Orange Crush...or, Girls have Fleas, Don't They?

Stepping back from the hard core ancestral material this week (although looking forward to a lead we received during the week on a book, "Our Lambson Family" referenced by another 3rd cousin, Albert Lee Lambson, another of Frank Lambson's great grandchildren)...I thought I would talk about crushes I had throughout my years in elementary, junior high, and high school.

This discussion has to begin with the acknowledgement that for much of this time I was compelled to follow the masculine mantra that all the feminine unfortunates were afflicted by some social disease...we called it fleas, but others have called it cooties,  or other labels.  I think I speak for the majority my gender that we actually thought, in our heart of hearts, that the opposite sex was awfully nice and kind of cute, but it would have been unmanly to admit that attitude.

I should also mention that from age 4, I always had a "girl next door".  My friend Peevis's sister Terry (the target of our ants melted into crayons prank...see my May 5th entry) was a lovely girl, never really went through any of those awkward or homely phases that most of us go through...and really smart.  But she was my neighbor, which disqualified her from being crush material. 

I do not remember having a crush on any specific female in kindergarten, but I did have sort of a hero in a young lady named Velva Potts.  Yeah, I know.  But I was afflicted with common warts on my  hands (if interested, search google with "common warts on hands").  They were not large, but they were numerous...25 at their peak, about evenly distributed between right and left hands.  They were invariably on the backs of my hands, and seemed to show up a lot at the joints.  Why do I mention these?

Because in kindergarten, you do everything holding hands!  When we walked to an assembly, we held hands!  When we went on a walking field trip, we held hands!  When we sang happy birthday to anyone, we encircled the birthday kid and sang, for crying out loud, holding stinkin' hands! And of course it was always with members of the opposite sex, and they were always freaked out by my warts.  I remember one little girl (not to mention names, but her initials were Linda Blake, my future den mother's daughter), after another rousing chorus of happy birthday, took me by the wrist to the teacher, Mrs. Hymas, and informed her "Teacher, Steven has bugs on his hands!" Well.  Other girls I remember usually just held my hand loosely, or held my wrist, or dropped it altogether.

Velva Potts may have been an ordinary girl with an unusually plain name, but unlike others, she never complained about holding my hand, nor seemed uncomfortable with it.  I don't remember how many times she was called upon to make this sacrifice, but I remember she was assigned to me on one unusually long field trip walk in the early spring. It was to visit a classmate, Blaine Kemp, who had been laid up with rheumatic fever for several weeks.  She held my hand going and coming without flinching.

She must have moved during the summer, because I never saw her after that, but she has always been an early hero of mine  

First grade likewise is a little hazy.  We only met half a day for kindergarten and first grade, so not much chance to get deeply acquainted.  I had lost my warts by then...somehow, magically, over the summer, they disappeared.  I do remember my teacher Mrs. Dowdle, reminded me of the wise old owl in Bambi.  She was great.

So my first memorable crush(es) were in second grade, and they were three:  Valonne Harris, Theresa Arnold, and Judy Bailey.  Foreshadowing a life-long bias, the first two of these had dimples.  All three were smart.  I am not sure if any of them could make chocolate chip cookies.

These were crushes from afar.  Like Charlie Brown and the red-haired girl, I would watch them, and wish that any one of them would give me some sign of affection or even friendship, but too timid to even approach them...and,  of course, I had to maintain theological purity...girls have fleas!

Only Judy Bailey would continue to live in my school area.  However, she was not in my third grade class. 

Third grade. I finally determined I would not live the year in silent yearning...I would get noticed!

The object in this case was one JaNae Anderson.  She had glasses, but they did not disguise a lovely smiling face and beautiful, long, brunette hair.  She was really smart (are we seeing a pattern here?) and, foreshadowing another bias, she played the piano...well...with both hands!  If that were not enough, her father was a land baron...a fruit farmer, growing mostly sweet cherries, but other orchard fruits as well.

