FAMILY STORIES

I can neither confirm nor deny the truth of these stories. I’ve found that family lore usually contains a grain of truth, but often one generation is mixed up with another or facts get garbled.

POWs
Two of my Great grandfathers fought for the South during the Civil War. Both John Byrd and O.A. Robertson were taken prisoner by the Union. After a while, both were released on giving their oath that they would: (1) Never again take up arms against the Union; and (2) Go west and join the cavalry to fight Indians. They both did (1) but didn’t do (2). Source: Sid Robertson

QUANTRILL’S RAIDERS
As OA Robertson made his way west he ran into Quantrill’s Raiders - an infamous band of pro-Confederates who pillaged the countryside on the Kansas/Missouri border. My Dad said OA had known Quantrill before the war started. Quantrill invited OA to join the group. OA had given his word not to fight the Union anymore but felt sure he would be killed if he didn’t agree to join the group. For the sake of survival, OA agreed to join. He waited until members of the group were soundly asleep, got up, saddled his horse, and silently rode away. Source: Sid Robertson

CORINNE, UTAH
OA Robertson ran a 20 mule team freight outfit from Helena to Corinne, Utah the nearest railhead. Source: Sid Robertson

GOLD IN A CORNFIELD
After John Byrd's release from POW camp he returned to his Missouri farm. He hid in a cornfield and during the night came and saw his wife, Emmeline. John told her he was headed west. Then he accessed some or all of the gold he had buried in a cornfield. John had been part of the 1849 Gold Rush to California whence he acquired the gold. Source: Sid Robertson

NORTHERN SOLDIERS RAID PLANTATION
“When the Civil War began, Grandfather [John Byrd] enlisted and was very soon taken prisoner. During this time, Grandmother [Emmeline Owens Byrd] was alone on the plantation with the slaves to look out for her and her four children. Daddy, John Byrd [Jr.], was born January 9, 1862, and when he was a few days old, the Northern Army came through their plantation and took everything – all the food stored in the store house, including hams and bacon, etc.; all the livestock, including all the horses, except one lame mare. They ransacked the house while Grandmother and her tiny baby were lying in bed, and took everything of value. They could not load the barrels of sorghum, so they spit tobacco juice in it so she couldn’t use it. The slaves were hiding in the woods. You may be sure she hated the North with a venom.” One of the daughters of John Byrd Jr., possibly Nellie.

BURNED OUT WAGON TRAIN
“He [John Byrd] and the other men left by night and went to Colorado in 1863. Gold was discovered in Montana later and they went to Alder Gulch (now Virginia City) in 1864. I went through some of the old records there and found where he [John Byrd] signed for groceries. It looked so rich to them that he wrote Grandmother and said to get up a caravan and leave from St. Joe. She left their home in charge of her brother, freed the slaves and took her five children Henry, Rose, Robin, Clara, and Daddy. [She gives ages, but I know they are not all correct from my research]. They left St. Joe with a caravan, most neighbors, in May 1865 and arrived in September 1865. They had three wagons, some livestock and a milk cow, which they led behind one of the wagons, so they had milk for the children. They hung a pail of milk on the back of the wagon and that way they churned their butter.

When they crossed the Platte River it was high and a lot of the livestock were drowned, but they all came out fine.

Once they came upon a whole caravan that had been killed by Indians and scalped. Grandmother was so shocked, she said she wanted to take her little family and go back, but, of course, could not."
Source: Quoted from a paper by one of the daughters of John Byrd Jr., possibly Nellie. Heard wagon train story from Joanne – a granddaughter of Molly Byrd Cochrane. Also Emmeline Owens Obituary that I found in the Helena Independent, May 1894 mentions Emmeline driving the wagon with oxen across the plains.

I started this post with all kinds of different stories in mind. When I stumbled on a paper of Byrd stories, I ended up posting them. If people are interested in stories, next time I will have more stories from other branches of the family.

Weekend visitors

So when is everyone going to move here, so you don't have to be just visitors?

Insights from Flash Junior

Flash Jr., gazing out into the snow-covered fields: Are there rattlesnakes out there?

