from the mission in the fall of 1959, I got seriously into classwork in psychology with a minor in sociology.  One thing I discovered about both of these fields was that they were not much directly about helping people.  Rather they were both about establishing a scientific basis for study of mental and social things.  They were both about research and emphasized acquiring and applying the tools of the physical sciences in these studies.  In the years that followed I remained a little conflicted over this and sometimes wished that there was more in these studies about practical application for helping people. 
    I finished a Bachelors degree in May of 1961 in psychology, still a little uncertain about what to do next.  I went home to Glenwood for the summer and worked with my dad doing carpentry things at Les Lloyd’s dude ranch.  Our country was sort of between wars at this time but was still drafting soldiers and we were drifting toward more involvement in Vietnam.  I was classified 1-A in the draft.  I toyed with the idea of volunteering for the Air Force and went so far as to go down to Portland get some testing to see what I might be offered in the military.
    Then I got a call from someone in the BYU Psychology Department.  They were upgrading their Master’s program starting in the Fall, and were looking for some more students.  Would I be interested?  I decided to return to the Y.  I also was offered an internship, which would help with the costs of school.
    The internship involved helping staff the Department’s statistical lab.  It was a small room with a bunch of machines that would run basic statistical procedures.  This was pre-computer technology.  I spent several hours a week helping undergraduate psychology majors to crank on these old machines and complete their assignments from their basic statistics course.
    Generally I found the classes in psychology interesting and moderately challenging.  I still recall some research on the binding together of social groups, that cohesiveness of groups is best established in small intimate groups.  Therefore, to bind people to a larger group, let’s say a ward, it works best to build relationships between persons in small subgroups.  In my experience men and women who have had the chance to serve in presidencies and form close relationship there, seem to feel more closer to the ward.  In our Taylorsville Gardens wards we worked hard at creating small social groups for the adults, such as 4-couple dinner groups that met monthly then were rotated, and small temple sealing groups, to attach family heads more closely to our ward.
    The last part of the work toward the master’s degree was a thesis, a small independent research effort.  I worked closely with two young professors, Kay Smith and Daryl Pererson on this project.  Dr. Smith suggested a study which followed along on his own dissertation about how people naively judge or perceive each other.  The statistics to do this were pretty advanced and complex, and acquainted me with a procedure called factor analysis.  This was a statistical way to simplify or find common underlying dimensions in what looks on the surface to be a very complex situation.  In the process, the researcher gets measures on a variable or set of variables, then does the factor analysis to identify the underlying simpler dimensionality, then finally correlates these factors with other measure to try to define what these dimensions are measuring.  It is sort of like working a puzzle, where the answers gradually become evident, or maybe processing a photograph and seeing the picture gradually emerge on the photo paper while it is still in the chemical tray.  I liked this procedure for research a lot and used it several times over the course of my working career.
    In this case it was harder, however, because I was doing this before computerized statistical programs were readily available.  We first obtained a step by step logical description of the process written by a professor at one of the big California universities.  The BYU computer center assigned a graduate student to me to write the program so that I could analyze my data.  His first try did not work.  To make it work, he and I sat down and talked through in detail what he had programmed, while I followed along on the logical description.  Finally we identified where he had missed the point, and the program worked for my data.  In the Thesis Appendix, I included a two page write-up of his program, “Fortransit source program for factor analysis, centroid method without re-estimation of communalities.”  Shortly after this time, computerized statistical packages appeared that made the statistical analysis of research data much more accessible and convenient.
    Here are summary and conclusions of this study, “The Dimensions of Interpersonal Perception: a Multidimensional Scaling Approach”:
    The purpose of this study was to investigate and identify the dimensions of perception in two on-going groups.  The procedure used was the multidimensional scaling method of equal-appearing intervals.  This method was selected because it enables the investigator to arrive at the dimensionality without making any a priori judgments about the nature of the dimensions.  This particularly an advantage in the study of an area such as interpersonal perception when little research has been done previously.
    The subjects were the students in the Master of Business Administration program at Brigham Young University during the school year 1962-63.  The first year group (group I) of 16 students and the second year group (group II) of 13 students were analyzed separately in order to obtain some indication of the stability of the obtained dimensions.
    Each subject made a general judgment of relative similarity of difference between every possible pair of members of his group on an eight point scale. An approximation to a ratio scale was obtained by adding a constant to all of the average distances.
Scalar products between points referred to an origin at the centroid of all the points were computed from the absolute distances.  The scalar products were factor analyzed by the centroid method.  Three factors were judged to be significant for each group and were rotated orthogonally to simple structure.  These factors represented the major dimensions upon which the subjects perceived the members of their group.  Identification of the factors was accomplished by correlating them with measures of a number of personality variables.  These included ratings by' the students and their professors, information from student files and scores on the Guilford-Zimmerman Temperament Survey.
A comparison of the factors seems to show that the perceptual dimensions for the two groups are somewhat similar.  Factor I for both groups related to individual competency.  The basis for their judgments seemed to differ, however.  The Group I judgments seemed related to perceived competency while Group II were able to judge from demonstrated competency.  Also for Group II there was an emphasis on effective social relationships.
The second factor tor both groups related to social orientation and group maintenance as opposed to aggressive self-interest.
There were no significant correlations with Factor III for Group II.  Factor III for Group I was very tentatively thought to relate to social interest and self understanding.
These factors seemed to be related to dimensions of perception found by Burke & Bennis (1961) using the Group Semantic Differential scale and to perceptual dimensions of personality obtained by Jackson, Messick, & Solley (1957) using multidimensional scaling procedures.  They also are similar to dimensions of behavior in groups which investigator using other methodologies have revealed.
    In summary, the applicability of multidimensional scaling procedures to the investigation of the dimensions of perception of a group was again demonstrated.  The perceptions were found to be ordered in a limited dimensionality and to be relatively stable across two groups.  The dimensions were found to be consistent with the findings from the limited amount of research that has been done in the area of interpersonal perception and also to correspond to observed dimensions in groups. (From Robert E. Lewis master’s thesis, Chapter VI, “Summary and Conclusions,” The Dimensions of Interpersonal Perception: a Multidimensional Scaling Approach, Brigham Young University, July 1963)
    As I was finishing this study, I was dating seriously and then engaged to JoAnn.  I was grateful to her for typing my psychology master’s thesis.  I remember driving over to Spanish several times with edited drafts in hand and picking up improved versions.
    As I was completing the work for the master’s degree, I still did not have a very good vision of what should come next education and career wise.  Midway through the program I took a national standard exam in psychology, called the Graduate Record Examination (GRE), which was a number of sometimes used to a evaluate candidates for graduate work in psychology and other fields.  This made me the focus of additional attention by faculty members, because I scored in the top one or two percentiles.  Faculty persons seemed sure that I should go some somewhere else to work on a Ph.D.  Kay Smith, my thesis advisor, suggested a program in industrial psychology, where I might find practical applications in my work.  I applied to three places for doctoral work and was accepted in all three, and finally decided on a program at Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan.
    JoAnn and I got married on September 5th, of that very year (1963) and honeymooned our way across country to Detroit.  Quickly we were expecting our first baby.  Marriage and impending fatherhood amplified and mad more real my concerns about education and career choices.  It became apparent to me that I would not have a very happy wife living far away from Utah.  I also reflected on a line in my patriarchal blessing, “I bless you with the blessings of the everlasting hills, homes and habitations to live in.”  I asked myself the questions, “Where are the jobs for industrial psychologists?  Am I educating myself right out of being able to live where I and my family need to be and will be the happiest?”
    The answer was clear.  So I made the choice to leave that doctoral program at Wayne State after the end of the quarter and for us to return to live in Utah.
    Still focusing career and education, when we returned to Spanish Fork, I weighed more deeply my interests, and of course began to be more serious and to try to be more realistic about my expectations.  To keep us in some income I sold Watkins products door to door in Payson.  We found an apartment to rent in Fred Jex’s basement, in the Spanish Fork 1st ward, and Reed Hughes owner of Hughes Dairy, who was in this ward, had me run an early morning milk route in portions of Spanish Fork for a short time.  I explored the possibility of teaching seminary, took a BYU class and student-taught in the Spanish Fork High School Seminary in the class of Robert Foster.  But I didn’t get a job offer. 
    I haunted Job Service looking for something that my psychology background would qualify me to do.  There were openings with the state of Utah, for juvenile corrections workers but especially for welfare workers.  I took some tests, was qualified, and offered jobs all in the same week in the Ogden and Salt Lake offices, but took a position in Provo offered by the old Utah County Welfare Department head, Bessie Meiling.  I started employment for the State, June 1, 1964.
    I began work as a family (AFDC) welfare caseworker with a limited size caseload that was supposed to allow for intensive work these clients, with objectives to improve family and parental functioning and their potential for financial independence.  I thought that the work was useful and satisfying.  I also quickly noticed that persons needed a Masters of Social Work degree to advance in the organization.  Along with that, the Department was offering a generous stipend program to employees to go back to school and earn their MSW that was a part of President Johnson’s war on poverty. 
    There were a limited number of these new stipends each year, six I believe, which paid full tuition plus three-fourth salary during the two school years that the program required to achieve this advanced degree.  Liking my employment by the state agency, JoAnn and I decided after a year and a half, that I should try for this stipend.  I applied and was accepted into the MSW program at the University of Utah, but did not get the stipend for 1966.  I got a nice promotion, however, to administer a program at the welfare-related at the Geriatric Unit of the Utah State Hospital, to place stable elderly patients in nursing home.  I postponed my matriculation to the program at the U of U, and then was awarded the stipend to start work on my MSW in the fall of 1967. We were living in Orem at this time, and I commuted (car pooled) to the U campus with another student.  Classes in the program were two or three days a week.  The other days were spent at field placements (internships).  Mine were in Utah County, at the Utah State Training School in American Fork, and at the Jefferson School in Springville.
    I found the classes in social work relevant and interesting.  The three years I had worked in the field helped me to ask the right questions and gave me meaningful insights.  I even found enjoyment in being in the social work section of the U of U library, and randomly pulling out and reading from books on the field.  I also began to discover a strength that I had in comparison to most other social work students, and one that they generally didn’t even want to have–I could relate to quantitative things. 
