History or Legends

Tomorrow morning Eldon and Diana Neves are going to fly to Africa to serve on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They will be serving in Sierra Leon. It will be a very different world from their ranch in Utah. Eldon is the other grandfather of my tiny granddaughter Lily Katherine Neves. Eldon usually wears boots, a hat for shade and a graying moustache. Lily has adored her grandpa and his moustache. He would get down on the floor to talk to her and she would immediately reach out to touch his moustache.

A week ago he shaved his moustache off, in preparation for serving as a missionary. The first time that Lily saw him she was a little frightened because she did not know who he was. Even after seeing him several times without his facial hair, she still reached out looking for his moustache today when she said good-bye.

My little granddaughter's attachment to her other grandfather reminded me of a story that Muriel/Mom used to tell about her grandfather Will Harkness. Will was a tall handsome man who served for awhile as a sheriff. He reminds me a lot of Eldon Neves.
If I remember the story correctly, Will Harkness had lots of brown hair but as sometimes occurs he had a contrasting moustache. One day Will decided that he was going to have his red moustache dyed brown to match his hair. When he got home from the barbershop with his brown moustache, instead of running to meet their dad, his children fled in terror. They cried and wanted to know where their real father was. The next day Will returned to the barbershop to have his facial hair returned to its original color.

Several years ago, I had a chance to visit with Muriel's brother Archie. He was the last surviving sibling of her family. Since it had been years since Mom had told me about the moustache, I asked him about his memories and he told me he didn't recognize the story. I have a feeling though that my vague memory of this story of Will Harkness is true. His tiny dark haired wife always said that he was the most handsome man in the world.

Muriel's Memories

While visiting Margaret Brooks recently, I got a copy of Muriel's Memories. The memories consist of five handwritten pages in Muriel's writing. The pages are of memories from her childhood and are so vivid that I have no trouble visualizing her and her family. Unfortunately the last page must have been on a larger page because portions of the sentences on the right and left are missing. The following is my typed copy of the first four pages of her remembrances:


Muriel's Memories

I'm not certain whether some of the early recollections of my childhood come from remembering or from talking about them with other members of the family. I remember there was a trapdoor into the basement in our house on Elm Street – there was also a china doorknob on the bathroom door.
I can remember visiting Uncle Frank when we lived in the house Ruby and Bob Barfus now live in. He worked in the mill and they were very well off. Doug had s many toys and Uncle Frank had a crystal set everyone was excited about. You listened through earphones.
Uncle Frank had some racing dogs which he used to pull us home on the toboggan.
Verna Tool had a beautiful doll that I fell in love with. She had received it for Christmas. Uncle Ted let me take it home since I didn't want to part with it. Mother and Dad spirited it away while I slept and returned it to Verna.
Hazel can tell more about our move to the hill since she was in charge of Margaret and I. I remember how exciting it was as the house hadn't been cleaned very well and there were so many interesting things left behind – picture developing powder that exploded.
Mother and Dad bought the cows when we lived in the house next door. I believe they bought them down from Tilley. I well remember one of the cows had long horns as she bunted me and tossed me in the air. I was given a re mule's calf we called Pud. I remember a birthday party the folks gave me – I believe my sixth – Bud was invited, we had jello and I received a top you started with a string. It was my job to wash the dishes. I didn't wash the bowls or kettles so had to boil more water and start over. When pouring the boiling water into the dish pan, everything tipped over. I cut and scalded my foot. I remember crying for a doctor while mother and dad saw to my injuries. I was 5 or 6 at the time.
We couldn't move out of the house next door fast enough as it was infested with bed bugs. On hot nights we'd move out of our beds and sleep anywhere – on the grand piano – on the landing. I used to walk in my sleep. I always slept with Hazel – she said I got up on the narrow foot railing but woke up when I stepped on the cold vent in the bathroom.
When we moved to the hill, there weren't any fences so the older children would have to herd the cattle and babysit Margaret and I. Hazel would read to us under a gunny sack shade that was made by propping sticks. We had one horse that would always lie down in whatever water we came to - slough or creek. As children to mount the horse, we'd have to walk miles to find anything to stand on. We had a little black horse “Tiny” that we could do anything with – crawl under her belly etc. We also had a horse “Doll” that pulled a 2 wheel cart. One day out on the prairie where they were cutting sod – I found some spoons and pretty containers so decided to bring them home. The rattle of the containers spooked the horse and she started running and didn't stop until she lost one of the wheels turning into the barnyard.
One of the scary times was when Hazel got kicked in the eye by the horse. Hazel always read to us. We had an old kerosene lamp off a car that we'd light so she could read after the light was turned off.
We four girls slept in the room Margaret still has. Marg and I would play cutouts with paper dolls from the catalogue. We also played with colored marbles – the dolls were the children. Everyone had to pick their way across the room since we had the floor marked off in the room in houses etc.
One of my nicest memories is of the warm comfortable feeling I had when my father carried me to bed. We had one of the first radios on the hill so Grandma, Grandpa, and Bud would come over to hear the Chicago barn dance. A bed was made on the dining room table for Bud, Marg and I to sleep on. At first we didn't have any furniture in the dining room and living room. Then when Mother and Dad had enough money to pay cash they bought a dining room suite and a chesterfield suite. Our evenings centered around these two rooms as we did homework and listened to the radio at the same time.
I remember I was visiting Lavoys when the backroom was built on. It must have been in the process of being built for sometime but I remember how I suddenly realized how much had been accomplished when Lavoys brought me home early because I was homesick.
Another warm memory is of mother singing to us while she cooked especially at Christmas time making the cake and her date filled oatmeal cookies. We'd coax her to sing “The Letter Edged in Black.” the three “friskies” promising we wouldn't cry. We always cried. I also remember borrowing books from the library and reading to mother while she sewed.
Dad had a beautiful singing voice but most of his singing was done while milking the cows. He used to wake Marg and I with “the bell she blows – the whistle she go by” “oh how I'd hate to go to school today.”
We always won the prize for being the first shipper to the dairy on Christmas Day – Marg and I got the family up at 3 a.m. It seemed like forever until we could go to Grandma's to see what Santa had brought Toots, Len, Jim and Bud.
I remember Grandpa Toole coming home from the movies and telling mother the show – acting out the parts – while mother ironed clothes. I always went over to Grandma and Grandpa's on my birthdays and would stand shyly at the door waiting to tell Grandpa it was my birthday. He'd give me a dime – then I'd run home. When Len and Jim were courting and brought Verna and Mabel home, I stood at the door – they'd give me a piece of cake and I'd dash home to share it with Margaret.
Marg and I were together all the way through school except in grade 8 when they decided to separate us. Oh how I cried. That was the only year we had a girl friend – besides each other.
Other beautiful memories are of Momma rocking me when I was sick or had earache. I remember having earache and having a hot iron wrapped and put under my pillow. She also rocked Margie and sang to her. As a wee tiny girl Marg would fall asleep with her hands at Mother's neckline.
There are memories of Margie leading me to school in the winter as my glasses would frost over with having a scarf pulled up over my mouth and nose. Of sticking my tongue on the rail of the Dunmore Hill creek bridge. Of freezing my nose, morning, noon, and night until it was a little red ball. Of sliding down snow drifts until our clothes were wet then sneaking home and changing clear to our long underwear and hoping Momma wouldn't find out so we'd be spanked. How in the spring we'd chase minnows in the creek by tucking our dresses in our matching panties driving the minnows into the sacks the boys held. We filled the water trough and every jar we could find with pollywogs and minnows. Then the folks would have to clean the water trough.
How wonderful it was to get out of those long underwear come spring. Oh the bumps the folds make under our lisle stockings when we had to fold the legs to make them fit tight.
Remember the time I won the money at the carnival - $50.00. Marg and I each got a new blue cardigan and the folks bought a box of apples.
We'd like it when Mom went to town – she'd always bring home a treat. Maybe she'd go once or twice a year – an occasion. Dad took the milk to the dairy...and bought lots … used to keep the walnuts, coconut etc locked up in the drawer of the bureau – we'd sneak it and eat it then there wouldn't be anything when baking time came.