I waited to write this missive until today for a very special reason. I'll tell you later...
I finished up my series of genealogy classes last week and said good-bye to a great group of people. I just fell in love with them, for they are from a small town, and I LOVE small-town America. I wished them all luck in their research.
A few days later came my favorite day of the year!! I LOVE Thanksgiving!!! I love the feelings, the smells, the wonderful aromas drifting from the kitchen, the feeling of wanting to return home. Sometimes I wish I could return to my mom and dad's home just for a little bit.
We rode up to sister Ferne's place with Jean and Earl. It just makes more sense to all travel together when we're going to the same place. I wasn't feeling particularly well that day - it all goes back to the bowel obstruction I had a couple of years ago. I did the best I could to keep a chipper face, for I didn't want to be a downer. I didn't really care how I felt. I was just so thankful to be with family - and that I have a family to be with.
The next day at the temple was another one of the busiest ever. The day after Thanksgiving typically is. I'm so glad I wasn't out with the shoppers who braved the crowds on Black Friday. I used to do that with all of my kids, but no more.
And now for the reason I am writing this a day late:
It was 29 years ago today that Kerry and I were holding a sweet baby girl in our arms.
Peter was 2 1/2 years old, and we were ready for another baby. From the very beginning, we knew this baby would be a girl. Don't ask me how - we just knew. So, on the evening of 28 Nov 1981, the nesting urges began and I was washing the clothes and cleaning the house. Bob and Linda Rivers came to pick up Peter, and Kerry took me to the hospital about 9:00 pm.
It was to be a long night. A very, very long night. The pain was the worst I had ever felt, and would ever feel. Due to some complications, they could give me no epidural or pain medications of any kind. I can remember the doctor saying, "We're losing them both..."
We both survived. She was my only child born with hair, yet they had to shave part of her pretty little brown hair off to give her vitamin K.
She played baby Jesus in our church's Christmas play that year. While "Mary" was singing a lullaby to her, she sneezed in Mary's face.
We didn't have much money that year for Christmas, but there is one memory that will always stay in my mind. I had fed her and bundled her up in her little sleeper and blanket and placed her under the Christmas tree. She laid there so sweetly looking up at the lights. Soon, Peter came over and laid beside her. He began talking to her and stroking her little hands and face. I sat there with tears in my eyes as I thought about how rich Kerry and I were.
Now, Mr. Kerry is on his way to Oregon to bring her home. So, once more we will welcome sweet Harmony into our home again. She's been away for a number of years - in the Army, out of the Army, in Hawaii, in Oregon... But now, it's time to come home and recharge for a bit.
And, it's okay. Come on home...
Harmony on her first day of life. I was 26 years old.
Harmony at 3 months
Peter and Harmony, when he realized she was here to stay
Harmony at just about a year
She and Peter all dressed up to go to church
What a happy little baby girl
Harmony at about 3 years old
She liked cats - they didn't always like her
Kerry and Harmony on the day he baptized her at age 8
She traveled all over the country with us
This is my all-time favorite picture of Harmony. We had lots of campouts and cookouts in our back field. Sister Jean had given us some day-old donuts, so Harmony put one on a stick and roasted it. It was actually pretty good...
A happy-go-lucky girl...
She and Peter used to sing together
She was named after her Aunt Harmony, Kerry's youngest sister
Harmony at graduation
She was in the cast in the Hill Cumorah Pageant
She served her country
Come on home, Harmony. Your room is ready and your warm bed with flannel sheets is waiting for you...
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
So many reasons...
Oh, yes. I have so many reasons to be thankful this week.
Sometimes when I really stop and think about all I have to be thankful for, I get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. My blessings abound.
I am grateful that I have a reasonable about of knowledge stored in my brain. I try to keep myself fresh and learning on a daily basis. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes it doesn't. This past week, I began a series of genealogy classes at a local library in a small town close by. I'm grateful that people think I may have something to offer.
I'm grateful for the musical talent I possess, and hope that it has enhanced the lives of the people around me. For the past couple of weeks, I worked closely with others in our ward that are talented, and they assisted me in the music for today's services. People were spellbound. Some even mentioned they could have just listened to the music the whole time and nothing else! I'm grate for music and what it has meant to me in my life.
I am grateful for the church that has been a part of my life all of my life. The teachings of the gospel have helped get me through some of the toughest things I thought I would never have to face. Those teachings gave me hope. They gave me strength.
I am even grateful for little Mr. Eddie. He is a little protector of our home. He has his place here. This past week, one of my dearest friends that I've known since I was six years old was robbed. Her dog was put down last week. She was robbed this week. They ransacked her home, and stole her mother's gold jewelry and her father's coins - both of whom are deceased. My heart has just ached for her all week. I wondered what I would do. If I were here, Mr. Eddie would probably alert me, for he even despises Mr. Brown (the UPS man). If I weren't here, he may die trying to protect his domain. He's little - only 8 lbs. But, he's a joy and a comfort to us - and a bit of an assurance to us. Our little protector...
