Please let us know who each of these are by posting a comment below. If you want to see the pictures enlarged, left click on the picture and then after it is enlarged, left click again and it will get bigger.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Pictures Diane Keller sent
Please let us know who each of these are by posting a comment below. If you want to see the pictures enlarged, left click on the picture and then after it is enlarged, left click again and it will get bigger.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Recollections of Grandpa and Grandma Moulton by Sid Moulton
My earliest memories of Grandpa and Grandma centered , of course, around their house on Center Street, in the middle of Heber. It was a modest white frame house surrounded by lawn; and a break of tall straight poplar trees on the right side just at the back of the house. The universal coal shed was on the right. Just behind the trees further back was a long row of empty chicken coops separated from the house by an open space which had been the garden. There was another small shed on the left behind the chicken coops which served as a tool shed.
Since Grandpa died when I was ten, I don’t remember when there was any chickens in the coop. But, they stood as though it had only been yesterday. There was even a barrel of wheat in the feed room which separated the coops into halves. We would take a handful of wheat and by chewing, create gluten and then chew it as gum.. I remember that there was a pile of old boards in front of the right coop. We were attacked and stung one day, as we played in the back, by a nest of yellow jackets that came out of the wood as we jumped around on it. We all ran to Grandma’s to be nursed for the stings.
The center of my fond memories was the kitchen. I remember coming into the kitchen with Dad, and Grandpa, sitting there, took me on his knee and talked to me. I knew, as I looked into his face, that he loved me. It was the face of a man who had worked hard all his life ,wrinkled and weathered,. But above all, it was the face of a very kind man who smiled a lot.
Early morning in the kitchen was an experience all it’s own. The sun streamed in it’s east facing window and filled the room with light. Grandpa set at the table reading the newspaper, while Grandma fixed us breakfast. The radio was on and tuned to a show in which Leonard Friendly talked, read poetry and played music of a light and happy nature to bring in the new day. There was a bird cage near the big window on the north side of the kitchen and in it, a small yellow canary named “Dickey “sang his heart out to welcome the morning.
Grandma stood before her great wood and coal burning kitchen range fixing breakfast. It was a great stove with a large flat cooking surface. A spacious oven in which many a Thanksgiving turkey had been baked , not to mention cookies, cakes, rolls and bread. It also kept that kitchen and half the house warm. There was a galvanized water tank standing next to it as tall as a man! It became heated by the water jacket in that stove. The warming ovens stood as high as your head and it was trimmed in chrome. The food she produced there on was the delight of my childhood. This morning, she was frying bacon and scrambled eggs and a strange looking dish for Grandpa. I asked for some of Grandpa’s stuff and she replied, almost with disgust, “ Sid, you don’t want any of this.” She didn’t explain why but I later I learned it was calf brains.
During the time I was growing up, Grandpa was an operator at the Heber Light and Power plant some five miles north of the city on route 40. It was a tall building built from limestone quarried from the great deposits left by the geo thermal springs in Midway. The walls were built on a great concrete slab which served as base to the two hydro turbans and their generators. The water came from two removable dams across the Provo River that was about 3 or 4 miles further north and flowed into a great wooden flume to the power house. I remember visiting there with my dad. while he was working. The water gushed from the turbines to a cavity beneath the plant and found it’s way in a canal back to the river. There was a foot bridge across the torrent as it flowed out and Grandpa loved to sit on that bridge fishing for the white fish and brown trout “as long as your arm“, which seemed to thrive in that fast water beneath the plant. If you crouched on that bridge peering into the depths of that cold water once in a while you could catch a glimpse of those fish.
Long after Grandpa died, we lived in the house directly across the road and Dad worked in that same plant. But, we preferred to catch fish “as long as your arm” literally in the river. There were times when we resorted to means other than rod and reel.
