Castle Valley Years

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Castle Valle y years

An Era of Sweeping Changes

Few of us could anticipate the things that were about to take place as Salt Lake City’s popu-lation expanded and new concepts in the re-tail industry began to take place. The smaller community specialty stores, which had been successful for many years, were about to be replaced by the establishment of malls which would draw the customers to these central points. Each of the main retailers in the Salt Lake area foresaw the need to keep up by opening branches in the new malls. There was a program introduced by financial institutions that seemed the only answer, since most of us did not have the finances to ‘pay as we go.’ It was called leasing—that is, you could have a financial institution pay for the fixturing of a store, and then they would lease you the fixtures. In time, by monthly payments, you would pay off the debt and own the fixtures. It was another angle of a way to borrow money. As we thought about it, we decided to do for LaRie’s what the others were doing. We investigated the different malls and began to make plans to open stores in the particular locations that seemed to be best.

It all seemed well and good until one day our accountant said, having brought the books up to date for some period of time, “You’re in big trouble. You’re spending much more for your over-head in the different stores, and in making the payments that you’re obligated to make, than

you’ve got money coming in from sales.” What was happening to us (which we didn’t realize until a little later) was happening to most of the other main retail establishments in the valley. They were also over ex-tended and going bankrupt.

When it was over, we had brought to mind the fact that during this expansion time, we heard from the brethren rather frequently to get out of debt and to keep out of debt. It seemed like that was for everyone else. In the retailing business, we felt we had to be competitive, so we made the mistake of not listening to that advice. Besides LaRie’s, I could name a dozen different retail establishments that found themselves, one after the other, in bankruptcy and closing down, including a major department store in Salt Lake—Auerbach’s. We could not foresee the establishment of Wal-Mart and similar businesses that had such drawing power. This also affected the outcome. We tried everything we could to find additional financ-

Castle Valle y years2

ing for LaRie’s. There were people we knew who could have put money in, and we believed this would see us through this time of crisis. But we learned something from them: If they have funds invested that’s mak-ing money, they don’t want to pull it out and put it into something that’s losing money. In other words, “Don’t send good money after bad.” After considerable effort to find outside financing, which we were unable to secure, it became apparent that we were going to have to take out bank-ruptcy as a company.

One heart-warming thing was that Mother had been so well liked by her employees for many years that they all said they would stay with the company and see us through until we closed. We had that faithful support of employees in all of the stores until the day came when the doors closed.

I had never thought I’d see the day, but I surely gained a lot more under-standing of other people who had gone through similar trials. Now where do you work? What do you do to make money to pay your bills? We

began to think about these things and see what we could come up with. We learned about a spe-cial chapter in bankruptcy which permitted a company, if they had adequate resources available in fixtures and stocks and so on, to gather together all of their assets in the one most profitable lo-cation and start over almost free of debt. This would give them a chance to make a revival of their business. I became very interested in that prospect. Mother was weary and didn’t want to be a part of it, but said she would surely support me. I had all of the figures available and went over them with a very capable accountant with expertise in this area. He said that I had as good a chance as anyone he’d ever seen to make it work. The plan was to pull all of the resources back together to the Cottonwood Mall store that had been very successful for some time. I made arrangements to meet with the person who was helping us with our problems and do the necessary paperwork to get started toward this goal.

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I remember it was late one night when all of the last figures had been put together. I had things firmly in my mind, and I was ready to meet my advisor the next morning. As I was heading for bed, it came to me that this was something I really ought to pray about. I went down to our base-ment where I was all alone, and I knelt down and prayed very earnestly to know if this was the right thing for me to be doing. It seemed like the counsel that is given in Doctrine & Covenants 9:7-9 jumped out and filled my mind with thoughts. This passage tells us that when we have a problem and need an answer, first we must study it out in our mind. I had surely done that. Then we must ask if it be right, and I was doing that now in my prayer. And then it says, “And if it is right, I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you, therefore you shall feel that it is right. But if it is not right, you shall have no such feelings but shall have a stupor of thought that will cause you to forget the thing which is wrong.” That’s what I was experiencing in trying to tell Father in Heaven why this thing I wanted to do so terribly much was right. I seemed unable to explain the reasons. I closed my prayer, and I thought about it said to myself, “This must be an an-swer…but I’ve got so much at stake, I’ve got to be sure.” I prayed again and found the same thing happening. I had all of the reasons why I should go ahead with my plan, but I had no confirma-tion of assurance. I closed my prayer. At least once more I went back, but this time, I said, “Father in Heaven, although this is something I want desperately, thy will be done. If it is not thy will—it is so important to me—I need a very clear indication, so I don’t make a mistake as I make this decision.” Then I said, “Since I have been receiving no confirmation, I’ve decided not to do it.” A wonderful feeling swept over me that can hardly be described. I had been told most certainly that this wasn’t something that I should do. I went to bed, and the next morn-ing, I called the man that was going to meet me to proceed with the program. I told him I had decided I was not going to do it.

Of course, that left us with a lot of ques-tions as to what were we to do now. Somehow things come along at the right time to see us through some of our diffi-cult trials. My Grandma Sorenson, who had lived in retirement with certain fam-ily members in the past, needed another place to stay. We invited her to come to our house and live with us. We had a very nice, newly-remodeled room that had been completed a couple years


earlier. It had a lovely view looking out the front window, a fireplace, and a private bath. It was like her own private suite as you entered from the front door. She decided she would like to come and stay with us, and she did so for a year. Family and friends could come and visit her, and she was happy staying with us. She wanted to pay us a certain amount each month for maintaining her—money that would otherwise have gone to a rest home. That saw us through this difficult period.

During the time that Grandma was with us, we thought we’d try a little antique store and gift shop where we could sell handmade gifts and restored antiques. We found a nice little house in a con-venient location—an older home that had some charm. We began to fix it up, paint, and do every-thing we could to make it attractive.

We knew we would have to get a permit to operate the business, and so when we were to that point and ready to begin, we went to talk to the city people who would be giving us approval. As we sat in the city council meeting, we were very anxious as we heard them order some-one to take down a garage because they hadn’t obtained a building permit and that sort of thing. As our turn arrived, we were informed that there were building restrictions for opening a business at our lo-cation. They told us we would have to provide a handicap ramp to the building entrance and modify all the doorways to allow wheelchair access. We were also told that the basement stairs didn’t meet the code, so we would have to change them. There were other things men-tioned including parking requirements. We explained to the council members that we were a little “mom and pop” operation, and that we were just trying to get started. We had no way of financing all of these changes. We were afraid they would do as they had been doing, and

tell us we wouldn’t be able to open our business. Then one of the council members stood up, and he said that if a little mom and pop operation couldn’t be given a chance to succeed, he wondered what we have come to. He urged that we be given a variance, so that we could go ahead and oper-ate our business without demanding such extreme requirements. We were very happy to be able to walk out of the meeting with permission to begin our antique and gift shop business.

The business was small, and it wasn’t really bringing in all the money we needed, but it was a start. We had family members contributing handicrafts that sold well. There were some pretty prom-inent people that heard about our little shop and came to buy things. This wasn’t the typical an-tique shop; every antique we put out for sale had been repaired and restored. I had set up a work-shop in the basement in order to be able to do that.