    Requirements in the MSW program included a group thesis, and toward the end of the second year, somehow I was involved in a group of ten persons.  We met together and struggled for consensus, finally agreeing on a direction, with some difficulty developed an interview strategy, and finally reached to point where we needed to write up our findings.  I expressed some of my frustrations and also concerns to another member of the group, Evan Jones–deadlines for finishing the project were fast approaching.  Like me, Evan was from the our Department and was trying to upgrade his ability to complete for promotions.   He had been serving as director of our agency’s personnel office and was a younger brother of Dan Jones, the Utah pollster.  Evan had the same concerns, so we agreed to meet and strategize about finishing the thesis write-up.  We decided that it would be impossible for the writing to be done as a group project involving the other members of our group, so the two of just assigned ourselves to write up the results, and in about a week the thesis text was nearly complete.  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and graduated on schedule.
    Here is a summary of our study, “Runaway Youth in Salt Lake County: a Study of Their Use of Social Service Agencies and Community Planning Related to Their Problems”:
    The purposes of this study were: (1) to examine a select sample of "runaways" at the Salt Lake County Detention Center in relation to various personal characteristics, their reasons for running away, and their knowledge and utilization of social services; (2) to review the kinds of social services available to youth in Salt Lake County, the agency executives' knowledge of the "runaway" problem and their participation in planning for youth services; (3) to determine the extent to which Salt Lake County social planning executives knew of the "runaway" problem and their involvement in planning for youth services which may be related to the problems of "runaways."
    Three interrelated but separate samples were selected in order to study the research questions.  The first sample consisted of 80 “runaways” to the Detention Center.  The second sample consisted of 27 social service agencies in Salt Lake County to which the “runaways” could have access.  The third sample in this study consisted of six planning organizations which were considered to be the planning structure tor youth-oriented social services in Salt Lake County. 
There were nearly twice as many females as males in the study sample.  The Spanish-American ethnic group was more prevalent than in the total public school population of Salt Lake County.  A large majority of the sample attending school considered themselves either failing or doing poorly in school.  Almost half of the “runaways” were 1iving with both natural parents, 60 percent of the “runaways” in this study had been admitted to the Detention Center prior to their present confinement.
    Running away was found to be symptomatic of personal-familial problems which the “runaway” bad been experiencing for six months or longer.  In three out of every four “runs” the primary cause for running was “trouble at home.”
    A large majority of the selected agencies in Salt Lake County at the time of this study were not known to the “runaways” in the sample.  Approximately two-thirds of the agencies known to the “runaways” had never been visited.  Among the visited agencies only nine percent of the “runaways” went voluntarily to seek help with their problems.  In 55 percent of the cases the youth in the study sample learned of agencies either from friends or from personal experience.  Law enforcement, detention, probation and recreation services accounted for the majority of visits to social service agencies.  Two of every three youth who had visited agencies indicated that in their judgment they had not been helped in resolving their problems.
    Three out of four of the selected social service agencies offered various kinds of counseling services.  Eligibility requirements, fee scales, required parental permission, waiting lists, round-the-clock services, and/or public information programs had no relationship in this study to either knowledge or utilization of the services by the “runaway.”  A large majority of the agency directors were unable to accurately estimate the number of “runaways” in Salt Lake County.
    The executives of the planning agencies of Salt Lake County had a rather sophisticated knowledge of the “runaway” problem.  Only one of the six planning structure organizations was developing a specific direct service program for “runaways.”  However, all were participating 1n the planning of youth services.  These executives indicated that a major obstacle to effective delivery of services to youth in Salt Lake County was a lack of coordination and cooperative planning.
(Abstract for Master’s Thesis, by Lawrence S. Bradshaw, Kenneth R. Dubois, Sandra M Hoogland, Even E. Jones, Jr., Otto F. Jones, Ronald B. Kelly, Leslie Ann Laymon, Robert E. Lewis, Arthur H Lisne, and Vernon R. Morgan, “Runaway Youth in Salt Lake County: a Study of Their Use of Social Service Agencies and Community Planning Related to Their Problems,” University of Utah, June 1969) 
    As an aside, the relationship I formed with Evan Jones led to some promotions and also some nice opportunities for professional growth and contributions.  In June, I went back to a caseload in the Utah County office, but by the end of the summer, Evan had been appointed as director of a demonstration project on staff utilization, and came calling wanting me to join the project.  Within the next year, he was appointed director of our Agency and I replaced him as director of the Manpower Project.  When that project finished its work, he invited me to serve in the position of Planning Director for our agency.
    There was at least one more major educational endeavor remaining in my life.  A number of years had passed and I had served in a number of roles and positions in my state agency.  It was about 1986.  This was at a time that I had been experiencing some frustration with my work assignments.  I had been turned down for a Regional Director position I had wanted.  I was doing insignificant work, serving in an audit and evaluation unit.  I determined to work on a doctorate, as perhaps a strategy to elevate my position and competitiveness in our Department.  I applied and was accepted into a doctoral program at the School of Social Work at the U of U.  I had gotten support from my supervisor, Dick Crouch, who allowed me to spend some time at the school for classwork and some use of work-related resources in my studies.
    I found these studies exhilarating.  I have said to some of my grandchildren, that education became more relevant and enjoyable each additional step I took.  Starting in grades seven and eight which were barely survivable, high school was better, college was better than high school, master’s studies better that undergraduate work, and these doctoral studies better than they all.  Of course, I was older and could relate to most of the instructors as peers.
    I quickly gained relationships with staff persons in the Social Research Institute which was attached to the School of Social Work and its director, Mark Fraser.  Also Fred Janzen and Peter Pecora, both of whom were research-oriented faculty persons.  These relationships were helpful in developing my dissertation project and continued with cooperative endeavors after I finished my doctorate and was serving in later positions with my state agency.   We did several joint research projects, and published their results.  Fred also worked with me as a consultant on some of our Division projects.   Fred and I also worked together teaching some social work classes for the school on research and computer applications.
    Peter and Mark had a federal grant to study family preservation services in child welfare. For my doctoral dissertation, I was able to use data that they had collected.  I contributed a chapter to a book that they published, and participated. in other ways in their research on this subject.  Intensive family preservation service was an innovative program initiative in child welfare at that time, and for that matter, it still is.  It attempted to remedy some of the faults in the public child welfare system by putting more resources into helping families with a history of child neglect to improve their parenting skills and efforts, thus reducing removals of children and other forms of family break-up.  I have more to say about my efforts with these services in the chapter on my working career.
    Here is a summery of my dissertation study, “Service-Related Correlates of Treatment Success in Intensive Family Preservation Services for Child Welfare.”
    The purposes of this study were to describe the characteristics of intensive family preservation services (FPS) and to identify the association between FPS variables and desired treatment outcomes as defined by service goal attainment and prevention of out-of-home-placement of children.  Subjects were 581 children from 453 families served by two related FPS programs, Homebuilders in the state of Washington and the Family Preservation Project of the Utah Department of Social Services.  The latter had been trained in FPS by staff of the Homebuilders' program.
    Findings from this study provided empirical data supporting the comprehensive and intensive nature of this model of FPS.  Important elements of this model included the provision of concrete services and utilization of a broad range of clinical services.  Clinical approaches included a major emphasis on both social learning approaches and psychotherapeutic interventions.  The most significant services directly associated with reduced risk of out-of-home placement were the clinical intervention Time/Money Management, the amount of therapist time spent in providing concrete services, and goal attainment ratings.
    Service models predictive of the attainment of specific goals included a wide variety of clinical techniques, including psychotherapeutic interventions, social learning approaches, and concrete services.  Service models developed for adolescent and nonprotective service referra1 subgroups accounted for 1ower proportions of variance, had fewer significant interventions, and included fewer variables relating to concrete services and educational approaches.
    Among the implications of these findings was the affirmation of the essential features contained in the Homebuilders' model as an approach to preventing out-of-home placement of children.  Important components included provision of concrete services and a broad range of clinical interventions, encompassing both direct interventions and educationa1 approaches.  Models for resolving problems in families of adolescents suggested a somewhat different configuration of services.  Findings reinforce the need in social work practice and in social work education to continue to give attention to a broad range of intervention skills, including provision of concrete services, clinical techniques from a variety of theoretical paradigms, client training approaches, and community and social network involvement.
(Abstract for Doctoral Dissertation, Robert E. Lewis, “Service-Related Correlates of
Treatment Success in Intensive Family Preservation Services for Child Welfare,” University of Utah, June 1990.)
    Completing the work for my degree, Doctor of Social Work or DSW, seemed to work some changes in my attitudes and goals for work.  It seemed to free me in a way to pursue what I wanted and thought to be correct and to not be concerned with promotions or status positions.  I felt a sort of independence that I had not had before.  And oddly, it brought me back to where I started in psychology, emphasizing quantitative things, something I had dismissed earlier.  This all reminds me of some lines by T. S. Eliot:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
    At least, I believe I did this all in a way that supported and did not detract from the happiness and well-being of my family.
    I also enjoyed the opportunity to be a part of the academic world in a small way, in teaching some classes, coordinating on research projects, being on a dissertation committee, and have the status for a number of years of adjunct professor at the School of Social Work at the U.
    Here is one more higher education post-script.  Later, in the process of directing the SAFE (DCFS child welfare MIS) project, I acquired ten more graduate credit hours from Utah State University in information technology.
    And now, one more note about the field of social work.  I became convinced that the training that Social Work provided for persons to be helpers was perhaps the best practical preparation at the time for child welfare workers and even mental health counselors.   However, toward the end of my working career I let my membership in the National Association for Social Workers (NASW) lapse, because the national scene seemed irrelevant.  NASW had become dominated by feminists, apologists for same-sex marriage and LGBTQ causes, and other concerns of identity politics.  The history of social work, of course, had a focus in persons like immigrants who had special needs, and practitioners had always tried to be advocates for the poor and other victims of social problems, but the problems of concern to NASW seemed more elitist, than of the poor and needy.  On the other hand, our child welfare FPS initiative was aimed at strengthening families so that children would have the optimal environment for healthy development.  In some ways this appeared to be the opposite of the causes that NASW was concerned about at the moment.
    Additionally, the academic world that had always had some attraction to me, seemed more and more dominated by the same narrow ethos as NASW.  I served on a doctoral committee for Elaine Walton’s dissertation at the U of U.  She was a fortyish woman, who after finishing her doctorate, joined the faculty of the school of social work at Ohio State, and then later returned to Utah as the dean of the school of social work at BYU.  She reported on several ugly experiences and rejections by members of the OSU faculty, simply because of her membership in our Church.  I am glad to not have had these kinds of experiences in the academic world elsewhere.  I do not know if I could recommend social work as a career direction today.

