Donnette About BYU

I haven't heard from BYU either. They were collecting stories of LDS men 
in all the wars - not just the few that they started with. I sent them a 
CD with war stories of Ray and Claude, and of Richard and his brother, 
Herbert Jr. who were in WWII. It is nice they are being archived. 

A number of years ago Richard and I were gathering information to write 
some of our ancestors' histories and found that someone had written the 
biography as a Master's thesis for one of Richard's ancestors - George 
Washington Hill. As Richard was a descendant they Xeroxed Richard a 
copy. A couple of years ago I went to BYU and asked if they could copy 
off some copies for our children. They showed me that they have been 
computerizing all those histories and that they are online for anyone to 
print off. It is great that some of these things are so available. 

 I am in good health. I work once a week at the Lindon Family History 
Center and am a Ward Family History Consultant. And I do the ward 
bulletin each week. My daughter, Barbara, who lives in Orem comes once a 
week for lunch to see if I'm still getting around and helps me with my 
little garden. And my daughter, Cynthia, has moved to Lehi - so I see 
them both fairly often. Some of the grandchildren drop by. I am so glad 
we moved to Lindon. None of the family are left in Idaho. 

It is always great to hear from the family - the children and the 
cousins and the friends. Always fun to see your family pictures on the 
Christmas cards.

Love to all, Donnette

Easter weekend, on Saturday, we suffered a forced entry burglary. This was our second burglary that involved a forced entry of our home. We have, as most have had, a car burglary. That also involved a forced entry when the burglar broke a side window into our car. Our recent home burglary saw less door damage but more monetary loss than the first burglary at this home. The first was more traumatic, however, since one of our daughters entered the home while the burglars were still about their business. Fortunately, for us and for her, the burglars made a hasty exit and she was terrified but unharmed. 

As I was thinking about all of this, I remembered the time when, as young BYU students, my husband and I were awakened late during the night by the sound of a car entering our apartment complex. It was summer and we had our windows open. Oddly, we knew this was not the vehicle of a neighbor so we went to our window to look out. We lived on the top floor of one building which faced the other building in the complex. The car backed out of the driveway and we assumed that our neighbor on the floor below and facing us was being dropped off after their stint nursing at a nearby facility. About to turn from the window, we noted a man dressed in dark clothing lift the screen from the window of the apartment of our friend. We saw him climb in through the window and drop from sight. My husband hurried to the phone to call police officers who soon arrived with a police dog. However, the man went out the back door as the police went in the front door. It was only then that our sleeping neighbor, a female, realized she had had an intruder. The apartment complex was long and a waiting car at the back spirited off the intruder before the police dog could make him stop.

The next day, we were called upon to go to police headquarters and see if we could identify any known burglar on the mug sheets kept on record there. It was fruitless, of course. It was, after all, night time and all we had was a good idea of size and shape. It was much the same with our latest burglary. It is difficult to identify someone who intrudes. Eventually, we all hope, the dishonest among us are finally found. In our burglary case, the fingerprints found were of a person with large-sized fingers who was wearing gloves. We also had our fingerprints taken in order to see if one bare-fingered print was of the burglar. It turned out to be a match for my thumb.

We now have an electronic alarm system with many bells and whistles which our eight children and their spouses purchased and had installed.

My purpose in writing about this is that, had you asked me when I was 16 if I would ever have an alarm system, I would have responded with a resounding: "NO!" My grandmother and I used to open the doors and windows in the evenings during the summer. We left those windows and doors open and went to bed and never worried about having anyone break in or do us harm. One time, while we were away from home (I think we were buying groceries.), a couple of neighbor boys came in and helped themselves to treats but that was about the worst of it. There was one time when, in the early morning hours, we heard some banging about in the living room. Grandma went into the living room and found one of our neighbors. He was drunk and thought he was sneaking into his own home. When the lights went on in the living room, he was more surprised than we were. After that, Grandma always remembered to latch the screen door. It had one of those simple little hooks that dropped through an eye. I suppose that a credit card would have lifted the latch but we didn't have credit cards.

I wonder if we really were safer in the 1950s or if we were just more naive?