I am grateful for each of you that receives this email. Sometimes I wonder why I still do it. But, each of you has meant something to me, or you wouldn't be included on the list. Forgive me if I get long-winded or preachy. But...you all know where 'DELETE' is.
I am grateful for computers and technology that allows each of us to keep in contact with each other. I have been able to rejoice as I hear about the good news in your lives, mourn when the news is sad, and reach out when a pat on the back is needed.
But most of all, I am thankful for this Thanksgiving holiday. It is perhaps the one holiday that all of us can agree on in commonality. What one of us is not bowing our head in thanks as we look around us at what could be? This holiday is my favorite holiday. We have the opportunity to pause and remember the great blessings in our lives - our families, our children, our grandchildren, our spouses, our parents, our health, our homes...oh, I could make a list that would never, ever end.
God bless you all this Thanksgiving week.
And now, for my memory of the week...
I was six years old, and I was lost.
Quite often, my parents and sometimes my sisters would travel to Palmyra, New York to view the Hill Cumorah Pageant. It is the one of the largest outdoor pageants in America, and quite possibly the world, with a cast of 700. Nightly attendance averages 10,000 and more. Our family had the opportunity to be in the cast on several occasions. It was one of the highlights of our lives.
When I was about six, my parents and I were there with sister Ferne. I can't remember if any other of my sisters were there or not. I just know that we had been sitting in our seats for a long time and were waiting for the time when the pageant would begin.
Since I was young and a bit squirrelly, I was hopping up and down and trying to convince my mom that I needed to go to the bathroom. She was hesitant, for she really didn't want to leave her seat. Ferne said to just go ahead and let me go, and told me the exact route to take up through all of the people to get to the restrooms. It really wasn't very complicated. But, I was six.
I came back out, looked around and couldn't remember the route. It was really just a straight walk down an aisle, but I was six.
I began to cry. There was a light rain that was threatening us. I had on a blue and red plaid raincoat. As more time went by, I began to get terrified. I saw a sea of faces and knew I'd never see my mom again!
I cried more. Soon, a man picked me up and dried my eyes and helped me blow my nose. He had me stand on one of the benches and helped me look out over the crowd.
I soon spotted my mom!!! She had begun to worry and was going up and down the aisles looking for me. When she saw me standing on that bench, she pushed through the crowd, thanked the man, and held my hand tightly back to our seats.
I felt so safe and secure. Relief just swept over me. Mom later told me I looked so forlorn when she saw me - and I was just as cold and blue as the blue in my raincoat.
Peggy at six years old.
I guess as a result of that experience, I worried that the same thing would happen when I began to have my own little family. I thought the best way to help prevent this was to have something identifiable on us so that we could see each other better. Shirts were the best idea.
My good friend, Waunita, told me that when she and her husband took their boys to Sea World, they did that very thing. Except - there were lots of school children there that day and they all had the same color of shirts on!
So, when we went to Disneyland, I had all of us wear red shirts. Sure enough, there was a sea of red shirts there that day! But, there was one man in a yellow t-shirt that I could spot anywhere in the park. (Yellow stands out particularly well for our eyes. That's why we have black on yellow for our "warning" road signs - Merge, Railroad, etc.)
Also, when we dressed alike, not only was it easier to spot my kids, but it was easy for them to spot us, too! They could tell a cop or an information person or a store clerk exactly what their parents were wearing...
I might add that we don't all dress alike now. They're on their own.
Sometimes when I really stop and think about all I have to be thankful for, I get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. My blessings abound.
I am grateful that I have a reasonable about of knowledge stored in my brain. I try to keep myself fresh and learning on a daily basis. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes it doesn't. This past week, I began a series of genealogy classes at a local library in a small town close by. I'm grateful that people think I may have something to offer.
I'm grateful for the musical talent I possess, and hope that it has enhanced the lives of the people around me. For the past couple of weeks, I worked closely with others in our ward that are talented, and they assisted me in the music for today's services. People were spellbound. Some even mentioned they could have just listened to the music the whole time and nothing else! I'm grate for music and what it has meant to me in my life.
I am grateful for the church that has been a part of my life all of my life. The teachings of the gospel have helped get me through some of the toughest things I thought I would never have to face. Those teachings gave me hope. They gave me strength.
I am even grateful for little Mr. Eddie. He is a little protector of our home. He has his place here. This past week, one of my dearest friends that I've known since I was six years old was robbed. Her dog was put down last week. She was robbed this week. They ransacked her home, and stole her mother's gold jewelry and her father's coins - both of whom are deceased. My heart has just ached for her all week. I wondered what I would do. If I were here, Mr. Eddie would probably alert me, for he even despises Mr. Brown (the UPS man). If I weren't here, he may die trying to protect his domain. He's little - only 8 lbs. But, he's a joy and a comfort to us - and a bit of an assurance to us. Our little protector...
I am grateful for each of you that receives this email. Sometimes I wonder why I still do it. But, each of you has meant something to me, or you wouldn't be included on the list. Forgive me if I get long-winded or preachy. But...you all know where 'DELETE' is.
I am grateful for computers and technology that allows each of us to keep in contact with each other. I have been able to rejoice as I hear about the good news in your lives, mourn when the news is sad, and reach out when a pat on the back is needed.
