Faces


Abel Grant Weaver




Cousin Lynn shared this with me during our wonderful day together. I feel I must share this to give a short underline or highlight in the legacy of faith we all share in this the library of our past. This one is good for young minds and is good to strengthen the faith of all of us. But first, I must give our connection as family.
Lynn Cummings, along with Terry Weaver, and Debbie Weaver Kruger have this wonderful story of their father (Uncle Grant) while he was on his mission. They will have to tell us where he served (Georgia). Background is in the late thirty's and Uncle Grant Weaver (dad's younger brother by two years) and His companion are about to start a day of tracking or door to door knocking, and was in the routine of all missionaries then and is still.
It will be most difficult on this day, for a hot nourishing breakfast, lunch and dinner will be absence from the schedule of things. The day before underscored the same. The money sent from home had been used to the penny and there was no more until the mail and a letter from home.
With the door shut, and key in hand, the young missionaries leave their apartment, the constant growl of hunger to accompany their walk. Determined they press on to face a world of silence and in difference to their cause. They had knelt with opened hearts in earnest prayer, just minutes before, asking our Father in Heaven, for His protection and guidance to do the days work.Tthere in humility they petitioned Him for food to give them strengthen to do the work the Lord required of them each day.
So with determination and faith they walked and sought the one among the crowd of broken hearts and glazing eyes. Their faith,. the Lord would answer their voice and, gave them strength to carry on. The appetite, their hunger changed, to finding souls. The day developed and door after door had the same outside color and blended into nothingness.
They returned to their tiny little space, in sorrow and despair,and memories of home and the bounties of their mother's dinner table pressed heavily upon their minds cutting deeply the darkness of the approach night. Very tired they opened the apartment door. The light from the hall behind them illuminates the kitchen table and there in their view a loaf of bread, hot and fresh, smelling up the room and filling their spirits,too. And so it was that two missionaries's prayers were answered and their faith renewed.
Through the next letter home, Elder Weaver wrote of the miracle to his family and how as missionaries their faith had been strengthen. It was also a source of great faith for all the Weaver family for grandmother Weaver baked twelve loaves of bread every other day for her large family's meals. It was discovered that the day the missionaries received that marvelous blessing was the day one loaf went missing on her cooling rack. She had made twelve but only eleven were placed in her pantry. A mother's prayer, I am sure was answered too.
Prayer of faith Yes! An answer,Yes! In a miraculous way.Yes! It is true? Yes!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDFATHER!

Sitting at the computer tonight, I was seeking to feel inspired.  I thought I should write about the Dickson line, but I then felt most impressed to continue with the Cleveland line.  I last shared how I met Henry Rogers Cleveland, But tonight I felt impressed to share his father, Henry Alanson Cleveland's Story.




I was not sure why until I read his birthdate:  Grandfather would have been 206 on this very day!

Ann Slade (Rogers)

Henry Alanson Cleveland

Henry and Ann met and married in 1830.  Ann was a widow and the daughter of Mary Knight.  It can only be assumed that because Ann's mother Mary was the sister of Joseph Knight their introduction to the Church of Jesus Christ occurred.

They were among the first 150 members of the Church of Jesus Christ.  Strong faith was needed in the early days of the Church.  Henry and Ann soon joined the saints in Missouri during tumultuous times.  The Missourians and the Mormons shared little in common- they differed religiously,culturally, and politically. Tensions rose and guns flared.  Henry was wounded at the battle of Blue River on November 4, 1833- He carried the bullet to the grave-
A SYMBOL OF HIS FAITH
They traveled with the early Saints through the days of tumult in Clay to Jackson and then from Liberty to  Far West.  It was at Far West that Mary and Ann had their third child, Henry in 1844.  By 1838, the Clevelands were among the saints expelled from Missouri.

With their fearless faith, Henry and Ann traveled with the saints to Nauvoo where Henry Alanson served as bodyguard to the the prophet Joseph.  As Neighbors to the prophet Joseph, young Henry carried milk and butter to the home of Joseph Smith.  It was in Nauvoo that Henry received his endowment before the expulsion of the Saints in Nauvoo.