Personal History XI -- My Love of Sports

My Love of Sports

    Another love of my life was sports.  I mentioned my dad’s interest in baseball earlier.  We lived in the era when every little podunk town had its own baseball team.  My dad was a catcher.  He was almost an even six feet tall and built like a football linebacker.  In those days, there were no rules against the catcher blocking home plate and he could do that, standing a foot or so directly on the path toward third base and just daring a base-runner to try to run over him.  I look at my grandchildren inheriting his size and build and I say about McKay, “There goes a little version of my dad.”
    Catcher’s mitts were also different then and had no flex built into them.  Pitched balls had to be caught with both hands, stopping the throw with the mitt and then keeping it in the pocket by clamping down on the ball with the bare hand.  An occupational hazard for catchers in those days was naturally getting your bare hand in the way of the pitch and broken knuckles. My dad ‘s right hand and his knotty knuckles were a badge of his baseball position and commitment.
    The baseball diamond on which the Glenwood Town Team played was the field at the school behind the school gym.   The Town Team games were a big deal on Sunday afternoons.  Spectators would come early and park their cars along the left and right field foul-lines.  There was a small grandstand behind the backstop, but many people seemed to prefer sitting in their cars.  When a player made a good play, they would honk their horns.  A home run brought honking that could be heard  for miles.
    I gained a preference for watching the game from behind the backstop, directly behind home plate, perhaps inheriting this desire for a catcher’s point of reference from my dad.  I liked to see what kind of “stuff” the pitcher had, and also to being able to confirm or question the calls made by the umpire.
    Other young men also hung out in that area.  We competed to chase down foul balls.  The team paid a nickle for every foul ball we returned.  In those times the team tried to save money by not using more than three or four balls to play a game.
    I remember and we have pictures of my dad in his baseball uniform when I was 4 or 5 years old.  Then all baseball stopped for World War II.  When it resumed in 1946, at his age 40 he tried once more to play the game he loved, but had lost too much of his athleticism, and didn’t get to play much, so he quit.  But still he loved the game.  We were Portland Beaver fans, and drove down to Portland a time or two to see one of their games (about 100 miles away).  It was unfortunate that radio reception for Beaver games was really spotty at our place.  Finally we resolved our problem by finding a clear channel station from Sacramento, California, that broadcast games of the Sacramento Bees of the same Pacific Coast league.  I recall my dad and I on many summer evenings after he had finished milking our cows, sitting together by the family radio relishing these baseball broadcasts.
    At the same time, I became a Boston Red Sox fan at age 9.  It was 1946, the great Ted Williams was back from the Air Force and the Sox ran away in their race for the American League pennant.  I am searching my mind to try to recall how I had enough exposure to news about the major leagues to find them interesting.  There was of course no TV or video reports of games, and I am doubtful that there were even radio broadcasts except maybe World Series times.  I guess I must have been an avid reader of the sports section of the Portland Oregonian, our newspaper.  The World Series was tragic.  The Red Sox were playing the Cardinals and led the series 3 to 2, going back St. Louis.  The Cardinals won game six to tie the series.  In the final game in bottom of the eighth with the score tied and a Cardinal runner, Enos Slaughter, on first, there was a hit to the outfield.  Slaughter got a great jump on the ball and just kept going, with a daring dash for the plate.  The Red Sox shortstop, Johnny Pesky, took the incoming throw and froze for a moment, so that his throw to home was late.  Slaughter had scored the winning run and was immortalized.  I suffered with the Red Sox in 1946 and for many years thereafter.
    I sometimes dreamed of playing baseball in the majors.  I thought if I could learn to pitch left handed, I would have a chance. So I marked off a strike zone on the side of our barn and practiced throwing baseballs, but never got past the point of “throwing like a girl” as Wendy would say with my left arm, and gave up on being a famous major league pitcher.  My good friend Jimmy Johnson had similar dreams, so for quite a few years we put ourselves through our own Spring training regime.  When the snow would begin to melt around the side of the school gym, so that there was room for two persons to play catch, we would start to bring our baseball mitts to school.  At recess or noon we would begin to get our throwing arms ready for the baseball season, throwing softly at the start and then lengthening the time and velocity of our throws gradually over the next few weeks.  I think we started this procedure long before we were a part of any formal baseball team.
    Our community provided no opportunity for me to play organized sports until I was at least a seventh grader, and this was school basketball.  The small rural schools in our area organized seventh and eighth grade teams that sometimes played a late afternoon game the same day that their varsity teams competed.  Sometimes there was also a junior varsity game.  Those Fridays got really complicated, because of a rule enforced by the state high school athletic association, which was that no one could play in more than four quarters on a given day.  In schools such as ours with very small numbers, the coaches had to have enough subs available to finish the game if someone would get hurt or foul out.  So drawing from a grand total of about 20 boys at our school, the coaches would hold out the best 8th graders for one or two quarters, to be subs in the junior varsity game.  Likewise for the junior varsity game a couple of the best players would sit out a quarter or two of that game.  This would leave the best 5 or 6 players in the whole school to play the varsity game having two or three subs who already had played some quarters in an earlier game.  The entire schedule of games would start at perhaps 3 pm with the seventh and eighth grade game.  Then immediately following would be the junior varsity game, following which the high school girls volleyball teams would play.  Then last of all, starting about 7 pm would be the varsity basketball game.  To complicate the evening even more, we tried to field a pep band (our school band).  Since most of the students played ball and were also in the band, when we weren’t suited up for a game, we were expected to be playing our instrument in the band.
    At Glenwood High School, we played six-man football.  The rules were mostly like the eleven man game, but teams played with only six players, three linemen and three backs.  The linemen were a center and two ends.  The backs were a quarterback and two halfbacks.  Everyone was an eligible receiver.  One of our favorite plays was a center pass.  Our big old kid Don Hoodenpyl, who hiked the ball, ran down field about eight or ten yards and received a pass.  In this game, passing operated just like the eleven man game.  However, the quarterback was not allowed to do a quarterback sneak.  If he didn’t pass he had to hand the ball to someone else (a two passes in the backfield rule).  Teams had to make 15 yards for a first down.  The games typically were filled with lots offense and scoring.
    I actually started this football in the fall when I was in the eighth grade (at age 12).  There were so few boys in high school that the team that couldn’t scrimmage or practice its plays.  At one point, some of us eighth graders were drafted to play defense.  And the team didn’t have enough pads for their recruits to be in full uniform.  I was apprehensive but tried it and survived.       There was a lot of social pressure on all the guys to go out for football.  My being a year younger was a disadvantage also.  After I got some more height and size when I was about 15, sports, especially football, were more satisfying.
    In football, I usually played end both on offense and defense.  In football, we only played schools our size that competed with 6-man teams.  I can think of one exception, when Coach Chilcott wanted us to experience the regular game.  He was able to schedule a scrimmage with the Goldendale high school team, which normally played in an 11-man league with teams from Yakima valley.  We didn’t do any practice or preparation for this.  The coach had a bunch of position and play cards. When we were on offense he ran out to our huddle and held up a card which diagramed what each of us was to do on the next play he wanted us to run.  I turned out to be quite fun, and I think athletically we were able to be nearly a match.  Our main opponents in football were high school teams from Klickitat, Lyle, Wishram, in Washington, and some Oregon towns, Cascade Locks, Mosier, Dufer.  I think it was sad that we didn’t get to play against our biggest basketball rival, Trout Lake.  Their school did not field a football team.
    In basketball, by the time I was a senior, I ended up being one of the taller guys and played forward.  I was a pretty good rebounder and could hit an outside set shot (the jump shot hadn’t been invented yet).  Our basketball opponents were the Washington schools listed above, plus Trout Lake and Bickleton.  We also played pre-season with Goldendale.  We competed with the schools our size pretty well and had lots of support from the community.  We won or nearly won our league each year.  We qualified for a district tournament, but lost a team from Kalama, which was a basketball powerhouse at that time.  We were in a small school bracket but Kalama had a lot larger student population than Glenwood.  I think the state only had two brackets at this time so we were still grouped with schools that had hundreds of students.
    I played a lot of the positions in baseball.  For at least a couple of years, I was the regular catcher.  Our little valley produced some good baseball talent.  We played a pre-season game against Goldendale, in which Steve Hoodenpyl pitched a one hitter, and we won 1-0.  I caught that game. I played first base one year, when I had an ankle sprain left over from the football season.  I also sometimes played in the infield, second base and third base. 
    In all of these sports, I was one of the better players but never the best.  In football we had a couple of guys who could pass and others that were good runners with the football.  Lyle Schilling was a great basketball scorer and good for 20 or 30 points each night.  It was a lot of fun to play and compete on these teams.
    One of the disadvantages I experienced in school sports was that I was always a year younger and less mature than the others.  In fact Lyle Schilling had been held back a year in the elementary grades so was a 19 year old the same time we were both high school seniors.
    A further baseball experience I had after my junior year was to be invited along with a couple of others from our Glenwood team to join an American Legion team that played out of White Salmon.
    Just after my 17th birthday I graduated from high school.  Several of us seniors were invited to join the Town Team, the same team my dad had played for when I was smaller.  By this time, I had grown to my full height and had begun to add a few muscles.  It was late May and as I started attending the Town Team practices I noticed that something different was happening as I took batting practice.  The ball seemed to fly off my bat in a new way.  I watched my drives consistently going deep into the outfield or even beyond the fence.  It was almost magical and I think the older players on the team were also taking notice.
    Early in the first of June we had a visitor drop in.  It was the Branch President who had made the one-hour drive to our place with an invitation.  He said to me and my sister Dorothy, “We have reserved the baptismal font at the Hood River Ward for a branch baptismal service on Saturday at 5 p.m.  Why don’t you come and be baptized?”
    I had been praying for this opportunity since I was 8 years old.  My father had opposed our being baptized until were grown up enough to make a mature decision but now gave his approval.  We made the 90 minute drive to Hood River and, sure enough, the Branch leaders were there, and they baptized us and confirmed us members of the Church.
    Over the next few days I pondered the implications of what had happened.  Things had changed.  I had made promises to the Lord that I needed to try to keep.  The Town Team played all of its games on Sunday.  I knew that I just covenanted to be obedient to commandments that included keeping the Sabbath Day holy, and spending my Sundays playing baseball games seemed now to not fulfill that expectation.  So I made the choice that I felt I had to make and retired from the Town Team.  You might say that I had retired from baseball at age 17.
    After I began college at BYU, there was a time when I toyed with the idea of preparing to be a high school teacher and coach.  A physical education major or minor required a person to take a series of PE skills classes.  I took three of these classes in my sophomore year, including gymnastics and track and field.  I found that I did not have the best body type for gymnastics–I was too tall and lacked upper body strength, but it was fun to jump on the trampoline.  Track and field was more to my liking.  I tried the various events, and thought that I had potential to do well in the middle distance races.  I did especially well in the high jump.
    In those days, the best high jump form involved a sort of scissors kick and roll.  You approached the bar at a sharp angle, usually from the left side.  While running at the bar, you kicked upward with the right leg, then rolled over the bar on your stomach, kicking backward with your left leg.  I worked on this for a couple of weeks and successfully jumped 5 feet 11 inches.  This was not more than 5 or 6 inches below the height being achieved by the varsity jumpers.  I briefly had a dream of competing with the BYU track team, but then went on a mission and didn’t have the chance to pursue this any further.  And then came the Fosbury Flop that totally changed this event.
    I did other things with sports also, as a BYU student.  As a freshman, I took a PE class in tennis and learned something about how to play this game.  My coach with Fred “Buck” Dixon a Utah Sports Hall of Fame coach.  As an aside, his brother Sanky Dixon had some of the same coaching acclaim, and was the father of Don Dixon, BYU football quarterback and social worker, with whom I worked at the Welfare Department and State Hospital. And Don was the father of Sean Dixon, the Blake’s current Stake President and who also was Payson Seminary Principal when I was substitute teaching when I first moved to Utah County after retiring.
    In my student wards at college I played on the ward basketball and volleyball teams.  One of the wards had some California kids who were very good at the latter.  We won in our stake and came in second to an American Fork team led by the BYU basketball great Herschel Pedersen in a Utah County regional tournament, and qualified for and played in the All-Church volleyball tournament in Salt Lake.

    For many years, I played with whatever sports teams the ward fielded.   In our Orem Morningsides Heights ward, we had basketball and also fastpitch softball.  There were lots of younger men in the ward, so we were pretty competitive  Living in the ward was Lonnie Gleave, who had played freshman basketball ay BYU.  He was tall and bulky by this time and took up a lot of space in the on the basketball court.  He also was a talented softball pitcher.  I caught some of our team’s games.  Living in another ward of our stake was Gary Earnest, who had played varsity basketball ay BYU and was an excellent softball pitcher.  I had the good fortune to connect on one of his fastballs and hit it over the fence in centerfield in one of games. 
    I also played on teams from our ward in Taylorsville, basketball and softball.  We played slowpitch softball there and I usually played way out in the outfield, because I had some running and catching skills.
    One of the most happy experiences I had with sports was helping coach Mattthew’s and David’s little league baseball teams.
    As I approached my 40th birthday, I started running or jogging, either before work or noon.  Our Department state office building on North Temple had a dressing and shower room that was a big asset.  Usually I would run up City Creek Canyon, or sometimes west to the Jordan River trail, and occasionally to the top of Ensign Peak.
    I ran in several 5k or 10k races during this period for the exercise, but of course never contended to try to win.
    I also played noon basketball at times with a group from our office, at a nearby special school building where we had permission to use the gym.  That is what I was doing in 1985, at age 48, when I had my first heart attack
    I always remained a sports fan.  I cheered for BYU in all sports, but sometimes also rooted for teams from the U of U or USU, when they were not playing the Y.   Surely I am allowed to do that, since I have graduate degrees or credit from both other schools.
    More recently, when available I have enjoy following BYU sports on TV, watching some of the lesser sports, women’s soccer and basketball, and both mens and women’s volleyball.  Since I also played that game, it has become an amazing spectacle for me, a real power game both for the women and the men.
    I have been a fan of the Utah Jazz, all of the years they have been in Salt Lake City
    In baseball, I have maintained my devotion for the Red Sox, but have also followed other teams especially the Denver Rockies, since we can watch all of their games on the Spanish Fork cable network (SFCN).  I was not able to pass my devotion to the Red Sox to anyone else in the family, and early on Matthew and David chose their own MLB teams to follow. 
    I thank David for arranging to take us on a guided tour of Fenway Park during the off-season when Wendy and I visited their family while they were living in Massachusetts.  I loved seeing for myself features of the park that have been immortalized, the Green Monster, the Pesky Pole, and especially the seat way out in the right field bleachers that is painted red.  In case you don’t know, this signifies the spot where the longest home run ever hit in the park landed, 504 feet from home plate, by Ted Williams.  The rest of the story is that it struck a Yankee fan, while he was dozing.  He had come up from New York and the teams were playing a double header on a hot afternoon.  The right field bleachers had no cover.  He had just closed his eyes to catch a few winks, when the ball came flying.  He didn’t suffer any injuries, but the Red Sox management were generous in offering him a free ticket whenever her returned.
    Interestingly, Wendy along with her sisters are great baseball fans.  She has suffered with the Chicago Cubs for almost as many years as I have with the Red Sox, and she, like me, is a Jazz fan.  We try to go to a Salt Lake Bees game a time or two with her siblings each summer.  We have watched quite a lot of baseball and basketball TV together.  She also is a diehard Ute, but I still care for her.

