Thursday, October 19, 2017



   There she stood, beautiful, in her white wedding dress, with her beautiful white veil and all the other accompaniments for the long awaited wedding.
   And at her side was the young good looking groom, in his white Tuxedo, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to relieve "his case of nerves."
   To more or less make the scene complete, there was a beautiful wedding cake, that could probably feed a small town, sitting in a prominent spot on a nearby table
   They were young and innocent and obviously a little nervous, wondering if everything was in its proper place and ready for the big day?
   Then almost before they could imagine it the wedding ceremony was over and the best man was asked for the wedding ring---BUT it was stuck on the Best Man's finger and he could not get it off. The Groom assured him that if they had to cut it off, "it would not be the RING that they cut! A little hand cream was used, and a few minutes later the ring came off and was put on the bride's finger, and everyone breathed a sigh if relief-----
   THEN HE WOKE UP-- He was 85 years old and had been asleep in his rocker, obviously dreaming of his beautiful bride and their wedding day. The dream was as clear as if it happened just yesterday---- and yes he had a few tears in his eye.
   A lot has happened since that day in February 1956, and the good things have far outnumbered the bad memories, that occasionally sneak in.
   It took him a few minutes to actually shake the cobwebs from his memory, and walk down the hall to his "Man Cave"  where his memories are actually stored in his computer. He sat and thought for a while and, and then decided "This could be a good memory blog." So here is another blog, which is another advantage or disadvantage of getting old?

W.R. Baldwin 
19 Oct 2017

Friday, October 13, 2017


Remember When
                      Growing up in a small town

If you grew up in a small town as I did, I am sure the majority of these things will bring back memories---some good and some bad?
Discarded railroad ties were taken to the dump or burned—not used for landscaping.

If you got in a fight at school and you ended up with a black-eye your “nickname” immediately became “Joe Polooka.”

You struck out in a ball game and of course your team LOST because of you.

You had to tip a young boy $.50 to come and tell you that you had a call on the town phone. You then had to go up to the telephone office to call the people back.

You went up at night and drove the company trucks around the parking lot.

Gas was $.25 a gallon. The tank held about 18 to 20 gallons. It took 5 or 6 hours to make the LONG trip into Salt Lake City.

Spring clean-up to me and at least half of the people in town repainted their house GRAY again.

You got a buck every year at deer season and they were always four or six points???

You got kicked off the school bus for acting up and you were afraid to go home because you knew your parents would hear about it BEFORE you got home. (The gossip line always worked faster than a telephone.)

You “borrowed” the “monkey grease” out of the brake boxes on the railroad cars to build a fire while sleigh riding.

You helped tip over outside “crannies” on Halloween night.

You helped barricade the door to the school bus garage so you would not have to go to school the next day. (It never worked!)

You were ASSIGNED a partner for the annual Gold & Green Ball dance.

You got butterflies in your stomach when you took your first trip up the tram to go underground to work in the mine.

When you dried your boots and gloves on the steam heaters in the school house, it made them so stiff you could not get them on when school was over and it was time to go home.

Gas, tires, sugar and coffee were rationed during WW II and you had to have a ration book or stamps to buy them.

We walked anyplace we wanted to go. It could be school, movie, friends, church, post office, hunting or just hiking.

We saved tin foil and string on a big ball and took it to school to help our class win a prize for the War Effort.

You wore overalls and logger boots to school. There was no such thing as Levi’s or Reebok’s.

You helped set up folding chairs in the Amusement Hall before the movie each week, By doing that you could get in free instead of paying $.25.

We sluffed school and went and visited the girls in other towns instead.
We had a coal stove to heat our house, but it also served many other purposes. You cook on the top of it or in the oven. You could warm your feet in the oven in the winter. You could dry your hair in the oven. A coil in the fire box provided hot water. It was versatile – you could keep biscuits warm in the warming over above, while you cooked bacon & eggs, made coffee and cooked “spuds” on the top. Of course the down side was clinkers, ashes, kindling and coal buckets to keep full.

We hurried home from school to lay on the floor and “Watch” the radio while the “serials” were on. They kept our attention from one day to the next----the SHADOW, the GREEN HORNET, SUPERMAN, the INVISIBLE MAN, the CLUTCHING HAND, TARZAN AND THE APES and several others.

I don’t know if it was planned that way but our town was divided up into little sections, East Hiawatha, String Town, Jap Town, Tram Town, Greek Town, and Flat Town, Silk Stocking Row and the Flat Tops (or project.)

We were the Carbon County Boys----Our favorite pace to visit seemed to be The Emery County Swamp Angels.
If this stirs up some memories of your HOME TOWN, no matter where it is please feel free to add them as a comment.

