A Christmas Story by: Charlie Wardle
December has got to be one of the slowest months of the year. It seem like it takes Christmas forever to get here.
Our family always started celebrating Christmas early. Right after Thanksgiving is over we all start thinking about Christmas. A week after Thanksgiving, the Christmas tree goes up.
During the evenings of December our family loves to gather around the Christmas tree to watch the lights on it. With the white snow outside, and all the lights in the house off, except, for the lights on the Christmas tree, the glow on the lights on the tree make the room very peaceful.
It is at this time the family would like to tell Christmas stories of the past. I was five when this story happened, the youngest of the family. Our family was living in Hyrum, Utah, while my dad was going to school in Denver.
With my mom being pregnant, my dad was the only one in the family, who could put up the Christmas tree. For us kids, not having our Christmas tree up was just terrible. All of our friends had their tree up, but not us. Some of us kids started wondering if we might miss Christmas this year, because we knew Santa Couldn’t find us if we didn’t have a tree.
We begged and pleaded with Mom several times to put the tree up. She would just say, “Dad will be home before Christmas, he will put it up when he gets home.” It seemed like it took forever for Dad to get home. A couple of days before Christmas Dad did come home.
On Christmas Eve, we as a family went out to buy our tree. We kids were wondering if there would be any trees left. Dad said, teasing us, “If we can’t find a Christmas tree, we’ll just have to use Mom’s flower plant instead of a tree.” All us kids started whining. We didn’t want a flower plant, we wanted a Christmas tree.
When we got to the tree place, to our surprise, there were a lot of trees left, and they were all half off, which made Mom and Dad happy. All us kids ran over to the biggest and fluffiest tree there, telling mom and dad we wanted that one. Mom and Dad didn’t like it though because there was a small part on it with no branches. We kids begged and pleaded until Mom and Dad bought it. Dad also fought a few extra branches to cover up the hole. We loaded the tree into the trunk of the car and headed for home to get that tree up before Santa got there.
When we got home, Dad put the tree in the garage to drill the holes for the branches and spray the snow on it. We kids enjoyed watching Dad do this. We made good and sure that Dad hurried so we could get the lights and bulbs on it before Santa got there.
When Dad got done he brought the tree in and set it in front of the big window in the front room. All us kids grabbed some bulbs to put them on the tree. But Dad stopped us, telling us that the lights went on first. Sara, the oldest of us kids, grabbed the Santa Claus face which had a light in it, to put on the top of the tree. Then Sara, Connie, Weldon and Bill, all the kids that were big enough to reach the top of the tree, helped Dad put the lights up high, while I helped at the bottom of the tree. We then put the bulbs on the tree, being the littlest, I did the ones on the bottom of the tree while my brothers and sisters did the ones up higher. Soon the tree was all done. We all stepped back to watch, while Sara plugged in the lights; the whole tree lit up very bright and beautiful.
We were now ready for Christmas. All of us went and got our presents we had bought each other, and set them under the tree.
Mom had some nice hot chocolate for us which tasted real nice on that cold winter night.
Whenever we kids could, we would sneak over to the tree to see if we could find a present that belonged to us. When we found one of our own, we could shake it and squeeze it to try to figure out what was inside it. When Mom would see us feeling packages, she would say “now kids leave those alone before you break one—and get away from that tree before you knock the tree over.”
Then the begging would start, “Mom can we please open one up tonight?” We kept on begging until she would give in. We then had the big decision; which one do I open? Which one is the best? We would carefully pick out the one that we wanted to open. The one that I opened was a GI Joe doll. Right after we opened our presents Mom and Dad would send us all off to bed.
Christmas Eve was the hardest night there was to fall asleep. I remember just falling to sleep when I heard a noise upstairs. I thought to myself, “Santa is here.” I waited for about five minutes, and then I started for the upstairs to see what I got. About half way up I heard my daddy say “Back to bed!” I asked him, “Has Santa come yet?” My dad replied “No! And he won’t come until you get to sleep.” I went back to bed, and lay there until I fell to sleep.
About four in the morning, Weldon and Bill came to me, saying that Santa had come, Santa had come! Hearing that I jumped right out of bed, ran up the stairs to see that Santa had found our house, and brought us lots of toys.
Showing posts with label Charlie's Book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charlie's Book. Show all posts
Friday, November 23, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Skinny Dippin' by Charlie Wardle
“Skinny Dippin’” by: Charlie Wardle
One day while we were at Granma Wardle’s in Rigby, Idaho, Dad decided that he would take us boys and some of our cousins to his old swimming hole for a swim. Since we didn’t have any swimming suits with us, Dad said it would be alright to go skinny dipping. When Uncle Olsen heard this, (he was very strict with his children) he told his two boys that if they even got a little wet, he’d beat them.
Dad assured Mother and Aunt Verna that his swimming hole was where no one could see us. It ended up being about twenty yards away from a busy highway.
Dad’s swimming hole was a great big canal with a small ditch that ran along the side of it. The place where we were swimming had about five great big trees and a rope hanging from one of the trees to swing across. Dad said there used to be a diving board when he used to swim, but it was gone.
The people that ended up going were Dad, Weldon, bill, Charlie, the two Olsen boys and Danny Green. The canal we were swimming in was fairly deep, at least over my head, and it was fairly swift.
We would walk up the ditch about thirty or forty yards, then hurry and jump into the canal and float on down the canal.
We had the Olsen boys at each end of the canal when we were swimming, to watch for cars when we switched from the canal to the ditch; or from the ditch to the canal.
