Protection in the Desert

San Jose to Utah to Southern California, July 1987:

Tim, Amy, and I drove to Utah to deliver Tim at BYU Swim Camp. While there, we visited with Brenda Kent and Holly Hart and their kids.

After our week in Utah we headed for Southern California. We stopped in Cedar City, Utah, for gasoline, and the attendant noticed my tires were really low. On closer inspection, he found a cut in one of my tires! Another tire was very bald, so I purchased two new tires.

As we were driving across the desert to Las Vegas, the red light indicator came on indicating the car was over-heating. I stopped in Las Vegas for gas and had the attendant check the radiator. The whole thing bubbled hot, steamy water all over the station!

The attendant then babbled something about a cracked block and pointed to what he said was oil in the carburator. I could see dollar signs lighting up in his eyes and decided THAT station would not fix my car.

I got on the phone (a pay phone!) and started calling radiator shops. It was 4:30 on a Saturday afternoon. No one wanted to look at my radiator!

Finally, I found an old man on the outskirts of town who said he would check it out. I limped the car to his shop and we left the car in his care. It was so hot, it had to have been 115 degrees outside. Tim, Amy, and I melted from the heat. I looked up and down the road for a grocery store, fast-food chain, any place to get out of the heat. The only respite I could find was an ice company across the street. We purchased a bag of ice for one dollar, walked across another street to a trailer park with one scrawny tree, and sat in our postage stamp spot of shade. We crunched on ice and read for a while.

Two hours later, we paid the man $85 for cleaning and patching the radiator. Then, we set off again for Newport Beach, and finally arrived about 1:00 AM.

It was a long journey, but I really felt the hand of the Lord, guiding us and inspiring us to take care of problems while we were in a city, rather than break down in the middle of the desert with no food, no water, no phone, and no help. It could have been devastating, but the Lord watched out for us.

The Tale of Tim's Bike

Marina, California, about 1982-1984:

Tim left his bike outside our home and when he went to get it, it was gone. Apparently, someone stole it because bikes just don't roll away without someone pushing or pedaling them. It was distinctive enough, that every time we went somewhere, we looked for Tim's bike.

Just when we'd about given up and accepted the fact the bike was gone forever, we were driving down one of the streets of Marina on the other side of the highway. We passed an apartment complex and spotted a soldier riding a bike across the parking lot.

Tim said, "Hey! That's my bike!" I immediately turned our van around, pulled into the parking lot, shut off the engine, and jumped out.

I stopped the guy on the bike and said, "Excuse me." He got off the bike and stood up. He was over six feet tall - a very big guy. I tipped my head back, looked up at him, and said, "Where'd you get the bike?"

He said, "It belongs to my neighbor." I said, "No, it doesn't. It belongs to my son."

Before the guy had time to think about what I said, I grabbed the bike, opened the side door on the van, shoved the bike in, got in the van, and drove away. We got it back!

Lesson Learned: I may be small, but I can still carry a big stick. Nobody messes with my kids or their stuff!

Thanksgiving 2009

2051 N. 1100 East, Lehi, Utah, 84043

26 November 2009:

Where is heaven? Is it very far? From time to time I get glimpses of heaven. For example, our family came together this year for Thanksgiving.

Tim, Annie, Allie, Sammy, and Ethan Werle drove from southern California.

Corey, Sue, Tyler, Bradley, Katelyn, and Breanna Werle came from Sherwood, Oregon.

Amy, Wade, Nathan, Erica, and TJ Roskelley, and also Sarah, Trevor, Maddie, and Michael Kimmel came from across town. We had a total of 12 grandchildren here.

During the week we made a snowman, swam, searched for elves, watched cliff divers at the Mayan restaurant, ate lots of good food, and some even went geocaching.

It was wonderful to have the family together again. THAT was and will always be heaven to me.

Three Meal Deal

San Jose, California, 1972:

Tom was going to school at San Jose State University and our financial resources were very limited. Our ward had a little grocery store where we could order cases of canned food at a reasonable price. We wanted to build up our year's supply of food to be prepared for whatever might come. We didn't have much money, so we ordered three cases of food: (1) Pork and Beans (2) Chicken Chow Mein and (3) Boxed Macaroni and Cheese.

Soon after we picked up our cases, we had bills come due that put an extra strain on our budget. Those three cases pulled us through. Each night we rotated through one of the three things for dinner. Over time there was no variety, but we had food to eat.