Me: The rattlesnakes are all curled up in their dens sleeping. They will sleep until spring time.

Flash Jr.: Rattlesnakes sure get a lot of rest!

The Miracle of the Kitchen Cupboards, Part 2

(Part of the kitchen cupboards. To the left was the fridge with an overhead cupboard and a then there was a full length pantry cupboard. We purchase the stove at a church rummage sale for $25.)

Story continued.....


For a while, it didn’t seem possible that I could ever have kitchen cupboards. Then, I remembered prayer. At first, I felt guilty about praying for something as superficial as kitchen cupboards. After all, I had a roof over my head and food to eat. There were lots of people in the world who would have thought our electricity, telephone service (even if it was an eight-party line), and running water made us wealthy beyond belief. I remember kneeling down in the living room and praying, “Heavenly Father I know there are people in Africa who don’t have enough to eat, but if I don’t get kitchen cupboards soon I am going to go crazy! Please help us find a way to get kitchen cupboards…..”


While I was coping with the mess of a cupboard-less kitchen my sister, Bev, and her husband, Joe, a Captain in the U .S. Coast Guard, were stationed in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. According to Bev, the only thing noteworthy about Elizabeth City was its proximity to the Great Dismal Swamp and a factory that made cabinets. Bev once mentioned to me that the cabinet company that sold their “seconds” out of a shop not too far from her house. “Seconds” were cabinets that didn’t quite make the grade as far as the manufacturer was concerned. For example, the finish on “seconds” was not up to the manufacturer’s specifications, or a “second” might have a small nick in it.

An imperfect finish or a nick seemed like a small matter to us, having no cupboards at all. Wilbur drew up a plan of the kitchen with measurement and explanations of the cabinets we would need and sent the drawing to Bev. She visited the shop on my behalf and found there was next to nothing in the shop that day. But the shop’s proprietor told her to keep checking back. The proprietor was dubious about the prospect of finding all the cabinets we needed for our kitchen, but he thought Bev might find one here and one there if she looked in from time to time. Overall, the prospect of rounding up enough cabinets from this source was not encouraging. For some inexplicable reason, though, I felt my prayer was heard. A faint hope and a spark of faith whispered to me that we would somehow get kitchen cabinets.

One day a few weeks later, Bev dropped in again at the cabinet shop. The man running the shop said, “Well you picked the right day to come in! I just got in a big shipment of cabinets. I have a list of people waiting for cabinets. Every one of these pieces has been spoken for on my list, but since you are here, I’ll let you have anything you want.” Bev found every type of cabinet we needed for our kitchen for $600.00. This was a miracle. A complete, unadulterated miracle equal to the parting of the Red Sea and walking on water. A miracle.

Next, we had the problem of how to get the cabinets from Elizabeth City, NC to Montana. The cost of shipping would easily exceed the price of the cabinets. We would have to save for another year come up with shipping costs, even if the economy improved and we had more work.

Miracle number two occurred. Bev and Joe were being transferred from Elizabeth City to Alaska. As is common for service families, they were coming to visit Mom and Dad and staying in our city for a few weeks between their tours of duty. The cabinets were still technically Spoja property. So they were packed with the Spoja belongings and delivered free of charge.

I will never forget the Saturday that Wilbur, with the help of our neighbor Roger Nummerdor (who just happened to be a carpenter) installed my kitchen cupboards. We tried to pay Roger, but he just waved any idea of money off. Being a native Montanan, Roger would no more take money for helping out a neighbor than he would insist on pay for helping his Mom change a flat tire.

At the end of that Saturday I stood back and admired my wonderful, complete kitchen. Counters, cupboards, a new stainless steel kitchen sink; this was luxury of the highest order! I could clean my kitchen and it looked clean! I had a place to chop vegetables. Opulence! Lavishness! If the finish was not up to par or any nicks existed in my kitchen cupboard “seconds,” I was blind to these circumstances. I enjoyed having those cupboards every hour I lived in that house.