One time when we were moving from the ditch to the canal, Weldon got up on the bridge that went over the canal, to dive in. While Weldon was standing on the bridge a car came by. Weldon didn’t have time to jump in so he just stood there and waved. The funny thing about it was that the people in the car were Sara and Clyde. When Sara noticed that the person standing on the side of the road nude was her brother Weldon, her bottom jaw dropped so far that I thought it was going to fall off.
After we got done swimming and put on our clothes, Weldon, Billy and Danny started swinging across the canal on the rope. The younger Olsen boy [Reed] wanted to try swinging across the canal, but his oldest brother [Ray] told him he better not in case he fell in. To show his oldest brother that he could do it, he grabbed the rope and started across. He just barely reached the bank on the other side with his “tippy-toes”. He was trying to pull himself up with the rope when his grip slipped and in he went. We all started laughing at him. When he pulled himself out, his brother was telling him how he had told him that he shouldn’t have swung across the canal on the rope. He got mad at his brother and pushed him in the canal so they both got wet.
When we got back to Grandma’s their dad was so mad with them they both had to go sit in their van until their family left Grandma’s.
One day while we were at Granma Wardle’s in Rigby, Idaho, Dad decided that he would take us boys and some of our cousins to his old swimming hole for a swim. Since we didn’t have any swimming suits with us, Dad said it would be alright to go skinny dipping. When Uncle Olsen heard this, (he was very strict with his children) he told his two boys that if they even got a little wet, he’d beat them.
Dad assured Mother and Aunt Verna that his swimming hole was where no one could see us. It ended up being about twenty yards away from a busy highway.
Dad’s swimming hole was a great big canal with a small ditch that ran along the side of it. The place where we were swimming had about five great big trees and a rope hanging from one of the trees to swing across. Dad said there used to be a diving board when he used to swim, but it was gone.
The people that ended up going were Dad, Weldon, bill, Charlie, the two Olsen boys and Danny Green. The canal we were swimming in was fairly deep, at least over my head, and it was fairly swift.
We would walk up the ditch about thirty or forty yards, then hurry and jump into the canal and float on down the canal.
We had the Olsen boys at each end of the canal when we were swimming, to watch for cars when we switched from the canal to the ditch; or from the ditch to the canal.
One time when we were moving from the ditch to the canal, Weldon got up on the bridge that went over the canal, to dive in. While Weldon was standing on the bridge a car came by. Weldon didn’t have time to jump in so he just stood there and waved. The funny thing about it was that the people in the car were Sara and Clyde. When Sara noticed that the person standing on the side of the road nude was her brother Weldon, her bottom jaw dropped so far that I thought it was going to fall off.
After we got done swimming and put on our clothes, Weldon, Billy and Danny started swinging across the canal on the rope. The younger Olsen boy [Reed] wanted to try swinging across the canal, but his oldest brother [Ray] told him he better not in case he fell in. To show his oldest brother that he could do it, he grabbed the rope and started across. He just barely reached the bank on the other side with his “tippy-toes”. He was trying to pull himself up with the rope when his grip slipped and in he went. We all started laughing at him. When he pulled himself out, his brother was telling him how he had told him that he shouldn’t have swung across the canal on the rope. He got mad at his brother and pushed him in the canal so they both got wet.
When we got back to Grandma’s their dad was so mad with them they both had to go sit in their van until their family left Grandma’s.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Malad Baseball Tournament
Malad Baseball Tournament by: Billy Wardle
When we were younger, we like to play baseball, but mostly we coached. Our baseball escapades gave us the opportunity to go to tournaments in Malad every year. We also went to other cities, but it seemed Malad was always our favorite. So much so that the city of Malad always held something magical for me.
The Malad tournament was held in August every year, usually the second weekend. It was about an hour drive from Hyrum. We would go up and camp out. We stayed in placed like the American Legion Hall, the old hospital, camped downtown; and camped by an old church.
The town always bustled with excitement. There was pinball to be played (this was before all the video games came out), a free swim pass to use, a free bowling pass, free movies as well as free prizes from some of the local merchants.
Of course there was the baseball too. Our teams varied in their performance, but we seemed to get better over the years. It was always more fun to win. It allowed you to stay more days at the tournament. It also allowed you to hold your head up high when you ran into kids from any of the other fifteen teams. It was especially good when you were in a championship game—which happened a few times.
When we were younger, we like to play baseball, but mostly we coached. Our baseball escapades gave us the opportunity to go to tournaments in Malad every year. We also went to other cities, but it seemed Malad was always our favorite. So much so that the city of Malad always held something magical for me.
The Malad tournament was held in August every year, usually the second weekend. It was about an hour drive from Hyrum. We would go up and camp out. We stayed in placed like the American Legion Hall, the old hospital, camped downtown; and camped by an old church.
The town always bustled with excitement. There was pinball to be played (this was before all the video games came out), a free swim pass to use, a free bowling pass, free movies as well as free prizes from some of the local merchants.
Of course there was the baseball too. Our teams varied in their performance, but we seemed to get better over the years. It was always more fun to win. It allowed you to stay more days at the tournament. It also allowed you to hold your head up high when you ran into kids from any of the other fifteen teams. It was especially good when you were in a championship game—which happened a few times.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Wolfer by: Charlie Wardle
Although our family had lots of pets over the years, Wolfer was our big family dog. He was almost just like one of the family.
We got Wolfer on my ninth birthday in 1970. Wolfer died in the spring of 1979.
He was the type of dog that you would call a “mutt”, having about ten different breeds in him. He was a very colorful, smart, and a very strong dog.
When Wolf was a pup, the neighbor’s dog, a German shepherd, used to pick on Wolf a lot. One time, the dog put a great big hole in Wolf’s head, just above his eye. He had a scar there the rest of his life. I always felt the Wolf learned how to fight from the dog, because when Wolf grew up, he was always getting into dog fights and won most of them.