After a while something new came on the horizon. For a long time, Marjorie had wanted to ex-perience living in the country. From time to time, we’d look at property that was available for sale and find it mostly disappointing. There were wonderful advertisements that would describe a beautiful pond, shade trees, etc. When we would get out to look at the place, there would be just a

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mud puddle for the “lake,” and so on...it wasn’t that great. Nothing seemed to be the right thing.

We had stopped looking at property during the time of the bankruptcy. However, one day Margie saw a full-page ad in the newspaper describing a place called Castle Valley. It was outside of Moab and located below something called Castle Rock. It sounded so inviting that Margie wanted to go and take a look at it. She took a couple of the children (Kim and Robyn) with her and drove to Moab. I expected it would be a similar experience to the others, but when she came back, she was just glowing. She said, “You’ve got to come and see Castle Valley!” We arranged a time when we could get away for a couple days, so I could go down and take a look with her.

Most of the family accompanied us on the trip to see Castle Valley. It was just about evening as we drove up the road along the Colorado River from Moab. As we approached the turn-off to Cas-tle Valley, a phenomenon occured that happens once in while. All of a sudden, as the sun broke through the clouds—everything has to be just right—a vivid beam of glowing light struck one of the big buttes ahead of us and it wasencompassed with light. Margie felt that was a good sign.

Castle Valley was as nice a place, and as country a place, as we could have asked for. We talked about it, and some of our relatives that knew what we were thinking about, weren’t very keen on the idea. I could foresee all kinds of prob-lems, but hardly could I imagine what it would really be like—to move from our present home out into the country with nothing but undeveloped fields. We made an appointment to see the realtor who was selling the property, and drove to Castleton where he was living. We visited with him and were all ready to sign the papers and make the transaction. I was very hesitant inside, worrying about the consequences. But I remembered how often Margie had expressed her desire to live in the country, and now more than ever, this was something


she wanted to do. I felt that if we didn’t proceed, it would be a great disappointment to her. I thought to myself, “Let’s put caution to the wind in favor of doing something that would mean so much to Margie.” So in a relatively few moments of delib-eration, I made the decision to sign the contract.

Being one of the first among many who eventually came to the valley, we had our pick of the lots. We chose a very green and beautiful spot. We purchased two five-acre

lots that were side by side. There were huge cottonwood trees at the back of the property and also a greenbelt below. This made us feel like we were living on the edge of a forest. We had water rights with our property which most of the other valley lots didn’t have.

Time doesn’t permit the tell-ing of all the things that can be imagined that had to be done to make the move from our Salt Lake home, get it listed for sale, and move the family.

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Castle Valley

On June 4, 1976, when I was almost 48 years of age, we landed in an open 10-acre field to begin our truly pioneering experience in our own present day. In spite of the fact that we were, at least for a number of years, almost on the verge of poverty and had to work very hard amidst all of the adversities we ran into, we were very happy. It was a creative opportunity and one that did remarkable things for the spiritual welfare of our family. At later times, when I would talk about what a great thing it had been, some people would say to me, “I guess I should sell my house and move down there.” I would say to them, “Well, what you need to do is pray and ask Father in Heaven what’s right for you. This was right for us.” There were a number of families moving to Castle Valley at that time. The property was relatively inexpensive. The families that came had quite a few children. For some of them it worked out pretty well, and some not so good, depend-ing on all types of circumstances. But for us, it was the best thing that had happened in our lives.

We bought a used pickup truck to help us in the move and also borrowed a big enclosed van. On the way to Castle Valley our troubles began. The truck threw a rod in the motor near Green River, Utah. We managed to eventually get us to the farm and get the truck towed there. We unloaded our belongings into a rented storage unit in downtown Moab.

Castle Valley viewed from the La Sal mountainss.


MARJORIE’S DAILY JOURNAL June 4th, Friday: Robyn, Jeff, Kim and I arrived about 7:00 PM. The evening was beautiful. We made camp and ate homemade bread, cheese and cookies—hot chocolate mix with water. We slept in the back of the truck. The night was warm and starry. It cooled off by morning—quite cool. Our field had been plowed and disced.

June 5th - Saturday: All day we watched for the big truck. It was very hot and the bugs were bad (deer flies and gnats). We only had a little water. It was too hot to stay in the high fields. We tried waiting and

resting under the trees, but the bugs were so bad. We ate the same food and drank warm water. We worked all morning removing rocks from our garden. Then we tried to

irrigate. We finally gave up trying to accomplish something and just tried to survive the bugs. We covered our faces and selves to escape them. We tried to call home to see when they had left, but no one was home at Hotz’s. Finally we called from a ranch up the main road owned by Cotton McGenty. (Jeff’s cat disappeared this morning and hasn’t been seen since). We talked to Brent. He said they left about 10:30 a.m. Finally we saw the big truck coming just before dark. We were very glad to say the least.

Our large cheese was badly melted, and we had eaten nearly all the bread and cookies. When we went over to fill our small jugs (the big igloo cooler was locked in the front of the truck), our neighbors, “The Ehlers,” loaned us two large 6-gallon jugs. The water from their well was good but warm.

June 6th - Sunday: We started moving our camp down below in the trees. The Elhers came over ready for Church, but we couldn’t go. We had left the pig and everything in the truck. We had taken the goats out and the chickens in their small coop. The goats were jumpy—Marmee especially. She would charge and broke her chain several times. Our 7th Day Adventist neighbor said he would come over after church and level our field. The day wasn’t as hot as the day before; there were clouds at times. The Ehlers brought us ice and bug lotion, and we finally had cold water. Randy worked on the truck. Russell arrived later that day. Robyn put up tents and we tried to get organized in our camp. We had a visit from a member of the Elders Quorum presidency and his family. The ward here (Moab) is very inactive. Fireflies in low areas—fantastic!

June 7th - Monday: Randy and Russ worked on the truck all day and got the new engine

The big truck arrives loaded with two goats, a sow, a crate of chickens, and Mat’s dog,

Max, among other things.

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in. I cut off more fence and tried to open up the area we needed to get thru that was fenced. Gregg helped tear out logs and large sagebrush to open up our road to the bottom area. We also put the concrete pipe in place and hauled dirt in the big truck. Randy left before dark taking back the truck, old engine and his tiller, which he sadly never had time to use.

June 8th - Tuesday: Richard had been milking the goat with Gregg holding it, since we had no stanchion. Robyn started learning today. Not much milk this morning because the goat kicked it over, but tonight she did well. I made bread and baked it at Ehlers and made them some dough. We irrigated the vegetable garden to get it moist for planting. Robyn found Jeff ’s cat and thought it was hurt, but probably it’s sick.

Today, Robyn, Mat, Jeff, and Kim and I raked the road down to the camp into a heap of leaves and twigs to the center. We got Gregg to trim a branch the kids call their “horse.” It bounced as he was cutting, so I held it. Somehow the chainsaw hit my left hand (I had gloves on). It cut my little finger and right through the fingernail on my ring finger. I felt very lucky I didn’t lose some fingers. They seem to be healing well. Michael Davis came today and brought our fridge, Robyn’s trunk of tole painting supplies, two bikes, and a double bed mattress from the Longakkers.

June 9th - Wednesday: We planted three rows in the garden today. We have to fork the rows and remove large roots and rocks. Richard irrigated and worked on the chicken coop. Russell got the truck started after many problems. He and Richard went to Moab once for parts. Russ went again. The evenings are beautiful and cool, as are the mornings, but the days are very hot. We had to kill Jeff ’s cat today because it was too sick.