It was a simple thing to do based on our understanding that we needed to be prepared. We saw the immediate result of our obedience to the teachings. We survived.

Connecting in Kalamth Falls

Bruce and I had spent Christmas with my mother in Southern California. We were supposed to drive back to Portland Oregon a few days after Christmas but we didn’t have to get back right away. We toyed with leaving on Tuesday or Wednesday, and finally decided upon leaving on Tuesday and rather than take our normal Interstate 5 route, we’d instead drive up the middle of the state and stop in Lancaster, California, to see my brother, Chris, who was racing go-carts at a track there.

We left Southern California early Tuesday morning and reached the race track sometime mid-day. We drove to the entrance gate and were disappointed to discover that they were charging $10 entrance fee per person. We had not planned to spend very long at the track, just long enough to visit with Chris and maybe watch him race once. We didn’t want to pay the $20 (I know. We’re cheap.) So we left the track without seeing Chris and drove on.

We reached Reno about dinner time and decided to eat at a buffet that we like. Normally, there is no line for this buffet, but this night we had to wait in a line to be seated. We spent about two hours at the restaurant eating everything we could.

We decided to look for a motel for the night, and if we found one cheap enough, we’d spend the night there. After calling several hotels and discovering their prices were more than we wanted to pay, we headed for Southern Oregon.

As we approached Klamath Falls, Bruce remarked that he would love to be able to find his brother, Allen, who had moved there several years ago. Bruce had lost Allen’s phone number (this was before the Internet for searching) and didn’t know how he was going to find Allen.

We stopped for gasoline in Klamath Falls about 2:00 AM. It was my turn to drive, so Bruce got into the passenger seat, but my water had spilt and Bruce had to clean it up before he could sit down.

As we finally pulled out of the gas station, I had to wait for a pickup truck passing us on the street. Bruce looked up and said, “That looks like Allen’s truck! Catch up to it at the next light!” The truck stopped at the light and we pulled up beside it. Bruce looked into the cab of the truck and . . . (drum roll) it was Allen!

He looked over at us and was just as surprised as we were. We both pulled over to the curb and got out of our cars. We asked what he had been doing out in the cold December air at 2:00 in the morning. He responded that he wanted to know how cold it was and there was a thermometer on the Bank of America building, so he drove to the bank to see the temperature! Huh??? It didn't make sense to us, but there we were visiting with him.

Allen asked what route we were going to take back to Portland and then advised us of a safer route through the snow covered mountains. He and Bruce chatted for a while and then we left.

As we drove back to Portland we were amazed by how many variables had been in our trip that could have set us forward or back by even two minutes, and then we would have missed meeting Allen. BUT, Heavenly Father knew our needs. He knew Allen’s needs, and he planned for a way for us to get together.

I know he knows each of us so personally that he provides a way for people to be placed in our path to help us with whatever we need.

It's All How You Look At It

Newport Beach, California: 1961:

During my sixth grade year at Horace Ensign Junior High, I went through a really awkward stage. I played kickball, softball, volleyball, and basketball, but with each sport, I could not hit the ball! I was so uncoordinated!

I also felt ugly. I had braces to straighten my teeth and had to wear a head gear each night. Thus, there was no ability to sleep with rollers in my hair. [This was before electric curlers or curling irons]. The result? My hair hung like a limp rag.

For class I sat at the right side of the room on the front row. Even though I was in the front, I could not read the blackboard. I thought the glare from the sun on the board prevented me from seeing what was written on it.

The school nurse called me into her office for her annual vision screening. She asked me to read the eye chart. The only thing I could find was the big "E," and IT was blurry. The nurse was so surprised. She asked why I wasn't wearing glasses. I didn't know I needed glasses!

I thought everyone saw the way I saw things. For instance, I didn't think people could recognize faces in a crowd. I couldn't, so I had adopted a system to recognize people. When I wanted to find my mother in a crowd, I'd look for the color she was wearing.

When I was told I needed glasses, I was devastated. Here I was already ugly, and now with glasses I would be even uglier. I went home and cried. My mom took me to the eye doctor and I ordered a pair of glasses tailored to my vision. The day after my glasses arrived, I went to school, sat at my desk, put my glasses on, and voila! I could read the chalkboard, even with the sun shining on it. It didn't help my image, though. I would not be the beauty queen. On the plus side, however, I could finally see all that I had been missing. Some things are more important.

It wasn't until years later when I was writing my "life story" that it dawned on me that the reason I was so uncoordinated at that time was because I could not SEE the ball to hit it! Wish I'd figured that out at the time. I would have felt somewhat better about myself.