There was on time, Wolf was fighting a big, black lab. Wolf was beating that dog up pretty good. The lab’s owner, who was a little boy, was crying, so I went to pull wolf off when the black lab bit me on the leg. When Wolf saw that, he jumped at the dog and got a death bite on the dog’s neck and started swinging the dog back and forth. Wolf finally let go and the dog took off down the street with his tail between his legs.
Wolfer always kept stray dogs and cats away. We never had any problems with dogs getting into our garbage.
Wolf was a very smart dog. If a door wasn’t shut tight, he could open it. You couldn’t tie him up, he would always get away. We went through a lot of chains and ropes that Wolfer broke trying to get away.
One time, Clyde (our brother-in-law) thought that he would out-smart Wolf by putting a choke chain on him (a chain that when you pull it, it gets tighter.) But Wolf out-smarted him. Wolf would just back out, and the chain slipped right over his head.
One time, Buffie (our nephew) wandered off to a barn a couple of blocks away from our house. Wolf, who was watching him, knew he was someplace where he shouldn’t be and came back home, got mom, then lead her to where Buffie was.
Another time we were swimming at our favorite place at Hyrum Dam called Rocky Point. Wolf noticed some birds in the middle of the dam on a “thing” the city had out there trying to clean the dam. Wolf jumped in and started swimming towards those birds. We all followed on our inner-tubes. When Wolf got to the place where the birds were, they all flew away. All of us kept on paddling towards the other side, and Wolf followed. After we got to the other side, we went back to the side where Rocky Point was at, and Wolf followed. (We did give him a chance to rest before we started back.)
Wolf was a very fast runner and loved to run. Whenever we would go in the car over to Sara’s house, Wolfer would race us over. Sara’s house was about three blocks away and Wolfer would usually beat us there.
There was only one person that Wolfer really disliked, and that was our neighbor Marty Smith. He was the only one I knew of that Wolfer had bitten.
On night, Marty and some of his friends were toilet papering our house. Wolfer was locked in our garage. Dad heard them outside and let Wolf out of the garage. The first thing Wolf did was he went and grabbed Marty by and arm and held him there while Dad chased the others away. Marty said that every time he tried to make a move to get away, Wolfer would make his grip tighter and bite down harder.
Wolfer loved to get bumble bees trapped in the garage against the window. He would jump up and lick them until the bees were dead.
Wolf did get into a lot of trouble with the police. One time he went through some people’s fiber glass garage door trying to get to a dog that was in heat. Mom and Dad ended up paying for the door.
Wolfer was the only dog I knew that got tickets from the police. He used to love to chase police cars.
Wolfer was the best dog our family ever had. He’s a dog that no other dog will ever be able to replace.
[Some of my memories of Wolf include my mom chasing him out of the house with a broom. She didn't like him in the house. A few days later for family home evening we were reenacting scenes on treating others with kindness, and a couple us kids pretended to be my mom with the broom and Wolf being chased.
Another memory is the way he use to chase us when we went anyplace. He would often follow us to Hyrum square. Sometimes when we were in the pickup, we would stop and let him jump in the back. He loved the wind in his face. But often he would beat us down to the square which was a mile away.]
Monday, October 22, 2012
Weldon Getting Sick by: Ileen Wardle
This story is probably the scariest experience that happened on the farm. When Weldon was eight he got very sick and almost died. This story is written by Mother.
All the children who were in school had been vaccinated for small pox and they all had good scab on them. We thought they were all healed and Weldon went swimming with some friends and he got his scab knocked off. It seemed to be all right. After church I came home and bathed and put the children to bed. Everyone was fine. My husband and I got up early the next morning as we had to take a tractor into Othello to be worked on. I left him with the tractor at the garage and came on home. It was around nine o’clock in the morning. I went into the boys’ room to get them out of bed. I looked at Weldon, and was horrified. Every muscle in his body was twitching and his eyes were rolled back in his head. I went screaming out the door to our hired man who was Spanish and couldn’t hardly speak English. He came into the house with me and we got a wet sheet and wrapped Weldon in it and took him into the hospital in Othello, Washington. It was a small hospital with only 16 beds. The doctor was afraid that Weldon might have some permanent brain damage.
In the mean time our hired man went and got my husband and our Bishop came and gave Weldon a special blessing. Jim and I then loaded him into our car after the doctor had shown us what to do to keep him from swallowing his tongue. The police escorted us 120 miles to Spokane. When we arrived at the hospital, Weldon started to rally. They took him into the emergency room and tapped his spine. They told us he had an acute virus and it was in his blood stream. I stayed with him for five days in the hospital and he improved every day. The doctor told us that if he had been under eight, he would have died. He is now a strong, healthy man, and has never had a sick day since. He is now a teacher and a coach, and also a father of three children [eventually four].
[Billy’s note: I was the first to see Weldon acting strangely as we shared a bunk bed with me on top. I remember looking at him very early in the morning and he was twitching and spitting up saliva. I asked him if he was playing a game and he didn’t respond. I went back to sleep, but my memory tells me I had gotten up when my mother came home, and I told her Weldon was acting strangely, although I didn’t perceive it as life threatening. It was her reaction that told me there was a problem.
I went through life thinking Weldon had a concussion. My dad had taken us to A&W for root beer on a Sunday. Somehow Weldon had bonked his head against the wall while we were horse playing. My memory must have been wrong and mixed two things together. I was five at the time.]
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Sleeping at the Hyrum Cemetery
When we were teenagers, my brothers and I and a couple of other friends in our neighborhood decided we would test our courage by spending a night in the cemetery. I’m not sure who all went. It seems a friend, David DeBolt was and also a girl, probably our cousin Tammy, buy maybe Connie, and our dog Wolfer.