I suppose there are some who would say my kitchen cupboards were the result of coincidence. To me this is as ludicrous as saying the breath-taking orchid, exquisite yellow bell, or unique shooting star exist merely as a result of evolution. I know that cannot be true. Yellow bells and shooting stars bear witness of a caring, loving Supreme Being who delights in showering us with blessings of all kinds, not just those that sustain our lives. My kitchen cupboards bear the same witness. A struggling young family of four living in a daylight basement house during a recession, we had the necessities of life and more. But Heavenly Father was not a disinterested observer in our lives who would rather not help us. He is not chintzy, and His help was not limited to assisting us with the necessities only. He had both love and compassion for the young mother who was struggling with the ugliness and disorder of block and board shelves. When that young mother prayed, He answered her prayer.

The Miracle of the Kitchen Cupboards, Part 1

It was 1980 and we were moving into our new house on Diamond Springs Drive, north of Lincoln Road. Even though it wasn’t finished, the house was an improvement over the 10 x 55 ft. Kit trailer we had lived in. But it didn’t have any kitchen cupboards, or any finished cupboards period. The floors were concrete which we had painted with a floor paint. The paint made it possible for us to be able to sweep the floors more easily and to prevent concrete dust from sweeping up every time we swept.

Over the next year, Wilbur did extra jobs after work and on Saturdays. This extra money allowed us scrape together enough to have carpets installed, but kitchen cupboards were far and away too costly. Having kitchen cupboards was about as possible for us as a second home in the Bahamas.

About a week after we moved into the house, lightening struck our well and fried the pump. A new pump was $1000. We had no money to pay for a new one, so Pacific Hide and Fur allowed us to purchase one on credit if we paid it off in a month. Paying off the new pump took all our money, so I had no money for groceries. We ate chicken pot pie almost every day for a month until we could shop again. Fortunately, Wilbur likes chicken pot pie.

Since I had no cupboards, I had shelves in my kitchen built with block and boards. I stacked food, pans, dishes and other cooking supplies on the block and board shelves. My kitchen sink was from my parents’ old house on Third Street. They had remodeled their kitchen in the early 1960’s and had removed the old cast iron sink. Being of the generation that survived the Great Depression, they didn't throw things away. My parents had stored the old sink in their basement. They allowed us to have it since we had no money to buy a new one.

I lived without kitchen cupboards for almost two years. It wasn’t easy for me, though. The kitchen always looked cluttered and messy. Once we had the missionaries for dinner. One elder didn’t make any secret of the fact that he was appalled by our house and didn’t want to be our guest. The worst part was when I found mouse droppings in the package of spaghetti I had sitting on my board shelf. To be continued.....

High Fashion

Next time I am thoroughly disgusted by a current fashion, I should try to remember that fashion excesses are nothing new. And some of them even come back in style: note the big flower in my Grandma's hair. She could wear that today.

I admit I feel sorry for Arthur Mason dressed like Little Lord Fauntleroy, a popular novel of the time. I am astounded that Arthur's Dad let his Mom dress him that way.

Accident on Third Street

When I was a pre-schooler, I remember asking my Dad about the scars all over his hands and face. Looking back, I realized that when I first asked those scars were recent. When my Dad was older, I don't remember seeing them, so maybe they became less apparent over time. At any rate, the scars were an emotional subject for my Mom. I remember her telling me about a fire in the basement of our house. It was bad enough that she called the fire department.

At that time, people believed that cold water was the worst thing you could put on a burn. They believed putting butter or another oil was the best thing for a burn. I cringe to think what my Dad suffered.

Mom also told me that there was snow when this happened. She was on her way home from St. John's Hospital when the car she was driving slid backwards at a stop sign near Rodney Street because of the slippery streets. To add insult to injury, a police officer ticketed her. When she went before the judge, she explained what happened. The judge said in a disgusted tone, "Oh that was ______." Apparently this officer was notorious for issuing unwarranted citations. The judge dismissed the ticket.

Another interesting fact of this incident is that the Lieutenant Brockway mentioned in the article was the grandfather of one of my good friends in middle school.

My Dad fully recovered. And I never, ever saw him with gasoline or fire in the same place at the same time.

New Years Resolutions

1) Be able to win a Reece Witherspoon look-a-like contest by September.