My father, Glen, who was also known as “Lefty”, had a marked distaste for cats. He would tolerate them outside for mouse control purposes, but, never inside. I learned that he inherited that distaste from Grandpa. We already know that he was a bird lover because of “Dickey” the canary. I was told that he would occasionally put up with having a cat around the house for the sake of his daughters. But, about the time little piles of feathers began to appear on the lawn, the cat would mysteriously disappear. It was a long ride to the power plant!
These memories, and many more. formed in loving association with aunts, uncles, and cousins, from both sides of the family, bound me to the true principles of happiness. They formed the basis of who I am, making me a branch of this great tree, drawing strength from the same roots deeply planted in God’s garden. I will be forever indebted to this family and am grateful for it. Sid Moulton
Since Grandpa died when I was ten, I don’t remember when there was any chickens in the coop. But, they stood as though it had only been yesterday. There was even a barrel of wheat in the feed room which separated the coops into halves. We would take a handful of wheat and by chewing, create gluten and then chew it as gum.. I remember that there was a pile of old boards in front of the right coop. We were attacked and stung one day, as we played in the back, by a nest of yellow jackets that came out of the wood as we jumped around on it. We all ran to Grandma’s to be nursed for the stings.
The center of my fond memories was the kitchen. I remember coming into the kitchen with Dad, and Grandpa, sitting there, took me on his knee and talked to me. I knew, as I looked into his face, that he loved me. It was the face of a man who had worked hard all his life ,wrinkled and weathered,. But above all, it was the face of a very kind man who smiled a lot.
Early morning in the kitchen was an experience all it’s own. The sun streamed in it’s east facing window and filled the room with light. Grandpa set at the table reading the newspaper, while Grandma fixed us breakfast. The radio was on and tuned to a show in which Leonard Friendly talked, read poetry and played music of a light and happy nature to bring in the new day. There was a bird cage near the big window on the north side of the kitchen and in it, a small yellow canary named “Dickey “sang his heart out to welcome the morning.
Grandma stood before her great wood and coal burning kitchen range fixing breakfast. It was a great stove with a large flat cooking surface. A spacious oven in which many a Thanksgiving turkey had been baked , not to mention cookies, cakes, rolls and bread. It also kept that kitchen and half the house warm. There was a galvanized water tank standing next to it as tall as a man! It became heated by the water jacket in that stove. The warming ovens stood as high as your head and it was trimmed in chrome. The food she produced there on was the delight of my childhood. This morning, she was frying bacon and scrambled eggs and a strange looking dish for Grandpa. I asked for some of Grandpa’s stuff and she replied, almost with disgust, “ Sid, you don’t want any of this.” She didn’t explain why but I later I learned it was calf brains.
During the time I was growing up, Grandpa was an operator at the Heber Light and Power plant some five miles north of the city on route 40. It was a tall building built from limestone quarried from the great deposits left by the geo thermal springs in Midway. The walls were built on a great concrete slab which served as base to the two hydro turbans and their generators. The water came from two removable dams across the Provo River that was about 3 or 4 miles further north and flowed into a great wooden flume to the power house. I remember visiting there with my dad. while he was working. The water gushed from the turbines to a cavity beneath the plant and found it’s way in a canal back to the river. There was a foot bridge across the torrent as it flowed out and Grandpa loved to sit on that bridge fishing for the white fish and brown trout “as long as your arm“, which seemed to thrive in that fast water beneath the plant. If you crouched on that bridge peering into the depths of that cold water once in a while you could catch a glimpse of those fish.
Long after Grandpa died, we lived in the house directly across the road and Dad worked in that same plant. But, we preferred to catch fish “as long as your arm” literally in the river. There were times when we resorted to means other than rod and reel.
My father, Glen, who was also known as “Lefty”, had a marked distaste for cats. He would tolerate them outside for mouse control purposes, but, never inside. I learned that he inherited that distaste from Grandpa. We already know that he was a bird lover because of “Dickey” the canary. I was told that he would occasionally put up with having a cat around the house for the sake of his daughters. But, about the time little piles of feathers began to appear on the lawn, the cat would mysteriously disappear. It was a long ride to the power plant!
