Thanks so much to my mom for helping complete this journey- My memories of my uncle are scant---he was the man in bed who grandma looked after while grandpa worked the farm and then we buried him. We remain as his story keepers!
Life Story—Edward Irel Hofheins
Compiled by Janet Hofheins Weaver with anecdotal stories by
Edward Bernell Hofheins (niece and
nephew of Irel Hofheins)
On May
16,1912, a baby boy was born to John Michael Hofheins and Martha Jane Morgan.
He was to be the oldest of four children and they named him Edward Irel
Hofheins. His younger siblings were: Cecil (who died as a child), Ora Cleve (our father)
and Mattie. He was born in Beaver, Utah and spent his entire life there except
for the time he served his country in the military. According to Military Records, he was a
private (even though we remember always thinking he attained the rank of
Sargent).
We know
very little about his childhood (other than that it was pretty much like that
of other boys being raised on the farm during that period of time). He finished
Grammar School and then dropped out to help his father on the farm and in other
ways in order to make money for the support of the family. For instance, they hauled
wood and sold it and hauled freight to and from Milford (a railroad town about
40 miles from Beaver).
On October 1, 1942, (at the age of 30) he
enlisted in the U.S. Army. World War II
was taking place and the United States was recruiting all healthy young men.
Irel was probably one of the older enlistees.
His brother Ora probably would have enlisted also, but at that time the
government was suggesting that those who were married and had children, were
responsible for parents or for a farm probably should not enlist. Ora met all of the criteria. Their father had
married when he was older and was (at that point in time) in his 70’s, and
having worked as a brick layer and builder throughout his life was in poor
health. So, Ora stayed home, and Irel went to war.
Irel
enlisted “for the duration of the War or other emergency, plus six months,
subject to the discretion of the President or otherwise according to the law.”
(U.S. World War II Army Enlistment Records, 1938-1946 about Edward I Hofheins) According to this same record he served in
Branch Immaterial-Warrant Officers, USA.
This included semi-skilled occupations in building of aircrafts. If he
were involved in building aircraft, he probably would have been stationed in
the United States. However, the few
stories that we remember definitely place him overseas (France and Germany),
and I seem to recall that he was a Mess Sargeant. On May 8, 1945, World War II
came to an end. I was four years old when the war ended and Bernell was almost
two. Needless to say our memories are
based on the few stories we heard as we got older.
He
was a quiet man who talked little and never really shared his feelings or experiences,
and to us (his nieces and nephews), he
was just “Uncle”. We seldom said Uncle Irel.
His friends and the guys he rode the range with called him “Ike”.
As we got
old enough to know him it seems that Uncle was just there, like a second
father. Dad told us that Uncle had never
married because he had fallen in love with a girl in (I thought France; Bernell
thought Germany). Even though our Dad tried to talk Uncle into sending for her
he didn’t, and so we became the closest thing he had to children. I do remember
that Uncle could do some tap dancing steps and that I thought he looked like Glen
Ford (the movie star). During the years
of our growing up, Bernell went to the field with Dad and Uncle more often than
I did and so he has more memories.
At this point I will share Bernell’s memories:
“I know Dad always said that he (Uncle)
and Grandpa did not have that great of a relationship. In fact Dad often said
that Grandpa died of a broken heart because of their relationship.
I know that when Uncle and I spent time either
on the farm or riding for cattle he never spoke of his time in the war. It runs in my mind that he attained the office
of Sargent in the service. One fall while gathering cattle his horse fell on
him and his foot was caught in the stirrup and the horse was pinned against a
tree, which was a good thing. Otherwise
he might have been badly hurt or killed. He was alone and yelled for help. I
don't recall who was with him, however that person heard him yell and found
him. At that time he was not wearing cowboy boots which is the reason his foot
was caught.
I received my first pair of boots that
Christmas from him, and I don't recall him wearing anything but boots after
that. He was always my advocate when we worked together, if I did anything
wrong and Dad would get after me, he would take my side. I remember vividly him
dancing with Grandma Morgan on the big front porch of their house. He was good
to her and his mother. He lived in a small four room house with them. I remember when he and Dad built
those two cinder block rooms on the north end of the house for Grandma Morgan.
I don't know for sure, but I don't think
Grandma Hofheins ever had desert for lunch because in the summers when we were
haying, we would go by the Dairy Queen
and get milk shakes. He would always buy and he always got chocolate.
I have often felt
bad that he was not active in the church. Uncle was great with young people as
long as they didn't mess with his hat. He
liked nice western hats and no one better mess with his. I recall one night at
the service station when a young man took his hat and ran with it. Uncle Irel
grabbed a willow from the back of some one’s truck and chased him across the
street beating him with the willow. I am sure everyone there got the message.
One time when I was a scout, our troop was
going to Cedar to go swimming. I don't recall if it was because of lack of money that I was not going or not, but
all I remember is that we were haying at the Creek bed meadow and him handing
me the money so I could go.
He liked to make things that made work on the
farm easier. One summer he built a
self-unloading hay wagon. He just used
things that were lying around. At the
time I thought we could have had the hay up while he was building the wagon,
but it worked and he was proud of it. When we put up the hay loose, Dad ran the derrick fork, I rode the horse and
Uncle stacked. I don't know how the order of things was established. That was
just the way it was. Old Bally was the derrick horse. She was good and all I had to do was sit
there. (*Hey brother dear—sometimes your
older sister rode the derrick horse).
I recall the day we were using the horse Bess,
I can't remember why, I just remember on the return trip to the derrick for the
next fork load she started to buck. When
she got to the end of the cable a part of the derrick flew across the hay stack
just missing Uncle, and my leg got caught in the back strap of the harness. That is all that kept me on. When the horse
stopped bucking they unhooked her and Uncle Irel got on her with a whip and
tried to get her to buck, but she wouldn't.
He was very protective of me. We
determined later that a bee must have stung her.
In my later teenage years he left the farm to
work drilling wells. The morning I left for my mission he was standing by the
stove in the living room and when I returned 30 months later he was there once
again. All though I don't recall him ever telling me he loved me; I think I just knew.
One night after
my mission, a girl I knew was at the service station waiting with her family
for their car to be fixed. She happened
to be clothed for summer, and since she had a long wait, I invited her to go for a ride while she
waited. Needless to say I got an ear full the next morning from Uncle
Irel. He had been there.” (Edward
Bernell Hofheins
I think we all knew Uncle loved us. When I left for
college, got married and began having my own family, I didn’t see much of him.
Life does that to us. We change and
circumstances change. I remember knowing that Uncle was ill. He had Emphysema. During World War II, the
cigarette companies said they were doing the soldiers a big favor by often
giving the soldiers free cigarettes. In many ways, they were the enemy because
they were killing those soldiers more slowly. I’m sure many of those young men
got hooked (addicted) to tobacco and like my Uncle died from Emphysema or
cancer later in their lives. I guess Uncle Irel continued smoking after he came
home and never quit. It’s funny, but I
never saw him smoke, and I never remember ever smelling cigarette smoke on him
or his clothes. However, some of my older sons say they saw him smoke.
Edward Irel
Hofheins died April 22, 1981 at the age of 68. He was in a small bedroom in my
parent’s home. Mom and Dad had been
taking care of him during his last days.
Sometimes I wonder, “Is he with the girl (woman) from France?”
”
c
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