*Alternatively: Make a concerted effort not to look in the mirror too closely at the wattle I seem to be forming

2) Keep a positive mental attitude.

*Alternatively: Limit whining about going to work full time to every other day.

3) Keep my speech free from all swear words.

*Alternatively: Limit usage of "oh crap" to once a day.

4) Walk four miles every day and do yoga three times a week.

*Alternatively: Go hiking with Eloise every week and leave the chocolate peppermint brownies at home.

5) Keep the house clean enough to show to all our acquaintances at a moment's notice without embarassment.

*Alternatively: When company comes, hide all clutter in the mudroom and blame any mess I miss on Wilbur.

Christmas 1995

As I finished up this year's Christmas letter, I stumbled on to some letters from years past. I thought it might be fun to reminisce with a glimpse into our 1995.

"December 21, 1995

Dear Family and Friends,

After having sat through 8th grade girls basketball games, soccer, and volleyball, a graduation, a fortieth birthday, college classes, a death in the family, and dropping off a daughter at college, we hope we are getting better, not just older. We feel very grateful for the blessings of health and family that we have had this year. We also feel optimistic and hopeful about the year to come.

Our year began with a multitude of volleyball games. Maren played varsity and Julie played J.V. One game we will never forget is the match between Helena and Butte. A terrific upset occurred when Helena beat Butte for the first time in 10 years. Maren's spiking was a major factor in that game and throughout the season. We again realized the joys of living in a town that is not too large when KTVH television featured Maren on the sports wrap up on the 10:00 news several times during the season. Western Montana College asked Maren to play volleyball for them, but Maren had already been accepted at BYU. Not even an offer to play volleyball could change her mind. After attending a semester, Maren is convinced she made the right decision.

As well as volleyball, Julie continued to pursue her interest in music this year. She participated in district music festival by playing the piano and a flute solo. During the summer, Julie had a fabulous time attending music camp at BYU. Because the band was short of oboes, Julie decided to switch from flute to the oboe. In March, she is going to Disney World with the Band. Preston, being a self-sacrificing kind of guy, offered to chaperone.

Although we are not all musicians of Julie's caliber, one of the most fun times we had this year was the family band we put together on Thanksgiving. Lisa and Kristy borrowed the band teacher's complete music score. Ione (Preston's Mom) played the piano, Julie-oboe, Kristy-clarinet, Lisa-saxophone, Becky-flute. Preston said we improved significantly from the Thanksgiving before. Regardless, we had a howling good time - well, at least the dog did....

....Julie's band played for Maren's graduation in June....Becky's Mom was to ill to attend the graduation because she was dying of cancer....

...Our family experienced some outdoor adventures this year. On Memorial Day we hiked to Heart Lake in the Scape Goat Wilderness. Glacier Lilies and Fairy Slippers were popping out everywhere....

Another outdoor experience transpired on Labor Day when we tried riding the ridge with our bikes. We struggled up a steep hill with our bikes only to find that some of the slopes were so steep and full of loose rock that we had to struggle downhill with our bikes too....

.....Becky's Dad became ill in the fall...Since he was so weak, he had to move in with us.....

....Since I haven't mentioned Evan in this letter, I had better tell you that he is in fourth grade this year. A month ago, he wrote an excellent report on the Black Mamba, which is considered by some to be the world's most dangerous snake. He insisted on going to the public library since the school library didn't have much information on Black Mambas. When his teacher informed him that the information he had was enough, he refused to write his report until he had answers to all his questions. Evan said, 'But I really want to know!' I sincerely hope this does not mean he is a budding herpetologist.

Kristy surprised us all this year with her flair for writing, not reports, but stories. She entered her story in the P.T.A. sponsored 'Reflections' competition where she placed first. The story went on to the State competition where it won another award. On her second award, one of the judges wrote, 'Keep writing, Kristy!'

Lisa was also full of surprises in track competition this year. She placed first and second in many 100 and 200 meter events. She did very well in the huge city wide track meet with a second place in the 100 and 200. As parents we are realizing how limited our prophetic abilities are. The kids we thought would be primarily musicians turn out to athletes; the kids we thought were primarily athletes turn out to be musicians; and talents we never suspected crop up when we least expect it. Hopefully, our kids have learned not to take us too seriously and try to do everything that interests them!