As with needing glasses, sometimes we don't know when we're missing something in our life. Maybe it's something that will help us see our own lives more clearly. We can adapt to help us see better, but it may not do what a pair of glasses will do for us. Sometimes, even when it doesn't help our image, we need to stop and put on the glasses in order to see clearly.

Happy Birthday Amy!

Seaside, California, 20 November 1973:

I can still remember this day so well. I was expecting our new baby on November 1, 1973. Back then, we had no idea what sex the baby would be, but we only had one name picked out, a girl's name. The waiting game had begun.

Around November 5, my mother phoned me. She'd had a dream that I had given birth and the baby was born with two teeth! Mom was VERY surprised to find me at home, when, according to her, I should have been at the hospital. Obviously, I hadn't had the baby yet.

We waited . . . and waited some more. Over the next couple of weeks, I had a couple of small contractions, but nothing happened.

THREE WEEKS LATER! My labor started early on Tuesday morning, November 20. About 6:00 AM we dropped Tim off at Brenda Kent's home and then checked in at Monterey Community Hospital. Amy Lynn Werle was born at 10:00 AM. She was perfect in every way - even had a full head of black hair! That was a surprise. What a doll!

I can remember when the doctor put Amy in my arms - I'd found heaven. She was and still is heaven to me. I'm glad I got picked to be her mother. THAT is a great blessing. Happy Birthday, Amy!

Tofu Quiche

San Jose, California, about 1986:

I loved to watch cooking shows on the television: Yan Can Cook, Laurels' Kitchen, etc. I was so impressed with the healthy recipes on Laurel's Kitchen that I purchased her cookbook and set to work recreating these dishes for my family. Laurel was big into tofu. Back then, I could not purchase tofu in the grocery store, but had to go to the Chinatown part of the city to get it. Also, it was not as tasty as the tofu we have today.

I decided to make a Tofu Quiche from Laurel's book. Excitedly, I followed the recipe with precision. It was going to be great. Bear in mind, we'd never eaten quiche before, but we were willing to give it a try.

When the quiche was done, I pulled it from the oven, called the family to dinner, and we sat down at the table to eat. Tom was going to be late, so we started without him.

I served up a slice to each family member, we said a prayer, and plunged into our pie. It was TERRIBLE! YUCK! It was so bad, I couldn't eat it. If I wasn't willing to eat it, I couldn't make my family do it.

I decided we needed to forget the quiche. We left it on the table, and piled into the car and went to McDonalds for dinner. THAT was much tastier.

Tom returned from home, spotted the quiche, and dug in. He LOVED it! I couldn't believe it. It just goes to show, one man's cottage may be another man's castle.

Tim Lost in Salinas

Marina, California, 1976:

When Tim was 4, and Amy 2, I was the ward Primary President. As part of my duties, I was also Chairman of the Cub Scout Pack Committee. In preparation for a pack meeting, I needed to drive to Salinas (about 10 miles east) to purchase cub scout achievement awards.

We had other errands to run while in Salinas, so Tom and I piled the kids in the back seat of our tiny Honda Civic (hatchback). We drove to the scout office. Tim wanted to stay in the car and sleep, but he wanted us to wake him up when we got to the grocery store. We consented, so he climbed into the hatchback part and stretched out pulling a blanket over his head. This was in the day (I know, so hard to believe we were in the dark ages with no seat belts, and no child safety seats!)

Tom, Amy, and I went into the scout office. purchased the awards, and went back to the car. Amy climbed in the back seat.

Tom and I got in the front seats and, as we began to drive away, Amy was very distressed. She said, "Where's Timmy?" I said, "He's in the back under the blanket. Don't bother him. He wants to sleep."

Amy was still distressed, "But I can't see him."

I soothed, "Don't worry, Amy. He's under the blanket.

Her tiny two-year old voice again said, "But I can't see him."

Tom and I figured we knew more than Amy, so we drove to the post office and then to the grocery store.

When we arrived at the store, Tom opened the hatchback, lifted the blanket, and . . . said, "He's not here!"

Amy was right! She knew her brother was missing. We wished we had listened to her!

We rushed back to the scout office and ran inside. He wasn't there! We scanned the neighborhood. There was a Masonic hall across the street with a "C" on the building. I looked at the glass front doors and spotted Tim standing inside holding a police officer's hand!