In 1846 Henry and Ann began farming just outside of Council Bluffs.  Within 6 years, the couple sold their farm with adequate supplies to join Captain Werner's ox train.  On October 3, 1852, the Cleveland family reached the Salt Lake Valley just in time for fall the fall conference of the church.  

By 1852 the Clevelands had rooted themselves in nearby Centerville where Henry and his two sons laid adobe brick int he construction of the "Old Fort Wall" and constructed a tiny log cabin made from timber from the nearby canyon--dragged and hewed by hand- just as their faith.
Henry died in 1867 and Ann joined him in 1872.

Their faith was fueled during tumultuous days--- this fire carried them on...


Name:Henry Alanson Cleveland
[Henry Alanson Cleaveland] 
Birth Date:1809
Birth Place:New York
Death Date:1867
Death Place:Utah
Father:Sereign Cleveland
Mother:Martha Drake
Wives:Slade, Ann (3)
Quorum:Presidency of Q18
Nauvoo Data:Baptized 1830 OH; Child born in Clay MO, Nauvoo IL; Endowed Nauvoo Temple 1/20/46 (Seventy); Wounded far west
Post-Nauvoo Data:Centerville UT
Sources:M10:379; N157; S54; Q18+
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Faces- Ancestral Quest
How I met Henry
It was on my ancestral pilgrimage that I found myself kneeling before Henry's headstone....  I had begun my quest in search of my ancestors who first joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints- and then I met Henry (the maternal father  of my paternal great grandfather- hence my great, great, great grandfather).


As the son of Henry Alanson Cleveland and Anna Slade Rogers, Henry was born into the Church of Jesus Christ in its infancy and his.  His parents were among the first 150 members of the church of the restoration.  Henry was born in Clay County, Missouri on October 8, 1834.  His faith brought hardship and persecution-- he grew in the church during perilous times. A time when mobs in search of Mormons ran freely.

 At Age 22, Henry crossed the plains.  Having been in the valley nearly four years, he joined a number of young men who were sent back to help a group of saints still crossing the plains.  It was during this adventure that Henry met the young Scotch girl, Margaret Boyack who was a member of this company of saints.  The two were sealed in the Endowment  House in Salt Lake upon its completion.  Henry and Margaret were the parents of ten children.


Henry was known for his stone cutter skills.  He worked on the Salt Lake temple for a $1.25 a day.  He would walk from his home in Centerville on Sunday Evening carrying his food for the upcoming week. He rented a room with a fellow worker in Salt Lake during the week. After working a full 6 days, Henry returned home to Centerville on Saturday evening only to repeat the route the following day. 
My parents standing in front of
Henry's handiwork.


It was during his work as a stone mason at the Salt Lake temple that Henry lost his sight the sight in one of his eyes.  Unfortunately, while chiseling away at the hard granite a bit of stone went flying and struck his eye.





In addition to the stone Henry shaped for the Salt Lake Temple, he also shaped the cornerstones for the old Centerville meeting house.  He was also a skilled maker of willow baskets and a fine carpenter.  Henry known for his honesty, industrious nature, and honor- a fine husband and father.  He died in Centerville on September 20, 1909.


Old Centerville meeting house








 I go to their graves to pay tribute.... to say thank you- but I can't say it enough--- I stand and I remember -and they whisper to me their stories...and my faith is strengthened once again.
Pioneer stories have inspired me since I was young, but it was not a passion I have sought, but rather it found me.  I have been searching records  since I was 18, but it is the stories that keep drawing me back.  
It's as if  my ancestors tell them to me themselves...