.....We hope the coming year is happy and prosperous and wish all of you a Merry Christmas."

I'll never be a rocket scientist. I've never had a lot of prestige or a ton of money. I'll probably never have people come up to me in church and want to talk to me because I am so important or such a great leader. But I sure have a great life with great people in it. I wouldn't trade money, prestige, or importance for my life or my family.

Dog Training

There is never a dull moment with Harvey around. Last Friday, I went upstairs to start dinner and found that the two chicken breasts I had thawing out on the counter had mysteriously disappeared. My expensive rain jacket has a two foot tear down the back. My snowshoe poles are missing half their baskets. Right now I am staring at the remnants of a fabric marking pen I purchased to mark my quilt.

Harvey particularly enjoys teasing. Whenever I am out walking or hiking, he gets immense enjoyment out of swiping my hat or glove and running off with it. I usually say something like, “Give that back, you snot!” Well, today I stopped for a minute and unthinkingly put down my favorite winter hat. (My other hat is missing half of its ornamental braid, thanks Harvey). Harvey grabbed my hat and was off. I quietly said to him, “Please give me my hat back. I really need it, and it’s my favorite hat.” Harvey dropped the hat about two feet to the side of my boot. I thought, “I know this game. I’ll reach for it. Before I can grab it, Harvey will snatch it and run.” So I didn’t touch the hat. In a few seconds, Harvey picked up the hat and dropped it on top of my boot. I thanked him and told him how good he was. Maybe I’m getting better at dog communication.

Kids Struggling in School

I substitute taught four times. Once I've substituted with the Resource kids and once with kids struggling in Math. I'm no expert, but I have an idea for a study that should be done. There isn't a grad student alive who would be brave enough to do this study. Still, I would love to see the statistics of the following study:

How many kids struggling in school come from a stable, two parent family where the mother stayed home, because she wanted to, to rear the kids?

Wisdom from Wilbur

Wilbur says, "It's amazing the number of people who are fruitcakes. They look good on the outside but leave an awful taste."

Wherein I Substitute Teach

About a half hour after my Webelos left on Thursday night, the phone rings. It is “Sub Finder” the School District’s program to line up substitutes. I accept the job which runs from 7:25 a.m. to 3:35 p.m. I am more than a little nervous because the class is mostly for Resource, kids who are having problems. I’ve never even been in a Resource room before.

I arrive a half hour early per substitute teaching orientation instructions and find that the 7:25 am included a half hour early arrival time. No one is in the office and the school handyman hands me the substitute folder. I sit on the step outside the room and read through the folder to see what I am supposed to do for the day. And I almost burst into tears. I am supposed to be taking charge of some severely handicapped children according to the instructions, which don’t even have the right date on them.

A custodian lets me into my classroom and I find another substitute folder. I spend 45 minutes trying to make sense of how these two folders fit together. 15 minutes until the bell rings. I am starting to panic. I ask a teacher walking by for help. She tells me to ask the paraprofessional. The paraprofessional comes in and is stymied too until she realizes that the handyman gave me the substitute folder for the other Mrs. C. I try to restore my pulse to a normal rate.

The resource classes weren’t too bad. I wonder if all the kids are really having difficulty. Some of them just refuse to work. No one is going to tell them what to do. One resource class has a male paraprofessional who rides herd on it. The class is all boys with behavior problems. Some of those boys are large and handsome, one is very obese. What on earth happened to these kids to create these problems, I wonder.

In one class, I am supposed to demonstrate arithmetic on the board. It’s been a while since I have done division by hand. It sure would have been nice to know that this was an Arithmetic resource classroom. I need to brush up.

The 6th and 7th period class is “regular,” but naughty and loud, according to the paraprofessional. I didn’t see so much naughty, as I saw bursting with energy. We spend one class period reading out loud and trying to discuss Art in Space. I wonder how such enthusiastic, creative kids ever stand this. The last period they read The Lightening Thief out loud. Then the day is done. I write a report for the teacher and go home. I am exhausted!