We selected a site to lay out our sleeping bags at the lower end of the cemetery, past all the gravesites. I remember had had a hard time getting to sleep, and told some appropriate stories.
[We were all just about asleep when my dog Wolfer, who was tied up to the fence by where we were sleeping, started barking his head off and stepping all over us. All of us hurried and put the sleeping bags way over our heads thinking that there was someone coming with an ax to chop our heads off. We were all real scared.]
Weldon and Bill started arguing over who was going to get up to see who or what it was. Weldon said to me, “Charlie, get up and see who it is.” I replied, “No, you get up!” I think Billy was the first one up. By that time Wolfer had quit barking. No one really knew what it was that Wolfer was barking at. Bill thought it was a dog, but I couldn’t see a dog anywhere. ]
We settled back down to bed, and I was sleeping pretty well when Weldon woke me up, announcing we were going home. We all followed him. We packed our gear and started walking home, crossing the fence and quickly getting on the road. On the way home, a strange creature or something come down the road headed straight for us. I was really scared and almost took off running. As if got closer, and entered the light from a street light, it turned out to be a tumble weed blown by an early morning canyon wind.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Selling light Bulbs from Charlie's book
Selling Light Bulbs by: Charlie Wardle
One summer in Illinois, we had a big project of selling light bulbs to get money for Weldon to go to the Boy Scout National Jamboree.
It seems like we covered the whole town of Carbondale and some of the outside towns as we went door-to-door selling the lights.
Dad, Mom, Sara, and Connie all took turns driving us around while Weldon, Billy and Charlie went around to the houses asking people if they would like to buy some bulbs. One time when Connie was driving, she backed into a parked car. The car she ran into had been wrecked before. The owner of the car was trying to blame all of the damage on Connie. I remember Aunt Audrey arguing with the owner of the car and the police about trying to blame all the damage on Connie’s wreck. I think Aunt Audrey finally convinced the policeman that the owner of the car was lying.
[I remember the experience of going door-to-door, and we did cover almost all of town. Many places we went were rural, with big dogs. I was chased more than once by dogs, and developed a fear of big dogs as a result of this. It seems if you show fear to a dog he is more prone to chase you, so I had a hard time. Also at one point the car tire rolled over my foot as we were selling bulbs. It didn’t do any real damage but left some bruises. This was not the most fun experience of my youth. However Weldon did make it to the Jamboree, which was held at Lake Farragut, Idaho. This is where Dad had gone to boot camp for the Navy.]
One summer in Illinois, we had a big project of selling light bulbs to get money for Weldon to go to the Boy Scout National Jamboree.
It seems like we covered the whole town of Carbondale and some of the outside towns as we went door-to-door selling the lights.
Dad, Mom, Sara, and Connie all took turns driving us around while Weldon, Billy and Charlie went around to the houses asking people if they would like to buy some bulbs. One time when Connie was driving, she backed into a parked car. The car she ran into had been wrecked before. The owner of the car was trying to blame all of the damage on Connie. I remember Aunt Audrey arguing with the owner of the car and the police about trying to blame all the damage on Connie’s wreck. I think Aunt Audrey finally convinced the policeman that the owner of the car was lying.
[I remember the experience of going door-to-door, and we did cover almost all of town. Many places we went were rural, with big dogs. I was chased more than once by dogs, and developed a fear of big dogs as a result of this. It seems if you show fear to a dog he is more prone to chase you, so I had a hard time. Also at one point the car tire rolled over my foot as we were selling bulbs. It didn’t do any real damage but left some bruises. This was not the most fun experience of my youth. However Weldon did make it to the Jamboree, which was held at Lake Farragut, Idaho. This is where Dad had gone to boot camp for the Navy.]
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Irrigation Ditches by: Charlie Wardle
The Irrigation Ditches by: Charlie Wardle
Our farm had a lot of dirt irrigation ditches that were always caving in. My dad eventually had concrete ditches put in.
The next two stories are about events that happened around the ditches. They are told by my mother.
One day, my dad had the whole family out irrigating when one of the big ditches caved in. To stop the water from escaping, he grabbed some of the kids and stuck them in the ditch where the ditch had caved in. He then put dirt around the kids to stop the water from leaking out. The kids had to stay there and form a men-made dam until Dad was done irrigating.
[This story is known as the day Connie saved Weldon’s life.]
The next story happened when we had our concrete ditches.
One day, Weldon and Connie were pulling some weeds out of the culvert. (A culvert is a place where the water goes underground.) As Weldon was reaching for a weed, he fell into the water and started going underground. Connie grabbed him by his foot and held on with all the strength she had. Connie yelled for Dad to come help. She was able to hold on until Dad got there to pull Weldon out.
Our farm had a lot of dirt irrigation ditches that were always caving in. My dad eventually had concrete ditches put in.
The next two stories are about events that happened around the ditches. They are told by my mother.
One day, my dad had the whole family out irrigating when one of the big ditches caved in. To stop the water from escaping, he grabbed some of the kids and stuck them in the ditch where the ditch had caved in. He then put dirt around the kids to stop the water from leaking out. The kids had to stay there and form a men-made dam until Dad was done irrigating.
[This story is known as the day Connie saved Weldon’s life.]
The next story happened when we had our concrete ditches.
One day, Weldon and Connie were pulling some weeds out of the culvert. (A culvert is a place where the water goes underground.) As Weldon was reaching for a weed, he fell into the water and started going underground. Connie grabbed him by his foot and held on with all the strength she had. Connie yelled for Dad to come help. She was able to hold on until Dad got there to pull Weldon out.
The Elevator by: Charlie Wardle
The Elevator by: Charlie Wardle
The first couple of days that we were in Carbondale, we stayed in a big sky-scraper hotel.
