KEYS

                  KEYS

   I have been cleaning out some boxes and drawers in my basement (again) and I run into a collection of old keys. Some of them were at least 75-80 years old. Then that reminded me of the key collage that has been hanging on our wall as long as we have owned this home. They, of course are really only interesting to members of our family. The chain full of keys on the left hand side are just a bunch of “keys of many kinds.” The ones in the middle of the  frame on the right were for my childhood home, and my dad’s union desk. It is funny when I think of it that the house was hardly ever locked and the desk was never unlocked unless Dad was using it.

   It is funny that now none of these keys have any intrinsic value. However as I am a dedicated pack-rat I seem to keep things for ever, valuable of not.

   As I thought about Keys my gray matter turned to ward many things. Of course it was the keys in these pictures that started all my thinking.

   So what does the word KEY bring to your mind? I would imagine a piece of metal of a certain shape to open a certain thing. Perhaps a door, drawer, padlock, start a car, or many other things. Of course perhaps you thought of keys on a typewriter, word processor, telephone, credit card type key, or ATM. A lot of these keys did not exist when I was a youth.

   Then there is the phrase we hear a lot, “keys to the kingdom.” But then this is a completely different kind of key in many ways, but a lot the same in other ways.

   A key whether in a temporal way or a spiritual way is to give us access to certain things, such as—(Temporal: House, car, office, telephone) and Spiritual: Temple, certain activities in Churches, Authority to do certain things in in Churches.

   Of course we can lose either temporal or spiritual keys, however in both cases if we lose them, we may find them and be able use them again.

   Here are a couple of examples that happened to people close to me: She was at the grocery store and when she came out and tried to put her groceries in the car, she pushed the little button on the key ring to open the door.  Nothing happened, and she tried two or three times and still nothing. She was frustrated, she took out her cell phone and called AAA and told them what was wrong and they sent a man over to help her out. When he got there she rehearsed her problem to him. He took her keys, puched the little button and behold the trunk lid (on a car just like hers that was parked about 6 cars away) immediately popped up. After laughing, discussing and wondering how often that happened, she offered to pay him.  He just laughed and told her 'Oh No,' you just made my day as he laughingly walked toward his truck.

   A similar but slightly different ending happened to the same woman. She had been shopping and she came out to get in her car. She pressed the little button on her key ring and nothing happened. She got a little frustrated (and I wonder if she checked to make sure it was her car?) She called her grandson and told him what was going on , and would he come and get her? He told her to try once more before he drove all the way over there. She tried again, punching the little button as hard as she could this time. Still Nothing. Then he asked her if the key went in the key slot OK. Well she never even thought about using a REAL KEY, because she always just pushed the button and the car unlocked. Of course when she tried the KEY, it worked great and now the family has another family story to pass on?

   I am not sure about others but I seem to have little keys in my memory bank that remind me of other keys. Sometimes this is not a good thing because I hop from one to another, most of the night as I try to go to sleep.

   Then there are the picture albums and journals that can keep you hopping from one to the other for hours or days at a time. Is that some little memory keys fault?

   As I mentioned before, in the Church I belong to, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”, we either have, or have the opportunity to receive many spiritual keys during our lifetime. The first ones that I think of are the keys of the Temple—not physical , but spiritual keys.

   Bro. Kent F. Richards recently gave a talk speaking about these spiritual keys. He said,”The Lord has revealed the fullness of the Melchizedek Priesthood, it is found in the Temple and its ordinances, for therein are the Keys of the holy priesthood ordained.”

   A man on Temple Square for a tour asked a missionary why he could not go inside the temple? The Elder conducting the tour told him, anyone can go into the Temple, if the have all the keys needed to do it. So the man replied that he really had a desire to go inside, so what would he have to do? The missionaries response that he would love to start him on the path, but it might take a year or more to actually receive all the spiritual keys to enter.  The man’s answer was a classic. He said. “I don’t think I would like to spend that much time and effort just to enter a building.” The additional information,  of course we, “as members of the Church,” know that it is not just any OLD BUILDING.-----( W.R. Baldwin 29 Jun 2016)

Hiawatha School Days & Bus Ride

       HIAWATHA SCHOOL DAYS 
   As we get older our short term memory seems to slip a little. At least it has been that way for me here of late. However it has not bothered my long term. It seems my friends and family can talk for hours about things we did when we were A LOT younger.