June 10th - Thursday: It has been extremely windy and dusty today. We planted 4 more

“Mud monsters” (Gregg and Mathew)playing in the Colorado River.

Castle Rock viewed from the orchard.


rows in the garden. It is very difficult because it wasn’t plowed enough. Russell and Gregg went on the Colorado River for a run today. Richard and I tried to finish the chicken coop. We had hot dogs with fried bread in the dutch oven. It burned on the bottom and sides. Gregg hurt his hand bad carrying the truck top down below to make the kitchen area. Richard and Russ drove the truck to the Adventists to return a tool they borrowed. I’m still not sure whether it’s ready to run or not.

June 11th - Friday: It was amazingly cold today; a cold, clear wind not like yesterday’s dirty one. We got a lot planted in the garden. I asked the Adventists to plow and disc again. It is so hard to dig as the sod is still intact in many places. They came later in the day, but just with the disc which he used over and over. He finally quit when it broke. Said he would be back Sunday morning to finish. Richard marked off our new driveway, and we moved the pig to its larger and better home. Russell and Gregg worked fencing it in. Seems like we made a lot of progress

today. We were awakened twice in the night. Once by dogs barking and Marmee bleating. Once later when Luxton’s old house burned to the ground.

June 12th - Saturday: Robyn and I planted some hilled melons, cukes and squash. Then we went to Moab. We washed the clothes (dropped the boys off first at the swimming pool—35 cents each) and Robyn, Kim, and I had paid showers ($1.00 each), then we went grocery shopping. We bought rootbeer floats

to enjoy on the way home. Richard had visitors while we were gone. The Cal Jenkins from our ward in S.L., and a couple and their children from the 7th Day Adventists. It was wonderful to go to bed clean. We usually sleep well here. We had a good ground beef stew with onions, potatoes, and carrots in it. The irrigation ditch flooded over the road and watered our garden, but no damage done, thank heavens! Dad milked the Ehler’s goat.

June 13th - Sunday : We all slept in and Dad did all the chores this morning. Then he went to call Leslie to see how things are at home. The chickens finally got in their new home and after a few

Jeff, Mom, and Gregg putting in fences.(Below) Dad mowing.

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fights they settled down. Cool and windy today. We (Robyn, Jeff, Kim, Mat and me) went for a drive after lunch to see the burned house and then up to the forest. We went higher and higher ‘till we finally ran out of hard-surfaced road. It was a jeep road, rutted and rocky, but we carefully made our way. We saw beautiful trees—pines, quaking aspen, wild flowers, water, bridge, deep crevices and rocks. Prettiest canyon anywhere. Wanted to go further but was afraid for the car. We didn’t go to church, but we did have a day of rest compared to other days. I tried to milk the goat today, but conditions were so poor, and I had too much trouble. So did Robyn—the goat kicked over the milk twice. Richard had to finish. Still got a quart, however. The boys went hunting, for rabbits I guess. It’s very windy this evening and cloudy. Dad is making nests for the chicken coop. Gregg and Russ went hunting and had roast rabbit. It was windy and rained a little in the night—very cold.

June 14th - Monday: Finally got milking the goat. I tied its leg and made it wait for me to learn. The boys (Russ, Gregg, and Mat) went rafting again on the Colorado.

June 16th - Wednesday: Russell and Gregg went hunting. Gregg got a rabbit.

June 17th - Thursday: Used Ehlers’ tiller and shredder and got a lot more garden planted. Made two more compost holders.

June 18th - Friday: Richard and I went to Paradox and got wood for the kitchen.

June 19th - Saturday: Shower time! Started building kitchen. Richard went down for a shower. Gregg and Russ went to Oowah Lake for the day. They went hunting later and got a rabbit.

June 20th - Sunday: Russell left today. We went to church for first time.

June 21st - Monday: Worked on kitchen. Rained some at night.

June 22nd - Tuesday: Bad thunderstorm, lightening, etc. Flash flood really damaged the stream area. Everybody ok though. We went to Cortez. Our electricity hooked up but not working.

June 23rd - Wednesday: Electricity finally today! Bad thunderstorm. Richard started building our (girls’) tent.

June 24th - Thursday: Slept in our tent on floor for the first time.

Robyn with our goat, Marmee.


June 25th - Friday: Too hot and mosquitos bad! Did shopping in Moab. Boys went to Cortez again. Home late.

June 26th - Saturday: Showers, swim, etc. and shopped for party.

June 27th - Sunday: Robyn, Kim, Jeff and I went to Church. Dad worked on shelter for the animals. Gregg killed a rattlesnake.

June 28th - Monday: Our first party—a weiner roast with the Ehlers and Headens. Served baked beans, potato salad, punch, and chips. The goats and pig got their sun

shelter, and we got our steps.

(End of journal entries)

The house in Salt Lake didn’t sell as quickly as we hoped it would, and we were very short of money. Consequently, for the first summer, we had to improvise in every possible way to be in some kind of a finished house or shelter before winter came. The remainder of the summer, we were on what you could call a perpetual camping trip. Down in the trees, we established facilities for sleeping, cooking, and washing. We soon had electric power available and could have a stove. We took the camper top from the truck and put it on a framework we constructed to make a little covered kitchen. Here is where we put the stove and also a refrigerator. We got a “john” estab-

Kim and Jeff in the vegetable garden.

Kimberly in the “Bunkhouse.”

Jeff and Kim having fun in the treehouse.

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lished in a little building we built. Then we put the tent on a wooden platform where we could sleep at night in very crowded beds. Soon we replaced the tent with an actual wood framework and roof. To this day, we refer to this little structure as the “Bunkhouse.” It was something like 10 by 12 feet in size. As fall wore on, it began to get cold at night. In the evenings, we would all huddle down in our sleeping bags on our bunk beds to keep warm while we read together. We in-stalled a little pot-bellied stove to try and help warm the building, but it had so many cracks that it hardly helped. We were happy, very happy, doing the things that we were doing together.

Farm Animals

One of the delights of having a homestead are the many animals that can be raised. From the very beginning, we began to acquire the different animals that we wanted. We built pens, put up fences, and all that was necessary for the raising and upkeep of animals.

One of the animals we brought to the farm with us was a sow. When we went and bought this sow, we saw pigs as big as cows. I had no idea they could get so enormous. We always kept the an-imal pens very clean and sprinkled with straw. One day, we saw the sow asleep on the straw and next to it, cuddled up, was Mathew having his own nap next to that big, friendly sow.

We had an experience later on where our sow was going to be having piglets. We had read care-fully in the book about the process, as we always did, learning everything as we went. Late one night, one little piglet was born and then nothing happened—no more piglets came. Margie, with her special talent of pursuing something that didn’t seem right, said that from reading the book, we learned that pigs never have just one piglet. If there was a dead piglet, it could stop the rest from coming and lead to the death of the sow and remaining babies. She said we had to do what

The first litter of piglets.

Kimberly with our Jersey cow, Janie.

Jason with the chickens.


the book said and reach inside, find the little dead pig, and pull it out. So referring to the instructions in the book, I reached my arm in up to my elbow, and there was a little mass there. I pulled it out and, sure enough, it was a dead baby pig. Immediate-ly after it was removed, all of the rest began to be born, healthy and in a normal fashion. About an-other nine or ten piglets were born.