But most of all, I am thankful for this Thanksgiving holiday. It is perhaps the one holiday that all of us can agree on in commonality. What one of us is not bowing our head in thanks as we look around us at what could be? This holiday is my favorite holiday. We have the opportunity to pause and remember the great blessings in our lives - our families, our children, our grandchildren, our spouses, our parents, our health, our homes...oh, I could make a list that would never, ever end.
God bless you all this Thanksgiving week.
And now, for my memory of the week...
I was six years old, and I was lost.
Quite often, my parents and sometimes my sisters would travel to Palmyra, New York to view the Hill Cumorah Pageant. It is the one of the largest outdoor pageants in America, and quite possibly the world, with a cast of 700. Nightly attendance averages 10,000 and more. Our family had the opportunity to be in the cast on several occasions. It was one of the highlights of our lives.
When I was about six, my parents and I were there with sister Ferne. I can't remember if any other of my sisters were there or not. I just know that we had been sitting in our seats for a long time and were waiting for the time when the pageant would begin.
Since I was young and a bit squirrelly, I was hopping up and down and trying to convince my mom that I needed to go to the bathroom. She was hesitant, for she really didn't want to leave her seat. Ferne said to just go ahead and let me go, and told me the exact route to take up through all of the people to get to the restrooms. It really wasn't very complicated. But, I was six.
I came back out, looked around and couldn't remember the route. It was really just a straight walk down an aisle, but I was six.
I began to cry. There was a light rain that was threatening us. I had on a blue and red plaid raincoat. As more time went by, I began to get terrified. I saw a sea of faces and knew I'd never see my mom again!
I cried more. Soon, a man picked me up and dried my eyes and helped me blow my nose. He had me stand on one of the benches and helped me look out over the crowd.
I soon spotted my mom!!! She had begun to worry and was going up and down the aisles looking for me. When she saw me standing on that bench, she pushed through the crowd, thanked the man, and held my hand tightly back to our seats.
I felt so safe and secure. Relief just swept over me. Mom later told me I looked so forlorn when she saw me - and I was just as cold and blue as the blue in my raincoat.
Peggy at six years old.
I guess as a result of that experience, I worried that the same thing would happen when I began to have my own little family. I thought the best way to help prevent this was to have something identifiable on us so that we could see each other better. Shirts were the best idea.
My good friend, Waunita, told me that when she and her husband took their boys to Sea World, they did that very thing. Except - there were lots of school children there that day and they all had the same color of shirts on!
So, when we went to Disneyland, I had all of us wear red shirts. Sure enough, there was a sea of red shirts there that day! But, there was one man in a yellow t-shirt that I could spot anywhere in the park. (Yellow stands out particularly well for our eyes. That's why we have black on yellow for our "warning" road signs - Merge, Railroad, etc.)
Also, when we dressed alike, not only was it easier to spot my kids, but it was easy for them to spot us, too! They could tell a cop or an information person or a store clerk exactly what their parents were wearing...
I might add that we don't all dress alike now. They're on their own.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The home of the brave...
This has been a week to be thankful that we live in America. How privileged we are to be able to worship, to speak and to vote as we feel is the right way. And, what a blessing to be living here. I was fortunate to be born here, as well. I have been blessed richly.
Kerry and I did our patriotic duty by voting, then enjoyed the rest of a busy week. We ran quite a few errands this week, I worked with some people on music for the holidays, and we kicked back and relaxed a few days, too. It was very, very cold on some days, but this week we will be experiencing Indian summer. They call it Indian summer because the pioneers and early settlers would spent the end of summer and early fall preparing for the coming winter. They gathered up foodstores and made clothing that would keep them warm. Then, after a killing frost or a hoar frost, there would usually be one more short gap of warm weather. That's when the Indians would play out their last attacks on the settlers - hence, Indian summer.
Aren't I smart? Well, it appears that way...
Again, I have been surprised by the number of people commenting on the little historical missives I have been putting at the end of my missives. Last week's adventure of a young Kerry in the bathtub seemed to strike a resonance. I am saving all of these and putting them into a separate file. Perhaps someone will want them compiled someday. Who knows?
However, this week's historical missive is one that has been printed before. And, I will print it again and again, for it is near and dear to my heart. It is long. It is my salute to the veterans in my family, whose special holiday we will all celebrate this Thursday. If you know of any that I have left out, PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know. They deserve to be remembered...
I am the descendant, the mother, the sister-in-law and the relative of many, many good men and women who served our country. The older I get, the more I come to appreciate the great sacrifice they were willing to make to make and keep our country safe. Some joined in times of war. Some joined in times of peace, but were ready to defend in case of war. Here is my salute to them:
Chester Clemens - my father, who served at Pearl Harbor in WWII
Orson Lauritzen - Kerry's father, who served on a ship near Japan in WWII
Harmony and Jordan - my two middle children who served in the Army
Erik - our youngest son who served in the Army
Kerry's brother, Bill, who was killed in a Jeep accident in Germany at age 19
Kerry's brother, Steve - who served in Viet Nam
Kerry's brothers, Kelly - Lt. Col. in the Army (w/wife, Marion) and Chris - Col. in the Air Force
Kerry's sister, Charm - who I believed served in the Army (or National Guard?)