Searching for John
My ancestral quest last week sent me to 10 graveyards and 40 graves- one of them was the Grave of John Dickson at the old Pioneer Cemetery in Lehi, Utah
John was the first of the Dickson line  to join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  "The Good News of the Gospel" was brought to his Canadian doorstep by Elders John E. Page and David Blakesley in 1836. 
John was the first born son to David Dickson and Sarah Church in Cambridge, Washington, New York.   John had two older sisters, Mary and Sarah and two younger siblings Nathaniel and Nancy.  John's father, David, left the land of Scotland at age 20 and came to New York State in 1774.  It can only be assumed that David was well educated and industrious since he bought and sold tracks of land. 
 Perhaps, it was the search for new land and broader horizons that called David  and  his wife Sarah to Canada. As a result, John enjoyed his boyhood in Canada where he hunted bear in the woods and ice skated on the frozen waters of Lake Rideau.
John married Marry Henderson the daughter of David Henderson, an United empire loyalist.  Her father, David, fled the colonies during the Revolutionary War to the land of Canada.
Having been introduced to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, John journeyed with his sons to Kirtland Ohio in the fall of 1837 where he received his Patriarchal Blessing by the prophet's father, Joseph Smith Senior.  
On May 19, 1838  John, Mary and four of their married children, left Canada with a company of 30 wagons under the leadership of John E. Page. The family spent a few years in the  Wisconsin Lead mines securing means to come to Utah.  After which, They moved to Monroe County, Iowa where they spent two years. Their next stop along their journey to Zion was to Pig Pigeon, Iowa where John's son Billa raised 17 acres of corn.   John spent the years of 1846-47 in Winter Quarter as part of Ward 11. In 1850, their next stop along their journey to Zion was to Pig Pigeon, Iowa where John bought a farm the following spring.In 1851 in Kanesville, Iowa John buried his wife Mary. After Marry's passing, John's son Billa sold his farm and purchased two yoke of cattle and a two yoke of oxen.

In 1852, at the age of 71 John and his children joined the John B. Walter Company and came to Zion. John's son Billa(37) and wife Mary Ann(34) accompanied John  in this company as well as their children Albert Douglass (12), Alvira Aurelia (6), Judson Stoddard (9), Samantha Jane (14) and William Henderson (2).  John's brother Stewart (25) and wife Mary Jane Champlin (22), and son William Stuart (1) were also in this company.


 The family settled in American Fork.  However, John is buried at the old Pioneer Cemetery in Lehi. The present day cemetery in Lehi was not established until 1868-- our search for John was turning cold... fortunately, the sexton at the Lehi Cemetery gave us the following information.  In the late 1860's the railroad cut its tracks through present day historic Lehi  and right through the cemetery.  This crossing necessitated that the existing graves be moved.  However, grave records were not kept at this date.  So only those graves which were known by the townspeople or current family residents were relocated to Lehi's present day cemetery.(At this time records indicate that John's son and grandson were farming in Kaysville (1859) and Richiville (1863)).
My Father Kimball, pays tribute to his great, great great grandfather, John Dickson.

Our John is there near the railroad crossing... with no tombstone to mark his grave.  My grandfather, a man of enormous faith who crossed the plains at age 71 was buried here on this little spot of land.





My 22 year dance with the Reverend




I first met the Reverend Anthony Stoddard when I was 18.  At that time, I was working on my Laurel Project in order to complete my Young Womanhood Award (I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints).  My Laurel project entailed the gathering of my genealogical records and organizing them into a Book of Remembrance.  This is when my “love affair” with family history began… and in a sense my courtship with the Reverend.

My grandparents, Max Dickson Weaver and Ruth Mabel Stoddard (Kimball) Weaver both descend from the Reverend and his second wife Mary Sherman… in fact, their family lines cross at the Reverend’s son Abijah Stoddard who Married Joanna Curtis. Abijah Stoddard  died on May 6, 1776 drowning at the Battle of Crown Point, NY during the Revolutionary War. Grandma descends from Anthony and grandpa from Icabod.  Yep, my grandparents were “kissin’ cousins” too.