We learned about the beneficial qualities of goat milk and so we had goats. We had our own bil-lie goat to make breeding easier and had several milking goats at a time. We would earn extra money selling the surplus cow and goat milk at the Moab co-op (today you’d think of it as a nat-ural foods store). Mothers who had babies that

weren’t doing well on cows milk, or were even al-lergic to it, were so delighted that they could buy

fresh goats milk. Eventually we had to label it “pet food,” but it was the most wonderful thing for those who needed it for their babies. Little baby goats have the most beautiful look of any creature I know. As they got older and horns would form, I again learned from the book how to make an iron to dehorn the baby goats.

Another of the first animals was our horse, Daisy. A Seventh Day Adventist family that was mov-ing wanted a good home for their trained horse. We bought her very inexpensively, and we got a saddle and bridle for her. Different ones in the family spent many enjoyable hours trying to learn how to ride her. She became almost a part of our family, as we proceeded to develop our place.

Eventually, we decided that we’d like to have a colt, and there was a beautiful black stallion being raised up the valley. We made arrangements to take Daisy up there, and before long, we had a baby colt. It looked very much like its mother as it grew, with the same rich brown tones. We learned early on, that if we made pets of the hors-es when they were young, they were very con-trollable and pleasant when they grew older. Two very notable exceptions are bulls and billie goats.

Later on, the first colt grew older and, in fact, bred with it’s mother to produce a colt very

Baby goats.

Kimberly riding a neighbor’s horse.

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much like itself. It was hard for a stranger to distinguish which one was which. We learned from a couple bad experiences with the first colt. Some people up the valley had been learning to train horses and wanted to come and help us train our colt. This involved getting the colt down on the ground, which it didn’t like at all. Later on, with the same colt, we had a professional hoof trim-mer come and trim the horse’s hooves. When the horse wasn’t cooperative, he had a way of tying ropes so that the horse would go down on the ground, and he could manage it better. That was also a bad experience for the horse. After that, I could never get within arm’s length of that horse. He was always afraid he was going to get caught and somebody would do something to him. Oth-ers could get around him, but not a man. He was very wary from those experiences, and I wished

they hadn’t happened. Eventually Daisy died, but we had her two offspring always in our field. They were as much a part of the farm as the family dog, whether we ever rode them or not. When they ran they would arch their tails and have the most beautiful look to them. Perhaps that came from the father’s side. We had Jersey cow that we got from a dairy farm in the Grand Junction area. We read and watched the ads, and one day Margie and I took the pick-up truck and drove to a dairy farm. We found a gentle cow that they were willing to sell us. Later in the day, we drove home in the truck with the new cow for us to begin milking. Almost everything we did on the farm, we studied ahead of time from books. The first time we milked the cow, we sat down with the book and tried it, and it worked!

I had to milk very early in the morning each day, before I started my bus run. I would sit out in

Willow and Sundance standing in the field.


the field on the pleasant days, and sometimes the clouds would fill the sky in such a way that for about 15 minutes, I’d see the most beautiful sky filled with colors of every hue as the sun began to rise. It was an exciting experience that only hap-pened a few times, but I was always milking at the right time to see it.

From time to time, we’d get the cow bred and soon we’d have baby calves. One of the calves grew to be a pretty good sized bull before we butchered it. Once I found myself running in the field where it was located as it chased after me. I bolted over the fence just in time. You can’t count

on friendliness from a bull.

We had our own laying hens and even a rooster or two. We had fresh eggs all the time from our own chicken coop. One year we even raised our own turkeys. We tried some little banty hens and instead of penning them up, we let them wan-der free. They ate bugs and things that were obnoxious around the place. They were very able to sustain them-selves. In the middle of the winter, with snow covering the ground, one of those little banty hens came out with a whole brood of little baby chicks.

Of special importance was our family dog. Dogs don’t live especially long, and as one would age and pass away, we’d find someone who had a new puppy and so raise another family dog. In particular, I wanted to mention our dog, Taffy. Although she was very small, she was a delight-ful pet. Something must of happened sometime where she got kicked by a meter reader or some-one, because she would bark her head off at any adult stranger that came around the place—es-pecially men; but children, never. She would let

Jeff milking the cow.

Dad leading Janie. (Middle)

Jeff and Kim with the cow and goats.(Bottom)

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children maul her all the time and never nip at them. Sometimes she’d go and hide if they were too much of a nuisance to her, but she’d never bite a child or bark at them. The day my mother came to stay with us and got out of the car, Taffy seemed to sense some-thing different. Taffy rushed up to her and wagged her tail. I think it was the first dog Mother ever came to like (she had some bad experiences with dogs as a little girl). Taffy followed me everywhere I went. Although the weeds might be three or four feet high, Taffy jumped through them to keep up with me. Whatever I was doing, she’d lay there and watch me until I moved on to some other project. Later on, she was a source of support as bears and mountain lions began to invade the valley. In the early morning, or in the evening, when I’d go out to irrigate, I was sometimes nervous. But I knew Taffy was watching and would sound an alarm if something threatening came along.

All of the family, Margie and the children, happily participated in our farm projects. Sometimes each one had a special assignment to their lik-ing. In grade school and for a long time, Kim took care of the milk goats. She would milk them, and then we bottled it and sold the extra goat milk at the co-op. She was able to earn a little money from the sale of the milk. All was well with raising the animals, until it came time to butcher some of them. No one wanted the experience of killing their pet, and especially not eating it at the dinner table. So certain of the animals, we had to designate as having that kind of outcome and not make pets of them, or it was impossible to put them to use. We did butcher the animals when the time came, again learning from the book what to do and how to take care of everything.

One of the baby calves.

Grandpa teaching the

grand kids how to milk.

(Middle)

Kim leading our goat. (Bottom)


As time went along, we subscribed to various publications and ordered books on organic gar-dening and nutrition. We continued to enlighten ourselves more and more. Actually opinions were changing, and we found that the amount of meat people were eating was not a necessity, but rather a luxury and often harmful to their health. We also learned more about the point-of-view of vegetarians and something began to dawn on me… As we’d raise a pig for butchering and get quite a bit of nice meat from it, it would take bags and bags of whole grain feed. If times got hard, the amount of grain that we put into one pig would have fed our whole family for a year. I realized that from a world view, if America would just cut down on meat consumption to what was best for us, instead of our appetites, the leftover grain that could be saved would produce enough to curtail a famine in one of the lands of Africa where many were dying of starvation.

An important factor in our thinking was when I went to a Saturday priesthood meeting in con-nection with General Conference. President Spencer W. Kimball gave a special talk that some of us refer to as the ‘Little Birds’ talk. He told the brethren that we should never go out hunting and shooting for the thrill of having killed something. We need to begin to think about what it’s going to be like in the millennium, when no animals will be killed or butchered, but everything lives together in harmony and peace. No animals will threaten others of the animal kingdom, and we won’t threaten them. I don’t know how the talk went over; I don’t think it made a big hit with hunters, but it certainly gave me something to think about. At any rate, the last time I butchered an animal it was a pig. It hung there by its hind leg looking at me and unable to die. I never butch-ered another animal again.

The first few years we tried to raise our own hay, we in-stalled an elaborate sprinkler system in the fields that required a lot of energy to change it and set the water. When the time came to harvest the hay, we had to have somebody cut it for us. Then we would rake it and put it in a stack. We did all of this to save money. But I found that by the end of the summer, it had cost so much for electricity to pump the water, I could actually buy the hay for less. So we turned our fields into pasture, where the horses and cows could graze contentedly from early spring until late in the fall. Then we could buy just enough good alfalfa hay to see us through the winter.