   Before I get into this blog very deeply I must comment on the pictures at the top of the page. Of course one is a picture of our school in Hiawatha. It really was a beautiful school and I am not sure that we as kids really appreciated what we had. (If you click on the school picture you can see it in more detail.) People usually imagine a country school as a wooden building with four walls and a roof. It is usually divided into two or four rooms with some windows on each side. NOT SO-HIAWATHA. The outside was beautiful red brick with white trim. It was always kept clean and the white on the outside was painted whenever it needed it. The windows were not just a piece of glass. They were 18 pane, double hung windows. The front entry was more like a grand entry than an entrance to a country school house. It would not be an exaggeration to say it was a grand building compared to most school houses in small town USA.

   The other picture is not OUR bus, but it is close enough to remind us what it looked like. I will first talk about memories of the School and then toward the end I will reminisce about the bus.

   We were fortunate to have such a beautiful building that was well taken care of. We were also very fortunate to have had dedicated teachers (for the most part) to get us started off on our road to a good education.

   It did not matter if learning came easy, as it did for some, or if we had to learn in the school of “hard knocks” as some of us did. It may not have been idyllic, but we all had the chance for the beginning of a good education.

   I suppose every student that went through the Hiawatha School program did not have smooth sailing, but I am pretty sure that the majority of us did.

   The comments from people who sent me information on their memories of this time in their lives seemed to have a common silver thread weaving through their memories.  It seems almost everyone at least mentioned the teachers and several mentioned acts of kindness from a teacher. Of course there were some mentions of the opposite also but they were few and far between.

+Mrs. Parmely once went to California on a trip and brought back an autograph because she   knew one of her students would cherish it. He still has it – and yes he still cherishes it.

+A student got soaking wet during recess at one time and Mrs. Parmley got him some dry clothes to wear until his were dry. The only bad thing he seems to remembers is the dry clothes were a dress.

+One who contributed to help me, recalls that most of the teachers in Hiawatha were female and when Keith Bolt was hired as a teacher; all the girls really thought he was a “hunk.”

+Another who responded to my call for help remembers how strong some of feelings between students and teachers were even after many years?  She said she met Mrs. Garber at a Hiawatha Day get together and Mrs. Garber, who was up in years, did not remember her. Her words about the experience were, “I was crushed because she did not remember me.”

+ When Mr. Williams was Principal he would let some of the kids ring the big brass bell when recess or lunch was over. It was quite heavy but the kids that got to do it thought it was a real privilege.

    Here are some of the teachers mentioned by those who responded to help me:

                Mrs. Leonard

                Mrs. Parmely

                Mrs. Garber

                Keith Bolt—Principal

                Mrs. Hampshire

                Wayne Bott

                Mrs. Heaton

        Mrs. Stevenson

       Mr. Dahlstrud--- Principal

       Russell Williams—Principal

      Mrs. Tanner

      Mrs. Crogan

      Mrs. Burmeister

Of course these are nowhere near all the teachers at Hiawatha School. They are the ones that people especially remembered when they contacted me.

   The next silver thread that weaved through all of the comments I received seemed to be about the hot lunch served at the school.  There were only good memories about it. The thing that was mentioned most was they were amazed how those ladies could fix a meal from scratch, every day, day after day, serve it on time, serve it hot and it was GOOD. The names that most people remembered from the lunch room were Belle Reaveley, Birdie Baldwin and Mrs. Nixon. One guy in particular said that Mrs. Nixon’s rolls “were to die for,” I also had forgotten that the older kids helped in the lunchroom, serving and cleaning up.

   I never used the sick room. In fact I did not know there was one. However one person told me about it. She thought it was up by the Principals office. The person who told me about it says she knows there was one because sometimes the person using it was not really sick but just wanted to get out of class for a little while.

   When I was attending school there I think the only lawn was in front of the school building. The rest of the playground was dirt. My sister who was several years younger than me tells me that when she was in the 7^th grade her class planted some more grass on the property as a Civics Project.

   I do not remember it, but I have been told that there was a basketball standard on the playground. That makes sense. Who could imagine a playground or a building in Hiawatha without a place to shoot some hoops. The town was crazy about Basket Ball and Base Ball.