The Reverend was a colonial Clergyman of Woodbury, Litchfield, Connecticut.  He was born August 9, 1678 and died September 6, 1760 at age 82.  Anthony, the reverend’s, father was also a follower of Christ- Solomon Stoddard was a Pastor at Northampton church, Massachusetts.  At age 19, the reverend Anthony graduated from Harvard with an A.B. Degree.  In 1715, he obtained his A.M. degree also from Harvard.  Following in his Father’s footsteps he was ordained the minister of the First Congregational Church in Woodbury, Litchfield, Connecticut on May 27, 1702- at a mere 24 years of age.  He continued in this stead for 60 years. 

In exchange for his service as the Reverend, the congregation built him a house, (he was to provide the nails and glass) dug him a well, gave him 115 acres of land and paid him 70 pounds per year.  This house was deeded to the Reverend after 6 years of service.   At that time, he became as rich as the most opulent farmer in the area.  His house consisted of 3 floors.  On the first floor the probate courts for the district were held for forty years, on the second floor was the portico also where he as Parson prepared his sermons.  This property is located in a beautiful valley with hoary Castle Rock as a background. 

In 1714, The Reverend’s first wife Prudence Wells Stoddard died at age 32 during childbirth.  Leaving him with 8 young children to raise, he married Mary Sherman of Woodbury.  She and the Reverend had three children one of which Abijah Stoddard from which both my grandparents descend.  Mary, likewise died of childbirth in 1721 at age 29.  The Reverend then married Hannah.

The Reverend was a man of great statute.  He was known to drive off the Indians during the raids of 1708, quiet the fearful settlers during the rare appearance of the Great Northern Lights in 1719, and care for the citizens of the community during the outbreak of Typhoid fever in 1727 to which he lost four of his adult children and the community itself lost 44 villagers.  In 1741, the Reverend Anthony was appointed to teach an Indian named Achetoset and his family Christianity after Achetoset petitioned the community for the knowledge of the “Christian Revolution”

As a product of the times, Reverend Anthony owned slaves and preached in a church where seating was assigned by rank where people of “color” were assigned the balcony and where the women were separated from the men in pews.

In spite of the location of his parish, the Reverend rose in prominence often preaching 3 sermons every Sunday, he also possessed degrees in theology, medicine, and law.  The members of the community described their pastor as “an all-around man, broad minded, incessantly useful, brave, generous, and benign.  He was also elected a trustee of Yale University where a portrait of him remains a collection of the Yale University Art Gallery.


So, twenty- two years later I have finished my “dance” with the Reverend.  I have shared his story- shared his joy.  I firmly believe his great faith as a Reverend planted the seeds of a desire to know Christ in the hearts of his descendents.  So much so, that when young boy Prophet Joseph Smith restored the gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth, young missionaries were led to and invited into the homes of the Reverend’s descendents Charles Stoddard and cousin Mary Ann Stoddard. A chain of  faith was forged in the Reverend’s posterity.  It was passed to the parents and grandparents of Max and Ruth, “the Kissin’ Cousins” and then to me their granddaughter and their 36 other grandchildren. I pray I will not weaken this great chain of faith!  Thank you Reverend… I have enjoyed this dance!







The Mystery of Jane Nelson Morgan Patterson
-it happened again
I wasn't even looking for her, rather she found me.  It was a hot summer afternoon in Beaver, Utah and I just happened to be in between baseball games.... So I began to wander in the adjacent cemetery.  I was retracing my steps from years of visiting and remembering my ancestors... and then there she was.
I knew nothing of her simply that she was my ancestor. 

However, I was compelled to discover her story.  So for over a year, I searched for her wanting to know more- but found nothing.
And then just last week while on a family research trip with my mother- I found her story.  And it was just by happenstance...

Mom and I were at the Beaver DUP. We had found some great stuff when as I went to exit, I noted a plaque with the names of Beaver's first settlers- and there she was- Jane Patterson.
And then that discovery led to a mystery unsolved- the wonderful story of Jane Nelson Morgan Patterson.

Jane was born on February 2, 1815 in Scotland to Edward Neilson and Catherine Banks.  She was the daughter of a coal miner.  Her family had been mining coal for generations and would most likely continue in that grim legacy as tradition and politics of the 19th century and prior dictated.  Most likely Jane would die young like most coal miners.