Jeff picking tomatoes.

Jeff and Kim, rodeo riders.

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Neighbors

A new family moved into Castle Valley, soon after we did, by the name of Jerry and JoAnna Ehlers. They became our close friends all during the time we lived in Castle Valley. Jerry learned that we didn’t have money yet from the sale of our house, and so we couldn’t do any building. He had bought a great number of logs from a saw mill. The mill used actual dead and downed trees to shape the logs with grooves so they fit together fairly tight. Jerry told us that he would give us enough logs to build our house, as he had enough for his house and another one. Then when we got our money, we could pay him for the logs. So he furnished our logs and we began the building project. We made our house plan. I say ‘house plan,’ but the first plan was actually for an outbuilding that had an extra kitchen, a bathroom, and a large area in the middle where a car could be pulled in to be worked on. This building eventually became our home. We were never able to build more, but we added onto it and improved it over time.

We needed a cement mixer for the building proj-ect. An older, retired gentleman who lived up the valley and was in a wheelchair, would sometimes drive down in his car to visit with us. He had a cement mixer, and he told us we could borrow it for the summer while we were pouring cement. He lived in Castleton and at times we’d go up there to visit him. So we borrowed the cement mixer. Margie and I would go out during the day and shovel sand and gravel out of washes around Castle Valley and up around Castleton. We’d bring the material home in the pick-up truck and wash and screen it. Then we could portion out the right amount of sand, gravel, and cement for the cement mixer.

When we got to the valley, one of the first people we found living there was a man by the name of Ernie Faust. He lived up the valley, and we heard he had tomatoes to sell, so we went to buy some. He was in his garden trying to harvest rows of tomatoes while in a wheelchair. Ernie only had one leg. As we got to know him better, we learned that Ernie had been a rather famous cow-boy riding steers and bucking horses in the rodeos. One day as he was going out of the chute, the horse lunged against the side wall and smashed his leg. It wouldn’t heal and eventually they amputated his leg. Under those conditions, he was trying to make a go of it on his own in Castle

Building the house.


Valley. He lived in a little root cellar that had six or eight steps down into a very small cinder block room. The roof on top was covered with earth. We also learned that Ernie was a member of the LDS Church.

Eventually, Ernie got someone to haul some poles and logs down from the mountains for him, and he began to build a house. From his wheelchair, Ernie could only get the poles up about three feet and couldn’t go any higher. Some of the men and young men in the branch had work projects to help him. They hauled the poles and built up the log walls. Finally they helped build a roof and put chinking in the cracks of the logs to keep the weather out. Before long Ernie had a better place to stay: his own house made of logs. In the fall, we’d get loads of firewood and bring to him. We cut and split the wood and stacked it by his door. He had a big barrel stove that he used to keep warm in the winter time.

Ernie began to have trouble with his lungs. He had emphysema. He’d started smoking years before, and though it was destroying his lungs, he just couldn’t seem to give it up. One day as I was visiting with Ernie, he said, “I had friends—if you can call them friends—who talked me into smoking. Look what they did to me!” He put his hands in a circle and said, “If I could get a hold of those guys, I would choke them to death!” Eventually he had to be constantly on oxygen, and in time he passed away. He was buried in Castle Valley and left his property to the Church.

The Orchard

In talking about the wonderful benefits of living in the country on a homestead, you might say we saved the

best until last. That was our trees and especially our fruit trees. Very early on we started planting. We put in nut trees, all kinds of fruit trees, shade trees, and even transplanted some little two-foot tall evergreens from the foothills. They survived, continued to grow, and are now very tall trees surrounding the house. We took the highest corner of the property, as we read we should do, to plant an orchard. Perhaps here, it wouldn’t get touched by frost. We planted three full rows of apple trees and additional ones up and down our driveway. We had about 40 different kinds of apples, from old-fashioned varieties to the latest crosses available at the time. We had apples as early as the cherries and apricots came on. As the later apples came on, they could be juiced and eaten or saved and stored. We never used sprays or commercial fertilizers. We had plenty of horse and cow manure to enrich our fields and gardens. We had a couple rows of pear trees, and we had rows of special varieties of plums and Italian prunes. There was a row of apricot trees, cherry trees, and several rows of nectarine and peach trees.

When the frost got our earlier fruit, we still had plenty of other fruit left. Even on the worst years,

Gregg, Jeff, Mathew, and Kimberly.

21


our apples and pears would sur-vive. On the good years, we had a bumper crop of everything. We found that being down in the val-ley and closer to the creek, we lost our cherries and apricots when people just above us would have them. But there was a silver lining to the cloud, because in the hot summers, when they were in the sun and roasting throughout the evening, we were down where the cooler breezes followed the creek bed from the mountains and it cooled us off nicely.

Serving as Branch President

I would drive the school bus down to Moab each morning. Then in the middle of the day, I drove my pick-up truck home to work at the farm, before the afternoon school bus run. There were some people that lived beyond Castle Valley, up by Dewey Bridge. I would often think about them and consider that maybe sometime I would just go by to visit. One particular day, as I drove up the highway and came to the turn-off to the farm, I thought about going to see them. But then I thought to myself, “Oh, I’ve got so much to do, there isn’t time for this. today” But I was so pressed that I should go see them, that I drove straight ahead to Dewey rather than making theturn. I knew Marge would wonder where I had gone.When I got to Dewey, I went to the door and knocked. A lady came to the door, and I said, “I’m Richard Stucki, the president of the Castle Valley Branch.” She immediately said, “Oh, I’ve prayed you here. I want to join your church.” Well, she invited me in and I asked her about what had happened. She explained that she had a grandson who had gone on a mission and returned. He was so different than most of the young men she knew, and she so admired him. She said she wanted to belong to a church that makes people like him. She took the discussions, joined the church, and faithfully attended Castle Valley Branch. Her husband would bring her each Sunday morning, and once in awhile, especially at the first, he would stay. He was a good man, but he just wasn’t prepared or ready to understand the principles of the restoration and the gospel. He was always kind to us though. Marjorie and Richard.

Dad pruning in the orchard.


Eventually this sister passed away, but before that, she went to the temple and received her endowments. She was a faithful member of the Church for the rest of her life. It was great lesson to me of the tragedy it is when we, as Latter-day Saints, don’t live the way we should and set a wrong example. But what a beautiful thing it is in the lives of those we touch, if we really are what we profess to be as a Latter-day Saint.

We had a another sister in the branch, and she was a super person that contributed so much—as did her husband. We got to be close. I was was home doing things be-tween bus runs one day, and she called and said, “Pres-ident Stucki, I want to talk to you.” I told her I’d be happy to meet with her and asked when she wanted to make an appointment. She said, “I want to talk to you now!” So I sat down with her, and she had been in tears. She talked about a mistake she had made when she was a teenager. She had lived a good life, served in the church, and had done everything she knew of to follow

the Savior for many, many years since. There was someone in her relations who seemed to be an authority on all kinds of things, and especially church doctrine, who had said she could never be forgiven for what she had done. She had thought about that, and it had caused a lot of sorrow for her. She asked me if that was true. In my position as

Guy and Robyn(Right)

Horse rides(Left)

Terri and Gregg getting a portrait.(Above)

Kimberly in the Sweet Shop.(Right)

Castle Valley Primary Fair

23


branch president, I could speak in behalf of the Church. The Savior speaks for himself on matters of forgiveness, but I assured her that she was forgiven. The Savior’s atonement makes up for our mistakes in life when we truly repent. I told her she will be, and can be, forgiven. This assurance turned her life around. It broke the terrible gloom that had hung over her, and she was so grateful to finally be released from something that had bothered her for years. She should have been given that freedom many years sooner, so she didn’t have to deal with such a feeling of hopelessness all those years. It was a glorious event in my life to see the Savior’s mercy apply in a person’s life to lift them, heal them, and give them hope for the future.