Paul, who is the son of Kerry's brother, Chris
Brendan, who is the son of Kerry's brother, Chris
Pete - husband of sister, Betty, who served in the Air Force
'
Jim, husband of sister Ferne, who served in the Navy
Jack Monihan - Kerry's uncle, married to Orson's sister, Olive
Vaughn Kent Lauritzen - brother of Kerry's father, Orson
Wilson Lauritzen - brother of Kerry's father, Orson
This is a true story published that happened to my Dad in World War II as related by the Prophet Spencer W. Kimball. (related by Lita Lauritzen Burton)
Priesthood Power
"Priesthood nor its power knows the limitations of national boundaries. This was demonstrated many times in the conflict known as World War II. This is the story from the lips of Wilson P. Lauritzen:
We were fighting in the 'Battle of the Bulge' near the town of Ammonius, Belgium. By that time the Germans were on the defensive. We had just succeeded in cutting off or surrounding a sector of the German line. They were surrendering in large numbers. As we were disarming the soldiers, one of them said to me in broken English: 'Would you know if there are any Mormon soldiers in your unit?' I replied, 'Yes, I am a Mormon.' He asked, 'Do you hold the Priesthood?' 'Yes, I do,' I answered. 'I was married in the temple.' 'Would you be so kind as to come with me to that shell hole over there and administer to my buddy? He is pretty well shaken up, and pretty badly wounded.' Of course I consented to go. We found that his buddy was in a bad condition and was suffering much pain. Then the two of us, who a few short hours before had been on opposite sides in the bitter struggle, knelt down and administered to the wounded lad. And as we did so, I felt the spirit of the Lord very strongly. I know that that feeling was shared by them, too. As we finished, the litter-bearers were there. We lifted the broken body to the stretcher. Then our ways parted: the wounded boy was taken to the hospital; the German solder was sent back with other prisoners, and I went on with my other duties."
By Spencer W. Kimball Story Teller's Scrapbook Compiled by Albert L. Zobell
Richard Stevens - youngest brother of my mom, Ida Stevens Clemens
Thearl Stevens and wife Bertha - favorite brother of my mom, Ida
Thomas Clemens - son of my dad's oldest brother, Russell
Charles Clemens - my dad's brother
Edd Walker - granduncle of my dad, Chester Clemens
Will Walker - son of the above Edd Walker
Levi Wheeler Cline - one of my grandfathers in the Civil War
Dr. Thomas Walker - an early American explorer who we "may" connect as a shirttail relative
Robert H Stephens - one of my grandfathers who was in the Civil War
John Mullins - another one of my grandfathers
Oh, there are many, many more whose pictures I don't have, but commemorate this missive to their memory, anyway. I have found wonderful stories about them, and will include a couple of those.
!HAMMAN, PHIL. On Saturday, July 3, 1830, the fifty-fifth anniversary of American independence was celebrated at Bellefonte, Jackson Co, AL, at which among other participants were several Revolutionary patriots. After the reading of the Declaration of Independence by Henry F. Scruggs and the delivery of an oration by Hon. Samuel Moore, the company sat down to a plentiful dinner. After this many patriotic toasts were drunk. Only one, and that because of the historic fact it evoked, is here produced:
"By L. James, Esq. 'Capt. Phil HAMMAN: The Savior of Greenbrier - tho' his history is but little known, his intrepidity and patriotism are not let worthy of our commendation.' After the drinking of this toast, the old soldier rose and said: He thanked the gentlemen for introducing his name on an occasion where he had already been too much honored. Tho' his history was not much known, he could not object to have the transactions of his life divulged to the world. For nine years he had been in the wars of his country - during a greater part of which he had been engaged in the most dangerous parts of Indian service. He had suffered much; on one occasion he had been stripped by savage rapacity of every vestige of property he possessed, even the clothing of himself and family - one of his children fell a victim to their cruelty. But not to dwell on the dangers he had endured, he would merely speak of the occasion so kindly alluded to in the toast. When stationed at Fort Randolph, at the mouth of the Big Kanawha, nine hundred Indians set off in a body to make an unexpected attack on the inhabitants of Greenbrier, Virginia. Two men were dispatched to apprize the people in that quarter of their approaching danger. In three days they returned, wounded, and in despair; others were sought for who would carry the express; none were found willing to engage in so dangerous and hopeless an undertaking when he and one John Pryor (who was afterwards killed by the Indians) painted and dressed in Indian garb set off, and in forty-eight hours travelled one hundred and sixty miles through the wilderness; they overtook the Indians within twelve miles of the white settlements, passed through their camps, and gave timely warning to the people of their impending danger. Such preparations were made for security and defense as the occasion permitted. About daylight a violent attack was made on Fort Donley; the conflict was desperate - the door of the Fort was broken open - he stood in it, and resisted the enemy - 'till it could be shut and fasted. The foe were repelled with great loss, and the country saved from savage barbarity. He said that although he was old and poor, and had not received the compensation promised him by his country, yet he thanked God he was in peace and safety, and could live 'without the aid of public or private charity.' He then offered the following sentiment: "OUR RULERS: May they be just men, fearing God, and hating covetousness." Southern Advocate, Huntsville, July 10, 1830.