Personal History X--My Young Mission

My Young Mission

    During my sophomore year of college I made a determination to serve a mission.  I began to have a feeling of being indebted to the Lord for the blessings I had received by being in the Church, and that I should try to share these blessings by serving a mission.  Being able to be baptized into the Church at age 17 and then to attend BYU and learn so much more about our religion and the joys I had felt from this fulfillment and greater direction in my life, gave me a feeling of needing to give back something to the Lord.
    At some point, I also had a spiritual restoration of an earlier insight about serving a mission.  In about 1946 or 1947, we had missionaries visit us at our home in Glenwood.  I think they were stationed in White Salmon.  We saw them several times.  They visited with us and at one point played ball with me.  One of the Elders was Elder Stephen Sedley Sanford.  After returning home, in 1950 he married Marjorie Mortensen.  They had a large family of mostly boys.  As a happy coincidence, one of their sons, Roland Bruce Stanford, became the husband of our daughter Angela and father of five of our wonderful grandchildren.
    At some point during a visit of Elder Stanford and his companion, I had a message impressed upon my mind, “If you join the Church, you will also serve a mission.”  Some years later, I was reminded of this message, that I had known in my heart from a young age that serving a mission was a part of my obligation and destiny.
    Young men were being called at age 20 then.  My parents had very little extra money and I didn’t think my dad should or would want to provide support.  But I worked up a plan.  From my talks with other young men who had calls, I figured that I would need about $2000 in the bank to pay for the mission. (Notice how inflation since 1957 has increased that amount 5 times or so.)  I had the promise of returning to a job for J. Neils in the logging industry at home, and living at home I could save at least $300 each month, so I calculated that by the first of 1958 I would have enough money.
    When I came home for Christmas vacation in 1956,  I sought out Pres. Burles and discussed my feelings and desires.  I said that I thought with my summer job, I could stay and work about 6 months and have enough savings to support myself.  He said that they had never sent a missionary out before but promised he would find out all that was needed to do that.  And he did.
    My plan began to work out as I returned home from school.  I was working in the woods for J. Neils and saving on schedule.  In early August the Branch President, Moz Burles, pulled me aside and said he thought it was time we got started on the call.  He (and the branch) had never sent a missionary out before and he wanted to make we got it right. He had read in the Church News (I guess he had a subscription that came in the mail each week, the same as we had in North Carolina) that an apostle, Elder Adam S. Bennion, was going to be at a stake conference in Portland in the next week or so.  He had obtained a copy of the mission application forms, which he would fill out.  Then on that Saturday, I first would need to drive to The Dalles and get the District President’s signature and then to Portland to the stakehouse to find Elder Bennion. (In those days, a prospective missionary needed an interview with a General Authority as the final step in submitting the papers.)
    So, I left Glenwood early on Saturday morning and drove to Lyle, Washington, where President Burles lived, and picked up the papers. Then I drove to The Dalles and found the District President (I don’t remember whether I had an appointment), got his signature, and then set out for Portland.  It was a long drive before the freeway system was completed.  It was late afternoon when I found the Stakehouse in Sellwood (a Portland suburb).  I went there without an appointment or any notice, just trusting in the direction of President Burles to go to the Stake building and try to find Elder Bennion.  The building was open, apparently for leadership meetings later in the evening, but only a custodian was present putting the finishing touches on his cleaning.  I went back to my car and waited.  After some time, a big, black Cadillac pulled into the parking lot near me, and I recognized Elder Bennion in the passenger seat.  (He was quite distinguished looking with full head of silver hair and I had seen him in pictures and at a BYU devotional.)  I walked over to the car and he rolled down the window and asked how he could help me.  I replied that I wanted to go on a mission.  He seemed to start with an explanation of all the steps that a person would need to go through, when I showed him the envelope and told him I had all the application papers, but needed an interview with a general authority.  He said, “OK, let’s do it now,” and shooed the Stake President out of the car, slid over under the wheel, and invited me to sit in the seat where he had been.
    I don’t recall much about the interview except that when he asked me how I would be supported, I went through my plan to have enough money saved to support myself by the end of the year.  He said, “Would you be willing to start sooner, if when I get back to Salt Lake, I can find some ways to help?”  I agreed, and so he kept the papers, I went back to my car and headed home to Glenwood, where I got home late in the evening.
    In about a week and half here came the letter calling me to the North Central States Mission, and to report at the Mission Home in Salt Lake (MTC predecessor, located on State Street just north of the Beehive House) in a few short weeks. 

My First Temple Experience
    I had my “Sacred Grove” experience in connection with the Logan Temple.  All my life it has been foundational to my faith.
    As I traveled to Utah, I made plans after leaving my home in Glenwood, Washington, for a brief visit with my sister Dorothy who was at Ricks College and also with my Uncle Franklin and Aunt Ellen in Provo, before reporting to the Mission Home.  I also wanted to experience another temple in addition to Salt Lake, so made plans to take out my endowments at Logan, as I traveled from Rexburg to Provo.  I recall thinking that this temple might have some special meaning being the temple in which my grandparents, Frank Davenport and Kate Lufkin, had been married and in which my great-grandmother, Martha Ann Lufkin, had labored diligently for our ancestors.
    I left Rexburg on the middle of the day on October 2, 1957, traveling by Trailways bus.  We arrived at the bus station on the south end of Main Street in Logan about 5 pm.  I got off and walked about three blocks north to a hotel where I made arrangements for a room, planning to take out my endowments at the Logan temple in the morning.  However, I had not thought to oversee the removal of my baggage from the bus, and when I returned to the bus station, I was disconcerted to find that my bags had stayed on the bus for Salt Lake City.  I remember the sportshirt I was wearing, with blue and silver stripes.  My suits, white shirts and ties, shaving equipment, personal gear, and worst of all, my temple recommend, were in the bags on their way south.
    I went to my hotel room and pondered my situation.  I was especially concerned about not having the temple recommend and being frustrated in my plan to receive my endowments in the Logan temple the next morning.  I began to wonder if this was some kind of sign to me that God did not want me to serve a mission, or that I wasn’t worthy to serve.
    I knelt beside the hotel room bed and started to pray.  I prayed out loud, probably the first personal vocal prayer I had ever said.  I expressed my frustrations.  I listed my sins and asked forgiveness.  I think this prayer went on for a long time.  Finally I asked what to do now.  A voice came, not in my ears, but in my feelings I believe, but I knew exactly the words: “Everything is going to be alright.  Go to bed and get a good rest.  In the morning, get up early and go up to the temple.  Everything is going to be alright.”
    I was comforted but surprised.  I had no idea that God or His Spirit spoke in actual words.  Then I began to wonder at this experience.  Was this real?  Did I just make it up?
    I began to pray again, and offered the same prayer I had just completed, identical to the first, my frustrations, my sins.  Finally I asked again what to do.  I was blessed to hear or feel the same words of assurance and direction:  “Everything is going to be alright.  Go to bed and get a good rest.  In the morning, get up early and go up to the temple.  Everything is going to be alright.”
    I thought that I had tested the Lord enough and better do what He said, so I called the front desk for an early wake-up call, and went to bed.  I slept well enough, and when the call came in the early morning at perhaps about 5:30 a.m., I got up, cleaned up as best I could, and headed for the temple.
    It was a clear fall morning in Logan, a little before sunrise.  I could see the towers of the temple off and on, so walked up the streets toward the temple.  The sun was just starting to shine between the trees.   At first I did not see any signs of human life around the temple.  I passed by the south end of the temple and circled around to the east.  I had had no experience with temples and did not quite know what to do next.  I noticed some people with small suitcases going into a door on the east side of a small annex on the north part of the temple.  I stood watching for several minutes.  I began to again have some questioning thoughts.  “You don’t know what you are doing.  They won’t let you come in.”  I told myself, “You heard the instruction and the promises.”  I gritted my teeth, walked to the door, I pushed it open.  Immediately inside there was a man at a desk.  I stammered something about getting my endowments but not having my recommend.  He said I could talk to the Temple President and immediately called for him and I was ushered into the Temple President’s office.
    I shared the entire story with the Temple President.  He pulled a book out and asked me a couple of questions about my home branch and the name of the Branch President.  That seemed to be consistent with the information in the book.  Then he said, “I will let you get your endowments this morning on one condition–that you tell your story to a group of persons who will be meeting in the chapel before the session.”
    So that is how I got my endowments on October 3, 1957 in the Logan temple, without a recommend, without shaving or brushing my teeth, and wearing a sportshirt with blue and silver stripes to the temple.  I also learned some significant things that have helped me throughout my life, about how the Spirit works and how kind and patient is our Father.

Travel to the Mission and Mission Support
    I reported, as requested, to the Mission Home in Salt Lake early in October, still wondering what arrangements Elder Bennion had made for the rest of my support.  I had been able to bank about half of the amount needed.  When I had some free moments, I walked over to the Church Administration Building which was around the corner on the same block, to try to find Elder Bennion.  I was informed that he was touring the European mission this month.  When I explained my dilemma, I was referred to the missionary department and interviewed by the young head of that department, Gordon B. Hinckley.  He was very kind.  He said he knew nothing of what Elder Bennion had arranged, but instructed me to meet with my mission president shortly before my own funds were exhausted who would make whatever arrangements that were needed for my continuing support.
    So off I went to Minnesota the following week.  There were six Elders in our party and we traveled by train to Minneapolis to the mission headquarters. 
    Along in the Spring of 1958, I had the chance to visit with President Paul Child about the matter of finances. We looked together at the mission application, and, unknown to me, President Burles had completed the section on finances, saying that support would come from the missionary and his family. We then supposed that Elder Bennion and the missionary committee, upon seeing this, had not worried more about my support.
    President Child was able to make arrangements for the money I needed.  (We were expected to live on $70 a month, which included rent and all other expenses, even purchasing Book of Mormons to give away.) He started by having me sent from the mission a $25 check each month from an anonymous donor. (I always suspected that the donor was President Child himself, but never knew for sure.) A little later, he also made arrangements for the Elders Quorum in the Mid-Columbia District at home to send $45 a month. Most of the strength of the quorum was in The Dalles branch. I learned later that my Uncle Rodney was the quorum secretary at the time and was responsible for collecting the money.
    While I appreciated the generosity of whoever was helping provide money for my mission over the last year or so, I always felt a little embarrassed and even maybe a little cheated that I was not able to fully implement my plan to entirely support myself.  I resolved in my mind to repay this “debt” by providing support for other missionaries.

Providing Missionary Support
    When Michael passed away, we had accumulated some savings in his name, looking forward for a time when he would need money for a mission or college.  We determined to dedicate these monies to the support of other missionaries and as a way to repay a part of the "debt" for my mission support, we have been privileged to provided monies for six children to serve missions, sent money each month in support of each grandchild who has served as a missionary, and have also donated money to a number of outgoing missionaries.  This is a letter JoAnn and I used for many years when we give some money to an outgoing missionary:

MICHAEL R. LEWIS MEMORIAL FUND
(February 20, 1975-August 24, 1988)
    When Michael Lewis was born, doctors gave little hope for his survival because of a serious heart defect.  However, as a small baby he was blessed by the priesthood to "live to fulfill the purposes of his creation," and he did survive heart surgery at two weeks of age, numerous bouts with pneumonia during his first two years, and several other major surgeries and illnesses as he grew older.
    Michael loved life!  He built a life for himself within the bounds his physical limitations set which was happy and fulfilling for him.  He never felt sorry for himself or complained about his health, but accepted each new problem with courage and a maturity beyond his years.
    From the time he was four years old he had a great love for scouting, which continued through Cubs and the Boy Scout program.  When he became a scout he set a goal to become an Eagle at twelve years of age.  If he had a hospital stay coming up, he made sure his requirements were done ahead so he could advance in the least amount of time.  He achieved the rank of Eagle in February 1988, just a few days after his 13th birthday, and six month before he passed away.  At his Eagle Court of Honor, a friend, a scout leader, a school teacher, and his cardiologist all paid tribute to him for his courage, determination, patience, and persistence.
    Michael served in his Deacon's Presidency and as Senior Patrol Leader for Troop 791.  As Senior Patrol Leader, he was responsible to conduct Boards of Review for other scouts as they advanced in rank. [This was an old procedure that was later discontinued by BSA--REL.  Most recently only adults could serve on these Boards.]  He would ask each scout the direct question, "Are you planning to go on a mission?" [He had heard from his leaders that most boys who serve missions make that commitment early in their teen years--REL]  When the scout answered affirmatively, Michael would compliment him on having made that decision.  He encouraged the other scouts to commit to serving missions. Michael felt that for an LDS scout to be doing his "duty to God" he should be planning and preparing to be a missionary.
    When Michael submitted his application for the Eagle award to the Boy Scouts of America, he stated his own determination to serve a mission for the Church.
    Michael was very conscientious in his school work and was on the Honor Roll at Eisenhower Junior High School.  One of his favorite classes was Spanish.  He wondered whether he would be called on a mission where Spanish was spoken, and was excited about developing skills in that language.
    At an early age, Michael learned the usefulness of having money.  He always found a way to be earning some.  Before he was six years of age, he began selling greeting cards and later had several jobs mowing lawns.
    In keeping with a practice we began with Michael's older brothers and sisters, we started a savings account for Michael when he was born.  This account was for a mission or perhaps for college expenses.  We put a small amount of money into the account each payday; Michael also contributed money to this account from his own earnings.  Because of Michael's commitment to missionary work and because of his own contributions to this account, we have consecrated this money as a missionary fund, in his honor, to be used to help others take the Gospel of Jesus Christ to all the world as Michael had hoped to do.  Please accept this contribution toward your mission expenses in the name of Michael R. Lewis.
    May the Lord's blessings be with you as you go about your missionary labors.
            Robert and JoAnn Lewis and Family
Blog, Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Mission Home
    The starting place for missions in the days I served my young mission was called the Mission Home.  I believe it was a home originally occupied by part of Brigham Young’s families, and was on the west side of Salt Lake city’s Main street just north of South Temple.  It was either just north of the Beehive House or else the north part of that house that exists today. I spent seven days there being oriented to missionary work.  I mentioned earlier that I had the opportunity to walk around the corner to the Church Office Building, and visited with Elder Hinckley of the missionary committee. 
    The day before we were to leave the Mission Home, we went back over to the Church Office Building to be set apart as missionaries.  It was October 16, 1957.  We went as small groups to various general authorities who were available that day to provide these blessings.  My little group were directed to the office of Milton R. Hunter of the Presidency of the Seventy.  There were seven or eight of us, going to various missions.  I was one of the last to be set apart.  I took note of the words Elder Hunter spoke to each of us.  There seemed to be quite a lot of variation, I supposed, according to the inspiration given to Elder Hunter for the specific needs of each missionary.  Then it was my turn. 
    My blessing seemed to center around this scripture: “And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one asoul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!”  (D&C 18:15)
    These questions came to my mind, “What kind of a mission am I going to?  Did Elder Hunter know that it was not a very productive mission for convert baptisms?  Is he trying to help me to not have high expectations or to avoid discouragement?”
    As it turned out, this was good preparation.
    When the week was up, I was with a small group of  missionaries bound for the North Central States Mission.  We boarded a train and began our journey to the mission headquarters in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

G. Eugene England, My First Mission President
    My first mission President was G. Eugene England, a Salt Lake businessman.  He was released shortly after I arrived.  In the short time that I knew him, I remember him as being quite dynamic and inspirational.  Here is part of his obituary:
OBITUARY FOR G. EUGENE ENGLAND, Sr.
Deseret News  4/25/1996
George Eugene England, 92, passed away April 21, 1996, in Logan, Utah.
    He was bom March 12, 1904 in Moreland, Idaho to George William and Martha Jane Hatch England.  He married Dora Rose Hartvigsen October 5, 1932 in the Logan LDS Temple.  As a young man, he served a mission to the Southem States and later serfved stake mission.  During a full life of church service, he was Sunday School superintendent, counselor in the Downey, Idaho Ward bishopric, Salt Lake City Hillside Stake High Councilor, President of the North Central States Mission (1954-1957), counselor in the Salt Late Temple presidency and president of the London Temple (1964-1966).  He served on the church genealogical committee and was a sealer in the Sa1t Lake Temple for 23 years.  White serving as a guide at the Salt Lake Temple Visitors Center in the early 1970's he he1ped develop, with William Bradshaw, the Family to Family Book of Mormon project by which LDS Church members sent millions of copies with personal testimonies included, to be given by missionaries to people around the world. 
    He attended school in Moreland and graduated from Armino High School.   He was a graduate of USU with honors in Phi Kappa Phi and Alpha Zeta.  He taught school in Downey, Idaho, where he was also the seminary principal.
    From early in his life, he felt a special responsibility to help the gospel be preached to native peoples of North and South America and Polynesia.  To this end he and his wife, Dora gave generously of their resources throughout their lives together.  He was a farmer, a teacher, a fisherman, a golfer and a businessman.
    He is survived by one son, G. Eugene England, Jr. (wife, Charlotte), Provo, Utah; and one daughter, Ann Christine Barker (husband, Duane), Smithfield. Utah, in whose loving care be spent the last four and a half years of his life.
    His son, G. Eugene England, Jr., was a much admired scholar, author, historian, originator of the journal, Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, and also the Association for Mormon Letters.

First Area--Minneapolis,  and Companion, Elder McClellan
    My first area of assignment was in Minneapolis itself, in the very south end of the city proper.  It was a quiet middle class residential area.  There were a lot of Lutherans and Catholics and some Jewish families.  This was in the days of one-income households, so generally the mother was home.  It was not too uncommon to find an elder woman with a distinct Scandinavian accent, “I not interested.  Ima Lu-tairian.”
    Our assigned area included one of our church buildings, which housed the Minneapolis First branch.  This was one of two buildings and branches existing in the city.  It was a red brick older building that had all the facilities of chapels in Utah.  At one point a few weeks later, I and my companion were amused to meet a lady while tracting who invited us in, recognizing that we were from the same church as Richard L. Evans, telling us that she listened or watched his broadcast with the Tabernacle Choir every week and wished he had a church in Minneapolis.  We tried to explain, without effect, that our church was only a block away from her house.
    My first companion was Elder Grant McClellan from Idaho Falls, Idaho.  As I corresponded with Dorothy, I learned that she had was acquainted at Ricks College with his younger brother, Wayne.  Here are some records for Elder McClellan:
     1940 United States Federal Census of Blackfoot, Bingham, Idaho
Dean McClellan             Head M W age 30 Md
Fern McClellan              Wife F W age 28 Md
Grant Clark McClellan   Son M Wage 4
Wayne R McClellan       Son M W age 2
Jeanette McClellan         Dau F W age 5/12
      Idaho, Marriage Records, 1863-1967
Name: Grant C. McClellan
Marriage Date: 22 Aug 1958
Marriage Place: Bonneville, Idaho, USA
Spouse: Jeanne Gubler
Certificate Number: 05278
     U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995
Name: Grant McClellan
Gender: Male
Residence Year: 1959
Street address: 21 E 15th
Residence Place: Idaho Falls, Idaho
Occupation: Laborer
Spouse: Jeanne McClellan
Publication Title: Idaho Falls, Idaho, City Directory, 1959
     U.S. Phone and Address Directories, 1993-2002
Name: Grant McClellan
Residence Years: 1993-2002
Address: 4398 E 360 N
Residence Place: Rigby, Idaho, USA
     White pages search (13 Jun 2020)
Name: Grant Clark McClellan
Age 84
Lives in Idaho Falls, ID
Used to live in Lebanon, NH
Related to: Aaron Clark Mcclellan, Aaron Michael Mcclellan, Andrew James Mcclellan, Grant A Mcclellan, Jason Tell Mcclellan, Jeanne G Mcclellan, Jonathan Paul Mcclellan, Jorelle Susanne Mcclellan, Peter William Mcclellan, Rachel C Mcclellan, Rebecca A Mcclellan, Rebecca Ann Mcclellan, Sherry J Mcclellan, Steven Dean Mcclellan
    The North Central States Mission was a tracting mission.  Our leaders wanted us to be out on the streets knocking on doors by 9 am.  What I recall about my two months with Elder McClellan was learning this process.  Elder McClellan was an experienced missionary about ready to go home.  The first day he took several doors and then asked me if I were ready to try.  He was patient with me but seemed to expect that I could do it.  I didn’t feel very confident but went ahead, “We’re missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and we have a message for you.”  By the time I had been with Elder McClellan for a few weeks, I was relatively comfortable with everything I was being asked to do as a missionary.

Second Companion, Elder Rockhill
    After two months, in mid-December 1957, Elder McClellan was released to return home and Elder Allen Rockhill became my second senior companion.  He was short and humble but fearless and strong in defending the Church.  He gave me a very unusual missionary experience.  One afternoon we were tracting down one of Minneapolis’s streets, knocked on a door and introduced ourselves as missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The respondent replied, “And I’m a man who deals with cults like you.”  He and Elder Rockhill had some kind of brief and unpleasant exchange, and then we left.  Elder Rockhill was troubled with the position this man took.  The more we talked, the more he seemed to feel that we needed to take some action.  He seemed to feel that this man was deserving to be sealed up to damnation or something similar.  Shortly after he consulted with the mission president about this.  Elder Rockhill was still wondering if this man had had sufficient opportunity to really understand what he was fighting against.  The answer seemed to devolve around whether he had read the Book of Mormon or not.
    From our brief confrontation with the man, we were not sure.  So, a few days after our initial visit with the man we went back.  We knocked on the door, Elder Rockhill asked the question, “Have you read the Book of Mormon?”  The man answered in the affirmative, so we said “Thank you,” and left. 
    After dark that evening we went back to his place, and kicked our shoes against the sidewalk in front of his house, shaking off the dust of our feet so to speak in the ancient way (Matthew 10:14; also D&C 75:20-22).
    I recall celebrating my first Christmas in the mission field, by going with Elder Rockhill to Wold-Chamberlain airport and touring the control tower.  I am not sure how we got permission to do this.  The main Minneapolis airfield was just south of our assigned area.
    There was another missionary area immediately south of us in the suburb of Bloomington, Minnesota, with a celebrity missionary serving there.  His name was Bob Engemann, who was one of the original members of the popular singing group, The Lettermen.
    Here is another experience I had with Elder Rockhill that was important to me:   
    On 07-15-2019, Elder Jamison Chandler, serving in the Bakersfield CA, mission, wrote this: “So this week was our first Zone Conference with President Sandberg and Sister Sandberg. To be honest it was a really cool and powerful Zone Conference. President Sandberg shared a story of his great grandfather who was living in the middle of nowhere in North Dakota all alone. He checked out the Book of Mormon from a library one time and started reading it. Even though he had read many books on the church that were anti he couldn't deny the power and truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. After a couple of years he packed up his stuff to go to Utah so he could be baptized. After getting baptized he moved back to North Dakota, started a family, and raised all his kids in the Gospel. It was a phenomenal story and President Sandberg referred to his great grandfather as a "Book of Mormon convert".
    As a grand coincidence, I believe I met President Sandberg, while I was young missionary in the North Central States Mission, serving in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  Late in the evening, on a night in the early weeks of my mission in 1957, as my second missionary companion, Elder Allen Rockhill and I approached the door of our apartment, we saw a man knocking on our door.  As he turned to us, I was immediately flooded with a strong spiritual impression that this was special and good man.  Elder Rockhill greeted him and introduced him to me as President Sandberg of the Gettysburg, South Dakota branch.  He was visiting in Minneapolis and had decided to see this elder who had very recently served in his area.
    Elder Rockhill told me later of President Sandberg’s remarkable conversion story.  Here is how I remember it.  It probably occurred in the 1920s or 1930s.  Two Sandberg brothers, like many in the area had migrated from Norway or Sweden recently and were by tradition Lutheran.  The Sandbergs had a farm in the vicinity of Gettysburg, and helped each other with the work of the farm.  The brother who later became the Gettysburg Branch President, had become disillusioned by the Lutheran Church.  But wanting more religious understanding, he investigated other Christian sects but seemed to also find them wanting.  He then decided that he would try to learn more about oriental religions.  One day the family experienced some kind of farm equipment breakdown, and the other brother made plans to go into town to get it repaired.  Brother Sandberg asked him for a favor when he was in Gettysburg, that
he go into the little county library and check out some books for him to study on the “isms.”  The brother did this as asked and when he  made the request of the librarian, she said that she only had two books on the “isms.”  They happened to both be about Mormonism.  It turned out that one of the books was a Book of Mormon, probably donated by an earlier missionary traveling in the area.  The other book was an exposé of Brigham Young and his plural wives.  The brother checked these books out and brought them home.
    Brother Sandberg saw that the Book of Mormon seem rather complex, with unusual names, etc., so decided that the Brigham Young book might be an better introduction to his study.  However, in just a few pages he determined that the author was contentious and full of antagonism, and decided therefore, that the book was not trustworthy.  He read the entire book but dismissed it.  Then he turned to the study of the Book of Mormon, and soon became convinced that it was true.
    I have repeated this story on a number of occasions, to make the point that persons who present arguments with a contentious spirit can probably not be trusted, as one searches for truth.
    The story continues, as told by Elder Rockhill.  Brother Sandberg had never met a member of the Church that believed in the Book of Mormon and may not even have known where they existed, but somehow identified that they were headquartered in Salt Lake City, Utah.  Wanting further information and contact, he addressed a letter to the leader of the Church, in Salt Lake City.  That mail found its way to someone in a leadership position in the church, and Brother Sandberg received a reply which began a correspondence.  Other literature was provided to him which he studied carefully and continued to be attracted to what he was learning.  Wanting to have contact with people of the Church, he made plans to travel to Utah.
    The next fall, after the harvest on the farm had been completed, Brother Sandberg began a drive to Salt Lake City.  He was anxious to finally meet a Latter-day Saint for the first time, and as he crossed over the state line, he stopped for gasoline in Coalville.  Anxiously, he asked the gas station attendant if he were Mormon, and the man threw down his cigarette and answered in the affirmative.  Brother Sandberg continued on, arriving at Temple Square.  He joined a tour group where at the conclusion, the guide asked his guests if they had questions.  Brother Sandberg raised his hand and asked how he could be baptized.  He was soon introduced to other church members and officials in the vicinity of Temple Square, attended meetings on Sunday where he bore a testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and in a few days, left for his home in South Dakota, having been baptized a member of the Church and ordained an elder.
    When he got back home, he baptized his girl friend and married her and began to raise a family in the Gospel, and served faithfully and well for many years as President of a branch of the church in his home area of Gettysburg, South Dakota.
    This is the story as I remember it, as recited by my companion, Elder Allen Rockhill, of Kamas, Utah.
Robert Lewis blog, July 31, 2019 (with a few minor corrections)
    Here is some more information about Elder Rockhill’s life, per his obituary:
    Standard-Examiner (Ogden, UT)  |  27 January 2002
    South Ogden, Ut.- Allen Edwin Rockhill, 65 of South Ogden, Utah passed away January 24, 2002 at Ogden Regional Hospital.
    He was born March 23, 1936 in Marion, Utah to Edwin and Hazel Dowdle Rockhill. He married Verna Rae Turnbow on January 30, 1959 in the Salt Lake Temple.
    He served 3 years in the US Army. And was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints where he served a mission to the North Central States, and remained a man of faith and prayer throughout his life.
    He drove truck for 30 years. And was later employed by Utility Trailer.
    He was a loving and respected Husband, Father and Grandfather.
    He loved his wife and family. He enjoyed making new friends and shootin" the breeze.
    He is survived by His wife, Verna Rae of South Ogden. Sons; Bart F. Rockhill, Ogden, Utah, Brett S. Rockhill, Ogden, Utah. Daughters; Pennie Rae Davis, Clearfield, Utah, LeAnn (Barry) Phelps, Fruit Heights, Utah, Rachelle (Darren) Struchen, Roy, Utah. 16 grandchildren, and 2 great-grandchildren. Sister; Blanche Garrard, Salt Lake City, Utah.
    He was preceded in death by his parents and son Steven Allen Rockhill.
    Funeral Services will be held on Monday January 28, 2002 at 11:00 a.m. in the South Ogden 7th Ward Chapel 720 Nancy Drive, where friends may call on Sunday evening from 6 to 8 p.m. at the Church and 1 hour prior to the service on Monday. Interment will follow in the Marion Utah Cemetery. Crandall Funeral Home of Kamas is handling arrangements.
    Copyright (c) 2002, Standard-Examiner
    I served with Elder Rockhill, until about late March 1958.

