Arvel & Charlotte Dean

Arvel William & Charlotte Clarice Stephens Dean

Kids: Stephen, Marsha, Judith

This story was shared to me by my aunt, Deanna Murphy, regarding Grandpa Dean:

He was a cowboy, living on a ranch in Wyoming. One particular day as he was walking alone along a gulch on his property he found himself suddenly sinking in quicksand. The harder he fought to get out, the more deeply he became buried. It seemed he was being pulled by an unseen force downward, and he could not escape its grasp.

He was entirely alone, unable to move, and did the only thing he knew to do. He bowed his head and began to pray. He prayed for help. He prayed that he would know how to get out, or that he would be sent help in some way.

Then he opened his eyes and began to wait in faith for the Lord to answer His prayers.

Now, in that moment, Grandpa was deep in the heart of his own property. He was entirely alone and away from anyone who could have heard his voice for miles around. It would have been futile to yell for help. He had no idea how he would get out of the quicksand he found himself in.

Yet, in his aloneness, his stuckness, the Savior did have a plan for his deliverance.

Eventually, and unexpectedly, not long after he concluded his prayer, a stranger emerged from the sagebrush. Grandpa had never seen him before—and never saw him again. He said little, but threw him a rope, and pulled him to safety. Grandpa pulled the rope off, and began to brush off the sand from his clothes, and inside his shirt, cleaning himself up.

When he turned to thank the stranger, he was gone.

Grandpa’s prayer had been answered, in a way that had touched him deeply. He always wondered who his benefactor was, and if the Savior had simply sent him an angel to help him in his time of need.

Carl & Elizabeth Hirschi

I never knew these great-grandparents. My middle name is Elizabeth after my Grandma Elizabeth; the name means "my God is an oath" or "my God is abundance.” Even though Grandpa was a little rough around the edges, he had a good heart and raised two amazing sons.

Carl Edward & Gladys Elizabeth Dorney Hirschi

Kids: LaVall, Sherwood

I asked my mom, Heather Thompson to share any memories she had of her Hirschi grandparents. Here's a few:

Grandma Gladys Elizabeth:

1.  They always brought us birthday gifts (until my Grandma died).  This was special because we never got birthday gifts or cards from G&G Cheney (which I understand—they had way too many grandkids to keep up with).

2.  My Grandma got stomach cancer when I was 7.  They finally sent her home to die because they couldn’t do anymore for her.  She had to be fed through a feeding tube into her stomach and was pretty much bound to a bed or a wheelchair.  My Grandpa didn’t feel like he could care for her so she came and lived with us until she died.  I remember sitting on the bed and visiting with her—I was turning 8 in May and so we would talk about that and she told me about when she got baptized (although I don’t remember those details now).  I remember she would come to the table and eat breakfast with us when we had cream of wheat, which was the only thing she could swallow; otherwise, my mom would feed her through a feeding tube.  Looking back, I realize my mom was a saint through all of this.  She had a young busy family of her own and took constant care of her mother-in-law.

3.  I vividly remember when she died.  On Halloween night, our ward always had a huge Halloween carnival and everyone went to it—we never went trick-or-treating.  That Halloween I had tonsillitis and couldn’t go to the party…sad sad day.  That night, my dad took all of my siblings to the party and I stayed home with my mom and Grandma.  My mom surprised me with my very own carnival.  She got stuff for a fish pond and her and Grandma held up a blanket while I got to fish for prizes.  I think she had also made some cookies for me to decorate.  It’s one of my fondest memories of my mom—that she would work so hard to give me a special Halloween amidst everything else she had on her plate.  The next morning, I stayed home from school because I was sick, and my mom got all my siblings ready and off to the bus.  Then I went in to Grandma’s room with her to wake Grandma up and get her fed and ready for the day, but she didn’t wake up.  She had passed away during the night.  My mom called Carolyn Allen in our ward who was a registered nurse to come check her.  Through it all, I never felt scared or even really sad, I just knew that Grandma had finally moved on to a better place.

Grandpa Carl:

1.  He was a small man, always looked a little unkempt, with scruffy whiskers and hair that needed a trim.  He always wore jeans, leather boots, a button up flannel shirt and a leather cap (which was ALWAYS cocked to one side of his head—never on straight).

2.  He had a gruff voice—probably from smoking.  He always rolled his own cigarettes—I can still see him in my mind rolling a cigarette.

3.  When he saw us he would always ask “well whatta you know?”  Becky told me that she used to get anxiety over seeing Grandpa because she knew he was going to ask her “whatta ya know” and she never knew what to reply.

4.  He used to ride the clutch on his truck.  The truck (which would get very low mileage) would have to have the clutch replaced frequently because he rode it all the time.

5.  He was a swearin’ son of gun.

6. After Grandma died, whenever we would go to help him on the ranch, he would feed us TV dinners.  As a kid, I loved it!  I thought they were the coolest things and they were something we would NEVER get at our house.  When we were renovating the lodge and we were without a kitchen for a couple of weeks, I bought some TV dinners one night that were on sale, thinking that would be a great dinner.  You guys hated them, and I must admit, they weren’t nearly as good as I remembered them as a kid, haha.