Jane married Thomas Morgan on July 26, 1834.  He died just four years later.  Her sister Matilda married his brother William Morgan.  Thomas died just four short years later- the cause unknown.

The pieces of Jane's life are sparse- yet somewhere after the year 1838 she hears the "good news" of the gospel and becomes a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  In Saint Louis in 1851, Jane marries Andrew Patterson.  Patterson is a widower with four children.  They turn their trek towards Zion and in Council Bluffs, Iowa Jane gives birth to their first born son-  He weighed only 2 1/2 pounds.
I can only imagine the hardship Jane endured caring for such a small infant.  Jane persevered by caring the young infant on a pillow in her apron across the plains.  He was not properly clothed until the family reached the valley on July 1, 1852 with an independent wagon train. 
Their first home was at farm owned by Issac Crosby in Big Cottonwood.  In 1853 Jane and Andrew head south to Cedar city where Andrew worked in the mines.  They lived in a dugout all winter.  Finally, they completed their first proper home, a log cabin where Jane gave birth to their daughter, Catherine.  
Tragedy once again found Jane when two sons Andrew (1855) and Alexander (1856) die of starvation.

In the Beaver valley, they made their next home where Jane gave birth to their sixth son, John, on August 7, 1864- the home was not yet complete with doors or windows.  Jane and Andrew welcomed their last daughter, Martha just six months before Jane turned 50.

Jane was the first woman doctor in the area to hold a medical degree- she delivered 500 babies.  She also doctored people with all sorts of ailments.  Jane died on August 28, 1878 at age sixty-one in Beaver Utah.

It was just a headstone- but Jane had a story she wanted told.  And even though my husband teases me- I am a grave whisperer.  I am so grateful that Jane's grave whispered to me on that sunny June day in 2013- her story changed me!
My next mystery- where will it take me?
Disneyland 2012 with dad, Heather and Wendy
Me, dad, and baby sister Heather
 Sometimes in life, we just get lucky- and we don't even know it.  It has taken me nearly 40 years to appreciate the magnitude of my luck- Yep, I was lucky to get him, Max Kimball Weaver, as my father!

 Now growing up, I rarely appreciated the gem of a man he was.  All I saw was what he wasn't- To my young eyes and ears his speech was broken, he wore funny glasses, his clothes didn't ever seem to match, his laughter was a howl, and he was what most called awkward. 
Family picture 1974
 I could tell you many stories like the  famous Slurpee stop  on the way to grandma and grandpa Weaver's house or the time he backed up into the new basketball standard I had just purchased and neglected to tell me about it.  Today, those stories simply make me giggle.  

Dad and Bud, Uncle Kurt
 Rather, he taught me what it means to cherish, to help, and to serve one's family.   I loved it when my dad would get together with his brother, Kurt.  They were like kids again... they were so close and so happy together!
My family, Disneyland 2012
Dad and our oldest son Seleck
 Growing up my dad rarely had a buck in his pocket, but as a grandfather of 33 he continues to work long hours after retirement for his large brood.  There is nothing he wouldn't do for anyone of them....
 As a grandfather, he is kind, soft spoken, and helpful!
Dad and our baby Maleck

Heather, me, Michael, mom, dad, Kim, Wendy, Cleve, and Chris- Grandma Weaver's funeral
 As a father, he taught we 7 to work hard, to serve in the church, to serve one's neighbors, to go to the temple often, to get an education, to love America, and to be honest.
 As a son, he honored and served his parents until the day they  each died.  Grandma Weaver always said that they threw away the mold after they made Kimball.  
My dad was 2 years old when his dad was called to war- he served for two years.


 Bud or Jake as we affectionately call him was born to Ruth and Max on  April 4, 1941 in Helper Utah.  Max and Ruth were raised in the depression. The old saying "fix it up, wear it out, make it do or do without" was deeply embedded in his child rearing.  My father has always paid his debts.  His life is simple yet beautiful!


dad as a boy with his father Max
 I love my dad.  I love the boy he was,  and the man he became.  He has taught we so much about what really matters in life. 
dad as a boy
 My father has lived an honorable life- he is not rich or famous, but each of his seven children graduated from college, the boys served missions, and each child married in the temple- I would say he is successful- 
My father's family- back- Kimball, Scott, grandpa, Kurt, Wynn
Front- Katherine, grandma, and Ruth Kay
How grateful I am for the knowledge that families are forever... I sure love mine!