Dog Tales

Harvey's toy box.

Harvey's landscaping.

Harvey's nap time.

My Webelos: Harvey's fans.

I say: Isn't Harvey getting pretty?

Wilbur says: Pretty is as pretty does.

I say: He has such a cute fuzzy face.

Wilbur says: Let's make a calendar and count down the days until we can give him back.

I say: Will Harvey and Max be warm enough in the back yard? Should we move them to the garage?

Wilbur says: What a hassle!

Popcorn

Now that the weather is cooling off and the nights are longer, it’s time for popcorn. I love popcorn. As a child growing up, I can only remember a few times growing up that we had popcorn, unless we were making popcorn balls around Christmas. I thought popcorn balls were magnificent except for the time I tried to make purple ones. They ended up being gray. My Dad couldn’t eat them. He thought gray popcorn balls were sickening. He also objected to the blue ones I made. As a 12 year old I really didn’t care if Dad liked my popcorn balls or not, but Mom wanted me to make them pink or green.

When I married Wilbur, he educated me on the excellence of popcorn as a treat. As a young married couple living in a trailer, we started our popcorn experience off with Grandma Latour’s caramel corn recipe. I knew the seed removal technique. It is imperative to shake your popcorn for a minute or two so that the seeds settle to the bottom of the bowl. Then you place the seedless popcorn to another bowl. By doing this, the unwary caramel corn eater doesn’t break a tooth on a popcorn seed. I learned this from making popcorn balls.

After shaking our bowl of popcorn in our trailer kitchen, we would grease our kitchen table and pour the caramel sauce over the popcorn on the table and stir it around. Our caramel corn is still the best you can find anywhere in my never-to-be-humble opinion.

Next Wilbur showed me that it is entirely appropriate to celebrate any NFL or NBA game by making a bowl of popcorn to eat during the game. The children completely agreed with this philosophy. So as not to have oil on the living room rug, we would spread a blanket on the floor. Then everyone would sit down and enjoy popcorn. While the popcorn was there, five children would be watching the Lakers play the Celtics. But when the popcorn was gone, there would be only Wilbur watching the game.

Sometimes we would make a bowl of popcorn to eat on the Jefferson Hills patio on a fine summer evening. The birds and I liked the easy clean up on the patio. When we put down a blanket in the living room, I would shake it outdoors as part of the clean up. The birds liked that too.

I'm glad I learned about the superiority of popcorn. It's low calorie, cheap, and yummy. I love popcorn and all the good memories surrounding it.

Welcome November

Good Ideas for the Primary Program

1) They had a group of Senior Primary boys sing one of the songs and a group of Senior girls sing another. The Junior Primary had a hard time learning all the songs and this really helped.

2) They had all the Senior Primary girls sing the first verse of Praise to the Man, all the Junior Primary sing the chorus, the Congregation sing the 2nd verse, Junior Primary sing the chorus, the Senior Primary sing the 3rd verse, Junior Primary - chorus, and everybody on the last verse and chorus. The Junior Primary sang the chorus with such enthusiasm! They were so cute.

3) The older children helped the younger ones up to the podium and helped them with their parts when they needed it.

4) The older children sat with the younger children who needed someone and the teachers didn't have to be on the stand at all.

Good Primary Idea Generally

All the teachers of older classes get to go to Relief Society every week. The Presidency says there are enough adults in sharing and singing time, and they know the children will behave.

Interview - Sparkle

Question: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Answer: Hmmmmm. A nurse.
Question: Why do you want to be a nurse?
Answer: Because teachers at school wear dresses a lot, and nurses don't have to. And nurses know lots of things.

Interview - Twinkle

Question: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Answer: I want to be a nurse.
Question: Why do you want to be a nurse?
Answer: Because they get to rock babies!

Then she told me all about when Glimmer was born.

More Harvest

Saturday we harvested about 500 lbs of potatoes. Last spring we charged Orville with the assignment to bring back seed potatoes from the nursery. He brought back strange potatoes that are pink on the inside. With 500 lbs, we hope we like them and that they are good keepers.