W.R. Baldwin

Monday, October 9, 2017


1. What is this thing that men call death
This quiet passing in the night?
’Tis not the end but genesis
Of better worlds and greater light.
2. O God, touch Thou my aching heart
And calm my troubled, haunting fears.
Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure,
Give strength and peace beyond my tears.
3. There is no death, but only change,
With recompense for vict’ry won.
The gift of Him who loved all men,
The Son of God, the Holy One.
Copyright © 2007 by
 Gordon B. Hinckley and Janice Kapp Perry.

When I read this Poem that was penned by President Gordon B Hinkley it brought many different thoughts to my mind. Obviously some about death, but many about life. I think of it as the Well Traveled Path.

What is this path that we call life?
We stumble along in happiness and strife.
It seems like a long journey of happiness and toil
At times bushes and briars around our feet do coil.

But we learn as we travel, these are part of the plan,
And it matters not if you are woman or man.
Our journey is usually smooth, like trekking on grassy sod,
But sometimes we stumble and loose hold of the rod.

Sometimes our path in life we do not remember.
Sometimes it is cold, and icy like life in December.
And life’s path takes us through trials like ice,
But if we do what is right, almost always turn out nice.

We all have to travel to the end of this path.
Most times with happiness, sometimes with wrath.
I hope I always remember, the path is God’s creation,
That our life is a journey, and not a destination.

There are many, who follow the path back home,
And yes, many loose the path and they start to roam,
And some take a shortcut and are lost for a while.
But if they find the way back, it causes everyone to smile.

We have a roadmap to follow and a rod to hold on ,
But some look around for the crowd and see they are gone.
We may be here on earth for many days—or a few,
And I guess where we end up, depends on what we do.

WRB-  9 October 2017

Saturday, October 7, 2017

A Minority

   I recently went to lunch with a friend and like we usually do we started talking about a lot of different things. He said,”What do you think it would be like to be a minority?” Well you never know where a discussion like that will take you. Both of us being over 80 years old, does not necessarily mean we are really smart, intelligent or well informed—but we have had a LOT of experience, been a lot of places and done a lot of things in our lives.
   We talked about when we were young, which is a big difference than what it is today. I guess each person has to decide if it is better or worse? We talked about when we were in the military and served our country. And of course depending on a lot of things, each one of those experiences was different. We also decided a lot of people enlisted in the Armed Service for A LOT of different reasons.
   We also discussed families, both ours and others that we knew and came to the conclusion that most of the families we knew were about like ours in many ways. (That kind of surprised me, but I do not know why.)
   We were just about finished with our lunch and I said to him,” You know what, I think we are a minority.”
   We are both over 80 years old.
   We are both Mormons.
   We are both white US Citizens.
   I am happy with my life.
   I like to talk to people, even strangers. (That is if I can get them to speak up?)
   We are both overweight.
   I love my kids, and yes I still love my wife.
   I love to be with friends.
   I have the necessities of life, and some additional comforts.
   I am proud of my ancestry.
So we kind of agreed we may both be in the minority. So if you do not think you would like to be in the minority—think again- you might decide it is not so bad?