   The next thing the boys were always playing was marbles. There seemed to be two types of games that were the most popular. One was to draw a circle about 10 feet wide and then everyone put marbles in the middle and everyone got a turn to try and knock them out of the circle with a marble called a TAW which you shot with your knuckle. The other one had to do with digging about 9 or 10 holes in a line about 5 or 6 feet apart a and everyone would try to get from the first hole to the last by shooting your TAW. At least that is how at least one person remembers it.

   There were a lot of things I do not recall that other people do. I decided to list them as random memories  and perhaps they will bring back some thoughts to you.

+Hiawatha had a band. The uniforms were Black & Orange and were made of wool. I can vouch that they were really hot to wear. I was only in the band one year and we went to Price for some celebration parade. When the parade was over we just took our tunics off and “crashed” on the lawn in the park until we cooled off.

+One girl vividly remembers riding her sleigh to school in the winter every day she could.

+Sometimes the bus could not get to Price because of too much snow on the road. For a while the bus driver lived in Price and he could not get to Hiawatha, so we got a snow day. We were sorry it did not happen very often.

+Mrs. Hampshire was always practicing for the kids to have a play or a dance. She was very talented in those things. I did not like to dance and would not participate in them.  I suppose it was the stubborn English Baldwin trait in me?

+We got to listen to the World Series games over the school’s intercom system. I don’t know if that happened at a lot of schools in our day and we liked it. We did not have to do lessons when the games were on.

   Another thing that a lot of people remembered was that a lot of the students rode their bikes to school, and though they never had to lock them, no one could remember one being stolen. I am not sure if that was a fact or if all of us had misplaced that in our memory bank. I doubt that would happen today.

   The Company built a tennis court on the back of the school playground, probably in the 1940’s. I was told they flooded it in the winter and made a skating rink out of it. I do not remember it ever being a skating ring but I did play some tennis on it in my early teen years.

   The girl’s activities on the school ground during recess and lunch hour seemed to be JACKS and Jump Rope. They used to say or sing little “jingles” when they jumped rope. I seem to recall there were a lot of different ones but all I recall was one that ended in “red hot pepper” and they would turn the rope as fast as they could. Some others were “Blue Bells, Cockle shells – Not Last Night, But The Night Before – Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man, Thief” 

   Of course in the winter a goodly part of the kids brought sleighs to school. And some even rode downhill on them to get to school. A lot of the boys, including me, always wished for a “Flexible Flyer” but I never did get one. Some of the kids who did not have a sleigh or did not want to bring it to school would get a big piece of cardboard and slide down the hill, behind the school, on that.

   The school was heated with radiators. Each room had several and when the kids came in from recess or lunch, or even in the morning, from walking to school, their leather boots and gloves were soaking wet. So they took them off and put them on the hot radiators to dry. Of course when they went to put them on they were stiff as a board and in the shape that they were left laying on the radiator. Sometimes you had to work a while to get your boots back into a shape that you could get them on your feet.

   Almost everyone in Hiawatha walked to school. In fact I thought real hard to see if I knew someone who did not walk to school. (Of course there were some exceptions if someone happened to be going out in a car at that time). But it was a big exception for that to happen. Some kids lived right behind the school and could just walk across the street and be there. Then there were some who lived in East Hiawatha or Greek Town or the Project (flat-tops) that had a lot further to trudge through the snow in the winter time. After I got married and had kids I always told them it would not have been so bad if it had not been uphill both ways.   

   Some things in this Blog are not earth-shattering, and really not meant to be. It was done just to be a fun thing to clean the cobwebs out of my memory bank and laugh with my family about, “The good old days.”

   Some things that happened at school in “The Day” were punishment. You would have to chew up a stick of gum and put it on the end of your nose, then parade to each of the classes in school so they could see what happens if you chew gum in class. If you acted up in class you had to stay in at recess time. You would think the teachers would figure out why more kids acted up in the winter than in the summer?

   The Kids now days would have a hard time in “The Day” as there was no talking in class without permission—NONE!

   Another interesting thing that did not happen in the school, however it did start and end there. When it was time for us to get our seasonal medical shots, we would all line up one class at a time and march over to Dr. Merrill’s office and get whatever shot it was, at that time of year, and then go back to school in a line, and the next class would come. I can’t remember who it was but there was one guy that passed out every time. We always teased him and told him the needle was a foot long and as big around as a pencil, and that you had to stand there for a LONG time. Even though he knew none of that was true he was about ready to pass out before we even got to the Doctor’s Office.