Judd & Elva Thompson

This is the most beautiful couple, just look at them! Although I never knew Grandpa Judd, I love and respect him so much. I feel like he was one of my guardian angels on my mission and I feel a great familiarity when I hear his stories.

Grandma on the other hand, I did grow up with. She has to be one of the sweetest and most spiritual women that have ever lived. Her life is a testimony that miracles do happen and she was a blessing to all who knew her. I love them both so much and I know that even now, they are aware of my life, my faith, and the decisions I face each day.

Judd Walter & Elvira Hopkins Thompson

Kids: Dallas, Bonnie

Today I want to share a story from Grandma's life:

It was while I was eight years-old that I had diphtheria, and that experience had quite an impact on my family.  The little Bennett boy, who lived in the south west part of town near the black hill, came down with diphtheria, and the entire town panicked. They sent for vaccine to be brought in for everyone in town, but before the kids in my school got inoculations, I went to play with a friend from school. We were playing jump rope and all of the sudden I felt as if my head was on fire and my throat hurt something awful. The mile and a half home was a mighty long walk.

My mother put me to bed and started doctoring me, but I kept getting worse. I doubt that anyone suspected what was wrong with me at first, but since Loey and Lisa both had perfect attendance records at school, they didn’t want to take a chance on catching anything that might cause them to miss school. They moved over to live with Aunt Libbie and Uncle Will next door. Both of them were so smart they sipped several grades and they were in high school at a very young age. We didn’t have a telephone, but Dad went across the street to Kemp’s place, and he tried several times to call Dr. Woodbury to try to get him to come to our house, but he was staying at the Bennett’s home around the clock in an effort to save their five year-old boy who had diphtheria. He was the only doctor in town at the time as far as we knew.

One afternoon a neighbor told Dad that there was someone sick at the Squires’ home, which joined our place on the west about half a block away, and they were sure a doctor was coming out there. Dad walked down there and stayed on the sidewalk near the Squires house and waited to catch the doctor. He did get him to come on up to our place, but it wasn’t the old Dr. Woodbury. It was Clair Woodbury, the son of the old doctor. He had just finished his internship back east and was on his way to Las Vegas to begin his practice of medicine. He stopped in St. George to visit his parents. When he found his father so overworked and tied down at just one place, he decided to stay and try to help out.

He diagnosed my problem as diphtheria and said that he knew of a new kind of antitoxin, which had been tried at the hospital where he interned. He believed it might save me, and he also had shots to give to the rest of my family to prevent them from catching it. Mother had already had diphtheria when she was a child so she was safe, but I got a big shot in my hip and he gave shots to all the rest of the kids in the family. Then he put up a quarantine sign and no one could leave our yard or enter it.

The shot he gave me took awhile to work and I was only half conscious for a few days. I could hear people talking but I didn’t pay any attention to them. One day I did hear Mark ask someone if I was dead yet. I heard my Dad say, “For goodness sake, don’t talk like that. Can’t you see how upset your Mother is?” I could hear Mother crying and I guess she must have been completely exhausted. Right after that Grandma Homer gave up her apartment down by the temple and she moved to our place to take care of me. I don’t know where Grandma slept or if she ever had a chance to sleep for I was in a coma for quite awhile. I wasn’t dead, but I wasn’t really alive.

Finally one day I woke up and looked around and the first thing that I said was to ask where all the people went. Mother asked me what people I was talking about and I told her it was the ones dressed in white who were singing that beautiful song. I remember that the people were sitting in choir seats which were arranged like were in the St. George tabernacle and the Salt Lake tabernacle. They were all in white, but I don’t think it was robes. I got the impression that they were dressed like people are in the temple. I only remember actually seeing women’s faces, but I’m sure I heard men’s voices. They were singing the song, “The Holy City.” Now, that is not a song that an eight year-old would have learned in Sunday school or primary, and as far as I knew I had never heard it before. I listened to that choir sing it over and over until I had memorized every word of every verse and I was able to repeat it to my mother and Grandma Homer. I still remember every word of it.

Marion & Alice Cheney

1 John 4:11

“Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.”

Marion Selar & Alice Lee Rawls Cheney

Kids: Marie, Twila, David, Nita, Delbert, Lowell, Dorren, Julian, Darrell, Nolan, Lynn, Nadine, Mardell

Story:

Perhaps one of my favorite love stories is that of Grandpa & Grandma Cheney. Marion served his mission in Texas and became aquainted with Alice & her family, they started a branch in the family’s home. At the conclusion of his mission he set Alice & his sister up as “pen pals.” Later he decided that he wanted to write her too, and their courtship began took place completely through letters.

Alice’s family couldn’t afford to attend the wedding, they simply sent their beloved oldest daughter off on a train, who reunited with her fiancé in Salt Lake City and they were married immediately.

Thirteen kids and many years later, their family legacy is one of work, joy, and fulfillment. Though I never knew Grandma Alice, Grandpa Marion lived until he was 98 years old. He was an artist and always painted portraits of us. I am so grateful for this beautiful couple and the generations that have been affected by their goodness.