I thought I might catch a break when we were both cast by our third-grade teacher, Mrs. Marshall, in our November theatrical gala, "The Little Red Hen"...she was the pianist, and I was the narrator.  Unfortunately there was little interaction...none, actually...and it failed to get me the leverage for which I longed.

Christmas came and went...the year was slipping by and I was getting desperate. On a February morning, with a new layer of snow on the ground, I saw her approaching, all lovely in her winter coat and muffler and boots.  It was now or never.  I acted on my first impulse.  I gathered the proper amount of snow for a good snowball, and, Cupid-like, I launched my projectile at her.  Unlike the Cherub, I did not hit her heart.  I think I may have hit her in some part of the head.  I am pretty sure I did not hit her glasses directly, but the effect was the same...off they came, into the snow.  If I had thought this through a little better, I might have rushed forward apologetically, and gallantly retrieved them.  Instead I stood in shocked horror, wishing I could disappear.  I finally got recognition...as her assailant. 

To her everlasting credit, she did not rat me out to Mrs. Marshall, but I knew our relationship was over before it began.  Oh well, back to girls have fleas.

NEXT WEEK: I hone my attempts at positive recognition.    

     

This continues the story of William Stradling and his family from last week, and covers the trip to St. John's Arizona to help settle. There is some material on the hard life there.  Rose's death  is mentioned, and the taking in of the children (including my grandfather, Paulos Byron) by George and Mary (Stradling) Cook.

  They traveled to Arizona by way of Kanab, entering the Territory of Fredonia, traveling over the Kaibab Mountains to House Rock Valley, on the north side of the Colorado River. Here their horses strayed away from their camp one night and were lost for two or three days. When finally the horses were found and brought to camp, Dan Vincent decided to return to Utah. He had seen all of Arizona that interested him. 

Their next obstacle was the Colorado River. They went into the canyon at Lee's Ferry. The wagons and people were taken across on a raft, but the horses had to swim the deep, swift water to the opposite side. Then came the hard climb out of the canyon and over the rugged Buckskin Mountains. There was one particularly rough, hazardous ridge of almost solid rock called "Lee's Backbone" that everybody dreaded.

After that there were long days of slow travel over the almost water-less Navajo reservation to the settlements on the Little Colorado River, east of the present city of Winslow. The old St. Johns road followed on the north of the Rio Puerco (dirty river) until its' junction with the Little Colorado, about twenty-five miles from St. Johns. They then had to cross the Little Colorado, but compared to the dangerous, difficult crossing of the Colorado at Lee's Ferry, this wasn't much of an obstacle to the hardy travelers. The main hazard was that an animal might step off into an unseen chuck-hole and get down, or a wheel fall in and tip the wagon over, and there was danger of becoming stuck in the shifting quick-sand if for any reason the outfit didn't keep moving. 

It was December 21 when William arrived at St. Johns with his family. They camped temporarily on the Public Square, where the Old Bowery stood and where a school-church was in process of being built. The man working on the roof climbed down and introduced himself as Brother Kemp, the first person William met in St. Johns. Later Bishop Udall visited them and made arrangements for them to buy land. They purchased 100 acres across the river east of town and in a day or two moved into a couple of small adobe houses, with dirt roofs and floors, which had been built by an early Mexican. Thus they celebrated their first Christmas in Arizona.

Life was hard, the land which they had purchased for $10 an acre was very poor soil and most of it was only used as pasture land in later years. Their work animals, after the long trek from Utah, were in poor condition and feed was scarce. The men had to go into the hills with their wagons and hoe dry bunch grass to keep the animals alive. They could not be turned out to graze because of the poisonous "loco" weed which looked a lot like alfalfa and was often fatal to cattle and horses if they ate it. There was plenty of work on the ranch; hauling wood, cutting and hauling posts from the hills, making fences and ditches, and planting crops. For the women there were endless household chores and no conveniences. Sometimes the men got cash paying jobs outside the farm. William and his son Joseph, worked for Bishop Udall, driving mail from St. Johns to Navajo. 