I walked up the steps opened the door and hugged Tim and explained that we thought Tim was asleep in the back of the car. The officer looked at our tiny Honda Civic and said skeptically, "You thought he was asleep in the back of the car." I said, "Yes!" Then, I took Tim by the hand and hurried out of the building, hoping I wasn't going to be arrested for child endangerment!

In explanation, Tim told us he'd thought the "C" meant cub scouts and he went looking for us there. He had walked in on a ladies luncheon. They were sure they had an abandoned child on their hands, so they called the police.

The moral to the story: Listen when your children they tell you something is wrong. They may be right!

Finding Sarah - A Needle in the Haystack

Beaverton, Oregon, about 1988:

We had gone as a family to the Air Show at Hillsboro. About 40,000 other people were also there. It was very crowded, but we wanted to see the airplanes, so we started exploring. We had no cell phones, no emergency plan of where to meet if we got separated.

As we were walking past the planes, one caught our attention and we stopped to look at it. Sarah, about age 9, didn't notice we had stopped, so she kept walking.

By the time we finished looking at the plane, we looked up and noticed Sarah was not there! Alarms went off in my head! Where was she??? Was she ahead of us or behind us? Where could we look? It was a mass of people and she was so small!

Tom and I split up. He went back the way we had come and I ran ahead looking for her. My heart was racing, the adrenaline pumping as I scanned the crowd in every direction. What if someone took her? No one in the crowd would know! I said a very earnest prayer. If anyone needed help from God, I did.

Shortly after my prayer, I spotted Sarah. What relief! I was overcome by waves of emotion. Sarah was upset at being lost. I had been scared, too.

Thankfully, this story has a happy ending. God had answered my prayer.

Moral to the story: Any time you go somewhere as a family, plan a meeting place in case you get split up. . . . or arm them with cell phones! Above all, God hears and answers our earnest prayers.

The Case of The Flying Eraser

Marina, California, about 1979:

Tom was working at the fire station and I had put the kids to bed. It wasn't long before Tim came out claiming Billy was crying because there was an eraser in his nose. Huh? An eraser, you know, the kind on the end of a pencil if you break if off the pencil.

So, what's an eraser doing in Billy's nose? Tim said he threw it in the air and it LANDED in Billy's nose. Right. Right. Tim threw it in the air. Right . . . It was time to deal with the problem rather than troubleshoot how it happened.

I checked out Billy. Yep. There WAS an eraser in his nose. Now I had the challenge of getting it out. Should be simple enough. I tried to get Billy to sneeze. Didn't work. I got a pair of tweezers and started poking . . . Ooops . . . I shoved it higher. Now what? Not much I could do about it that night. I'd have to deal with it first thing in the morning. I sent everybody to bed, again, and hoped Billy could sleep with this thing in his nose.

The next day I took Billy to our pediatrician. He tried to extricate the eraser, but failed. The doctor sent me to an Ear, Nose, and Throat doc. We went straight there. The nose doc assessed the problem, and called in reinforcements. They put Billy in my lap, and then two other nurses and I held him tight the doctor worked to free the eraser, or was it to free Billy? Whatever it was, it was NO PICNIC. In fact, it was VERY traumatic for everyone. It was a struggle, but the doctor won.

Billy survived. We survived. The moral to the story: Don't try to retrieve objects from your child's nose without expert help. The other moral: Sometimes it's more important to deal with the problem rather than try to get the truth out of the culprit.

$100 Blessings

Marina, California, February 1977:

Our bishop explained that the ward was behind in paying its' assessment for the prior year and asked for each couple to attend a ward dinner and contribute $100. Tom and I didn't have the money. We needed the $100 to make our house payment, but decided to exercise our faith and contribute as requested by the bishop.

We went to the dinner and paid our $100. The very next day our income tax refund arrived in the mail with more than enough money for our house payment.

Sometimes we just have to trust the Lord. He will help us as we do the things he's asks us to do.

Easter Sunday Terror

Tustin, California: Easter, 2 April 1961:

My home in Tustin at 10341 Ladera Senda, Santa Ana, was located in foothills of Tustin, the Cowan Heights neighborhood. The property sat on the crest of the hill. We had a 360 degree view, a six bedroom home with housekeeper quarters, a swimming pool, three car garage, and horse stable with two horses. There had been quite a bit of publicity in the newspapers concerning my father's business, Trust Deed and Mortgage Exchange, so it was no secret that we were well off.