A neighbor who was close to us was Dennis Godwin, a counselor in the branch presidency. He was home teaching a family where the man had once been a member, but he got into anti-Mormon stuff that turned him off. He had became belligerent. He exercised all the influence he had to try to destroy the Church—as we read about some did in the days of the Book of Mormon—influencing some church members to fall away. He had done this for years, but became friendly because of the kindness of a neighbor, Dennis Godwin, in visiting him, taking an interest in him, and loving him and his wife and children in spite of everything. One night as I was about to retire, I got a call from Dennis. He said, “President Stucki, we’ve got to go over and see [the brother]. He’s having terrible trouble over what has happened and wants a priesthood blessing.” I asked Dennis what had happened, and he said the man had a special experience in which he realized that he had been doing the wrong thing in fighting the Savior’s work for all these years and negatively influencing others. It had just about destroyed his peace of mind. He was feeling it was hopeless, and that he could never be forgiven for the things he had done. I told Dennis I would come, and we went over to the man’s house. The brother had been in tears. I gave him a priesthood blessing, and the spirit of the Lord told me the things to say. Now we have to be careful, because we don’t speak for the Lord. He makes his decisions about forgive-ness or not forgiving, but we have the right to receive a message from the Holy Ghost if we are in tune. It came to me that this man, because of his great sorrow for his sins and desire to repent, had been forgiven. I told him that. I also told him that he was now to move forward, serve the Lord the best he could, be active, and help his family to grow up with faith in God and the divine mission of Jesus Christ. When the blessing was over, the relief that this brother felt, the hope that he had, the determination he showed to do just as he had been counseled, was marvelous. As long as he was in the branch, I saw him active and raising his family right. They moved away, but I had contact with him over several years after that. He had sons going on missions, and he lived his life in hope because of the mercy the Savior extends to those who repent, and he had repented. To

Dennis Godwin


be there present and see this happen was a marvelous experience.

At first there were a lot of families moving into the valley. Some people came for the same reason we did; they could afford the land and there was a trend to get back to the country. Later on, the proper-ty went up in price. Then the people who were buying property were retired couples

with money enough to build a house and do the things they wanted to do. But often they didn’t have too many years before one of them would get sick and pass away, and the surviving spouse would have to find another place. One family we got to know well was an older, retired couple. I think one of them had some connection with the Church as a child, but they were of the typical Protestant thinking. I would visit with them from time-to-time, and we got to be good friends. They lived in a very run down little trailer with an add-on constructed kitchen. We would often discuss religion, although we didn’t make doctrinal progress. On one occasion when I visited with them, I learned that they were losing their lot because they were behind two payments. When they missed the next one, the person who had sold them the property wanted it back. He want-ed to resell the property and make a better profit. So this couple was about to lose their home. I went home and thought about that a bit. As branch president, I was in charge of the fast offering funds and could draw on them. I had very little occasion to do so, although many people in Cas-tle Valley were struggling hard to make ends meet. In this case, it would have taken such a little bit. I knew the funds were reserved for the use of the Saints and what the program is, but I said to myself, “Well, what would the Savior do if he were here?” So I wrote out a check and paid their back payments to save their property. They had no place else to go and not money enough to buy anything else. They would have been homeless. The rest of the time we were in Castle Valley they lived there. Eventually they passed away and a son lived there. I’ve thought what a great difference it made to have a little compassion for someone in need, outside of the Church as well as within.

As branch president, I was a part of many things which I never went home and talked about. In fact, Margie would often hear about things through the grapevine that I had never mentioned. I didn’t want to violate any confidences that had been shared with to me.

The family gathered together before Randy and Gregg leave on their missions.

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Missions

During the time that we were trying to get things done on the farm—fences, irrigation lines, head gates, septic tank and sewer lines in so that we had plumbing in the house—our son, Randy, had come to help with these projects. He had already graduated from high school and had worked some in Salt Lake. But now, he had come to live with us and had spent something like two years fully helping us on all of our projects. He did much of the work himself which was an amazing help. We had talked to him about going on a mission. He had thought about it and had discussed it with us from time to time. One night as we were about to retire, Margie said, “Richard, have you talked to Randy again about his mission?” I said,“No,” and she said, “Well you ought to do it!” She was right. So I asked Randy to sit down and talk with me for a few minutes. We had a little room in the house that could be used as a study for my branch president duties. I sat down with Randy and asked him about his thoughts on a mission. He said that he felt we really needed his help. He still had work to finish that he wanted to help us with. I asked, “Randy, would you re-ally like to know what the Savior wants you to do?” He answered that, yes, he would like to know. So I said, “Randy, I know what he wants you to do.” I told him that he should fulfill a mission, and if he would go and kneel in prayer, he would be enlightened and given an answer. He would know for himself whether what I was telling him really was the wish of the Savior. After we talked for some time, I went to bed. In a little while, Randy came in and said, “Dad and Mom, I’ve come to tell you that I’m going on a mission. I’ve prayed and had a very remarkable experience that I’ve never had before. I know what Dad has told me is the right thing to do. So I’m going on a mission.”

Once again, we see the promise made by the Savior in the scriptures, that if we will ask in faith and with real sincerity, we will receive an answer to our prayers. Randy received his answer graciously from a merciful God. It turned out that he and Gregg were both on mis-sions at the same time. It was a joy to our family. Hav-ing had all of the help that Randy had given us for the two years prior, we made out well while he was gone.

A Chapel in Castle Valley

As the branch grew and new fami-lies moved in, the number of people attending meetings increased. We got word that they were going to build a nice chapel for the branch in Castle Valley. Of interest, this was a time when the Church started a new program to build many small chapels that could be added onto

Randy and Gregg as returned missionaries.


and fill the needs as the unit grew. Castle Valley was the first of the small chapels that was built. I believe the program has been going on, very much as designed, in many parts of the world. We were most excited about having our own building. Dennis Godwin, whom I mentioned earlier, was in charge of the building project. He was a contractor, and he knew what should be done. He saw to it that everything was followed very carefully; he never cut corners. We had a contractor that we employed from Moab, who built a little storage building behind the chapel. When he got through with it, we noticed that he hadn’t put the footings in that had been called for on the specs. To save himself considerable time and money, he had just poured a concrete slab. That cre-ated a problem for him and for us. Dennis was not that way. It was no wonder, to me, to see him given other larger projects. He remodeled a temple in Hawaii and worked on temples in different parts of the land. Finally he ended up being in charge of the temple built in Nigeria. It was the most challenging experience that could be imagined, but Dennis Godwin, a rare person, could handle it. Knowing him as I did, it didn’t surprise me that he was the one who was sent to Africa for that very difficult assignment.