   There is a lot of discussion today as to whether or not students should learn cursive writing. This brought back a memory of learning cursive in Hiawatha. I can still picture our teacher in front of the class and slowly moving her arms and hands in big circles, curves, and lines, slowly and neatly and to not be in a hurry. That was how we did cursive, with an emphasis on slow and careful. I recall we even had contests to see who had the most beautiful cursive handwriting. Needless to say it was never me. Thank the good Lord for word processors and key boards today!

   One girl mentions that in 1958 (I did not live there then) that a mountain lion got in the basement of the school. They locked everyone in the classrooms and the restrooms until some men came and got him to leave. This is one story I had never heard before. That would be more than a little scary, especially for a bunch of kids.

                            AND THE BUS RIDE

   It was only 17.8 miles down hill and 17.8 miles back to get to Price and back home. So how come it took A LOT longer to get home in the afternoon than it did to go down in the morning? Of course the answer must be gravity.” No matter what it was it seemed a lot more boring coming home up through the cedars, than it did going down.

   The last year of Jr. High School and then High School, the students from Hiawatha went to Price to Mount Harmon Jr. High and Carbon High School. 

   The ride to Price and back home was the topic of a lot of conversations in those days. It was a time to catch up on gossip, laugh, do some lessons or sleep.  I also received several comments that responded to my asking for help to do this blog. Most of the comments were positive. Of course some of them talked about getting “booted off” the bus for bad behavior, but I suppose they only got what they deserved. A few commented on how nice “Tony” was, and that he was very conscientious about making sure everyone was on the bus, both going to Price and coming back home.

   I am adding  the Bus Ride section, because they were a part of our school years. All were interesting and might even be a little embellished.  Some I know are right and did happen, and some from other people, we will have to take their word for it, that it is factual.

    We can start with the annual Halloween gathering in front of the Bus Garage. Every Halloween night the boys (and perhaps some girls), gathered in a designated place and brought garbage cans, pieces of metal, old wagon wheels and parts, pieces of wood, tree stumps and anything else we could find and pile it in front of the bus garage so the bus could not get out to take us to school the next morning. It never did work!! The next morning there was always some men there to move the stuff. Sometimes they had the Turn-a-dozer there and it only took one scoop to move the stuff from in front of the garage. I don’t know why the boys did it every year, and the adults let it happen, unless it was just a “Them /vs/ Us type of thing?”

   One comment from my Sister, was that she and some friends did not have a large “clothing budget”, so when they started going to Jr. High School they would trade clothes so they could wear a different set of clothes every day. By the way in our day the girls all wore skirts or dresses to school. I liked that and still do. But of course I am very old fashioned, and I know it, because all of the younger generations in my family remind me of that OFTEN.

   One of the things that got us in trouble really fast was also not really very smart. We would all sway to one side of the bus and then back to the other and as we did it faster and faster it only took a few minutes for the bus to start swaying. As I said as I look back now, it was really a dumb thing to do, but we thought it was fun at the time.

    I and a group of my friends would sometimes hitchhike home after school, instead of riding the bus. When we did that we beat the bus home almost all the time. There were the times we did not get picked up and got home Late, but we liked the odds so we did it quite often.      

   I lot of people asked if we made friends or associated with kids from other towns while going to school in Price? I cannot speak for others, and no one mentioned it to add to this Blog, but I run around with the guys from Hiawatha most of the time. I did meet some guys from other towns but I never become close to any of them. We did some things together but I did not build any lasting friendships with them while going to Carbon, like I did with the kids from Hiawatha.

   This is not a bus incident but happened when I was in Jr. High School, so in a way they are connected. It is amazing how a Special Teacher can influence a student’s life. I had one in Jr. High that I have been thankful for most of my life. I wrote a blog about her. (You can find the blog if you are interested by going to Google  –Wally’s Musings  and then clicking on BOOKS & TEACHERS.) Or this link may work. http://touche-1.blogspot.com/

   Well this has become much longer than I expected and some of it has wandered away from Hiawatha School and the Bus Ride, but I had A LOT of people sent me comments. As I said originally, I have not used any names except some of the teachers. Some people requested that their names not be used so I decided to not use any.

   One more comment and I hope I am done? As I mentioned somewhere in the blog Mrs. Hampshire was very talented and she wrote the words and music to what we used to call The Hiawatha Song. I have the music but not all of the words. If anyone knows ALL THE WORDS please send them to me.