Connie, Weldon, Billy, Charlie and Dianna were in the love downstairs looking around in the gift shop. After awhile, we decided to go upstairs to our room. Weldon stuck Dianna on the elevator and pushed our floor number and jumped out. You could hear Dianna screaming while the door on the elevator closed. Luckily, Dad was waiting for the elevator on our floor.
[This would have been after our first year in Carbondale. We were moving from a rented house to university apartments. However the apartments were not ready on time, as they were being newly constructed. The high-rise hotels were actually on campus. I think they were used both as a hotel and as student housing. However we had to stay there a couple weeks while waiting for our apartment to be finished. Dianna would have been two years old.]
The first couple of days that we were in Carbondale, we stayed in a big sky-scraper hotel.
Connie, Weldon, Billy, Charlie and Dianna were in the love downstairs looking around in the gift shop. After awhile, we decided to go upstairs to our room. Weldon stuck Dianna on the elevator and pushed our floor number and jumped out. You could hear Dianna screaming while the door on the elevator closed. Luckily, Dad was waiting for the elevator on our floor.
[This would have been after our first year in Carbondale. We were moving from a rented house to university apartments. However the apartments were not ready on time, as they were being newly constructed. The high-rise hotels were actually on campus. I think they were used both as a hotel and as student housing. However we had to stay there a couple weeks while waiting for our apartment to be finished. Dianna would have been two years old.]
Monday, October 15, 2012
The Family Farm by: Charles Wardle
The Family Farm by: Charles Wardle
When my family gets together, we often tell stories about our farm we used to live on.
In 1953 my dad bought 300 acres of land in Othello, Washington to start his farm. When my mom and dad moved there, there was nothing but open land covered with sagebrush. With no buildings or anything, they started out just like the pioneers did.
My mom and dad had two kids when they moved to the farm, Sara and Connie. While they were living on the farm, they had three boys; Weldon, Billy and Charlie. A couple of years after they left the farm, they had their last child, Dianna.
Our biggest crop on the farm was potatoes. We also had corn, alfalfa, wheat, sugar beets, and a big garden. I know we had at least one cow named buttercup, who sometimes gave us rides when dad was around. Weldon often told how he would throw rocks at buttercup to get her out of the field that he was playing ball in.
We had a lot of Mexicans working for us on the farm, probably because they would work for so little.
Our family had a lot of real good experiences, and there are some good family stories that happened on the farm.
I was two when we left the farm in 1963. I can’t remember anything about the farm, so whenever a story is told, I’m very interest in it.
When my family gets together, we often tell stories about our farm we used to live on.
In 1953 my dad bought 300 acres of land in Othello, Washington to start his farm. When my mom and dad moved there, there was nothing but open land covered with sagebrush. With no buildings or anything, they started out just like the pioneers did.
My mom and dad had two kids when they moved to the farm, Sara and Connie. While they were living on the farm, they had three boys; Weldon, Billy and Charlie. A couple of years after they left the farm, they had their last child, Dianna.
Our biggest crop on the farm was potatoes. We also had corn, alfalfa, wheat, sugar beets, and a big garden. I know we had at least one cow named buttercup, who sometimes gave us rides when dad was around. Weldon often told how he would throw rocks at buttercup to get her out of the field that he was playing ball in.
We had a lot of Mexicans working for us on the farm, probably because they would work for so little.
Our family had a lot of real good experiences, and there are some good family stories that happened on the farm.
I was two when we left the farm in 1963. I can’t remember anything about the farm, so whenever a story is told, I’m very interest in it.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Moving Experience by: Charlie Wardle
Moving [Packing] Experience by Charlie Wardle
There’s one moving experience that happened when we had everything loaded and were about ready to leave. [This is Utah to Illinois.] I grabbed Dale’s key (Dale was a friend of Sara’s) [Dale Nelson was Sara’s boyfriend before we moved] out of his truck and threw them into the field next to our house. The worse thing about it was that we couldn’t find them. We had to “hot wire” the truck so Dale could take a load of furniture to the Deseret Industries for us.
I remember that Dad gave me a big spanking for losing Dale’s keys.
There’s one moving experience that happened when we had everything loaded and were about ready to leave. [This is Utah to Illinois.] I grabbed Dale’s key (Dale was a friend of Sara’s) [Dale Nelson was Sara’s boyfriend before we moved] out of his truck and threw them into the field next to our house. The worse thing about it was that we couldn’t find them. We had to “hot wire” the truck so Dale could take a load of furniture to the Deseret Industries for us.
I remember that Dad gave me a big spanking for losing Dale’s keys.
A Moving Experience by: Connie Fornoff
A Moving Experience by: Connie Fornoff
Our family made a move my sophomore year of school from Utah to Illinois. We were all in the car with my dad towing a U-Haul behind the pick-up he was driving. We were crowded and after a few hundred miles, the trip became very boring. My brother and I kept asking my dad if we could get in the U-Haul trailer and ride. He said we really shouldn’t because it was against the law. But after a few hundred more miles he could take us no longer and let us get in the trailer. We took the cat with us. The three of us got up on the top of a mattress. We laid there and talked. We really enjoyed ourselves, traveling with the furniture, boxes, dishes and what not. Dad must have enjoyed us gone as well because he let us stay there for quite awhile. Once when he topped for gas he even opened the door and threw us in a couple of packages of Twinkies.
Our family made a move my sophomore year of school from Utah to Illinois. We were all in the car with my dad towing a U-Haul behind the pick-up he was driving. We were crowded and after a few hundred miles, the trip became very boring. My brother and I kept asking my dad if we could get in the U-Haul trailer and ride. He said we really shouldn’t because it was against the law. But after a few hundred more miles he could take us no longer and let us get in the trailer. We took the cat with us. The three of us got up on the top of a mattress. We laid there and talked. We really enjoyed ourselves, traveling with the furniture, boxes, dishes and what not. Dad must have enjoyed us gone as well because he let us stay there for quite awhile. Once when he topped for gas he even opened the door and threw us in a couple of packages of Twinkies.