I was ten years old. We were spending a quiet Easter Sunday evening at home, watching some dolphins perform on the television. I think they were playing ball with a baseball team in Florida. I quickly forgot what was on the TV when we heard a knock at the front door and my mother went to answer it.

She opened the door and found two guns pointing at her. The men pushed the door open and walked into the house! My mother immediately fainted, slipping unconsciously onto the slate floor. One would have thought our two watch dogs, a German shepherd named Blitzkreig, and a collie named Duchess, would have rushed to my parents defense. Instead they did not bark. They did not bite. They did nothing!

My father asked what the men wanted. They snarled, "You know what we want!" My father explained that, no, he didn't know, but maybe they could settle it without alarming the whole family. [Too late. We were alarmed! My mother having stirred, was alarmed as well.] They demanded my father's money. My father explained he was smart and didn't store his money at home.

Riley remembers he had been sitting in the family room next to the gun cabinet. Hearing the commotion, he took a shotgun out of the cabinet (he was about age 15), then thought better of it and put the gun back. This was an inspired decision as the robbers were under the influence of drugs, both had guns, and if they'd seen Riley with a shotgun pointed at them, they may have freaked and opened fire on us all.

Determined to find money, the robbers rounded up all six of us children and my mother, ushered us through the master bedroom, and into the master bathroom. The master bathroom had no outside entrance, no windows for escape, but the robbers kept poking their head and gun in the door and counting noses to make sure we were all still there. My brother and I were ready to give up our new bicycles if they'd just leave. Mother gathered us around, we knelt, and prayed for protection.

After our prayer, we listened to the discussion going on in the master bedroom. They said they wouldn't hesitate to slit our throats if my dad didn't give them what they wanted! The bathroom door opened, one of the robbers stuck his head in and told my mom to come out. Dad continued to explain that he had no great sums of money at home. Unbeknownst to me, my father had in fact withdrawn $10,000 from the bank sometime prior to this night of terror, and the cash was stashed in a large paper bag in a cupboard at the top of a floor to ceiling built in bank of drawers! My mother knew about the cash. She was ready to give it to them, but dad gave her a look that told her he did not want the location revealed. So, she remained silent.

They roughed up my dad a lot, kicking and punching him until he was black and blue from his waist to his knees. They ransacked the room. They opened cupboards and drawers and dumped the contents of every drawer onto the floor. They found in my dad's desk his credit cards, check books, and drivers' license. They found my mother's jewelry.

Next, they made my dad and mom lie on the bed, then taped their hands and feet. As they were tying my mother's hands, they spotted her wedding rings and took them off her finger.
While one held the hostages, the other scoured the house. They found my dad's guns from World War II's Nazi Germany. They disconnected our phones by removing a piece from each headset.

They threatened us with our lives if we did not give them at least two hours to get away before we sounded the alarm. Then, they gathered up their booty and left!

As they drove away, Riley ran up the hill to the nearest neighbor to phone the police. Richard untied my mom and dad. Not long thereafter, the police arrived along with the news crews. Many hours were spent interviewing and collecting evidence.

The next morning, the huge story hit the front page of both the Los Angeles Times and the Orange County Register.

The police followed these criminals for three years. They had a man that looked like my father who used my dad's identification to charge a Cadillac in Long Beach! When they were finally caught, it turned out to be a whole ring of men working together.

My dad, mom, Ricky, and I were called to testify in court and identify the men who had robbed us that night. As I was sitting in the witness stand, I could easily pick out as clear as day the two men. The lawyer asked if I could identify them and I said, "Oh yes!" But then, I froze! I was so petrified and afraid for my life that I couldn't remember which ones they were! Apparently the rest of my family didn't get struck by fear, because the men were convicted.

Moral to the story: Sometimes things beyond our control spin our lives out of control. All we can do in those times is to pray for help and protection. God does hear and answers our prayers. He can help us through anything we encounter.

Flights of Fantasy

Marina, California, about 1983:

We took the family to an open house at Ft. Ord. We got to go inside helicopters, trucks, and tanks, and saw many of the neat things the army does.

As we stood in the middle of this big paved area, a helicopter flew overhead and hovered. The rotors pushed the air, woomph, woomph, blowing our hair, throwing sand in our eyes, but as we squinted up at the copter, the doors opened, ropes were lowered, and army men came sliding down the ropes, so fast they were almost on top of each other! It was impressive, very impressive.

I looked over at Billy. His eyes were glazed in I awe of the whole scene. Oh no, I thought! What have I done! That was such an exciting thing, THAT was going to be HIS dream, to rappel down a rope from a hovering helicopter!