Richard (Dick) Vincent died in 1883. He went after the calves one winter evening and didn't come back. A storm came up. After a two day search, he was found at the Garcia ranch on the Carizzo, 20 miles from home. Chimio Garcia found him wandering among the cedars (said he had been eating cedar berries). Garcia sent word to the folks. He died a couple of days later and is buried in the Stradling plot in St. Johns. 

The Stradling family built a house and stock buildings, made corrals and planted an orchard. They constructed a dam about one-forth mile above the house, which formed a storage reservoir to hold run-off rains. They could also turn water into it from the river when it was their turn to irrigate. In this way they could keep the irrigation water shut up in the reservoir until it was convenient for them to use it. The dam formed a lake of several acres and contained many fish. 

They also built a small pond between the house and the corral for watering their stock. It was filled by a ditch leading from the reservoir so there were fish in it also. Sophia used to feed the fish regularly - in fact they were like pets, surfacing when they saw her coming with the feed. The family had all the fish they needed to eat. 

St. Johns was cattle country and many wild cattle roamed the range. Often they broke through the fences and ate the crops. One day William was trying to drive a bunch of wild cattle out. He had his two dogs helping him herd them. A wild rabbit distracted the dogs and they chased after it, leaving him alone with the cattle. A wild bull then turned back and mauled and gored him, almost killing him before the dogs returned and chased the bull off. He was badly crippled from this unfortunate accident and was not able to do much work from then on.He used a cane for the rest of his life.

William and Sophia lived at their old homestead in St. Johns for about ten more years. It was a long distance for their children to visit and care for them, and in 1895 they moved in with, their son, Joseph and his family. A room was added on to their house especially for them and because William's happiness depended upon having a fireplace, a man was hired to come in and build one in his room. In July of 1902 their daughter, Rose died and her five children were taken to Joseph's home where their grandparents, William and Sophia Stradling, were living. Nettie was the oldest of Rose's children being almost 10 and the baby, Franklin was only one day old.Sophia cared for the little fellow night and day until he died in her arms in December. 

The children's father died in February of 1903. George and Mary Ann Stradling Cook had returned to Provo from St. Johns and having no children of their own, they decided to bring Rose's children to live with them in Utah. At the time of April Conference in 1903, the four surviving children went by train to Provo with Sophia going along to look after them. Although she intended to return to St. Johns, the family in Utah persuaded her to stay in Provo. That summer, William also returned by train to Provo. William and Sophia had left their home in Provo in 1881. They lived in Arizona for about 22 years. During this period they endured many hardships and deprivations of the comforts of life to which they were accustomed. They had been called, and had willingly gone to help settle the St. Johns, Arizona area to conquer the wilderness and establish a colony of the Church. In 1903 they returned in their old age, to their beloved city of Provo to finish their days her upon the earth. William died August 17, 1912 in Provo, Utah at the age of 88 years. 

   

This will be extracts from a short history of Joseph's and Rose's father William, the man Brigham Young asked (along with Apollos Boaz Lambson and others) to help settle St. John's, Arizona when it was still part of the Utah Territory (before either Utah or Arizona were states).

While in his teens, William was "bound out" for three or four years as an apprentice wheelwright, to a Quaker named Fry. Quaker Fry and his wife were people of high moral character and the years William lived in their home were pleasant and profitable and he always held them in high regard. From Quaker Fry he learned to make wagons, carriages, etc. He became a wheelwright and carpenter. He also gained considerable training in farming and horticulture because the Fry family had a farm and orchard. He lived with this family several years.

We do not know how he heard the Gospel nor where he was baptized. On the 8th of December he married Mary Anne Vincent. He was 29 years old and Mary Anne was 22, they were both of Bassaleg, Wales. Their married life was very brief. We also have in his own writing the dates on which a son was born, and the dates his child and his wife died... This is how William recorded it on the inside cover of a small book that belonged to Mary Anne. "Marey Ann Stradling daied August 20th 1854 on Sunday morning at half past one. Elijah Charles Stradling was born August 11th 1854 on Friday at 2 o'clock after noon. Daied August 16th 1854 at three o'clock morning." 

