THE TURKEY GOBBLER IS THE DEVIL!

{Dow Ostlund--official bank portrait}

When our Grandad--Dow Ostlund--was ill with Parkinson’s Disease--but before he was no longer able to speak, I  sat down with him to try and capture some of his earliest memories.   We only had one night to be able to do this--it was at Mom and Dad's house in Newbury Park on November 29th, 1985.  Grammie and Grandad were visiting there for Thanksgiving.

{series of portraits of Dow--about 1917}

It was such a gift for me to see his beautiful, clear blue eyes begin to sparkle like a little boy’s as he began to remember…and the words—not many were spoken at this time in his life—began to come more quickly and easily as happy memories came to the forefront of his mind--and I quickly and carefully wrote down every precious word. 

{included in this photo are Theodore--far left--and young Dow, sitting in front with long shorts on}

Dow was born in the quiet little Alberta town of Stirling, surrounded by a loving family, lots of cousins and friends, and his grandfather Theodore’s farm--which included the billy goat we see here… 

{Dow and the billy goat cart}

He said that his grandfather “bought an express wagon and a billy goat for (his) Uncle Noel, which they would all take out and enjoy around the farm.  

{Johann Theodore Brandley}

One afternoon, when they had the billy goat hooked up to the express wagon and Grandfather was bending down to talk to a child, the billy goat butted him in the rear end.  I saw it.  He got up and brushed himself off….He swore in German a lot!"

{Dow, front & center, with Brandley aunts and cousins}

I still chuckle whenever I think of this little story, and I remember Grandad's deep, wonderful chuckle as he related it to me.

Then telling another story about his grandfather Theodore, he related:

"They had an outside outhouse, and it was a hundred feet from the main house--it was a three-holer.  Many times I would read the 'Simpson's Catalogue' in the sanctuary of that outhouse.

{Grandfather Theodore in the center--Dow in front in white shirt, and the "big boys" around them!}

"The big boys (my Uncles Bus and Noel), would wait until my grandfather got in there, and then they would tip it over!  He'd come out storming and swearing!  (In German, of course!)"

{Dow with two of his smiling cousins!}

The cousins in front sit with the “turkey gobbler”, as my grandfather called him.  This feathered critter scared little Dow to death when he was a little boy!  He told me:

{Young Dow pushing his cousin Delight on the swing--the turkey gobbler front & center!}

"One summer, they had a turkey gobbler who was mad at me, and I would stand at the door of the outside vestibule (a little hallway coming off of the kitchen)--which had a washstand in it and a screened door in the summertime with steps up to the main house.

"I would stand at the screen door and yell--'The turkey gobbler is a devil!  The turkey gobbler is a devil!'  And when I would go out and not see him, he would run up to me, get me down and peck at my eyes until someone came along and rescued me!  I was 7 or 8 then.

He laughed so hard as he related this to me--his eyes were just lit up so brightly and he was so happy!  And to me, just for a moment, he looked like the little boy he was so fondly remembering--himself.

He smilingly spoke of a time when he was quite little, when he had fallen on some sharp little things and cut his legs up a bit.   He said he sat on the steps going up to the vestibule and cried out--"My 'egs is beedin'!  My 'egs is beedin'!"  Just waiting for some kind soul to come and take care of him.

What a beautiful extended family time they must have had during those beautiful Canadian summers of so long ago!  I know how dearly Grandad remembered them, and how they must have helped to form him into the good and loving family he became.

THE MERCIES OF GOD

As soon as I posted LaPriel's story last week, Dad said he'd like one about his father--Rudger--next.  One of the first things that popped into my head this week was a story Rudger wrote himself in 1980 about an experience that happened to him that taught him much.

But, before I start, I just need to tell you all how much this man means to me.  How much the memory of him means to me.  I can still hear his voice, his laugh, see the twinkle in his eyes, his wonderful singing voice ("I Fall Down and Go Boom!"), and the way it felt when he held me lovingly on his lap when I was little, and hugged me tight and called me "my Jewels" when I was older. I love and miss this wonderful man--Rudger Grant Smith.