Zachariah Johnston's beautiful home, which is on the Historical Register and is for sale for $1,750,000 (I WANT it!) was a wonderful patriot.
Johnston was a prosperous farmer by the time the American Revolution began. In 1776, he was appointed a captain in the county militia. Johnston's company actively patrolled against Indian uprisings, and, in 1781, participated in the Virginia campaign which led to Lord Cornwallis' surrender. Representing Augusta County in the House of Delegates from 1778 to 1791, Johnston was chair of the House committee on religion and helped pass the "act for establishing religious freedom" in 1786.
Zechariah JOHNSTON was a personal friend and political ally of Thomas Jefferson. His presentation of the Hanover Memorials to the Virginia Assembly and his advocating the ideas of religious freedom held by his constituents, no doubt, had very great weight with Mr. Jefferson in formulating his bill "for establishing religious freedom," which became law in 1786. Mr. Jefferson, when leaving for a federal appointment, left his bill for religious liberty in the capable hands of James Madison."Mr. Chairman, I am a Presbyterian, a rigid Presbyterian as we are called; my parents before me were of the same profession; I was educated in that line. Since I became a man, I have examined for myself; and I have seen no cause to dissent. But, sir, the very day that the Presbyterians shall be established by law, and become a body politic, the same day Zachariah JOHNSTON will be a dissenter. Dissent from that religion I cannot in honesty, but from that establishement I will." And his name goes down to posterity in favor of the passage of the act for establishing Religious Freedom.One of his famous statements:
"Mr. Chairman, I am a Presbyterian, a rigid Presbyterian as we are called; my parents before me were of the same profession; I was educated in that line. Since I became a man, I have examined for myself; and I have seen no cause to dissent. But, sir, the very day that the Presbyterians shall be established by law, and become a body politic, the same day Zachariah JOHNSTON will be a dissenter. Dissent from that religion I cannot in honesty, but from that establishement I will." And his name goes down to posterity in favor of the passage of the act for establishing Religious Freedom.
May God bless these good men and women. I honor them, and will continue to honor them by posting this missive each and every time it is appropriate. And, as a genealogist, I will continue to look for and will find many more.
Bless their good hearts!
Taken at the Arizona Memorial, Pearl Harbor, HI on our trip to see Harmony, 2005
Kerry and I did our patriotic duty by voting, then enjoyed the rest of a busy week. We ran quite a few errands this week, I worked with some people on music for the holidays, and we kicked back and relaxed a few days, too. It was very, very cold on some days, but this week we will be experiencing Indian summer. They call it Indian summer because the pioneers and early settlers would spent the end of summer and early fall preparing for the coming winter. They gathered up foodstores and made clothing that would keep them warm. Then, after a killing frost or a hoar frost, there would usually be one more short gap of warm weather. That's when the Indians would play out their last attacks on the settlers - hence, Indian summer.
Aren't I smart? Well, it appears that way...
Again, I have been surprised by the number of people commenting on the little historical missives I have been putting at the end of my missives. Last week's adventure of a young Kerry in the bathtub seemed to strike a resonance. I am saving all of these and putting them into a separate file. Perhaps someone will want them compiled someday. Who knows?
However, this week's historical missive is one that has been printed before. And, I will print it again and again, for it is near and dear to my heart. It is long. It is my salute to the veterans in my family, whose special holiday we will all celebrate this Thursday. If you know of any that I have left out, PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know. They deserve to be remembered...
I am the descendant, the mother, the sister-in-law and the relative of many, many good men and women who served our country. The older I get, the more I come to appreciate the great sacrifice they were willing to make to make and keep our country safe. Some joined in times of war. Some joined in times of peace, but were ready to defend in case of war. Here is my salute to them:
Chester Clemens - my father, who served at Pearl Harbor in WWII
Orson Lauritzen - Kerry's father, who served on a ship near Japan in WWII
Harmony and Jordan - my two middle children who served in the Army
Erik - our youngest son who served in the Army
Kerry's brother, Bill, who was killed in a Jeep accident in Germany at age 19
Kerry's brother, Steve - who served in Viet Nam
Kerry's brothers, Kelly - Lt. Col. in the Army (w/wife, Marion) and Chris - Col. in the Air Force
Kerry's sister, Charm - who I believed served in the Army (or National Guard?)