School Bus Driving Experiences

During the cold wintertime, I would often have considerable trouble getting the bus to start on mornings when the temperature had dropped low at night. There were some tricks I learned from the district Head of Transportation to get the bus started. Finally, after enough trouble, he got some kind of an engine heater put in the bus that I could plug in at night. That solved the prob-lem. However, one morning, I was having real trouble getting the bus started. I was about 15 minutes late for my run by the time I got the bus moving. I had been instructed to always go up to the top of the valley and not pick anybody up, until I turned around and came down. That way I would only stop once at each stop after more of the kids had arrived. As I proceeded along that morning, I saw a little girl coming down the road. She wasn’t to the bus stop yet, and I just con-tinued on. When I got to the top of the route, I turned around and came back. The little girl was at the stop with her daddy and was he ever mad! He really told me off for having left his little girl, standing in that bitter cold, with no gloves on her hands. I just listened and realized there wasn’t much I could say at the moment. I felt that how it turned out would probably have more to do with what I did now, than what he had said. He was a brother in the branch, and I didn’t want any bad feelings in the branch. When I got to town and was thinking about it, some teachings of the Savior came to mind, such as, “Bless them that curse you and do good to them...” I thought that I would buy the little girl a pair of warm gloves and write a note to her dad explaining the policy. I wanted to tell him that if I had known she was so cold, I would have stopped for her anyhow, regardless of the policy, and that I had made a mistake. I asked him to please forgive Driving the school bus.

27


me. So when she got off the bus after school, she went home with gloves on her hands and my little note. That was the end of the problem, and the father’s friendship and mine continued to grow in the years ahead. Some years later, when he suddenly passed away in the valley, the fam-ily asked me to speak at his funeral. Such things as the Savior taught can help us avoid big prob-lems. It was pleasing to see how this all tuned out well.

Every bus driver has some difficult students that don’t want to follow the rules, like not keep-ing in their seats, throwing things around the bus, or hollering profanities and vile words back and forth. Mostly the kids were well behaved on the bus. It took just a couple of the other kids to create a problem. Some of those kids didn’t like my efforts to try and calm them down. One day their parents showed up at the school superinten-dent’s office and demanded he get a new bus driver. He called me in a little later and told me that I was on probation. Well the next morning, a whole group of parents from families in the valley, whose chil-dren rode the bus, showed up at his office. They said to him, “What do we hear about you replacing Richard? We don’t want our kids subject to vile talk on the bus. We’re very concerned about our kids going down that treacherous river road, especially in the winter time. Richard is very careful, very conscientious, and we trust him to get them to school safely. If you put somebody else in as bus driver that we don’t have confidence in, you’ll not have our kids riding the bus to school any longer.” Well, I got reinstated, and that was the end of that problem. Later on, I continued to have trouble with a particular boy. I thought perhaps his parents didn’t know what was going on, and maybe if they did, they would give me some support and expect him to behave on the bus. I called his mother and began to explain the problem. She said, “Don’t call me every time my boy does something wrong on the bus. That’s your problem, not mine!” Well, I could see good reason why that boy was hard to control. His parents didn’t care how he acted, and I didn’t get any support from them.

One special little experience occurred as a bus driver. I started doing a bus run down in Moab, where I drove to the outskirts of town to pick up students and take them home after school. One

Castle Valley and Castle Rock.


day, a little girl who had been riding the bus, and seemed to have a sweet disposition, stopped by me a moment and said, “Mr. Stucki, would you be my grandpa?” I said, “Well sure. I would be delighted to be your grandpa.” So every day when she got on the bus she would take a moment to say, “Good morning, Grandpa. I hope your day is going well,” or something like that. When she’d get off the bus after school, she would reach over and give me a little hug and say, “Good-bye, Grandpa. I hope you have a good afternoon.” That continued for as long as I was doing that run and she rode my bus.

Mathew’s Accident

It was 1980 and a feeling of tranquility had settled around us on the farm. At the time, Mathew was in high school and on the football team. He was working at City Market on the side. He made good pay and bought himself a car, so he was able to drive himself to football practice.

Margie and I, along with Robyn, had decided that we would attend BYU Education Week in Provo that year. We arrived in Provo, where we stayed overnight, and started attending classes the next morning. That was August 20, 1980. We went to a large auditorium where there was going to be a keynote speaker. Just before the speaker began, we heard an announce-ment over the loud speaker that said, “Richard and Marjorie Stucki, if you are in the audience, please go to the telephone at the receptionist desk.” Our hearts were filled with a fear as to what had happened. We took the phone and learned that Mathew had been in a terrible accident on his way to foot-ball practice that very morning. Apparently there had been fresh asphalt laid on the bridge that went over a creek by the Tommy White ranch. With the right moisture and temperature conditions, fresh asphalt can be slick. Mathew’s car had slid on the asphalt and collided with the big cement barricade of the bridge. His car was cut in two, and Mathew landed on the pavement below it. We learned that he had been transport-ed to Saint Mary’s hospital in Grand Junction, Colorado, by ambulance. We left Provo immediately for Grand Junction. We stopped a time or two along the way to phone the hospital and check on his condition. However, nobody was willing to tell us much about it. We had a drive of several hours before we got to the hospital.

When we arrived at St. Mary’s hospital, we were ushered into the intensive care unit. Mathew was lying, unconscious, on a rotating bed. He had an apparatus on with pins holding his head and weights that hung down to stretch his neck. We were told he had broken vertebra in his neck. It was a terrible sight to see. He remained unconscious for quite a number of days, very slowly coming out of it. He went through all the different stages that people with head injuries typically go through.

Mathew at the farm.

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That first night in Grand Junction, we got a motel room and used the last money we had on hand to pay for a night’s lodging. We could see that we were going to be there with Mathew for a long while. There was no way that we could afford to rent a motel that long. I wondered who could give us a little help in a strange place where we didn’t know any-one. It came into my mind to call the bishop in that area, and so we did. I explained our situation and asked if there might be someone who had a room to let out. He said he would check on it. Pretty soon he called back and said he had found a place for us. However, there only one condi-tion: the lady where we would stay would NOT take any

money for helping us. The lady’s husband was a sheep man, and they had quite a bit of property. He loved to stay up on the sheep ranch. He would come down very seldom, just to pay some bills and say, “hello.” The lady, Sister Olsen, wished that her husband might have considered that at this time of life, they could have traveled and done things together. They had grown children and things weren’t going well with some of them (again evidence that too much money is worse on children than too little). She was trying to keep happy by giving service to others. She took us into their lovely, large home, gave us a key, and let us come and go as we needed to. They had donated considerable land to the hospital to help build and expand the facilities. Their house was located on the edge of the hospital grounds, so we could easily walk from the house to the hospi-tal. Most every morning, noon, and evening, she had a meal prepared for us. This lovely lady had done the same thing for a number of people through the years who found themselves in circum-stances similar to us.

Margie would stay with Mathew through the week when I had to carry on my bus driving. Then I would go over to the hospital on the weekends. Sometimes we would both be there together. Robyn, and sometimes Brent, also took turns taking shifts at the hospital. We tried to stay with Mathew day and night for a while. At times we had car problems and couldn’t even drive back and forth, except Robyn let us use her car, which saved the day for us. Mathew had been given a tracheotomy, so he couldn’t talk when he began to regain consciousness. He slowly learned to write on a little blackboard in order to tell us something. In time, he got pretty capable at writ-ing his messages. For a period of time, and when he was going through those difficult stages, he would ask me every day to give him a blessing, which I did. We sometimes think that having one blessing is sufficient, but we never turn down a request by someone who is comforted and sus-tained by additional blessings. Mathew was comforted very much by each blessing. Sometimes we were interrupted when nurses would come into the room, but they would wait for the blessing to end. Mathew, and those of us with him, were so long at the hospital that we got to known by all of the staff. They referred to us as “the family that prays together.”