                Hiawatha, Hiawatha, we are ever true to the school we all love the best.

                When we work we always work, we play when we play.

                Try to beat us if you can, but we will always say,

                Hiawatha, Hiawatha, we are ever true to the school we all love the best.

All names mentioned were printed as I got them from various people. I did not try to correct them.

W.R. Baldwin

June 2016

       

A STRANGER

                                     A STRANGER

   I usually go to Church 15 or 20 minutes early so I can get a seat that enhances my hearing a little. It really does not a lot, but it does help a little, for me to pick the right seat.

   A few weeks ago I was sitting comfortably in my “reserved seat” when I saw a young man come in and sit on the far side or the row I was sitting on. It was obvious that he was a long way from being comfortable. He looked to be 10 or 11 years old, and it was obvious that he was alone.

   He was not fidgeting like a lot of kids that age do. In fact he was sitting almost like a stone statue, and I got the distinct feeling that he was extremely afraid and it looked like he was not even breathing. He kept staring straight ahead, giving the impression that if he looked around he might get in trouble. As I looked at him surreptitiously a couple of times, I saw he had on a pair of Jeans, clean but well worn ones, and a pair of sneakers that had seen most of their better days. Of course I think it was obvious to the boy that his peers (or the boys that seemed his same age) were dressed differently.

   No one sat by him, nor spoke to him and a few minutes before the meeting was to begin I got the distinct feeling that he was ready to bolt for the door.

   I got up and walked to the back of the Chapel and then down on the row he was sitting on and asked him if he would mind if I sat by him. He looked at me and said he guessed that would be fine. I put my hand out to shake his hand and told him I was Brother Wally Day, and asked what his name was? He told me it was Charles but most people called him “Chuck.”

   We sat through the meeting together and I noticed he did not have an I-pad nor a Cell Phone to play with like the other kids and he just sit and listened.

   As soon as the closing prayer was said he stood up to leave but had to get passed me to get out of the row of seats. I asked him if he was in a hurry to leave and he “guessed he wasn’t”. We talked a little, and I found out he lived about three blocks from the Church, and he had lived there a long time but never come to Church before. In fact as far as he knew he was not a member of the Church. He told me he had some friends at school who had been trying to get him to come to Church with him. I offered him a ride home and he said, ”Naw I will walk, but thanks anyway.”

   When he told his Mom he wanted to go to Church with his friends and she just kind if laughed. She told him if he made it through three weeks in a row, she might even start going with him.

   So that day was his first day and I kind of watched him for three weeks after that just to see how it was going. ( I really was curious to see what happened on week four. Would his Mom come with him or would he come alone, or would he not come at all?)

   During those three weeks he came out of his shell a little. The boys his age and in his class at Church befriended him a little, but it seemed he liked being a loner. He usually sat in the Chapel by himself. I sat by him one Sunday and we chatted a little before the meeting started. He never said anything about his Mom coming to Church. However he told me his Mom had told him he might be a member of the Church because she was a member when he was born. He said she did not really know how that worked?

   I offered to send a couple of guys to their house to explain it if he wanted me to. He then told me if I meant Missionaries, the guys in his class at school had already told him about them, but he wanted to wait until after May 5^th which was the day his Mom was coming to church with him, Maybe?

   Well I waited with great anticipation for next week to arrive. I think I was more anxious than “Chuck” was, to see if his Mom really showed up for Church that day.

   Well I was as nervous as “a cat on a hot tin roof” on Sunday, May 5^th. Then when it was almost time to start the meeting and neither Chuck nor his Mother had shown up I was very disappointed, some for myself, but a lot more for my new found friend Chuck.

   Then about two minutes before the meeting was to start I saw Chuck come in the back door with a woman and a man. They looked around, like all “newbies” do to see if they could hurry and find a seat. I waved to Chuck to come and sit by me and they did.

   I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask Chuck and his Mom, but they just got sat down and the meeting started. I glanced at Chuck a couple of times during the meeting and he had a smile a mile wide.

   When the meeting ended I told Chuck I would like to meet him and his Mom in the Lobby so he could introduce her to me. He said that would be fine and he would introduce his Dad also. He said even though they knew who I was they really wanted to meet me.