I was sure we had made history that day - We were destined to have Billy join the army. That would be the only thing he would want to do with his life. Don't get me wrong. If my sons chose to serve their country, I would be proud, but I would fear for their lives.

Later, I would wonder why Billy would want to jump off the roof of the house onto the trampoline, or off a railroad trestle into a river far below.

Now, that I remember the day at Ft. Ord, I don't have to wonder any more. It's all my fault!

Lesson Learned: Be careful what you expose your children to. It may change their lives.

Endless Pickles

San Jose, California, 1984 - 1988:

I found a recipe to make really good dill pickles. They were juicy and crunchy. Each year we'd get the cucumbers and make a batch of about 12 quart jars.

Usually about once each month, we had the missionaries over for dinner. At the end of each meal, I went out to the garage where we had our jars of home canned products, picked up a jar of pickles and gave it to the missionaries to take home.

When it got down to the point I only had two jars left on the shelf, I still gave them our pickles. I NEVER RAN OUT OF PICKLES, and yet the missionaries continued to come every month, and I gave them pickles every month.

I feel I was being blessed for helping someone else. That which we give away, does bring blessings.

Vegetable Struggles

Marina, California, January 1977:

Oh the struggle of vegetables! I was putting my foot down about the children eating their vegetables. (I know, I know, times are different now, but this was pretty much how children were raised back then. I should have had Amy teaching me how to help my children to eat healthy).

Amy, at age 3, was sweeter than sweet. One time, we were having split pea soup. Amy ate a spoonful. When I asked if it was good, she shook her head "yes," all the time smiling with the food still in her mouth, then immediately vomited! How could I make a child eat something that made them vomit?

In contrast, Tim would make a big, noisy production of the whole thing until we made him go to bed. The rule was: They ate what was on their plate or they were sent to bed - that is, of course, unless they threw up! (Those were the days . . . I'm sorry!)

Billy was happy to try anything, and he loved all of it . . . even tomatoes!

Sarah had eating issues. I can now see why. She and I could not agree on what she should eat. When we were visiting in Southern California, my mother witnessed this struggle and advised me to leave Sarah alone about it. Wise advice which I took. Our home was much more pleasant at meal time after that.

Is there a moral to this story? Do your best and let God take care of the rest.

On Gift Giving: Amy's Fifth Birthday

Amy was going to have a party for her 5th birthday. We didn't have parties for every birthday. Similar to when I was growing up, the children had a party when they turned 5 because they started school, 8 when they could be baptized, and 12 when they got the priesthood. It worked well for my parents' large family, and since times were tight, we decided to continue the tradition.

So in anticipation for Amy's first party we set about preparing in a way that would not tax our slim budget. Amy and I made invitations and delivered them. Then we needed party favors to give out to the guests, so we made homemade play dough in bright colors and put the globs in Cool Whip containers. We made, sewing cards by pasting a page from a coloring book to the cardboard from the back of a cereal box, then punching holes around the image. For the sewing thread, we cut a length of yarn and wrapped the ends with tape.

Amy was so excited about these things she made for her friends, that she totally forgot they were going to give her presents. I was pleased to see her unselfishness.

In the end, it's not about us. It's all about what we do for others. Someone once said, "The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things that you do for others remain as your legacy."

Saturday Night Routine

Marina, California, 1979-1984:

What were you thinking??? Of course you had baths. You just don't remember all of them.

When you were young, we were in the middle of a big drought in California. Water was rationed. To conserve, we put a brick in the toilet tank to displace excess water. We were encouraged by authorities to not flush the toilet every time it was used. (Thankfully, that was discretionary!) We installed low flow shower heads in the showers. Even the water from washing our clothes was drained into the vegetable garden. We used a biodegradable laundry detergent that would not hurt the vegetables. So weekday baths did exist, just not every night if they could be avoided. I bathed you on week nights when you were dirty.

Come Saturday night, however, you were required to take a bath so you would be clean for Sunday. I made such a big deal of the Saturday night baths, that you don't remember the weekday cleanups.

From your perspective now, you only remember the Saturday night baths and not the ones taken during the week.

How similar this is to what we do remember. Do we only remember those things we did on a regular basis, or do we remember the things we did that were not scheduled? How can we keep our memories accurate? Just remember . . . you did take baths.