There was a wonderful staff of doctors and nurses, including some very dedicated nuns. Mathew’s doctor was a specialist in head injuries and very capable. We were very grateful we

Mathew reading a story to Levi and Kim.


had someone with his background. Eventually Mathew’s trachea tube was removed, and the hole in his throat closed up, enabling him to talk again. In time, they wanted him to go to a rehabilita-tion facility. They felt that it would be essential for him to make progress. He went to rehab but was unhappy with the experience from beginning to end. He just wanted to get back home more than anything else. We told the doctors and rehab staff, “We know another month or so here seems like it would be helpful, and you feel it’s necessary, but we would like Mathew to come home.” As soon as he got home a miracle occurred in his prog-ress. Being with us at home, he was transformed from almost a scarecrow into a very happy and healthy person. His facul-ties had all returned to just about normal. His doctor was very pleased that he had a patient who had been left without handicap, as so many people typically are with similar types of injuries. This experience reinforced our understanding that we are not spared trials in this life. The rain descends on the just and the unjust, as well as the sunshine. But Father in Heaven, in his mercy, when we have been serving in the Saviors cause, brings about some remarkable things to see us through our trials. We had been blessed, and Mathew had been very richly blessed by Father in Heaven, as we endured this experience.

When we finally got all the bills, the expense for Mathew’s accident was enormous. But because he had been working at City Market and was on their insurance plan, nearly every dollar was paid by the insurance. There was just a small amount that we had to pay. What a blessing! If that hadn’t been the case, we would have had to sell the farm to pay the bills, and that still wouldn’t have been enough.

A Terrible Tragedy

It was September 21, 1979. Between bus runs, I had gone gone to pick apples in a orchard owned by some friends in Moab. They let us take all of the fallen apples we wanted. I had loaded many boxes of apples into our pickup truck. Robyn’s husband, Guy, was planning to drive the truck home after he finished work. Just prior to that, he had gone to a used furniture shop in town to put some money down on a treadle sewing machine he wanted to surprise Robyn with. They didn’t have electric power yet, so Robyn couldn’t sew with a regular sewing machine. I had to drive the bus back to the valley, so the plan was for Guy to drive the truck home. The next day, which was Saturday, we planned to get together and press

Mathew recovering back at home.

Guy and Robyn at their wedding open house.

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the apples into fresh apple juice.

I got home from my bus run and was working in the garden when a neighbor stopped by. He told me that on the way home, Guy had been hit head on by a large truck carrying a huge engine on its flatbed, and he had been killed. Earlier in the afternoon, Robyn had come down to our house and was awaiting Guy’s return. She was sitting in our living room and holding their one-month-old baby son. I told Robyn the terrible news and we were all in tears. She said, “Dad, I need a blessing,” and so I gave her a blessing.

Over the next couple of days, I built a coffin for Guy out of redwood and cedar boards which I tongue and grooved. We lined the coffin with a beau-tiful hand-embroidered quilt that had been made by the sisters in our old Salt Lake City ward.We didn’t have our LDS chapel yet in Castle Valley, but had been using the Seventh Day Adventist Academy building for our meetings. They offered to let us use their chapel, and the Academy choir sang at the fu-neral. While we were preparing for the funeral, Mar-jorie had tearfully told me that she had been fasting and praying to have a confirmation that everything we believed in about eternal life and the resurrection was all true. I was impressed that I needed to fast and pray also, that she might receive a confirmation of the truth of those things. I was branch president and so I conducted the funeral and also spoke. As I looked down at Robyn and Marjorie, I could see great peace on their faces. I knew that the confirma-tion that had been asked for, and the peace that Marjo-rie had sought, had come to both of them. The chapel was filled with people from the branch, the Seventh Day Academy, and friends from Moab. It was a long awaited opportunity for me to bear testimony to our Seventh Day friends of the res-toration and other truths of the gospel. There were several graves in some small plots from years ago that were now in the center of the Castle Valley development. The land owners decided to deed this property as a permanent cemetary for Castle Valley. This is where Guy was buried.

Another trial for Robyn

Robyn and Guy had almost finished building their temporary home on their own property up the valley from us. After Guy’s death, I went there with Robyn, and she showed me some things that still needed to be done, which I completed for her. She and Levi had been staying with us at our home ever since Guy’s accident. In their house up the valley, Robyn had most of her things and all of Guy’s belongings stored there. This included some valuable antiques and other items that meant a lot to her.

Robyn, Levi, and Grandpa Curtis on the day of Guy’s funeral.


One day we heard shouts that a fire that had start-ed in the valley. Some men who were drilling a well had been welding and sparks had flown into the dry weeds. A brush fire was spreading rapidly up the valley. Everyone in the valley at the time could see the seriousness of the situation. The fire could potentially burn a number of homes. So with tractors, bulldozers, and other equipment, people tried to widen the roads and create breaks to contain the fire. However, the fire continued to rage up the valley threatening Robyn’s build-ing. In spite of our efforts to try and knock the flames out with shovels, the brush fire got to her home and burned it to the ground. Robyn lost the house and everything that was stored there. This happened on August 5, 1980. It was another tragedy to try us all. We have observed that the most faithful often have serious trials. We have been told that those who aren’t bitter, but who stand fast as disciples of Christ, no matter the trials, “...are they into whose hands the Father has given all things” (D&C 76:50-70).

The Bakery Business

As time went by, we found that we needed to supplement our income. Margie had always been known among family and friends for her excellent baking. She made breads and rolls of various kinds. I don’t think her cookies and muffins could be surpassed. She got the idea that if she made extra batches, and we packaged the baked goods at the farm, we might be able to sell them in Moab. I would leave early for my afternoon bus run and take the baked goods with me that she made that same morning. Then I delivered them to some small grocery stores and corner mar-

kets in town. They were very happy to have the baked goods, and every day they would sell out. The baked goods became very much in demand. Eventually, Margie taught me how to make the muffins, and in time, I made literally thousands of them. Margie made all the bread, rolls, cookies and other baked items.

Because of the success we were having, we de-cided to open a small retail bake shop in Moab. The business grew and soon we expanded the operation. We added sandwiches made on our own homemade buns, salads, desserts, and many other things. We got a larger location downstairs in the Emporium and put in tables and chairs so

Robyn and Levi

The bakery at the Grand Emporium.

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customers could sit down and eat. We moved all of our bak-ery equipment from the farm to the new location on Main Street in Moab. Between my bus runs, I would help Marjorie with things. She did all of the baking in the back of the shop. We opened for customers in time for lunch, and about the time I would leave to do the afternoon bus run, we would close. We hired some good help, some ladiesthat we knew, and several of our chil-

dren earned money by helping us after school. The restau-rant was very popular with our customers, but a great deal of work for us, especially as we did everything from scratch. Considering our expenses, Margie and I were only making a modest income for all of our hard work. Eventually, we began to ask ourselves if there wasn’t something we could do that would be more lucrative, with the same amount of time and hard work. With her creative mind, Marjorie came up with an new venture that seemed more promising. Phyllis Godwin working at the bakery.

Mom, Leigh and Keith Grant at Sunflower Hill Farmhouse Pantry(the restaurant in Moab).

To be continued...

Castle Valley Years - Part 1

Lifestyle

good money

different stores

different malls

thats mak ing money

period of time

new malls

expansion time