Now, in Rudger's own words:

"I feel it important to reduce to writing for my life story the most recent of the mercies of God to me.

"When I made the last trip to visit Clayn and his family, the rains came in abundance and it was impossible to get out on Monday, as I had planned.  I did get Karen to take me to the airport (Camarillo), where I waited several hours hoping for a clearing.  About 2 pm, I took off and tried to get out to the east, under the overcast--but had to turn back.

"Tuesday morning, I looked out and could see starts and blue sky, so I urged Karen to hurry to the 'Patch' with me, and as I was already fueled up, I was soon airborne and was easily able to clear the clouds on the west side of the Coastal Range, which went up to about 10M.  There were cloudbanks further east, but it looked like I would clear them easily, but I kept climbing anyway, and was soon at 12 thousand with no worry.  Then the next bank took me to 13M...

"What I didn't realize, was that these were the tops of cumulus clouds, not thunderheads, and that they were rising right along with me.  As I appraoced the next cloud, I looked at the altimeter and it read 14,400.  I thought--this is getting pretty high, without oxygen, and the ceiling for the plane is not too much more.  But then thought, that the cloud top looked so innocent, and I expected to be through it in a few hundred yards.

"I had never taken any training for instrument flying, and had always avoided instrument conditions.  A very few moments after entering the cloud, the instruments began to go crazy, and without being able to see something to guide me, I didn't know whether I was upside down or pointed right down--and the plane was buffeting like it would come apart.

"I was so terrified; I was doing all the wrong things with the controls.  I remember thinking that my chances of coming safely out of this situation was approximately zero--and that I was in no condition to leave my family.  There was only ONE source for help that could be effective--and that Source responded almost instantly.

"Suddenly, I could see the ground!  Approximately 10,000 feet below--and not only that, but there was a gently curving corridor which allowed me to follow without undue stresses on the shop, and lose about 8,000 feet.  All the while, I was able to see the ground.  (Blessed Earth!)

"As I came to the bottom of the cloud layer, it was raining hard, but there was amply flying room between the desert and the bottom of the cloud cover, so I set a course for Phoenix, and in due time, arrived safely.

(this is as close as I could find to a plane like the one he had--a Cessna-182)

"I saw no more openings in the clouds above me.  It was a solid rainstorm for well over 200 miles.  In my opinion, this was as miraculous as the Parting of the Red Sea.  My life was preserved as surely as if the Lord had taken me in His arms and deposited me safely at home.  I have wondered much how I will be able to justify His great mercy and kindness.

"I feel there are troubled times ahead, and I must be needed to help my family to be faithful so that we can meet the challenges of the near future.

"I have reviewed my patriarchal blessing many times lately, with particular attention to the promises made by my Grandfather Udall to his oldest grandson about what his life would be like.  He told me that after many 'vicissitudes' (a favorite word of his!), that I should come off victorious and that my last years should be my best years.

"As I reflect back over my life, it seems that there were many problems to solve, and many times there were things we had to forego because we could not afford them, but that on the whole it has been a most wonderful life, and that the promise that the last years would be best--that would mean that the last had to be too good to miss.

"As I look back over the past, I am so thankful for LaPriel--and ralize that without her love and loyalty, it might have been many years later that I would become active--and without her support and constant love, I would never have had the privilege of serving as a Bishop and Stake President, and had the opportunity to touch the lives of many people."

I (Julie) was a freshman at BYU in Provo (where Rudger was living at the time) when he wrote this.  I remember he called me and asked if I'd like to come over to the house one Sunday night and have bread and milk with him (his favorite Sunday night meal!).  How could I turn that down?!

As we sat there together, he told me that he had written this memory down, and asked me to read it.  I did, and could barely keep the tears out of my eyes (much like this very moment!), and thanked him so much for being so faithful to the Lord and for capturing this memory--this very direct blessing from Heavenly Father that allowed him to be there with me that night.

There are many other memories.  Many other stories.  Many other chapters in the life of Rudger Grant Smith--and we'll discover them together, one by one.