It seems probable that he crossed the plains to Utah in the Isaac Allred company which arrived in Salt Lake City in November 1855. According to an entry in a book of immigrating Saints for the season, "38 wagons, 62 souls arrived in Great Salt Lake City; Isaac Allred, captain. Some wagons, which had to stop over at Green River, arrived on the 13th." He gave the money he had saved to the Brethren to assist the poorer emigrants to outfit themselves for crossing the plains and was told he would be given employment when they reached the Valley. He drove a two yoke ox team on the journey. The job he was offered at Salt Lake City, was driving an ox team and hauling timber out of the mountains. He didn't think that was much of a job for a first class mechanic and refused it, saying he needed a little change of occupation any way. 

William was an industrious man and always had plenty of work to do, "for himself and kindred too, ere the sun went down." He helped build a sawmill at Spanish Fork. He and a blacksmith, Nels Nelsen, built the first harrow used in the valley and he and Thomas Cook brought the first threshing machine into Provo. Besides working at his trade of wheelwright he engaged in farming and fruit raising. He acquired 14 acres of land in Provo Second Ward, in the southwest part of town. The original old Provo Fort was on part of his land. He had a 40-acre farm in the Fort field, two 10-acre tracts and a 40-acre pasture down by the Utah Lake. On October 1 1856, William married Sophia only daughter of James and Sophia Bush. She was seventeen years old, William was 32. 

In the early days at Provo, William and Sophia had to travel a long way to get wood for fuel and posts to fence their land. In mid winter Utah Lake would freeze so that teams and wagons could cross over it on the ice, and they frequently made trips to the west side for wood and posts. It was a risky business, but the distance around the lake was so great that they took chances of losing their outfits and maybe their lives, and traveled over the ice. Sometimes the ice would crack with a loud report, and the oxen sensing danger would run for the shore, the ice bending under the weight of the outfit and water coming through the cracks to a depth of several inches. 



William and Sophia was very comfortably situated in Provo and expected to stay there permanently. They owned their own home, orchards, farms, and pasture land. They were happy in their church and community life. Provo was a friendly community, growing and progressive. Prior to 1881 the First Presidency of the Church began to call upon families in the settlements of Utah to go out and help colonize other places. William was asked to go to St. Johns, Arizona, a new settlement on the Little Colorado River in northeastern Arizona. So he had to pull up the stakes they had so patiently and laboriously driven in the soil of Utah, abandon property, hopes, and cherished plans and pioneer in a new, wild county where, to say the least, it would be a long hard fight against the elements and adverse conditions to make a living and establish homes. 

In obedience to "those in Authority" the call was accepted at the sacrifice of personal feelings or desires. Property was disposed of at much less than real value, teams made ready and wagons loaded with a few household goods, tools, farm implements, food, and seed grain and in November of 1881 the little caravan was on its way South. There were four wagons at the start of the trip Two outfits belonged to William, one to George E. Cook and the fourth to Dan Vincent. (It is possible Dan Vincent was a brother of William's first wife.) William also had a number of loose horse. William and his son, John, drove the two teams while sons Joseph and Ephraim drove the loose animals. The traveling party included: William Stradling, 57, his wife, Sophia, 42, married daughter, Mary Ann and her husband, George E. Cook and their two small children, the Stradling children - John, 17, Joseph, 15, Sarah, 13, Rose, 9, Ephraim, 7, Susan, 4, and Owen, 2. There Iwas also a man about the same age as Mary Ann whose name was Richard (Dick) Vincent. People called him "silly" and he was probably ********. He was mistreated by his relatives and William befriended him, giving him a home as long as he lived. It is possible Dick was a cousin of William's first wife. 

NEXT WEEK: THE TRIP TO ST. JOHN'S