Wild Indians or Cubs? Billy's 8th Birthday

Marina, California, 12 August 1983:

For Billy's eighth birthday, we made invitations that he took to his cub scout den meeting about a week prior. After delivering about 8 invitations, we received 5-6 RSVP's. The party was scheduled to begin after the next den meeting. Thinking all was under control, we prepared for the party.

Our ideas of a calm party came to a screeching halt when 12 cub scouts ran in the front door for the party! It was bedlam. Chaos reigned.

It was a very LONG couple of hours for the party. I don't remember what we did to entertain them. I only remember it was not enough. They were so charged with energy, I thought I'd have to peel them off the ceiling. In fact, I think they were climbing on the rafters in the garage!

Lesson learned: Never, NEVER again invite the whole cub scout den to a party!

Marina Sand Dunes

Marina, California, about 1980:

Marina, California has a beach is surrounded by steep sand dune cliffs that drop straight into the ocean. We lived not far from the ocean. In fact, as the bird flies, there was just one big sand dune between our home and the water. At times we hiked the dune, but never ventured too far or we'd fall off the cliff.

About one mile away distance was the Marina Beach with a small sandy shore, but the water concealed dangerous riptides and "no swimming" signs were posted. Because of it's location on Monterey Bay, it was also often very windy, foggy, and cold.

To have a real beach experience, we regularly went back to my home in Newport Beach.

One night for Family Home Evening we read the Book of Mormon story in 1 Nephi where Nephi's angry brothers try to throw him off the cliff. Then we drove down to the Marina Beach where the sand dunes are small and re-enacted the scene, playfully pushed each other on the dune.


There are times we only see the sand dunes in our lives and they may be fun to explore for a time. If we continue our journey on the dune and we may not realize that they mask treacherous cliffs that may destroy us. Be safe. Only go where you know it is safe.

Busy Days

Marina, California, Spring-Summer 1980:

It took a lot of energy to keep up with 4 active, healthy children. As they got older and became involved in more outside activities, the days zoomed past fast.


Tim was 8 years old. He had piano lessons, cub scouts, and baseball 3 times a week (twice a week were baseball games).

Amy at 6 participated in Brownies, "Dance and Twirl" (Baton) lessons, and was rehearsing for a play 3 nights a week. She had auditioned for a play at California's First Theater in Monterey and got the part! It's was a melodrama called "Ruined by Drink" and she played a young girl that got very sick. The play ran all summer long for 2 or 3 nights each week. Plus, she was marching in parades that summer with the Dance & Twirl Club.

Billy, 4, was going to Preschool 3 times a week. His class is put on the production "Peter Rabbit" - with Billy playing the part of a vegetable!

Sarah kept me busy just chasing her! She learned where her belly button was, but when I asked her where Billy was, she pointed to her belly button!

I was attending college classes 2 mornings and 2 nights each week. My major was Interior Design. Drafting class was great to challenge my brain to think through problems, and then see them worked out on paper.


Needless to say, some days I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. It was all good, though. All good.

Lost a Wheel

On a Trip to Southern California, 12 February 1982:


As we were driving to Southern California for a long weekend our Volkswagen van broke down again! Previously, we'd broken down two times going there and two times coming home. The Lord was really watching over us this time or we could have been seriously injured. We were going down a steep grade of the San Diego Freeway at 5:30 in the morning when the rear of the car began to shimmy and shake.


Tom pulled to the side of the road and got out to check out the trouble. He discovered the left rear tire had come loose from the axle! The tire never left the car because the tire was higher than the fender. If it had left the car, it would have been very hard to control, possibly even making us skid and roll in front of other trucks and cars. THAT was a miracle.



Though Tom had pulled all the way to the curb, there was little space between the lane of traffic and the car. It was pitch black outside and cars raced by in the dark. Tom sat on the ground (almost in the lane of traffic) and tried to kick the tire back on. It would not budge.


Seeing the cars and trucks racing by within inches of Tom and the van, I thought we'd all be dead by daybreak.


Tim and I walked to a call box (no cell phones in 1982) and phoned for a tow truck. The dispatcher asked if Tim and I were alone. She was concerned because the Hillside Strangler that had not yet been apprehended. I needed to know that! Once Tim and I were back at the car, a police officer stopped by and said for our protection we needed to be inside the car, up in the front (in case a driver plowed into the back of our van)! That was encouraging.


Finally, the tow truck arrived and towed us to a repair shop. We did not die that night, but I'm sure the guardian angels were working overtime. I am grateful for their protection.