4 May 2015

Thursday, October 5, 2017


                                       HOME COMING

      He rushed up the ramp and stepped into the huge 747 and shuffled with the
Crowd until he got to his seat in the business class section. He took a deep breath and said to himself, ”hallaluya” I may be alone, with my three seats to myself?” After taking off his coat and tie and putting them in the overhead, he almost dropped into the aisle seat, which was the one he had been assigned.
   It had been a LONG WEEK, but he had accomplished a lot and he was looking forward to a three or four hour snooze on his way home. Of course the seats were really not that comfortable, but he told himself they were better than economy, and that was why he had asked his secretary to book them in business class.
   He had just got settled in for his expected nap when the stewardess stepped up and asked him if he could please stand up so that the other two passengers could get in their seats. He could not see anyone waiting, and the stewardess explained, the two people right across the aisle had got in the wrong seats and needed to move in next to him.
   He stood and stepped into the aisle and a young mother and a boy about 7 or 8 stepped into what he had hoped was going to be his empty seats. The boy looked at the businessman and said, “Hi Mister do you like to fly?” And the businessman looked at the boy and said to himself, ”Oh NO Lord, not me, I just don’t think I can carry on a conversation with a 7 or 8 year old – for four hours.
   After they had gotten all buckled up, the Mom, (Sydney) I found out a few minutes later, told the boy to sit back in his seat so they could all see each other while we got introduced. She said I think if we are going to be sitting and talking to each other, we should know each other.
   Then she proceeded—this young man is LeRoy, but he prefers Roy, so we use that. I am Sidney, and yes, I know it sometimes is a boy’s name!
    She then looked straight at the Salesman and said, “And you are---? Mr. --? He affirmed. ”yes it would be Mister ----something, and then he told her is name was Wally. She told him he sounded like a wonderful man, and thanks for being so kind to her and her son. Of course at that point Wally’s opinion of her went up several notches.
   She also told Wally that Roy loved to talk and he was quite smart, but if he bothered him to just tell her and she would, “have a little talk with him.”
   Well all Wally could really think about was that he hoped Roy did not cry, or babble for four hours. Of course he kept that thought to his self.
   Soon everyone was buckled up and the plane was on its way
   It was not long until Wally felt a little nudge on his knee. He looked down and sure enough it was Roy tapping his knee. He had a watermelon size smile on his face. He said, “My Mom is asleep, she is really tired, can I talk to you a little bit.
   Wally looked at him and asked him if he was allowed to talk to strangers. Roy’s answer kind of shocked Wally when he said, “Oh my Mom has introduced us so we are not strangers anymore.”
   After they had talked a while Wally thought to himself.”He is really a smart kid for only being 7 or 8 years old.” Later Roy told him he was really 9 but was going to soon be 12 so he could become a Deacon in his Church. Wally kind of chuckled as he thought about when he was MUCH YOUNGER he always shaved of a few years when he told someone his age.
   They had talked for a while, about a lot of things and Wally found out that Yes, Roy was a real smart little boy. He told him his Mom was a school teacher, and in Roy’s opinion a real good one.
   Roy told Wally he wanted to be a pilot in the USAF and fly an F-16 Fighting Falcon. Wally told Roy he had been a pilot in the USAF—a long time ago, but he was not a glamorous fighter pilot as he flew a C-47 Cargo Plane. Then Roy took a few minutes and told Wally all about the C-47, and again Wally was amazed at how smart he was. Wally laughed and told Roy he knew more about those old C-47 planes than he did.
   Wally found out he really did actually enjoy talking to Roy. It also made him realize he did not spend enough time at home with his grand kids and great grand kids.
   Time passed faster than it did on Wally’s usual flights. It did not seem anywhere near as long as usual, until he heard the pilot turn on the intercom and told everyone they could stand if they wanted, but to please stay in their seat area and stay until they let two VIP’s leave the plane. He said we are bringing home a Service Man who gave his all for us, our country and the things we believe in.
   Wally had just stood up by his seat when Roy pulled on his coat sleeve and asked him if he would step back a little so he could get past. Wally asked Roy if he did not want to wait until they removed the Service Man.
   Then tears came to both of their eyes as Roy said. ”Don’t you know Mr. Wally that Service Man is MY DADDY?
   Wally stepped back and Roy and Sydney went to the aisle to exit. As Sydney passed Wally handed her his business card and asked her if she would have Roy write him or send him an E-Mail.
      *Did Roy write or E-Mail Wally? Who knows? Maybe that is a subject for another blog?    

WRB 4 Oct 2017   

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Jon Scott Davis Obituary

Jon Scott Davis Obituary born 19 Oct 1948 Price, Utah ---Died 11 Aug 2017 Scofield, Utah---Obituary posted on Wally Baldwin Facebook.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017


                                               MY FAMILY


In the beginning there were only two,
That would be one of me and one of you.
She was raised as a cowgirl, on a ranch you see,
The other partner was a coal miner, and that would be me.

She introduced me to her Mom, and her lips I did read,
“Yikes a Coal Miners son,” Just what I don’t need.
Her Dad was a Rancher, from head to toe.
I’ll bet there is nothing about ranching, that he does not know.

I finished my “hitch” in the Air Force—four years was enough.
I have had enough of this “traveling the world” stuff.
We got married in a small town, but oh what a pity,
As we immediately moved up into “the big city.”

We had four children born over the years.
There was a boy and three girls, during fifteen years.
With us all together we totaled six people right then.
But when the children got married we grew quickly to ten.

Then the Grand Children started to join the throng,
And before we knew it nine of them came along.
Then four of the Grand Children found spouses to love.
I hope we all get blessings from Heaven above.

Finally the Great “Grands” started coming into our life.
Somewhere along the way I and my wife,
Settled back in our chairs just to enjoy life.
We had not thought about “Grands” in our life.

My wife passed away when the “Grands” started coming.
Of course she would think the boys are smart and the girls stunning.
She was still with us here when the first two arrived,
And she would see they all were never deprived.

As life went on we had two return to God.
Of course we all knew they were not under the cemetery sod.
Bailey our youngest “grand” stayed only two days here,
Steven, our oldest son, left two months after his Mother dear.

So we have one other “great”, ready to come and visit the Earth.
She comes in Sept., I hope she brings with her a lot of mirth.
I don’t even try to hear, or watch
 them anymore,
As they jump on the couch and push toys across the floor.

Where does it stop? Does the cycle stop going?
When we get more “Littles” do the old ones keep growing?
Are more spirits waiting patiently on high,
To come down here, and give Earth Life a try?

W.R. Baldwin 4 July 2017