These memories, and many more. formed in loving association with aunts, uncles, and cousins, from both sides of the family, bound me to the true principles of happiness. They formed the basis of who I am, making me a branch of this great tree, drawing strength from the same roots deeply planted in God’s garden. I will be forever indebted to this family and am grateful for it. Sid Moulton
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Diane Keller March 20, 2011
It is with a lot of memories that I read everyone's stories. It seems like grandma always did get stuck with the sickos. I remember that when I got the chicken pox grandma had to put me up too. They didn't want my baby brother Steven who was eight years younger than me to get them. As I recall he got a really bad case of them anyway. Poor Grandma, she should have been a nurse and gotten paid for it.
It seems that a lot of us remember chicken stories. My dad must have tried to follow grandpa's footsteps because he bought a whole bunch of biddies. My mother was not happy about that to say the least! They built pens for them in the garage and it was my job to feed and water them. They were so cute and I used to get so upset when they would keep pecking at one poor chicken or another. I tried to do intervention but the chickens would not accept therapy. My dad said it was just their way of getting rid of the weak ones. I thought that was just sick and wrong, maybe because I was such a runt myself!
Anyway, one day months later when I came home from school, all the chickens were gone from the garage, and there were large tubs of very hot water in them. Alas, it was chicken killin' time! (Luckily, dad and friends had already done that deed) but I had to help pluck those suckers and it was not a fun job. A bad experiment; Dad never did that again!
I have my mom's scrap book and she has some pictures I will try to scan. Blanche with her very young kids standing with dad in his sailor suit, pictures of family get togethers, a very cute picture of Grandma and Richard when he was in his teens or early twenties, a picture of Donna about age 12 sitting on top of a pen with some of Glen's mink feeding them etc etc.
I like hearing your stories it is fun to remember and a great way to keep track of each other.
Diane M. Keller
It seems that a lot of us remember chicken stories. My dad must have tried to follow grandpa's footsteps because he bought a whole bunch of biddies. My mother was not happy about that to say the least! They built pens for them in the garage and it was my job to feed and water them. They were so cute and I used to get so upset when they would keep pecking at one poor chicken or another. I tried to do intervention but the chickens would not accept therapy. My dad said it was just their way of getting rid of the weak ones. I thought that was just sick and wrong, maybe because I was such a runt myself!
Anyway, one day months later when I came home from school, all the chickens were gone from the garage, and there were large tubs of very hot water in them. Alas, it was chicken killin' time! (Luckily, dad and friends had already done that deed) but I had to help pluck those suckers and it was not a fun job. A bad experiment; Dad never did that again!
I have my mom's scrap book and she has some pictures I will try to scan. Blanche with her very young kids standing with dad in his sailor suit, pictures of family get togethers, a very cute picture of Grandma and Richard when he was in his teens or early twenties, a picture of Donna about age 12 sitting on top of a pen with some of Glen's mink feeding them etc etc.
I like hearing your stories it is fun to remember and a great way to keep track of each other.
Diane M. Keller
Memories posted by Jeannine Sumpter
Hi Moulton Cousins!
It has been fun reading all of your “Grandpa & Grandma Moulton memories”. Reading them has sparked some memories of my own. I can see Grandma in her apron standing at the back door waving to us as we left her home. Every time she made mother cry as we drove away. Now mother sits at her window and waves when we drive away.
I remember helping Grandma kill chickens. That was nothing for her. She would catch a chicken with her long hook, wring their neck and cut their heads off. That is where I learned “Like a chicken with its head cut off” really meant. I watched a few run around their garden until she could get them caught again and dropped into the pan of boiling water. Then she would quickly pull out all the feathers and soon the chicken would be in the kitchen sink. It wouldn’t be long before it was in the pot on the stove and we had it for dinner. That wasn’t anything for her. She did it so easily I was amazed. I also enjoyed gathering eggs with Grandpa. He so enjoyed working around in the garden and with the chickens. I think he really enjoyed his grandchildren being there with them.