Soledad Surprise

Marina, California, about 1982:


After our six months without any car, we purchased a used Volkswagen Pop top Camper (Van). It ran fine for the first couple of years, but then it began to give us trouble. When the engine wouldn't start, we'd push it to get it rolling and then pop the clutch. Other times, the engine overheated and we'd have to shut it down until it cooled.


One time we had traveled in the van to Southern California to visit with my parents. On the trip home we limped the car along Highway 101. When the engine became too hot, we pulled the car off the road. We slowly turned from the exit and drove down a small road, and finally stopped where the road ended.


Knowing we'd have to wait for the car to cool, we piled out of the car, spread a blanket, and munched on Oreo cookies. We tried to lighten the mood by cracking jokes.


As we sat there in good spirits, a man approached us. He told us we needed to move our car, that the people nearby were not known for good behavior. He announced we were on Soledad prison grounds! We had no idea! This was not a joke!


We grabbed our blanket and cookies, jumped into the car, and Tom turned the key, but the engine would not start. It was still too hot. Those that were able piled out of the car and pushed it back down the country road, glad to be safe.

Death of Our Cars

Marina, California, 1978:

I was expecting Sarah when both of our cars died. Neither was worth repairing, the cost too great. We were also facing big medical bills for Sarah's delivery. The fire department where Tom worked only had maternity coverage for "complications" of pregnancy, so we needed to pay both the doctor and hospital bills (about $1000 in total).

We scrapped both cars and paid the bills, but then we had to search for other ways to get places. We lived about eight miles from our ward building, and the city buses did not run on Sundays, so we found a family near our home that had room in their car, and they picked us up each Sunday for church.

For doctor appointments ten miles away, three year old Billy and I took the city bus.

To purchase groceries, I'd walk with the children (about a 3/4 of a mile) pulling our little red wagon with some riding in it on the way to the store. We'd place our purchases in the wagon and the children and I all walked home. (Once Sarah was born, she rode in a backpack on my back).

The Christmas season was a little challenging. I ordered all our gifts from the JC Penny Catalog and had them delivered to our home for a small charge. When we wanted to put up a Christmas tree, we walked a mile and a half to a Christmas tree lot, picked out a tree, and paid for it. Then to get it home we just turned it sideways and carried it on our shoulders!

It was a sacrifice to give up our cars, but in the end we were blessed with healthier bodies from all the walking, appreciation for a car, and after six months, had saved enough money to purchase a Volkswagen van (about $1800).

Meatless Meatloaf

San Jose, California, 1971:


Tom was going to school and money was very tight. Our kitchen table was a large cardboard box covered with a tablecloth. For bookshelves we stacked bricks with planks of wood in between. Our furniture was hand-me-downs. We scrimped everywhere we could, even with our meals.


One memorable day, I had a quarter of a pound of ground beef in the fridge and leftover corn, beans, and rice. I decided to make good use of the leftovers by making a meatloaf! I combined all the ingredients in a mixing bowl, squished it with my fingers, then packed it into a loaf pan. I was so proud of my creation. It had ALL the food groups AND was economical.

After our dinner baked in the oven, and I went to get the meatloaf out of the pan, my bubble burst. Since it had more vegetables and rice than meat, nothing really held it together. It was a big crumbly mess on our plate. It was a disaster. There just was not enough meat in my meatloaf.

I learned from that meatloaf to question if my life is mostly filler with little meat. Do I have more meat-like qualities like dedication, charity, persistence, love, kindness, and less of the fillers like television, computer games, and other time wasters. May we work on adding more meat to our meatloaf lives.

Blessings from Obedience

Seaside, California, about 1974:


I had been taught the principle of paying tithing and believed I needed to do it. When it came to action, however, my faith was lacking. I knew how much money we had coming in and how much was needed to pay our bills. I wanted to be obedient and pay my tithing. Since I knew the tithing check would bounce, I would write the check, but then not turn it in to the bishopric.



After several checks had accumulated on our desk, Tom and I decided to test our faith and turn them in. Two immediate blessings came our way. (1) Tom had applied to be a substitute teacher at the public schools. The district called him to work. (2) Our station wagon had been parked in front of our house and an errant driver plowed into the rear end of it, crushing the back, but it was still operable. The driver's insurance company sent us a check for the damage (which we could keep or use to fix the car). It was more than the amount of our accumulated tithing checks.



Sometimes we're taught a principle that we want to believe, but have trouble applying it in our lives. In those cases, we need to take the first step and obey it. Heavenly Father knows our needs and is waiting to assist us.