Friday, October 12, 2012
The Big Move by: Ileen Wardle
The Big Move by : Mother
After graduating from the University of Denver with a Master’s Degree in Library Science my husband, Jim, returned to our home in Hyrum, Utah where we had been living for the last three years. Jim proudly announced we would be moving to Carbondale, Illinois where he would be a cataloger at the University of Illinois Library. My first reaction is where is Carbondale? He gathered all the family together, got out the Atlas and showed us a map of the State of Illinois; Carbondale was at the southern tip of Illinois. Everyone exclaimed, “It is so far away—halfway across the United States.” We were all glad that Jim had a new job, but hated to leave our beautiful home and many friends.
The day of the big move came on the 28th of August 1967. “Boy,” what a lot of work; we had so much stuff to move—things to sort and throw away—trips to the Deseret Industries. A moving van came and loaded up all the furniture, but we also had a wagon full, the back of the pick-up and the car. I drove the car with sixteen year old Sara, fourteen year old Connie and 18 month old Dianna. We also had with us our Siamese cat Fifi. Jim drove the pick-up with the wagon behind him. He had with him, eleven year old Weldon, nine year old Bill, six year old Charles and the dog.
After going through Denver, I began to get a sick feeling as we were leaving behind the beautiful mountains. We seemed to travel for miles and miles. We started through Kansas as the sun was coming up in the morning and were just leaving the state of Kansas as the sun was going down. The children were very restless all through Kansas as all they could see was farm land and windmills. They made a game out of who could count the most windmills.
When we arrived in St. Louis, Missouri we took a wrong road and ended up on the east side where all the colored people lived. We were all very scared as this was a different color of people than we were used to seeing. All the homes and buildings were so run down and poor looking. We were still 120 miles from Carbondale. We were three days and two nights on the road.
Carbondale was a beautiful place; the trees were so green and moss was growing up the trunks. Squirrels would run from one tree to another and were everywhere. The humidity was very high and something we were not used to. We all felt so sticky and hot. My hair and the girls wouldn’t hold a curl so we all had our hair cut short.
You never needed to water your lawns or gardens because of the high humidity and when it rained it really poured. The most beautiful time of all in Carbondale was in the spring when the red bud and dogwood trees would all com in bloom, with their beautiful red and white blossoms.
It was a new adjustment for all of us. The children met colored boys and girls in their schools for the first time and it was frightening for them and we were there at the time of the civil rights movement.
We were in Carbondale for two years and when it was time to leave we left many choice people and were all grateful for the choice time we had while we were in Carbondale.
After graduating from the University of Denver with a Master’s Degree in Library Science my husband, Jim, returned to our home in Hyrum, Utah where we had been living for the last three years. Jim proudly announced we would be moving to Carbondale, Illinois where he would be a cataloger at the University of Illinois Library. My first reaction is where is Carbondale? He gathered all the family together, got out the Atlas and showed us a map of the State of Illinois; Carbondale was at the southern tip of Illinois. Everyone exclaimed, “It is so far away—halfway across the United States.” We were all glad that Jim had a new job, but hated to leave our beautiful home and many friends.
The day of the big move came on the 28th of August 1967. “Boy,” what a lot of work; we had so much stuff to move—things to sort and throw away—trips to the Deseret Industries. A moving van came and loaded up all the furniture, but we also had a wagon full, the back of the pick-up and the car. I drove the car with sixteen year old Sara, fourteen year old Connie and 18 month old Dianna. We also had with us our Siamese cat Fifi. Jim drove the pick-up with the wagon behind him. He had with him, eleven year old Weldon, nine year old Bill, six year old Charles and the dog.
After going through Denver, I began to get a sick feeling as we were leaving behind the beautiful mountains. We seemed to travel for miles and miles. We started through Kansas as the sun was coming up in the morning and were just leaving the state of Kansas as the sun was going down. The children were very restless all through Kansas as all they could see was farm land and windmills. They made a game out of who could count the most windmills.
When we arrived in St. Louis, Missouri we took a wrong road and ended up on the east side where all the colored people lived. We were all very scared as this was a different color of people than we were used to seeing. All the homes and buildings were so run down and poor looking. We were still 120 miles from Carbondale. We were three days and two nights on the road.
Carbondale was a beautiful place; the trees were so green and moss was growing up the trunks. Squirrels would run from one tree to another and were everywhere. The humidity was very high and something we were not used to. We all felt so sticky and hot. My hair and the girls wouldn’t hold a curl so we all had our hair cut short.
You never needed to water your lawns or gardens because of the high humidity and when it rained it really poured. The most beautiful time of all in Carbondale was in the spring when the red bud and dogwood trees would all com in bloom, with their beautiful red and white blossoms.
It was a new adjustment for all of us. The children met colored boys and girls in their schools for the first time and it was frightening for them and we were there at the time of the civil rights movement.
We were in Carbondale for two years and when it was time to leave we left many choice people and were all grateful for the choice time we had while we were in Carbondale.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Charlie's Blanket by: my Mom
Charlie’s Blanket by: Ileen Wardle
Charlie’s Grandma Wardle made him a baby blanket for his crib right after he was born. It was blue with little blocks of white lambs. Charlie really loved this blanket and it had one special corner that he liked the feel of. You would hand him his blanket and he would turn it around until he found his special cornet. Then he would rub it with his left hand and suck his thumb on his right hand. It was always a rough day for Charlie when we needed to wash his blanket. He would stand in front of the washer and dryer until his blanket was dried. I guess he was afraid someone would take away his security. Charlie was over three years old when he finally gave the poor worn out blanket a rest. I put it away and when we moved from the farm to Utah, I packed it with some of Jim’s navy uniforms. When he was in the ninth grade he happened to find it. You would have thought he had found his best friend again.