I came down with scarlet fever when we were visiting them one summer and I had to be quarantened there with Mother and Mary Dawn for two long weeks. I’ll bet that was a long two weeks for Grandpa. Grandma didn’t mind though. I had a bed by the window in the living room and my dad could only come and wave at us through the window.
I remember sleeping in the small bedroom very often. There wasn’t heat in that room and we would get ready for bed in the living room by the heater, then we would run as fast as we could and jump into bed and hide under the comforter. I didn’t like to get up in the middle of the night because the floor was so cold.
I remember that metal food storage cupboard also. Grandma always had crackers in there and it was always fun to go there for a snack. The cellar frightened me, and I didn’t like the damp smell, but I always enjoyed the fruit we got down there.
Mary Dawn & I loved to play in Donna’s closet and try on her shoes, clothes, especially her Wasatch High band uniform. We loved to put that on and pretend we were in a parade. We must have driven her nuts, but she was always good to us.
We would follow the pea wagons going to the cannery and sit on the side of the curb and eat peas from the vine that would fall as the wagon lumbered down the road.
I loved to go to the fair in Heber every August. One year Grandma gave me a new purse and I think I had a dollar in change in it. I left in on one of the rides and I was broken hearted. I went to find it, but I never did. I thought I had lost something very valuable. Grandma and Grandpa were always very patient and kind with us, and I loved to go visit them.
I have enjoyed hearing from all of you. It’s great to have all of your addresses and it’s good to keep in touch with you. I hope we can see each other sometime this summer.
Jeannine
It has been fun reading all of your “Grandpa & Grandma Moulton memories”. Reading them has sparked some memories of my own. I can see Grandma in her apron standing at the back door waving to us as we left her home. Every time she made mother cry as we drove away. Now mother sits at her window and waves when we drive away.
I remember helping Grandma kill chickens. That was nothing for her. She would catch a chicken with her long hook, wring their neck and cut their heads off. That is where I learned “Like a chicken with its head cut off” really meant. I watched a few run around their garden until she could get them caught again and dropped into the pan of boiling water. Then she would quickly pull out all the feathers and soon the chicken would be in the kitchen sink. It wouldn’t be long before it was in the pot on the stove and we had it for dinner. That wasn’t anything for her. She did it so easily I was amazed. I also enjoyed gathering eggs with Grandpa. He so enjoyed working around in the garden and with the chickens. I think he really enjoyed his grandchildren being there with them.
I came down with scarlet fever when we were visiting them one summer and I had to be quarantened there with Mother and Mary Dawn for two long weeks. I’ll bet that was a long two weeks for Grandpa. Grandma didn’t mind though. I had a bed by the window in the living room and my dad could only come and wave at us through the window.
I remember sleeping in the small bedroom very often. There wasn’t heat in that room and we would get ready for bed in the living room by the heater, then we would run as fast as we could and jump into bed and hide under the comforter. I didn’t like to get up in the middle of the night because the floor was so cold.
I remember that metal food storage cupboard also. Grandma always had crackers in there and it was always fun to go there for a snack. The cellar frightened me, and I didn’t like the damp smell, but I always enjoyed the fruit we got down there.
Mary Dawn & I loved to play in Donna’s closet and try on her shoes, clothes, especially her Wasatch High band uniform. We loved to put that on and pretend we were in a parade. We must have driven her nuts, but she was always good to us.
We would follow the pea wagons going to the cannery and sit on the side of the curb and eat peas from the vine that would fall as the wagon lumbered down the road.
I loved to go to the fair in Heber every August. One year Grandma gave me a new purse and I think I had a dollar in change in it. I left in on one of the rides and I was broken hearted. I went to find it, but I never did. I thought I had lost something very valuable. Grandma and Grandpa were always very patient and kind with us, and I loved to go visit them.
I have enjoyed hearing from all of you. It’s great to have all of your addresses and it’s good to keep in touch with you. I hope we can see each other sometime this summer.
Jeannine
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)