   Well we met in the lobby and we all got introduced to each other. The Bishop came by (pre-planned) I think, and we introduced him. Chuck’s Mom and Dad thanked me for fellowshipping Chuck and told me that he now loves coming to church where he feels he now has some real friends. His Mom said it was hard for him to make friends because he was not a social butterfly so to speak.

                                                            PostScript

            *I found out Chuck was actually 11 years old and would be 12 in December.

            *His Mom was indeed a Member but had not been active since she was a teenager.

 *His Dad and Mom discreetly met with the Missionaries (at Bro. Day’s home) and

 set a date to be baptized on the same day Chuck did.

 *I lost track of Chuck and his family when they moved to Arizona a few years ago,

 but Chuck still sends me an E-Mail occasionally to update me on his family--- He is

 leaving on a mission in a couple of months.

                                                                     W.R. Baldwin 13 Jun 2016

                                                                                     

                                                                                                            

EMPTY NESTER

                                       EMPTY NESTER
W.R. Baldwin
12 June 2016

Is an Empty Nester, really a person or a place?

Or just a topic of conversation that we like to embrace?

An Empty Nest can be anyplace, so it seems to me,

In a very large city, a country town, or even in a tree.

Of course the one I speak of in my Blog today,

Is a Human home, when the kids have gone away?

They have all left the roost, but still come to visit.

They do come and spend time, but it’s not too long,-- IS IT?

Sometimes two are left in that empty nest,

And sometimes only one is left there to rest.

The nest is still the same size, and love still does abound,

But like a couple of marbles we seem to just roll around.

The Empty Nesters grow older, and so do those that are gone,

We look out the window, but see no young ones on the lawn.

The days seem to be longer- but I know it’s not so,

But the evening sun does go down very, very slow.

It is part of the plan we agreed to when we came here,

When we did not know of the “Empty Nester Fear.”

We knew we would come and stay in a nest for a while,

Then we would find a companion and have our own nest a while.

My girls have grown up and left for nests of their own.

My son has passed on, it seem like before he was grown.

My Wife and I were together 56 years in our nest.

I think when our home was full is when it was best.

We can’t just quit living when our family has left.

We all have an Earth Plan to finish our quest.

We are older it’s true and we can’t do as much,

Even if we try hobbling on a crutch.

Now I am alone in my Empty Nest and there are no rules for me.

When I get up in the morning I think, “Is there a place I should be?

Then some times the nest is a place I despise.

Sometimes out of bed, I do not want to rise.

Those who left me in my nest alone,

Now have “Empty Nests” of their own,

And their Earth Plan keeps moving, they are on the go

I am indeed quite happy OUR life plans were slow.

One thing I have not conquered here in my nest,

Is called a cell phone and it is a pest.

If it rings more than once and I do not say “hello,”

I get a call on my “old phone” and the question I hear---

WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU-??

CHANGE

Wallace Baldwin 1932

Jerry Allred,Wallace Baldwin, Don Reaveley

Wallace R. & Bill Baldwin
CHANGE

Yes I have Changed,

I am no longer 14

Nor 44

Nor 54

Nor 74

Yes, I am 84 and I have had a lot of time to make a lot of changes. And yes I have made a lot of changes other than just age. Of course I think a couple of the big ones have been physically and intellectually. Also I am pretty sure that in almost all cases just getting older brings a lot of changes—tagging along behind.

Every once in a while I hear someone say,”I wish I could stay 18, or 30, or 50, or whatever age they are, or that they are comfortable with. Of course they probably do not really mean that. (At least I don’t think they do?) They are probably just making conversation, or small talk.

Also I think we have a tendency to want to change other people and not ourselves. Then that begs the question. “Do they need to change, or is it Me that needs to change?” 

In my 84 years I have met A LOT of people and most of them, by far, have done just fine changing their life from toddlers, to teens, to young adults, to Moms & Dads, Grandpa’s and Grandpa’s and even some old Great Grand’s. Of course there have been some bad apples but they have been a small minority.

Maybe we should just “be ourselves” and not try and put on airs, and try to be something we are not. I was surprised many years ago when a friend and I were talking and he said, ”I wish I could just be myself, like you seem to do. So many people seem to have an agenda and it is relaxing to just talk with someone—just to make conversation—not change their mind or try to change yours on everything that comes up.”