Burglary

Easter weekend, on Saturday, we suffered a forced entry burglary. This was our second burglary that involved a forced entry of our home. We have, as most have had, a car burglary. That also involved a forced entry when the burglar broke a side window into our car. Our recent home burglary saw less door damage but more monetary loss than the first burglary at this home. The first was more traumatic, however, since one of our daughters entered the home while the burglars were still about their business. Fortunately, for us and for her, the burglars made a hasty exit and she was terrified but unharmed. 

As I was thinking about all of this, I remembered the time when, as young BYU students, my husband and I were awakened late during the night by the sound of a car entering our apartment complex. It was summer and we had our windows open. Oddly, we knew this was not the vehicle of a neighbor so we went to our window to look out. We lived on the top floor of one building which faced the other building in the complex. The car backed out of the driveway and we assumed that our neighbor on the floor below and facing us was being dropped off after their stint nursing at a nearby facility. About to turn from the window, we noted a man dressed in dark clothing lift the screen from the window of the apartment of our friend. We saw him climb in through the window and drop from sight. My husband hurried to the phone to call police officers who soon arrived with a police dog. However, the man went out the back door as the police went in the front door. It was only then that our sleeping neighbor, a female, realized she had had an intruder. The apartment complex was long and a waiting car at the back spirited off the intruder before the police dog could make him stop.

The next day, we were called upon to go to police headquarters and see if we could identify any known burglar on the mug sheets kept on record there. It was fruitless, of course. It was, after all, night time and all we had was a good idea of size and shape. It was much the same with our latest burglary. It is difficult to identify someone who intrudes. Eventually, we all hope, the dishonest among us are finally found. In our burglary case, the fingerprints found were of a person with large-sized fingers who was wearing gloves. We also had our fingerprints taken in order to see if one bare-fingered print was of the burglar. It turned out to be a match for my thumb.

We now have an electronic alarm system with many bells and whistles which our eight children and their spouses purchased and had installed.

My purpose in writing about this is that, had you asked me when I was 16 if I would ever have an alarm system, I would have responded with a resounding: "NO!" My grandmother and I used to open the doors and windows in the evenings during the summer. We left those windows and doors open and went to bed and never worried about having anyone break in or do us harm. One time, while we were away from home (I think we were buying groceries.), a couple of neighbor boys came in and helped themselves to treats but that was about the worst of it. There was one time when, in the early morning hours, we heard some banging about in the living room. Grandma went into the living room and found one of our neighbors. He was drunk and thought he was sneaking into his own home. When the lights went on in the living room, he was more surprised than we were. After that, Grandma always remembered to latch the screen door. It had one of those simple little hooks that dropped through an eye. I suppose that a credit card would have lifted the latch but we didn't have credit cards.

I wonder if we really were safer in the 1950s or if we were just more naive?

The Pebble

Shawn Trauntvein
Friday, January 23, 2009 4:24 PM

The Pebble
I remember going on a hike up behind Kenilworth with Dad. I was small. I remember hiking to where there was a large metal object behind a chain link fence. He explained that this was a fan, and that a large ventilation shaft went down. The fan was large, and somewhat interesting in itself. But besides that it did not seem of particular interest. You could not really see the shaft opening, because it was enclosed by the fan, but the shaft was apparently fairly deep—you just could not tell that. What made the fan and shaft more unique and interesting, was its ability to preserve life of the miners in an otherwise inhospitable environment. But the mine had long been closed, the fan was not running, and all we had was a description or story. Then, I remember him finding a pipe sticking out of the ground, a little off to the side and outside the chain link fence. The pipe was about an inch in diameter. We could look down the pipe, but there was not much to see. He then picked up a small pebble and dropped it down the pipe, and told us to listen. As I began to focus, I could hear a slight pinging sound. The pinging sound resulted as the pebble bounced back and forth on the walls of the vertical pipe, gaining speed, and the pitch growing higher as it fell far below. The pinging wasn’t loud, but if you were attentive you could hear it over the breeze. As we listened, eventually all of the sound would just stop. We all took turns finding a good pebble and dropping them down the pipe. In each case we struggled to get our ears near the pipe, and as we listened we could hear the pinging for quite a while, and though I was too small to translate time into distance, the evidence was enough to trust his assessment that the pipe went deep.