Paul, who is the son of Kerry's brother, Chris
Brendan, who is the son of Kerry's brother, Chris
Pete - husband of sister, Betty, who served in the Air Force
'
Jim, husband of sister Ferne, who served in the Navy
Jack Monihan - Kerry's uncle, married to Orson's sister, Olive
Vaughn Kent Lauritzen - brother of Kerry's father, Orson
Wilson Lauritzen - brother of Kerry's father, Orson
This is a true story published that happened to my Dad in World War II as related by the Prophet Spencer W. Kimball. (related by Lita Lauritzen Burton)
Priesthood Power
"Priesthood nor its power knows the limitations of national boundaries. This was demonstrated many times in the conflict known as World War II. This is the story from the lips of Wilson P. Lauritzen:
We were fighting in the 'Battle of the Bulge' near the town of Ammonius, Belgium. By that time the Germans were on the defensive. We had just succeeded in cutting off or surrounding a sector of the German line. They were surrendering in large numbers. As we were disarming the soldiers, one of them said to me in broken English: 'Would you know if there are any Mormon soldiers in your unit?' I replied, 'Yes, I am a Mormon.' He asked, 'Do you hold the Priesthood?' 'Yes, I do,' I answered. 'I was married in the temple.' 'Would you be so kind as to come with me to that shell hole over there and administer to my buddy? He is pretty well shaken up, and pretty badly wounded.' Of course I consented to go. We found that his buddy was in a bad condition and was suffering much pain. Then the two of us, who a few short hours before had been on opposite sides in the bitter struggle, knelt down and administered to the wounded lad. And as we did so, I felt the spirit of the Lord very strongly. I know that that feeling was shared by them, too. As we finished, the litter-bearers were there. We lifted the broken body to the stretcher. Then our ways parted: the wounded boy was taken to the hospital; the German solder was sent back with other prisoners, and I went on with my other duties."
By Spencer W. Kimball Story Teller's Scrapbook Compiled by Albert L. Zobell
Richard Stevens - youngest brother of my mom, Ida Stevens Clemens
Thearl Stevens and wife Bertha - favorite brother of my mom, Ida
Thomas Clemens - son of my dad's oldest brother, Russell
Charles Clemens - my dad's brother
Edd Walker - granduncle of my dad, Chester Clemens
Will Walker - son of the above Edd Walker
Levi Wheeler Cline - one of my grandfathers in the Civil War
Dr. Thomas Walker - an early American explorer who we "may" connect as a shirttail relative
Robert H Stephens - one of my grandfathers who was in the Civil War
John Mullins - another one of my grandfathers
Oh, there are many, many more whose pictures I don't have, but commemorate this missive to their memory, anyway. I have found wonderful stories about them, and will include a couple of those.
!HAMMAN, PHIL. On Saturday, July 3, 1830, the fifty-fifth anniversary of American independence was celebrated at Bellefonte, Jackson Co, AL, at which among other participants were several Revolutionary patriots. After the reading of the Declaration of Independence by Henry F. Scruggs and the delivery of an oration by Hon. Samuel Moore, the company sat down to a plentiful dinner. After this many patriotic toasts were drunk. Only one, and that because of the historic fact it evoked, is here produced:
"By L. James, Esq. 'Capt. Phil HAMMAN: The Savior of Greenbrier - tho' his history is but little known, his intrepidity and patriotism are not let worthy of our commendation.' After the drinking of this toast, the old soldier rose and said: He thanked the gentlemen for introducing his name on an occasion where he had already been too much honored. Tho' his history was not much known, he could not object to have the transactions of his life divulged to the world. For nine years he had been in the wars of his country - during a greater part of which he had been engaged in the most dangerous parts of Indian service. He had suffered much; on one occasion he had been stripped by savage rapacity of every vestige of property he possessed, even the clothing of himself and family - one of his children fell a victim to their cruelty. But not to dwell on the dangers he had endured, he would merely speak of the occasion so kindly alluded to in the toast. When stationed at Fort Randolph, at the mouth of the Big Kanawha, nine hundred Indians set off in a body to make an unexpected attack on the inhabitants of Greenbrier, Virginia. Two men were dispatched to apprize the people in that quarter of their approaching danger. In three days they returned, wounded, and in despair; others were sought for who would carry the express; none were found willing to engage in so dangerous and hopeless an undertaking when he and one John Pryor (who was afterwards killed by the Indians) painted and dressed in Indian garb set off, and in forty-eight hours travelled one hundred and sixty miles through the wilderness; they overtook the Indians within twelve miles of the white settlements, passed through their camps, and gave timely warning to the people of their impending danger. Such preparations were made for security and defense as the occasion permitted. About daylight a violent attack was made on Fort Donley; the conflict was desperate - the door of the Fort was broken open - he stood in it, and resisted the enemy - 'till it could be shut and fasted. The foe were repelled with great loss, and the country saved from savage barbarity. He said that although he was old and poor, and had not received the compensation promised him by his country, yet he thanked God he was in peace and safety, and could live 'without the aid of public or private charity.' He then offered the following sentiment: "OUR RULERS: May they be just men, fearing God, and hating covetousness." Southern Advocate, Huntsville, July 10, 1830.
Zachariah Johnston's beautiful home, which is on the Historical Register and is for sale for $1,750,000 (I WANT it!) was a wonderful patriot.