In Search of Sara Ann
The faces and names of my ancestors don't seem to escape me-- I remember their names and I am driven to discover their stories.  My discovery of Sara Ann Norris was perhaps an accident, but her story is a miracle.  In June 2013, we traveled with our "Fab Five" to Martin's Cove in honor of my husband's ancestor, Ann Jewell Rowley.  Little did I know that my own ancestor, Sara Ann Norris was also part of this ill fated company as well.  Sara Ann was 22 and single.  She joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Somerset England and migrated to "Zion" with her sister Cecelia Norris who was 26.  
The story goes that while in perilous times her hair became frozen to the ground and had to be cut off on one snowy, desperately cold morning-- a small symbol of her sacrifice.
It is said the bonnet she wore while crossing with the Willie Handcart company is on Display in Parowan, Utah at the Old Rock Church....
My search to know more of Sara continues....

Fourth Hand-Cart Company—Capt. J. G. Willie.



FROM ENGLAND.J. [James] G. Willie, William Woodward, John Chislett, Thomas Moulton and family, Jesse Impey and family, Wm. Reed and family, Ann [Foulks] Osborn, Joseph Oborn and family, Sarah Charles [Chowles], William Edwick, Alfred Peacock, Jeminia [Brown] Rogers and daughter, Mary P. [Priscilla] Griffiths, Susannah Stone, Mine A [Minnie Ann] Cook, Sarah A [Ann] Williams, Esther [Young] Millard, Elizabeth Tite, Betsey [Elizabeth Gent] Stanley, Mary A Stockdale, Julia and Emily Hill, Amelia Evans, Cicella [Cecelia] and Sarah Norris, Mary A [Ann] and Adelaide Cooper, David Reader and family.


That first winter, Jenkin courted Sarah Ann Norris from England. She was the daughter of William and Cecilia Norris. Sarah Ann was also a handcart pioneer, but she was fated to be a member of the Fourth Company, the tragic Willie Company. She and her sister, Cecelia, survived the late-starting, snowy, starving handcart trek. Cecelia's husband succumbed to the cold and starvation after the rescue party had arrived. Sarah Ann and Cecelia were called to go to Parowan to settle. Both married Parowan boys. They were married June 29, 1857 in Parowan, Utah. To them were born nine children: Jenkin Abraham, Cecelia Spencer, William Alonzo, Sarah Ann, Thomas Henry, Deborah Mandora, Fredrick Veltus, John Arthur, and Charlotte May. Pioneering wasn't over for Jenkin, when he and Sarah Ann had only three children, they were called by the Church authorities to go east over the mountain to Panguitch and establish a settlement there. In 1864, Jenkin, his family and a few other Parowan families, packed up and moved to Panguitch. They tried hard to till the soil and make permanent homes, but the Indians were so bad that the mission was temporarily closed. In 1866 the families were sent back to Parowan. While in Panguitch Jenkin and Sarah welcomed a daughter into their home. The rest of the children were all born in Parowan. Jenkin and Sarah Ann opened their home to travelers. They called it the Evans Hotel. Travel by horse and buggy was the norm for drummers (traveling salesman) and others. Travelers could stay at the Evans Hotel and enjoy a bed and meal. Because Jenkin was often gone hauling freight, it was usually Sarah Ann and the children who ran the Hotel and farm.