This reminds me of Dad in more way than one. To many, he may not have seemed particularly interesting. You could not tell what his purpose necessarily was, unless he told you. As you learned about his work and what he did in the church, that made him more interesting. Still, there are other principals and other Bishops and Scouters. But what ran deeper than all of that was his testimony of the atonement and resurrection of the Savior, and his testimony of the restored gospel. You could not tell those in just looking at him, they are enclosed in him. But what has softened my heart, and added infinitely more interest, is as I have tried to crowd near him with my siblings, and be attentive and not distracted by the noise of the world. Then, as I listened and watched, I could tell from his actions, as he bounced back and forth making small corrections, and gaining speed, that his purpose centered on his testimony, and that it went deep—so deep that it would reach beyond the mortal, and into eternity.


Date: Wed, 28 Apr 2010 11:28:01 -0600

Shawn wrote: Kirsten asked us to send some memories of Dad over a year ago. I do not know if she was able to put together what she was working on. She probably already did, so you probably already have this. But as I was looking through old email, I found this and wanted to make sure he knew how much I love him, and both of you. Not much, just a bit of prose, but it represents a cherished memory and an aspect of his character that I have recognized. I hope I haven't spoiled something that Kirsten may have still been doing, but probably not as this is fairly old.


Wed, 28 Apr 2010 12:40:48 -0600

Kirsten wrote: I only had four responses... so I haven't compiled it yet...

Sorry.

Kirsten

Shawn wrote: Oh, I am sorry. I was cleaning out some old email. I should have asked you first. That would have made sense to do that first. Maybe Mom can not show it to Dad until you finish.


Wednesday, April 28, 2010 3:53 PM

No biggie, Shawn.  I think it's good for dad to see.  I don't know if I'll ever finish getting the responses.  I'll try again after this weekend. 

Kirsten

Neighborhood Watch

Hi Leonard,

     

Colleen told me you have been checking up on me.  Thanks.  I am OK, even though I feel lousy.  Like Colleen said, when I am in the back bedroom, with the door closed, I don't hear the phone.  Hopefully, I will be able to get over this cold, or flu, or whatever it is by next week, so I can get back to the Temple.

Russ Bender

HeHeHe

With time, women gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room, it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren't heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy. Beginning today, when I look at my rear in the mirror I will think, good grief, look how smart I am! Ladies If you agree with me, send it on. :D This made me laugh!


From Al to Myrna:

Silly older women are the result of such rationalizations. It is even true of younger women.

This does not apply to older and sophisticated gentlemen, such as Leonard and myself.

Love you as you are.
No strings
al

Al Pitts 
Manufacturing Engineering 
Ph. (206) 544-3098 
alan.r.pitts@boeing.com 
M/S 4F-14

Uncle Charles on Television

Grammy's Gleanings: Uncle Charles on Television

Shawn: I attached the PDF of his interview. (Myrna opened it and published it at this site and also at Grammy's Gleanings.)

Subject: Uncle Charles tells one of his experiences on Untold Stories on KUED 7

• HOME  
• KUED HOME  
• ABOUT THE HOST, RICK RANDLE  
• AIRDATES  
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EPISODE MENU

Part 1: The Struggle

Aired Wednesday December 7, 2005

The "Greatest Generation" recount their experiences from Pearl Harbor to the Doolittle Raid.
• WATCH
• FILM TRANSCRIPT
• COMPLETE INTERVIEWS

Part 2: Europe

Aired Tuesday, March 7, 2006

The "Greatest Generation" recount their experiences from Pearl Harbor to the Doolittle Raid.
• WATCH
• FILM TRANSCRIPT
• COMPLETE INTERVIEWS

Part 3: The Pacific

Aired Tuesday, August 13, 2006

Tales of tremendous battles above, below and on the vast Pacific Ocean.
• WATCH
• FILM TRANSCRIPT
• COMPLETE INTERVIEWS

Part 4: The Home Front

Aired Thursday, December 7, 2006

The stories of those who stayed behind, went without, waited for the soldiers' return.
• WATCH
• FILM TRANSCRIPT
• COMPLETE INTERVIEWS

Part 5: Untold Stories

Aired Monday, March 8, 2010

The "Untold Stories."
• WATCH
• FILM TRANSCRIPT
• COMPLETE INTERVIEWS

UTAH WORLD WAR II STORIES FEEDBACK

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Thank you, Myrna, for your feedback!