Johnston was a prosperous farmer by the time the American Revolution began. In 1776, he was appointed a captain in the county militia. Johnston's company actively patrolled against Indian uprisings, and, in 1781, participated in the Virginia campaign which led to Lord Cornwallis' surrender. Representing Augusta County in the House of Delegates from 1778 to 1791, Johnston was chair of the House committee on religion and helped pass the "act for establishing religious freedom" in 1786.
Zechariah JOHNSTON was a personal friend and political ally of Thomas Jefferson. His presentation of the Hanover Memorials to the Virginia Assembly and his advocating the ideas of religious freedom held by his constituents, no doubt, had very great weight with Mr. Jefferson in formulating his bill "for establishing religious freedom," which became law in 1786. Mr. Jefferson, when leaving for a federal appointment, left his bill for religious liberty in the capable hands of James Madison."Mr. Chairman, I am a Presbyterian, a rigid Presbyterian as we are called; my parents before me were of the same profession; I was educated in that line. Since I became a man, I have examined for myself; and I have seen no cause to dissent. But, sir, the very day that the Presbyterians shall be established by law, and become a body politic, the same day Zachariah JOHNSTON will be a dissenter. Dissent from that religion I cannot in honesty, but from that establishement I will." And his name goes down to posterity in favor of the passage of the act for establishing Religious Freedom.One of his famous statements:
"Mr. Chairman, I am a Presbyterian, a rigid Presbyterian as we are called; my parents before me were of the same profession; I was educated in that line. Since I became a man, I have examined for myself; and I have seen no cause to dissent. But, sir, the very day that the Presbyterians shall be established by law, and become a body politic, the same day Zachariah JOHNSTON will be a dissenter. Dissent from that religion I cannot in honesty, but from that establishement I will." And his name goes down to posterity in favor of the passage of the act for establishing Religious Freedom.
May God bless these good men and women. I honor them, and will continue to honor them by posting this missive each and every time it is appropriate. And, as a genealogist, I will continue to look for and will find many more.
Bless their good hearts!
Taken at the Arizona Memorial, Pearl Harbor, HI on our trip to see Harmony, 2005
Monday, November 1, 2010
A busy, busy week!
This week was a bit busier than usual. But, we had a lot of fun and enjoyed some times with good friends.
Tuesday found me having lunch with my good friend, Pat Bowen. She's my visiting teacher, but she's also my friend. Neither of us had been to Cracker Barrel in awhile, so that's where we met. It was on the day when the wind was blowing hard across the central United States. The gusts were strong. And, while we were eating, it began to rain with a fierceness. Tornado warnings were out everywhere. One of them struck real, real close to Jordan and Melissa's house in southwestern Ohio. It blew their shed down and part of their fence. Thank goodness all of us were safe - including Erik and my sisters.
The next day, I ate with Karen Keck. She and I love to go out to lunch. We don't do it very often, but when we do - we pick up right where we left off. She's a lot of fun, too.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday found us in Columbus. Friday was our temple day, and we enjoyed the time we had both this week and last week with members of the Temple Presidency. This would be our last time working with them, for our new Temple Presidency begins their assignments on Monday.
Saturday, Kerry returned to work at the temple for 8 hours. They had asked if he would be able to, and he readily said yes! We have many new workers that need training, but during that training there is still a need for continuity in the work. We now have over 600 workers for our little temple!
He also didn't mind working, for it was the 66th anniversary of his parents' marriage. He felt that was honoring them, as well.
Orson and Shirley Lauritzen, shortly after their marriage in 1944.
All of the little trick-or-treaters were out and about Saturday evening. It reminded me so much of when all of our little ones would dress up and go out to beg for candy. I usually stayed at the house while Kerry took them out - either in the back of his pickup truck or in our van with the side door and the back door open.
Kerry and Peter and Harmony
Now, it's all of the little grandchildren that we get to enjoy seeing all dressed up!
JJ
Jayden
Justin
From bottom left going up: Shyanna, Bella, Christina, Angel, Ben
It was also a makeover week! I got sick of my hair and had about 4 inches cut off. I'll post a picture of it next week.
And, dear Melissa got 10 inches of her hair cut off and donated to Locks-of-Love. She looks adorable!
Melissa - I love her hair no matter what the length!
Now, it's time to bring all of this election stuff to a close. I'm tired of the adds, the phone calls, the mail, the email, the slandering and mudslinging. I've known who I'm going to vote for since mid-summer. Y'all quit bothering me.
But, I'm also grateful to live in a free country where we have the opportunity to vote.
This month, we wish a happy birthday to:
Ida - my mom - Nov 1 (she would have been 97 years old!!!)
Bill - Kerry's brother who died in Germany at age 19 - Nov 2
Mary Kay - my genealogy friend who died about 4-5 years ago - Nov 2
Ryan - Betty's grandson - Nov 3
Sarah - d/o Kerry's brother, David - on a mission in New Zealand - Nov 12
Noelle - g-dau of Kerry's sister, Content - Nov 27
Danette - d-i-l of Kerry's sister, Joy - Nov 27
Dane - s/o Kerry's brother, Kelly - Nov 28
Brett - s/o Kerry's sister, Joy - Nov 29
Miss Harmony! - our daughter!!! - Nov 29
And a happy anniversary to:
Content and Larry - Kerry's sister and b-i-l - Nov 28
And now, for my memory missive for this week!!!