My father served a mission for the LDS Church, the Mormons, in The Southern Australian mission.  He is pictured here at an Australian road sign.  This picture instantly brought a smile to my face.  I think sometimes I forget that this now 71 year old man was ever young.  He poses nonchalantly and smiles with the joy he finds in serving God.  I have been combing through my parents' old photo albums, books, and memorabilia in preparation for their 50th wedding anniversary celebration.  In this process, I came across an old scrap book which my grandmother Ruth Mabel Stoddard Kimball Weaver put together for my father.  In the very back of the book, there was an old wallet .  Inside, the wallet I found several jewels,  junk to most others, but to me a tribute to my father and his love of the gospel of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.. Perhaps they are the keys to serving an honorable mission.  In this wallet, I found the secrets of a life well lived....

 The contents contained therin:
1.  Two copies of the Scout Oath or promise
2. A photo of his family
3. A copy of the 1961-62 MIA theme with a depiction of Nephi quieting the murmurs of his brothers
  "I  will go and do the things which the Lord  hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men. save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.
4. A Smokey the Bear mini pamphlet issued by the bushfire Research Committee South Australia-  Maybe it was meant him to be prepared for disasters...
5  A photograph of his grandparents, Leo and Marie Kimball (his namesake).
6.  A miniature copy of the Church Welfare plan
7.  An address of Ardella Ford with  "A Marvelous Work and a Wonder"  printed above it.
8. A piece of paper with the following scriptures :  John 17:3, Gen 1:26-28, Luke 24: 36-39, Acts 1:9-11, Heb. 1: 1-3, and Acts 7:54.
9.  A picture of his younger brother Kurt Stoddard Weaver (They were very close.  Kurt passed away nearly two years ago... I am sure my dad misses him everyday).
10.  A recipe for Barley water
11. .  A business card for a radiator service, Burnie Automotative
12.  2 photos of himself... one in a Cedar High Football uniform
13.  A quote by Brigham Young, the 2nd President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The quote says, "  My experience has taught me, and it has become a principle with me, that it is never of any benefit to give  out and out to to man or woman, money, food, clothing or anything else, if they are able bodied and can  work and earn what they need, when there is anything on earth for them to do.  This is my principle and I try to act upon it.  To pursue a contrary course would ruin any community in the world and would make them idlers.
14
.  A card issued by  President David O. Mckay on November 2, 1960  calling my father to serve as a missionary.

Sisters and Sno Cones


Under the shadows of the elm trees we grew up in our little red brick house on 2nd East.  Sunshine and laughter sprinkle my memories.  We were poor, but I didn't seem to mind it when my fingers were chubby. Life here was an adventure. The 4th of July 1977,  this day brought sno cones and the coveted balloon.  Baby sister was 9 months old in this pic.  Today she turned 36.  So hard to grasp -- we are grown now  and have children of our own.  Our little house on 2nd East is still there with all of its echoes, and he Elm trees seem to wave to me when I  return to remember.  Its as if they remember too.

  Many of our neighbors left years ago- death came for each of them.  Mom and dad have since left the neighborhood.  They raised the 7 of us well.  We were taught frugality, hard work and perseverance.  Mom could feed all 7 of on one can of tuna.   Dad attended the temple monthly if not weekly.  His faith sustained him. 

Those were the days when a band aid and a butter knife seem to cure all life's ills.   There was little money.  We wore hand me downs, built forts and played baseball.  Dad worked three jobs and mom made homemade bread and food from scratch.  We drank whole milk and delivered newspapers. Grandpa Hofheins was a farmer and grandpa Weaver was an art professor.  We cut our own Christmas trees and went on wood hauling excursions--- each one has a great story.   

Heather was the baby of 7.  She never went to the grocery store until she was 7 or older.  She was the first baby I ever saw;  I was three when she was born.  Heather came home from the hospital in a stocking... we have always called her our holiday baby!To me she was simply beautiful with all of that black curly hair.  As a little girl, she used to say, "I was burn with a perm."  I loved holding her chubby little hands.  Her twos were terrible.  We could never find her shoes.  The six of us taught her to walk while mom and dad were gone.  When I think of her today, I see her  standing up in her pink footie pajamas, banging  her crib against the wall until Wendy and I would rescue her.  She snuggled between us in our small double bed in our little  pink bedroom.  

Happy Birthday sis!  I love you!