Charlie’s Grandma Wardle made him a baby blanket for his crib right after he was born. It was blue with little blocks of white lambs. Charlie really loved this blanket and it had one special corner that he liked the feel of. You would hand him his blanket and he would turn it around until he found his special cornet. Then he would rub it with his left hand and suck his thumb on his right hand. It was always a rough day for Charlie when we needed to wash his blanket. He would stand in front of the washer and dryer until his blanket was dried. I guess he was afraid someone would take away his security. Charlie was over three years old when he finally gave the poor worn out blanket a rest. I put it away and when we moved from the farm to Utah, I packed it with some of Jim’s navy uniforms. When he was in the ninth grade he happened to find it. You would have thought he had found his best friend again.
Water The Flowers by: Charlie Wardle
Water the Flowers by: Charlie Wardle
On the farm, a lot of times when you were out in the field and had to go to the toilet, you didn’t have time to run all the way back to the house to go. I guess this is one of the ways I got potty trained.
One day after church, as we were walking outside, I had to go to the toilet. Seeing the flowers outside I walked over to them and pulled down my pants and started watering the flowers.
As everyone came out of Church, they had a nice sight of a boy watering the flowers. When Mom saw this she turned about four shades of red. Dad came out of the church and noticed everyone watching me and said, “At least he’s potty trained.”
On the farm, a lot of times when you were out in the field and had to go to the toilet, you didn’t have time to run all the way back to the house to go. I guess this is one of the ways I got potty trained.
One day after church, as we were walking outside, I had to go to the toilet. Seeing the flowers outside I walked over to them and pulled down my pants and started watering the flowers.
As everyone came out of Church, they had a nice sight of a boy watering the flowers. When Mom saw this she turned about four shades of red. Dad came out of the church and noticed everyone watching me and said, “At least he’s potty trained.”
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
The Black Boy, My History with Blackface
The Black Boy told by Ileen Wardle
At the farm the kids would often get into things and make a mess of them. This story is about Weldon. When he was six he tried to change the color of Billy’s skin who was three at the time.
This story was told to me by my mother:
Dad had just finished changing the oil in the tractor, and left the bucket of drained oil in his shop. Weldon, his friend and Billy were playing around in Dad’s shop, and found the bucket of oil. Weldon and his friend got a couple of paint brushes, and began to paint Billy with the oil from his head to his feet. No one knows why Billy just stood there and let them do it.
When I [mother] saw Billy he looked just like a colored boy; with his black hair and face; he was black everywhere. I had to throw his clothes away, and use comet on him to get the oil off.
At the farm the kids would often get into things and make a mess of them. This story is about Weldon. When he was six he tried to change the color of Billy’s skin who was three at the time.
This story was told to me by my mother:
Dad had just finished changing the oil in the tractor, and left the bucket of drained oil in his shop. Weldon, his friend and Billy were playing around in Dad’s shop, and found the bucket of oil. Weldon and his friend got a couple of paint brushes, and began to paint Billy with the oil from his head to his feet. No one knows why Billy just stood there and let them do it.
When I [mother] saw Billy he looked just like a colored boy; with his black hair and face; he was black everywhere. I had to throw his clothes away, and use comet on him to get the oil off.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Lost Dianna by: Dianna
Lost Dianna by: Dianna Norman From Childhood Experiences of the Wardle Family, editor Charlie Wardle
When I was five years old my family and my sister’s family went to Soda Springs, Idaho to watch my brother Bill play in a Pony League Tournament.
I was very restless watching the game and so I took my nephew, Buffie, and we went to a little park to swing. I came back just as the game was over and went to get in the car with my sister and family; but she told me I couldn’t ride back to Hyrum with them and I was to wait for my folks. I decided I would go back and play on the swings while I was waiting and when I came back I looked everywhere for my folks and couldn’t find them. I started to cry and some older girls came and asked me what was the matter. I told them I couldn’t find my mother and dad. They took hold of my hand and told me not to cry and took me to the police station. The policeman had me get in the police car with me and we drove around Soda Springs looking for my folks. I finally recognized someone from Hyrum (The Lundbergs). They told the policeman they would take me home after we had dinner. I really was glad to have someone take me home but I felt dumb because I didn’t have any money to pay for my dinner.
When my folks got home they were really surprised because I hadn’t come with my sister and family. They called to the police in Soda Springs and they told them they had found me and the Lundbergs were bringing me home. I was so frightened and I never went wondering off again without letting my parents know where I was going.
When I was five years old my family and my sister’s family went to Soda Springs, Idaho to watch my brother Bill play in a Pony League Tournament.
I was very restless watching the game and so I took my nephew, Buffie, and we went to a little park to swing. I came back just as the game was over and went to get in the car with my sister and family; but she told me I couldn’t ride back to Hyrum with them and I was to wait for my folks. I decided I would go back and play on the swings while I was waiting and when I came back I looked everywhere for my folks and couldn’t find them. I started to cry and some older girls came and asked me what was the matter. I told them I couldn’t find my mother and dad. They took hold of my hand and told me not to cry and took me to the police station. The policeman had me get in the police car with me and we drove around Soda Springs looking for my folks. I finally recognized someone from Hyrum (The Lundbergs). They told the policeman they would take me home after we had dinner. I really was glad to have someone take me home but I felt dumb because I didn’t have any money to pay for my dinner.