This memory is not mine - it's Kerry's. But every time he tells me about it, I can't help laughing.
When Kerry was somewhere between ten and twelve years old, he decided to take a bath while his mom was cooking in the kitchen close by. He was #5 out of eleven children, so I'm sure her plate was pretty full most of the time.
Apparently the bathroom and the kitchen were fairly close in proximity, so she could hear when Kerry went in there to begin running the water. She called back to him to ask him how full it was.
He answered, saying that it was halfway. (In truth, it was halfway - but not halfway up - it was halfway to the back of the tub.)
She told him to immediately turn it off. (She thought it was halfway up the side of the tub.)
He said, "But, mom..."
She replied, "Kerry, please just turn the water off!"
Being the ever obedient child, he did it without complaint. This big ol' strapping boy took a bath in about two cups of water!!! He got clean enough, and his mom just never knew...
I'll bet she does now.
Kerry - at just about the age mentioned above...
Tuesday found me having lunch with my good friend, Pat Bowen. She's my visiting teacher, but she's also my friend. Neither of us had been to Cracker Barrel in awhile, so that's where we met. It was on the day when the wind was blowing hard across the central United States. The gusts were strong. And, while we were eating, it began to rain with a fierceness. Tornado warnings were out everywhere. One of them struck real, real close to Jordan and Melissa's house in southwestern Ohio. It blew their shed down and part of their fence. Thank goodness all of us were safe - including Erik and my sisters.
The next day, I ate with Karen Keck. She and I love to go out to lunch. We don't do it very often, but when we do - we pick up right where we left off. She's a lot of fun, too.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday found us in Columbus. Friday was our temple day, and we enjoyed the time we had both this week and last week with members of the Temple Presidency. This would be our last time working with them, for our new Temple Presidency begins their assignments on Monday.
Saturday, Kerry returned to work at the temple for 8 hours. They had asked if he would be able to, and he readily said yes! We have many new workers that need training, but during that training there is still a need for continuity in the work. We now have over 600 workers for our little temple!
He also didn't mind working, for it was the 66th anniversary of his parents' marriage. He felt that was honoring them, as well.
Orson and Shirley Lauritzen, shortly after their marriage in 1944.
All of the little trick-or-treaters were out and about Saturday evening. It reminded me so much of when all of our little ones would dress up and go out to beg for candy. I usually stayed at the house while Kerry took them out - either in the back of his pickup truck or in our van with the side door and the back door open.
Kerry and Peter and Harmony
Now, it's all of the little grandchildren that we get to enjoy seeing all dressed up!
JJ
Jayden
Justin
From bottom left going up: Shyanna, Bella, Christina, Angel, Ben
It was also a makeover week! I got sick of my hair and had about 4 inches cut off. I'll post a picture of it next week.
And, dear Melissa got 10 inches of her hair cut off and donated to Locks-of-Love. She looks adorable!
Melissa - I love her hair no matter what the length!
Now, it's time to bring all of this election stuff to a close. I'm tired of the adds, the phone calls, the mail, the email, the slandering and mudslinging. I've known who I'm going to vote for since mid-summer. Y'all quit bothering me.
But, I'm also grateful to live in a free country where we have the opportunity to vote.
This month, we wish a happy birthday to:
Ida - my mom - Nov 1 (she would have been 97 years old!!!)
Bill - Kerry's brother who died in Germany at age 19 - Nov 2
Mary Kay - my genealogy friend who died about 4-5 years ago - Nov 2
Ryan - Betty's grandson - Nov 3
Sarah - d/o Kerry's brother, David - on a mission in New Zealand - Nov 12
Noelle - g-dau of Kerry's sister, Content - Nov 27
Danette - d-i-l of Kerry's sister, Joy - Nov 27
Dane - s/o Kerry's brother, Kelly - Nov 28
Brett - s/o Kerry's sister, Joy - Nov 29
Miss Harmony! - our daughter!!! - Nov 29
And a happy anniversary to:
Content and Larry - Kerry's sister and b-i-l - Nov 28
And now, for my memory missive for this week!!!
This memory is not mine - it's Kerry's. But every time he tells me about it, I can't help laughing.
When Kerry was somewhere between ten and twelve years old, he decided to take a bath while his mom was cooking in the kitchen close by. He was #5 out of eleven children, so I'm sure her plate was pretty full most of the time.
Apparently the bathroom and the kitchen were fairly close in proximity, so she could hear when Kerry went in there to begin running the water. She called back to him to ask him how full it was.
He answered, saying that it was halfway. (In truth, it was halfway - but not halfway up - it was halfway to the back of the tub.)
She told him to immediately turn it off. (She thought it was halfway up the side of the tub.)
He said, "But, mom..."
She replied, "Kerry, please just turn the water off!"
Being the ever obedient child, he did it without complaint. This big ol' strapping boy took a bath in about two cups of water!!! He got clean enough, and his mom just never knew...
I'll bet she does now.
Kerry - at just about the age mentioned above...
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