New Mission President, Paul C. Child
    Within a month of my arrival in Minnesota, President England was released and the new President was Paul C. Child.  I have written about our relationship and his influence in the chapter about persons of influence in my life.
Obituary
Paul C. Child, retired businessman, dies at 87
    Paul C. Child, 87, retired Salt Lake businessman and a member of the LDS Church General Welfare Committee, died Feb. 19, 1980, in Salt lake City.
    Mr. Child was associated with American Express Co. And earlier affiliates of the company for more than 48 years and served as a district manager in the Salt Lake offices from 1922 until he retired in August 1957.
    He was bishop of the Poplar Grove Ward of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for 11 years, then became counselor to the late President Harold B. Lee in the Pioneer Stake.  After serving as counselor for seven years, he became presideint of the stake, serving in that capacity for nine years.
    As a member of the General Welfare Committee, he helped establish the church welfare program in its present form.  He also was president of the North Central States Mission with headquarters in Minneapolis, Minn., for three years.
    During World War II, Mr. Child was a Civil Defense warden.  He served as chairman of the Westside Improvement League and was affiliated with Rotary Club.
    He was born march 31, 1892, I Ogden, son of Lester Aaron and Emma Goodale Child.  He married Diane H. Fallentine, June 11, 1913.
    Survivors include his widow and sons and daughters, Paul F., Carl B., Cleve S., Mrs. Thoman (Diana) Martin, Mrs. Clarence (Emma) Sollis, and Mrs. Daniel (Loretta) Locke, all of Salt Lake City; a sister, Mrs. Lawrence (Edith) Pyle, Berkeley, Calif.; 21 grandchildren and 48 great-grandchildren.
    Funeral will be held at 11 a.m. Saturday in the Poplar Grove Ward, 1401 W. Seventh South... Burial will be in Mount Olivet Cemetery.
(From FamilySearch Memories)

Third Companion, Elder Turley(?)
    My memory and lack of any records to fall back on make this hazy.  I believe I had a companion named Kent Turley, from California, for a brief three week period.  I remember he was about to be released and was ready to move on with his life.  Also I cannot recall for sure whether this was at the end of the six months I spent in Minneapolis or the start of my service in Selkirk, Manitoba Canada. My notes say Minneapolis, but I am not sure.  I was in my first area, a residential area in the south part of Minneapolis, for six months.

New Area–Selkirk, Manitoba, and Fourth Companion, Elder Wilson
    I recall the all-day long bus ride from Minneapolis to Winnipeg, Manitoba.  We went first to Fargo, North Dakota and then followed along a river, the Red River of the North, the remainder of the way.  The land was very flat.  Selkirk was about 30 miles north of Winnipeg near to the place where the Red River empties into Lake Winnipeg.  Selkirk was a fairly small town, maybe a population of 5,000 or so.  It originally had been a settlement for immigrants from Scotland and was named after Thomas Douglas, the Fifth Earl of Selkirk.  He was noteworthy as a Scottish philanthropist who sponsored immigration of low-income Scottish persons to the Red River Colony in Canada. 
    I do not remember our having a church or even a Sunday School in Selkirk.
    My fourth companion was Elder Al Wilson, from Payson, Utah.  He had been out about a month longer than I, and I was his first junior companion.  He had been a student at Utah State University.  I recall one amusing story he told me about his high school time.  With some of this friends at Payson High School, they had heard that Timpanogas was just a few feet taller than Nebo, and they had resolved to fix that.  So one day they climbed to the very top of Nebo and gathered Rocks into a pile that was 15 feet higher that the regular peak.  Later they were surprised to learn that all of their efforts had been in vain because their figures were off and Nebo was actually almost 200 feet taller without their aid.
    Elder Wilson had been in a fraternity at USU and had some interesting stories to tell about overcoming pressures to break the word of wisdom in that setting.
    In our tracting in Selkirk we met a young man who seemed somewhat interested in our message and willing to maintain contact with us.  We discovered that he liked to golf and was very positive about the Selkirk golf course, which might have been part of the Scottish heritage of that town.  This course was set in the bottoms of the Red River as it flowed through the edge of town.  The waters of the Red River in that location may have been about 50 or so feet below the level of the flat plains that exist there, and there were areas of bottoms land that were just above river level immediately by the river.  This golf course was on the town side of the river all along the east side of the town, and was very pretty.
    Elder Wilson and I decided that it might further our relations with our new contact if we became acquainted with this golf course and on the next preparation day, got to the clubhouse at the course early in the morning, like 7 a.m.  We most had the course to ourselves.  We rented some clubs and started to play.  This was a nine hole course and by 8:30 or so we finished the round.  It was still early so we decided to play another round.  When we finished, we were having so much fun, we decided to go again. 
    As we finished our 27th  hole, it was getting close to lunch time, so we turned in our clubs and headed back for our apartment.  The sun had been out, we were without hats and were feeling the start of some sunburn.  We were hot and tired.  We had a bite of lunch, then lay on our bed to get a little rest.  We slept and didn’t awaken until late afternoon.  We both felt super guilty that we were not tracting by 1 p.m. that afternoon.  I for one avoided golf for a number of years.
    With Elder Wilson, I learned some things about working cooperatively with a partner and how to support him as senior companion.  In the end, I liked him a lot and felt close to him. He was bright and thoughtful and committed.  I feel some sorrow that I was not able to maintain contact with him after our missions.  All I know about him is that he continued his studies at USU after finishing his mission.

Third Area–Dauphin, Manitoba,  Fifth Companion, Elder Hampton
    I was transferred to the town of Dauphin, Manitoba in July of 1958.  We were the farthest north missionaries in entire mission.  Dauphin was a town with a population of perhaps seven to eight thousand.  It was the largest town and commercial center in a largely agricultural area, mostly grain-growing, and not far from the lakes and wilderness of northern Canada.   It housed a regional office of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP).  While the officers we saw were not on horses, it was fun to see them in their uniforms, red coats and tall black fur hats.
    There also was a hilly wooded area a few miles to the south called Riding Mountain which included a ski resort.  The major railroad across Canada, the Canadian National Railway (CNR), went through Dauphin on it way west to Regina, Edmonton and Vancouver.
    The missionaries sponsored and conducted a Sunday School, under the direction of a Branch of the Church in the town of Brandon, which was 150 miles or so to the south on the far side of the Riding Mountains.  We met in a meeting hall belonging to some Canadian fraternal organization.  The only members of the church in Dauphin were sister Bos who lived on a farm outside the town and Brother and Sister Parker and their two little kids.  Until recently an investigator family had been attending, but they had been turned off and quit coming. The dad was an educated man, a Dentist, and had asked the prior Elders about the beliefs of our Church about evolution.  One of the Elders had sent home for more information and his family had sent a back a book by Joseph Fielding Smith that took a strong and rigid anti-evolution position and the family decided to not investigate the gospel further. They were a wonderful family, but I didn’t know enough to help them.  When I returned, to BYU, I discovered that there were persons who took a variety of positions on the validity of evolutionary concepts and still maintained their testimonies.  I wished that I had known of that when I was in Dauphin.
    There was also a Fulbrook family, living nearby, who had studied with previous missionaries but had not taken the steps to live the Word of wisdom, but they had daughters who were interested and sometimes were saw them in our services.
    The Parkers were good-hearted people and fairly recent converts.  Sister Parker, in a humble way, told us of a learning experience she had as a new convert.  She had a dream.  In that dream, she saw the Savior and her was speaking to her.  The only problem was she couldn’t hear what he was saying. 
    Next Sunday, the Brandon Branch President made one of his periodic visits to their Sunday School in Dauphin.  She shared her dream with him, both as a spiritual experience but also wondering about the hearing problem.  He listened intently to her story, then looked her in the eye and asked, “Sister Parker, are you still drinking your tea.” 
    She thought this was a great lesson that convinced her to fully keep the Word of Wisdom.
    My new companion was Elder Hampton, from Shelley Idaho.  (I do not recall his first name.)  I was the senior.  I had been out for eight months and he less.  Generally we got along, but I thought that sometimes he lacked judgement and was too argumentative.  Once in our tracting we were invited into the home of a minister and I had a hard time getting us away because Elder Hampton wanted to argue with the man using Bible scriptures.  Later after we both had moved to different assignments, President Child used in a missionary conference an experience of Elder Hampton’s as an illustration of what not to do in missionary teaching.  He and his companion had been teaching the missionary discussions to a family.  But at one appointment, their minister showed up.  The Elder proceeded to use all of his preparation of Biblical proof texts to demolish the minister’s arguments.  However, the family would no longer let the Elders teach them about the Church.  President Child said that this was a good family–good enough to recognize who had the spirit of contention.
    One day as Elder Hampton and I were tracting, we were invited into the home of fairly young man, who taught me something about our latter-day scriptures.  He was a radio announcer  and also had interest in acting and writing.  He said that he had been acquainted with our missionaries at an earlier time and was impressed with the literary value of some of the written works of our Church.  He asked if we had a copy of Joseph Smith’s story, which we did, and he read a page or so in his expressive and articulate manner and voice.  I was impressed for the first time with the beauty of the Joseph’s wording of his testimony, and I discovered later through reading in the works of latter-day saint scholars Dilworth Rust and Marilyn Arnold much more about the poetic nature and magnificent literary quality of our modern day scriptures. 
    We were living in the basement of a home belonging to a kind man with a Ukrainian ancestry, Mr. Yerama.  In fact, the prior elders had helped him construct this area for a living place.  Just around the corner, we started to get acquainted with a family name Symes, George and Margaret and their two children ages about ten and twelve.
    The Symes, especially the mother, began to really connect to our doctrine.  We were in their home often and taught them the discussions.  They began to attend our Sunday School and decided to be baptized.  The Winnipeg chapel had a baptismal font, so the whole bunch of us traveled on the CNR to conduct these services.  It probably helped that Brother Symes was employed by the Railway, so could travel for free.  We went down on Friday evening, and the four were baptized on 6 Dec 1958, then stayed over to Sunday Services where they were confirmed members on 7 Dec 1958.
    Two years later they came to Salt Lake and I was able to attend a sealing session with them in the Salt Lake temple on the 15 Dec 1960.
    Unhappily something went wrong a few years later with relationships in the little group of members in Dauphin, contention or conflict, and according to some third hand information I received, they left the Church.   I found a record for Brother Syme in FamilySearch, who died in 2008, but no records for a wife and a prohibition against seeing his marriage sealing record and the name of his wife.