At some point in our lives it will probably dawn on each of us that we are flawed in some way. I think we all try to change those flaws, when we come to the realization that we have a few. We discover this at all ages. It could be 15 and “Oh my gosh, I have a pimple.” Now that is not too serious for me at (age 84), but it sure is at 15, and the discovery is made the night before PROM. Heaven’s sake the world may come to an end. Of course at 84 we have a few of those flaws also. We stand at the top of the stairs, with all of our pockets empty, both hands empty, but can’t for the life of us remember what we are headed down stairs to get? I don’t think that is going to change, unless it gets worse?

Then, at least for me there are some “Never Change” things. I and probably almost all people my age, in this country were taught to say “The Pledge to the Flag” with our right hand over our heart. I may be sticking my neck out a little, when I say almost all people, but I don’t think so?

In our schools, and athletic activities, we were taught to “Pledge the Flag” perhaps even so that it became a spiritual experience. Even today if you are at a parade, watch the people my age (?) and you will see the vast majority will be standing at attention, hats off, and hands over their hearts. (No change needed here?)

Another thing that came to mind as I was brain-storming this Blog was our “change of moods.” It is amazing how fast we can change moods, and also how many different things can Change our moods. A CHOIR—singing a Hymn. Especially one I like will almost immediately put me in a relaxed mood, even if just before it started, I was not relaxed. LAUGHTER--- If I hear someone really laughing it almost always puts me in a happy mood. REMINISCING --- This can go on for hours and I love to talk about “the good old days.” I go to breakfast with some old guys and one of them said at one time, “The reason we talk so much about the old days is because we have all lost our short term memory.” Yes, and he is probably right? A RIDE IN THE MTNS.--- I love to ride in the mountains, especially if there is a stream nearby. It seems to calm the ‘devil nerves’ in me. I have to admit a mountain ride got better as we got older. I think it is because as we got older we did not have three or four kids asking impossible questions, or arguing about who should be sitting where?

I hope everyone who reads this blog either keeps a journal, or starts one soon. There is nothing like a journal to make your children and grand children laugh out loud ten or twenty years from the day that you wrote in your journal. (One comment you will continually get if you have a family picture or journal night is “Did that really Happen?” Also there is nothing like pictures so reinforce how much your life has changed from one decade to another. Of course the great commandment of pictures is “Name, Time and Place on the back of EACH picture.” You may think you will never forget a certain picture, but I can honestly tell you that in ten years you will not remember Who, What, When and Where on a lot of them, if not MOST of them. If you do not do a journal now---make the change, I guarantee you will be glad you did.

There are some things that seem very hard to change. I know in our family we have the up-tight, hurry up, I can do this people and we have some don’t worry about it and it will be OK, or it is not important right now type. I think it might be a cop-out when we say “I cannot help it. It must be in my genes.” I would be nice to be calm and serene all the time but that is not likely to be one of our changes.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland made this comment in Conference one session: “Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until Heaven; but those who embrace the Gospel of Jesus Christ. They come.

President Gordon B. Hinckley made this comment; “Do the best you can. But I want to emphasize that it be the very best”.

So this is about change. And as usual I seem to have rambled a little. As I said earlier, we all have flaws and we all can change. As for me I pretty much try to just be myself, because I am not smart enough to try any other way! I have made a lot of changes in my life and just looking at my picture albums prove that. I am sure I need a few more changes and I am really trying!

Wallace R. Baldwin

7 June 2016

Days to Reminisce

Redwood State Park-California

Flying kites on the beach- Oregon

Redwood State Park-California

Oregon Beach

It seems like I have a lot of time to reminisce here of late. I am happy that I have most of my faculties left so I CAN do that. I suppose it is only normal that a lot of my memories have to do with my wife and the things we have done over the years.

She loved to travel. It did not really matter what the destination was, she just liked to get out and go. I also liked it so it was something we did as often as we could. After we had children they also liked to go on our magic trips. In fact our favorite ones seemed to get boring after the fourth, or seventh or whatever number was the last time was.The different one was Donnie. It did not matter how many times she went she always enjoyed it and always seemed to find something new to see and comment on.

One trip come to mind as I sit and reminisced the other night. It was a trip we took before my wife become dependent on a wheelchair. We left Utah and went to California, then up the coast to Oregon, Washington, North West Montana, down through Northern Idaho and back to Utah. We had several "High Spots" on that trip but it was really fun list listening to Donnie as she acted as the resident tour guide ---Oh look at that, Oh did you see that fern, Look at that eagle nest in that tree-- and it went on and on.