When my folks got home they were really surprised because I hadn’t come with my sister and family. They called to the police in Soda Springs and they told them they had found me and the Lundbergs were bringing me home. I was so frightened and I never went wondering off again without letting my parents know where I was going.
Sail Boating by: Charlie Wardle
 | |
| Crab Orchard Lake |
One Saturday, one of Dad’s friends from the University [Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, Ill] took us boys and Dad sailing.
It was a lot of fun and the boat went pretty fast along the water.
After we were out for about an hour, we stopped to eat lunch. After lunch I told Dad that Ididn’t want to go back out, and that I just wanted to play along the beach. Dad made Bill stay with me to watch over me. Billy was pretty upset about this.
They went back out in the boat. They were out there quite far and the boat tipped over. A guy in a row boat had to row out there from the shore to help them. Everyone was alright. I was really glad that I didn’t go out with them, because I couldn’t swim at that time.
Billy’s addition: I don’t remember being mad, but I remember getting pretty bored because it took them forever to get back. At first there were things to keep my interest along the shore, but after a few hours there wasn’t much new to do. I don’t remember if I had much sense of what was going on, other than thinking maybe they tipped over. I have the idea that they had to hold onto the boat until they could get help to get it righted. I know I had bad dreams about holding onto a boat waiting for someone to save me for a while. Weldon would be able to give more insight on that because he went with them.
Mother Keeping Track of Her Kids
Living on a big farm, a mother had a hard time keeping track of her kids. The next two stories are about mother trying to keep track of her kids. These stories are told by my mother.
One day, Billy came up missing. I looked everywhere for him for hours and couldn’t find him. Usually when Billy was missing, you could find him in the strawberry patch, but he wasn’t there.
I found Jim, my husband, and told him that Billy was missing. He got some of the hired hands and we all went looking for Billy. My biggest worry was that he might have fallen in the canal. After looking for him for awhile we found him fast asleep in the corn patch.
my version of the same story
http://whilhelmsthoughts.blogspot.com/2011/01/othello-make-believe-home.html
There was a time when Sara and Connie came up missing. After looking for them for awhile I found them in the machine shed watching a mother cat have her kittens. The must have been there for hours.
I was so embarrassed when I saw this and they had so many questions about where those kitten were coming from. I really had to do some fast explain about birth.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Connie Driving the Truck
This is taken from a series of stories Charlie put together
Connie Driving the Truck
This story happened when Connie was ten and Weldon about seven years old.
Connie was always a very daring type of person who thought that she could do most anything. I guess that is probably why she felt that since she could drive a tractor she should be able to drive a truck.
This story is written by Connie herself.
As I grew up being a farmer’s daughter, I naturally knew how to drive a tractor at a very young age. I was always intrigued with the cars and trucks on the farm, and I couldn’t understand why my dad limited my driving to the tractors only.
One day I and my brother for one reason or another were the only ones home. I asked my brother Weldon, “How would you like a ride around the house in the old red pick-up?” He questioned my ability to drive, and I assured him there was no worry. So we both hopped in. I started it up and off we went. We missed the house by two feet, and a tree by two inches; and I never understood why the truck wouldn’t turn onto the road I wanted it to, and we ended up stuck in a pile of dirt. Worse of all I couldn’t get the truck started again to put it back where I found it so my dad wouldn’t now about any troubles. As I remember, he wasn’t too mad. He just reminded me that he had told me there is a difference between driving a tractor and a truck.
My addition: I remember being home, but not being in the truck at the time. I think Sara was home and she and Connie were babysitting us. Our farm house was situated with a gravel and dirt road all the way around it. To the North there was a patch of grass between the house and the road, and beyond that a canal with a patch of sandy soil before the bank of the canal. It was into this no-man's land that Connie landed the truck. That old red pick-up was always hard to start, and always made a terrific noise when being started. It sounded like nothing else I have ever heard. The closest is perhaps when the belt goes out of a dryer. I just remember hearing that noise and thinking, as she tried to restart the pick-up, "Oh, Oh, Connie is going to be in so much trouble."
Connie Driving the Truck
This story happened when Connie was ten and Weldon about seven years old.
Connie was always a very daring type of person who thought that she could do most anything. I guess that is probably why she felt that since she could drive a tractor she should be able to drive a truck.
This story is written by Connie herself.
As I grew up being a farmer’s daughter, I naturally knew how to drive a tractor at a very young age. I was always intrigued with the cars and trucks on the farm, and I couldn’t understand why my dad limited my driving to the tractors only.
One day I and my brother for one reason or another were the only ones home. I asked my brother Weldon, “How would you like a ride around the house in the old red pick-up?” He questioned my ability to drive, and I assured him there was no worry. So we both hopped in. I started it up and off we went. We missed the house by two feet, and a tree by two inches; and I never understood why the truck wouldn’t turn onto the road I wanted it to, and we ended up stuck in a pile of dirt. Worse of all I couldn’t get the truck started again to put it back where I found it so my dad wouldn’t now about any troubles. As I remember, he wasn’t too mad. He just reminded me that he had told me there is a difference between driving a tractor and a truck.
My addition: I remember being home, but not being in the truck at the time. I think Sara was home and she and Connie were babysitting us. Our farm house was situated with a gravel and dirt road all the way around it. To the North there was a patch of grass between the house and the road, and beyond that a canal with a patch of sandy soil before the bank of the canal. It was into this no-man's land that Connie landed the truck. That old red pick-up was always hard to start, and always made a terrific noise when being started. It sounded like nothing else I have ever heard. The closest is perhaps when the belt goes out of a dryer. I just remember hearing that noise and thinking, as she tried to restart the pick-up, "Oh, Oh, Connie is going to be in so much trouble."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)