Sixth Companion, Elder Rock
    Shortly after these baptisms, Elder Hampton was transferred and replaced by Elder Ronnie Boyd Rock, of Boise, Idaho.  President Child said that he left me with Elder Hampton for so long, because he wanted us to be able experience the success of baptizing this family.  We were together for six months, a full one-fourth of my mission.
    Elder Rock and were together during the two coldest months of 1959, January and February.  The city did not plow the road, they used a drag to smooth out the snow.  I supposed that if you made any kind of indentation, the wind would just fill the space with snow again.  So by Springtime the road would still have snow or ice or slush when the rest of the snow was gone.  The same with sidewalks.  The snow just kept getting higher and higher.  When we walked on the sidewalks toward the end of winter we kept bumping our hats on tree branches.
    At this point we determined that we had tracted Dauphin out, and needed a new place to work, so we select a little town, Gilbert Plains, 30 miles west on the highway to Saskatchewan.  For tranportation there, we thought we would try hitchhiking.  It was a clear, sunny morning, but with a fairly stiff breeze coming from the northwest.  We stood at the edge of the highway for a short time.  No cars were out this morning at all.
    Then I took a close look at Elder Rock, and commented, “You have a white spot on your chin.”  He looked at me and said, “You have a white spot where your ear is sticking our from under your cap.”  We decided that it wasn’t a good day to hitchhike.  When we checked the weather, it was 30 degrees below zero with a 20 MPH wind.  We each covered the white spots with a bare wrist and got safely back to our apartment.  Thankfully the white spots went away with no damage. 
    The next day was a Saturday and Brother Syme volunteered to drive us out to Gilbert Plains.  The car would not run very well, the engine bucked and sputtered, until he put a piece of cardboard in front of the radiator.  Then it ran fine.  We got to Gilbert Plains, found a place where we could room, and during the next week, started our tracting there.  We came back to Dauphin to help with Sunday School on the weekends.
    I was impressed with how careful the residents of Dauphin were to protect themselves against the winter.  They had weather that could kill and tried to avoid travel for any distances.  The CNR was the best way to travel in the winter months.
    Elder Rock was intelligent, humble and faithful.   I loved having him as a companion.  And he lived a wonderful productive life in Boise, Idaho.  I kept some track of him because his uncle Gordon Rock, lived in our Taylorsville ward and neighborhood.

Obituary
    Ronnie Boyd Rock passed away peacefully on December 24, 2019. He was 81 years old. He is survived by his wife and eternal companion, Jean Ashliman Rock, children Douglas Rock (Christina Glassmeyer Rock), David Rock (Jennifer Blankenbiller Rock), Kathy Rock Affleck (Adam Affleck), Lahni Rock Castellano (Patrick Castellano), Brian Rock (Wendy Voyles Rock), and 20 wonderful grandchildren.
    Ron was born on June 27, 1938, the second of four children, to Farrell and Ethel Sommer Rock. He spent his childhood years helping on the family farm in Hibbard, Idaho, and excelling with his studies and schoolwork. He and his sister, Joan, performed public readings and competed nationally in debate competitions.
    Ron graduated from Ricks College and then obtained his Bachelor and Juris Doctorate degrees with honors from The University of Idaho.
    While attending college, Ron began dating Jean Ashliman and the two were married for time and all eternity in the Idaho Falls Temple.
    Ron began his legal career as a trial lawyer with the Boise law firm of Moffatt, Thomas, Barrett & Blanton and stayed with Moffatt Thomas for his entire professional career.
    A devout Christian and a man dedicated to service, Ron served for two years as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in northern Minnesota and south-central Canada. Ron would later serve the church as Bishop, Stake President, and Stake Patriarch.  After retiring from his profession, Ron and Jean served together as missionaries for a year and a half in Birmingham, England. Ron was an Eagle Scout and served for many years on the Executive Board of the Boy Scouts of America.   
    Ron loved attending his children's and grandchildren's musical performances and sporting events and also spending time traveling and enjoying life with his Sweetheart.
    A viewing will take place at Relyea Funeral Chapel, 318 N. Latah St., Boise, on Friday, December 27, 2019, from 6:00-8:00pm. Funeral services will be held Saturday, December 28, 2019, at the LDS meetinghouse on 12040 West Amity Rd., Boise, with a viewing at 10:00 am and the service to begin at 11:00 am. Interment to be held after the service at Dry Creek Cemetery, Boise. All are welcome to attend.  (Idaho Statesman, Friday, December 27, 2019)

Fourth Area–Winnipeg, Manitoba, Seventh Companion, Elder Jensen

    I transferred down to Winnipeg in March 1959, and my new companion was Elder Ed Clark Jensen, from Coalville, Utah.   He had been out for about three months when we were assigned together.
    As I mentioned above, The North Central States Mission seemed to a tracting mission.  It was so focused upon tracting that missionary reporting and accountability processes seemed to give emphasis to tracting.  I recall visits by the traveling elders, in which they looked very exactingly at our statistics, that in our reporting how many first visits (these were homes that we were able to enter and give a introductory presentation on the Bookof Mormon or Josephs Smith’s first vision each month) to did we have in comparison to follow-up visits.  We got high marks for first visits, also the ratio of later visits to first visits of course.  In the monthly reports we saw and were able to make comparisons with every companionship’s visit statisitics. 
    There were four sets of Elders in Winnipeg which we divided into four districts.  Elder Jensen and I had the northeast quadrant.  The major transportation resource was the trolley, buses that were powered by electricity from overhead lines.  I recall several occasions as we were walking to or from the area in which we were knocking on doors in our district, to see a bus go by carrying Elder Newland and Elder Nelson.  In our area!!  What were they doing traveling in our area?  We arrived at a sense that they weren’t very obedient to mission rules.  Interestingly, of our four companionships, they were the only pair that were baptizing. 
    A couple of years later, while attending the Salt Lake Temple, I looked across the room and recognized Elder Newland.  My first thought was, “I’m surprised to see a person like you, who stretched mission rules, in the temple.”  I dropped that thought and was able to have a friendly visit with him after the session, and over time have grown to appreciate his wisdom.  He said that at a certain point in his mission, he had an interesting insight, that Church members in the branches he were working with, might be able to steer us to friends or acquaintances that would be interested learning about in the Gospel.  They began to spend a substantial amount of their time in seeking out member referrals and this led to several baptisms.
    I asked him about the visit statistics and he said that the traveling elders had given he and his companion a lot of flak about their poor showing regarding numbers of first visits and visit ratios.
    Elder Jensen had been a football player at USU, a fullback.  I understood from him that the coach was quite displeased with him about his decision to serve a mission.  He had a football injury that became the subject of one of my most memorable and spiritual mission experiences:
A Healing while a Missionary
     Recently as I scanned through the Deseret News, on the obituary page I saw the name of one of my missionary companions, Ed Clark Jensen.  I lost track of him after I left the mission field, unfortunately, and this was the first time I had heard of him since we had been missionaries.  He was a new elder assigned to me as we served in Winnipeg, Manitoba in the Spring of 1959, as a I recall.  He was humble and motivated and I liked him a lot.  While together, we shared a very tender experience, one that taught me much and that I might call foundational to my spiritual life.
     Elder Clark was from Coalville, Utah, had been a football player in High School, a fullback, and had a football scholarship to play for Utah State, but with the strong disapproval of his coach, had determined to serve a mission.  As we worked together in a mission that emphasized tracting door to door, he had increasing pain in an ankle, and had difficulty walking.  We eventually consulted with President Child about this who had us visit a medical doctor, who took x-rays, and determined that Elder Clark was suffering from the results of a football injury, perhaps a series of an ankle sprains, and had calcium deposits in his ankle joint causing the pain when he walked.  The doctor recommended surgery to clean out the joint.  President Child consulted with Elder Clark’s family back in Utah and they made arrangements for the operation, to be performed by a Winnipeg surgeon. 
     On the morning of the surgery, we rode the city bus, as usual, to the hospital.  There was quite a lot of concern for Elder Clark on the part of all of the missionaries in our district, he was popular with the other elders, and the Winnipeg area companionships all gathered at his bedside.  It had been determined that we would administer to him that morning, so when all of the elders had arrived, we proceeded with the ordinance.  One of the elders was selected to anoint, than I was to seal the anointing.  I do not recall the words, but as I spoke to him I had the sensation of a literal flowing of some element from my hands through my fingertips into his body.  I felt light-headed as if I would faint, and quickly closed the blessing and staggered backward into a chair.  It seemed to me that the other Elders did not even notice my absence and continued to crowd around him, offering encouragement and support.
     After a short time I recovered enough to excuse myself and I caught the bus back to our apartment.  I went to our room and still feeling exhausted, lay down on the bed and went to sleep.  I was awakened a couple of hours later by Elder Clark coming into the room.  He reported that the doctors had decided to take one more set of x-rays prior to operating and that the x-rays had not shown the presence of any deposits or problems in his ankle.  He was entirely without pain, and, to my knowledge, was not bothered with these problems the remainder of our time together and through the remainder of his mission.
     I thought about this experience a great deal and wondered at the flowing sensation and how it seemed to take my strength away.  This was new and unusual to me.  I found some commonality later as I read of the woman who touched the hem of the Savior’s garment and was healed, in Mark 5 and Luke 8.  Jesus asked who touched him and said, “Somebody hath touched me; for I perceive that virtue is gone out of me” (Luke 8:46).
     This was a once in a lifetime experience for me, and I have sometimes wished it could have been replicated as I have administered to others, particularly loved ones who were suffering.  But still, there was something tangible and substantial about this happening that I cannot interpret in any other way than that God had this one time made me instrument in His purposes, to enable a fine young elder to continue in his missionary service.
     Robert E. Lewis blog, January 2019