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Robbery

Saturday afternoon we left our home about 4:15 p.m. We returned home about 11:45 p.m. As we came into our home from the garage, we passed the back door, leading outside. I turned the knob on the door and it was unlocked.  I thought maybe I had left it unlocked, so I locked it. About fifteen minutes later, I checked the front door and it was ajar so I locked it and we went to bed. 

The next morning I was sitting in the front room reading and Myrna, my wife, called to me to come back to the bedroom. She told me that the reason the doos were  unlocked when we returned home was that we had been robbed. She showed me her drawers and how her clothes where sticking up and had been gone through. My drawers had also been rifled. She showed me  that my jar of quarters was missing. It was totally full. The burglars left the  decorative lid. 

When we realized we had been robbed, we called and Officer Wes Dudley came over. We were telling him that we could not see any evidence of a forced entry, when Myrna stated she could see how they got in. She pointed to the front door and we could see the groove in the door where they had pried it open. Then we could see the pry marks on the door casing and how the burglars had totally destroyed  the receiver.

Later on that morning, after a city police officer had gone, I went to my sock drawer and found they had taken three pair of Docker socks that I had purchased about a month earlier. They were black socks and had  Docker written across the toes.

On Monday, an officer came an took finger prints. Today, Monday the twelfth, we are to go over to the police station and give them our finger prints. Some of the prints Officer Burt Wright got looked pretty good. Hopefully, they will not be ours. The same night our house was broken into another home just three blocks from ours was also broken into and they lost a jar of money, a $100 bull and other items. A travel trailer was also broken into and many items, such as a flat screen television, were taken. As of now the only things we can see missing at our home are the money and the socks..

Myrna and the Alligator Ride

From: OrCutter@aol.com

Date: Tue, 13 Apr 2010 18:09:30 -0400

Subject: photos

To: mandlht@msn.com

Hi Myrna,

    I just thought I'd tell you that I will mail you the original of that alligator pic, plus any others Mom had that won't mean anything to my sister.  I cropped the one I put on FB because the only way I can get the pix onto my computer is to take a pic OF the pic with my camera.  I can scan the pics but can't seem to send them from that area of the computer to my Kodak Easyshare program that has an automatic upload to FB...... I need a computer geek! So the print I took was too dark.

    

Anyway, I'm sure there will be a few pics that are more 'your' family than 'mine' and I'll set those aside & send them when I get a few.  Unfortunately, I am prone to doing SEVERAL projects at once, which means that everything takes forever!  I tell myself to try and do one thing at a time & just get it done, but that never seems to work... something else always takes precedent over whatever I started...... but I'll get there eventually..... I hope.  I'll email the whole pic to you now also, but when I told my hubby that it was my "Grandpa Gilbert' at the end, next to Aunt Vivian, he said "you mean that black man"?  cause I couldn't see to lighten him up without loosing all the detail in everyone else.  I'll send it in a minute & snail mail it later.

   
Take care, hugs, Toni

In a message dated 4/14/2010 12:39:48 A.M. Pacific Daylight Time, mandlht@msn.com writes:

I so appreciate the photos. Your digital copies are so special to me that I can't even express my gratitude. I am ever so grateful for your sharing them with me. 

It is so wonderful of you to think of sending the original photos to me. It is such a special gift. I only wish I had someway to repay the favor. I do have a scanner and I have Photoshop so that I can scan and send photos. I could even zoom in on your Grandpa Gilbert and send a photo of just him back to you after you send the photo to me. 

You are a thoughtful and considerate person. I am grateful for that. My offer still stands to pay for the postage on items you send me. I know this project is taking a lot of time and I appreciate all you do.

Toni Jackson 4/14/10
To: mandlht@msn.com

That's OK.... I'm just glad we got back in touch before I gave everything away.  I have a night-stand type cabinet of Mom's that was full of their photo albums & I just took the whole thing when the folks died.  I've never gone thru' all the stuff inside except for a couple of items.  The album I'm working on is just one of several, although it's probably the one with the most old time pics of anyone you would want to see. When I'm done with this one, I'll look to see if there are any others that would be of interest to you.  I'm happy to hear that you enjoy the pics.  My kids may appreciate it all more at some point, but at least you and I knew the people in the pics, and they really didn't know any of them except my Grandma Jessie just a little.

I'll try to finish up the album sometime soon......  Hugs, T.

Braden Opens His Mission Call