Donnie does not like the water. In fact she will not get in it if she thinks it will be over her ankles. So I was really surprised that she enjoyed the drive up the beach highways all the way from Northern California to the northern tip of Washington. We both enjoyed it and I know those days were some we enjoyed, as we talked a lot about it when we got home. 

One night we stayed in Lincoln Beach, Oregon. Donnie did not care where we stayed as long as they had a deck where we could sit and watch the ocean. We wanted to spend some time there so we stopped early, got a nice room on the second floor with a deck facing the ocean, and we were all set.

We walked the beach for a while (or perhaps I should say I walked the beach,) as Donnie would not get anywhere near the waters edge. We watched people flying kites (not like the kites we had as kids, but BIG, COLORFUL kites. Some looked to be 12 to 15 feet long. I recall one was a dragon. Some had two lines, one to fly it and one to control it. Donnie made the comment that they were almost mesmerizing they were so graceful.

We found a big rock to sit on and had only been there a few minutes and Donnie heard some young kids laughing and playing behind us, so she went over to see what was going on. She only stayed a few minutes and when she came back she took my hand and said, "look I have found something beautiful for you," She gently lay a sand dollar into my hand. She said," isn't it beautiful? Then she looked at me and asked how in the world it got around?

That night we sit on the deck of our motel and watched the ships as they would rise and fall with the swells on the ocean. She was fascinated by the running lights on the ships as they rose as if they had been buried in the sea and then all at once there they were, only to do it over and over until they finally went out of sight as they traveled up and down the coastal waters.

We did not really talk much, we just watched and listened as the waves washed up on the shore. Once in a while we could hear a ship's horn. We stayed out on the deck pretty late and when we finally went in Donnie made the comment,"hasn't it been a magical night." And course I thought to myself, "wouldn't it be great to enjoy little things as much as she does."      

The next morning we headed north on the coast highway out of Oregon and into Washington. In the northern part of Oregon we found a completely different coastline. Donnie said the ocean sounded angry when we got to Oregon. There were cliffs instead of sandy beaches, and the waves pounding on the cliffs sent water spraying in every direction and the beaches were covered with debris. Donnie said it was "fascinatingly beautiful." I would never described it like that but of course I did not always see the beauty in things like she did. I reminded her this was not like the calm rolling ocean that we were at when she lay a sand dollar in my hand.

When I was sitting and reminiscing, a song of my youth came to mind. "Little Things Mean A Lot," was popular way back when. It really is true and the older you get the more you realize that.

When we got to Port Angeles, Washington we decided to stay there so we could get up early in the morning and catch the ferry to Canada and see Butchart Gardens. We got to a motel early and did not have anything to do, and Port Angeles is not a really thrilling tourist town so we decided to walk down to the pier and look around.

There was a man catching crabs in the harbor. I got a lesson on crab catching that day. I am not sure if it is true and I do not know what he was using for bait, but he told me that you throw the bait out with a fishing pole and the crab grabs the bait and will not let go of it so you just reel them in. But this is not meant to be about catching crabs, it is about Donnie's new pass time. We were up on the pier and the crab fisher was down at the water line. It did not take Donnie long to realize that we could see the crabs in the water from where we were standing. She started hollering at the guy and telling him where to cast. Donnie got as excited as if she had been fishing herself. In fact she was more excited than our new found friend. He offered to give her a couple of crabs when he left but we graciously told him no.

Well as I mentioned in the beginning, this blog is supposed to be about reminiscing, and the older I get the more I reminisce about the good old days, and the thoughts seem to get better and longer and perhaps even embellished a little.

Over the years my wife could not travel as much because of debilitating diabetes. However we still took short trips, we still enjoyed nature, people, places and beautiful things in this old world.

She was always able to pick out the beauty around her and to have a kind word for everyone. As she got older our memories and dreams seemed to get better and longer, and as I said perhaps embellished a little.

One thing she never "converted me to do was to go in the "gyp joints" as we traveled and buy a souvenir to bring home as a remembrance. She brought home a lot of them and they still are around here I suppose. Thank heaven she never brought home a "Lava Lamp."

It seems strange how vivid this trip is in my mind when I start really thinking about it?

W.R. Baldwin
3 Jun 2016