    Tracting wasn’t all bad.  While tracting, we met a lady, Mrs. Mauch (pronouced Moke), who was friendly and wanted to see us.  We learned her history, that in her youth her family had been converts of a Reorganized Church missionary.  Bu she had lost contact with that church many years before.  She believed in the Book of Mormon.  We visited with her and taught her.  I understand that she was baptized a few months after I had left he area.
    One day we knocked on a door in our area and the young mother invited us in a very friendly manner.  She then told us that she and he husband had joined the Church as converts several years before, but that they had just gotten out of the habit of attending.  We made friends with this couple and they responded willingly to our encouragement to start back to church.
    They also had a son who was eight years old but unbaptized.  We began to work with him to get him ready for baptism.  And he was soon baptized, but before that happened, I was transferred to Austin, Minnesota.
    Here is more information about Elder Jensen’s life, from his obituary and FamilySearch memories:
    Ed Clark Jensen, 1938-2018, passed through the veil into the welcoming arms of his family on December 22, 2018 in Draper, Utah while his daughter was holding him.  Ed was born April 3, 1938 to the cozy home of Edmond C. Jensen and Jane LaRue Clark Jensen.  Literally, Ed was born at home where he resided until he left for college, it was a loving home with a rich heritage behind the structure and still stands at 70 South Main Street in Coalville, Utah.  He attended school at North Summit Elementary and graduated in 1956 from North Summit High School, a school system where both of his parents were decorated and appreciated teachers.  Surrounded by grandparents, aunts, uncles, a lot of cousins and a community of hard working, fun loving folks, Ed’s life was filled with good neighbors and family love.  From a very young age Ed enjoyed collecting coins, riding the bike he shared with his sister, playing king of the mountain on the back porch with his dad, watching the trains go through the valley with hobos on them, fishing, playing with frogs and snakes, dragging main street when he could because his dad thought it was a waste of gas money when a date would be a preferable way of socializing, playing cowboy and Indians in the Coalville Ledges, and searching for arrow heads and any artifacts left by the native Indians who had inhabited the area.  Along with his good friend Don Wright they had a pet owl that used to ride around on their shoulder for an entire summer.  Ed adored his Grandma Lizzy and took her on a camping trip when he was 16 and she was in her late 70s… he zipped her up in a sleeping bag and helped her put her hair up in curlers when she was going blind.  He loved the meals she fixed him and teasing her and hearing her laugh.  He was an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was a fabulous teacher at a young age and earned many perfect attendance awards.  FFA (Future Farmers of America) taught Ed many of the skills he later used owning and operating his family ranch and farm in Redmond, Utah.  He earned many ribbons for the livestock he raised at the FFA competitions.  Ed recollecting his family’s trip to Chicago to watch the White Sox play the New York Yankees is filled with the fearless yet simple spirit the family embodied.  Karma was only 16 and drove them some of the time.  They cheered for Minnie Minosa, Yogi Berra and Mickey Mantle.  They ate Wisconsin Cheese and saw a big man carrying a large # 3 tub hollering out across the crowd and selling his goods.  It was quite a fabulous journey for the crew from Coalville.  Unbeknown to them some years later Ed would serve his mission in America’s heartland.  They also traveled through San Francisco into the Redwood Forest.  The most remarkable event Ed recalled from that adventure was the police officer who hopped on the front of their big bumper and negotiated Big Ed through the traffic and onto the Oakland Bridge.  The officer had spied an out of state license plate and helped out the weary travelers.  Ed cherished his father, Big Ed, who was one of his football and basketball coaches.  Together they, along with a lot of other fine young men in the community, made quite a team, and Ed was awarded Most Valuable Football Player in the State of Utah for his athletic accomplishments in 1955.  The sports editor from the Deseret News, Jim Grebe, wrote this of Ed, “ A Bull dozing back who was a wondrous weapon for the Braves all season.  He had great power and excellent breakaway speed on offense.  On defense he ruled as an outside linebacker.”  Ed graduated and after receiving many scholarship offers he chose to attend Utah State University on a Football scholarship, the same place his father had an incredibly successful career in football during the 1920s  and earned the right to play in Hawaii at the East West Shriners Game.
    Little Ed played as full back in college until during his Sophomore year his football dreams were ended during the Iowa State vs. Utah State game when he sustained a back injury.  When he turned 21 Ed served his mission and met some of the coolest people ever in the North Central States mission (Minnesota, Wisconsin and Winnipeg, Canada were mainly the areas he served in) from January 1959- January 1961.  Ed served as a Branch President during his mission, which was a unique opportunity for him, he learned to completely serve his branch members and enjoy his close relationship with his mission president.  These leadership skills were used the rest of his life as he served in numerous bishoprics and as a member of the planning and zoning commission.  Shortly upon returning from his mission Ed served in the US Army as a medic and was stationed in San Antonio, Texas at the Brooks Army General Hospital.  In San Antonio he was attending church, which is where he met Treba Irvin and married her that same year.  Treba brought two beautiful children, Darla Kay (9 years old) and Daryl Keith Essey (8 years old) into their marriage. They married on December 27, 1961 and soon moved to Coalville, Utah.  They welcomed another child into their family on January 26th 1963, Pamela Faye.  Their marriage was solemnized in the Salt Lake Temple that same year in October.  Ed liked exploring nature and traveling when possible.  By the time Pamela graduated from High School she had been to 25 states, Mexico and Canada.  Ed & Treba always had a garden ( even this year!) and they shared fresh produce and irrigated the land until this very autumn season.
    They were an incredibly industrious couple.  Treba working for the Department of Transportation the majority of her work years and they continue to be landlords their entire lives together!  Ed retired at age 56 from a 30-year career as a heavy machine operator and machinist at Kennecott Copper he was always considered a valued employee.  He was a frugal man and saved to purchase rental properties and farm land.  One of his favorite sayings was “they aren’t making any more land so get what you can while you can” a month after he retired he moved to his beloved ranch in Redmond and ran his ranch/ farm for 20 years.
    Family reunions were a highlight for Ed and he would travel from Canada to other remote areas to be with family.  Grandchildren were the grandest part of Ed’s life.  He adored each one from Elliot, who made him a grandpa at age 35 to the arrival of Andrik 10 years ago.  Each child was dear to him and he spent hours understanding them and their lives and their views of the world.  Ed was capable of genuinely loving many people. Ed loved the lord and was a dedicated member of many bishoprics, presidencies and was the best writer and supporter of missionaries as he wrote weekly to many missionaries.  He adored his sister and had a happy and fun loving relationship with Karma Jane and her amazing family.
     Ed is survived by his dedicated loving wife and caregiver to the very end; Treba Irvin Jensen.  Yesterday they celebrated 57 years together;  his daughter, Pamela Faye Jensen Bingham with his son-in-law Dr. Tab Bingham and their four children ; Austin Jensen Bingham (Christina) , Jessica Faye Bingham Kehl ( Bryan), Vance Clark Moose Bingham (Kiersten) , Mitchell Bartlett Bingham, and four precious great grandchildren Jayda Faye Kehl, Cruz Bingham Kehl, Isabella Wynn Bingham, and Jersey Faye Kehl. Ed is survived by his adored step son Daryl Keith Essey, who still lives at the Ranch in Redmond working as a mental health therapist, and Daryl’s three sons Elliot Essey, Kien Essey, & Andrik Essey;  Grandchildren from Darla Essey Dickerson : Justin Brandt Dickerson ( Courtney) and their children Mia and Josh, Brandon Kyle Dickerson ( Erika) and their children Stellen and Lane Robert, and Kyla Faye Dickerson.  Ed is survived by his cherished older sister and life long friend Karma Jane Jensen Larsen and dear brother-in-law Lawrence Ray Larsen as well as Ed’s many dear nieces and nephews.
    Ed was preceded in death by his grandparents Elizabeth Bagnell Clark, Joseph Clark, Elvina Matilda Jorgensen Jensen, and Charles Jensen; his parents Edmond C. Jensen, Jane LaRue Clark Jensen; nephew Burke Ray Larsen; step daughter Darla Kay Dickerson;  and dear cousins Joe Blonquist, Johnny Clark, Alf Blonquist, Linda Clark Lewis, Gweneth Crane, Rueleen Shepherd, Bonnie Veater , Douglas Black, Venilu Hall, Robert Black, and Debbie Jensen.
    In celebration of Ed’s life and Grandma Treba being married with him for 57 years yesterday these services will be followed by a lovely luncheon where you may share your favorite happy memory with Ed and Treba… so be thinking and while we are eating we will share some fun memories.
    Funeral services will be held 11 a.m., Friday, December 28, 2018 at the Coalville Stake Center, 40 North Main St. in Coalville, UT, where a viewing will be held Friday 10-10:45 a.m. Graveside service will be Friday 2:30 p.m. at the Coalville Cemetery.
    Elder Jensen served with me four months, from April 1959 through July 1959.

Fifth area–Austin, Minnesota, eighth companion, Elder Anthon
    At the end of July 1959, I was transferred to what was about the farthest south district in the mission, less than 10 miles from the Iowa border.  Austin was home to Hormel's corporate headquarters, a factory that makes most of North America's SPAM tinned meat, and the Spam Museum (“You can tell by the smell it’s Hormel”).  People living there would joke about the Hormel company’s advertising slogan in those days, when the wind shifted and the processing plant aroma was very noticeable.
    My junior companion was Elder Robert Anthon, for Springville, Utah.  One of his accomplishments was having worked for one of the first pizza places in Provo, and having acquired the skill to finish preparation of pizza dough by flipping and rotating it in the air with his hands.
    He was confident and out going.  One coincidence that was interesting was that before his mission he had dated a girl at BYU who had previously dated another missionary who was currently serving in the North Central States Mission.  He said that she told him that she was a major influence on getting this other brother to serve a mission.  She told the elder that she wouldn’t marry him unless he served a mission, but her major motive behind this was to get him out of her life.  It turned out that this other missionary was my old long-term companion in Dauphin. 
    Here is Elder Anthon’s obituary:
    Robert Edward Anthon, 53, passed away Wednesday Dec. 9th, 1992 in Salt Lake City, UT.  He was born Jan. 20th, 1939 in Provo, UT.  Son of Neils Foster Anthon and Eliza Donetta Hair. Married Gail Pickering June 19th, 1964 in the Salt Lake Temple.
    Robert was an active LDS Church member, and held numerous positions in the church during his life.  He served a full-time LDS mission to the North Central States Mission.  He was a very well known insurance agent both in Bountiful and Salt Lake area.
    Robert was a loving, generous and devoted husband and father who met life's challenges with tremendous purpose, enthusiasm and energy.
    He is survived by his wife Gail Pickering Anthon, his sister Rhea Mae Anthon Slick, son Clark Edward Anthon, daughter Cherise Anthon Armstrong, and husband Bryant Lee Armstrong, and granddaughter, Robyn Ashley Armstrong.
    Funeral services will be held Saturday, Dec. 12th at 1 p.m. at the Lakeview LDS Ward, 435 S 1200 E.  Friends may call Friday evening 7-9 p.m. at Russon Brothers Mortuary, 295 N Main, Bountiful or at 11 a.m. on Saturday at the church.  Interment, Lakeview Cemetery.

    I was released from my mission on October Conference Friday and flew back to Salt Lake.  Dorothy was at BYU and was staying with a roommate who was from Kearns.  They picked me up at the Salt Lake airport late Friday night.  We went back to Provo the next day.  School at BYU had already started but I was able to late-register on Monday and was in classes the next day.

Final Note
    Reconstructing the record of my young mission has been difficult, mostly from the perspective and memory of over 60 years.  I always found journaling difficult and stopped that after a couple of months.  I have never in my life be able to dash off a quickly written piece– I always have had to think through and compose and then revise my words multiple times to get a product that communicates and that I feel good about.  I wrote home weekly but these letter have been lost, maybe in moves of my mother, but possibly that she gave them to me and I lost them.
    As I review what I have written in this chapter, I am disappointed that spiritual elements of my missionary service do not shine through more strongly.  The mission was, as suggested by Elder Hunter in his blessing, difficult in terms of teaching success.  For the most part, I now believe that I was successful in living the mission rules, although it took me some time to come to that conclusion and feel OK about there being times when I could not quite arise as six and be ready to knock on doors at nine.  I received considerable growth in my relationship skills and may have bumped off a rough corner or two as I lived with these eight companions.
    I solidified my knowledge of the gospel, I learned to love the scriptures and be competent in my understanding and their use. 
    Certainly I grew in confidence in many ways, such as teaching the gospel, meeting people, in travel.  I felt equal in my Church background to young men who had been members all of their lives.  I left the mission field feeling confidence that I could move forward in school and career and life with success.
    Perhaps most important, there were foundational spiritual experiences, revelations, healings, directions, that I have been able to call to remembrance as needed throughout my lifetime.
    I am grate to my Heavenly Father for helping me to be able to serve and supporting me through this wonderful period of my life.