WILLIAM more Stories

My parents were humble, righteous, 'Salt of the earth' people who loved the LORD and their families. They were strong pioneers and believed in being the best they could be.

Dad served in the military and fought in World War I. The only thing I can remember him saying about his time in the service, was that he was on a ship headed to  France when the Armistice was signed and the ship turned around and headed back home.  He was disappointed because he really wanted to  see parts of Europe.
One day Dad asked my sisters and me to help him set some fence posts in cement, as he was either building or repairing a fence.  We were goofing off in the house and forgot about the fence. An hour later, we remembered and raced out to the field where he was working. We thought for sure this time he would be angry with us.  When we reached him we apologized profusely. He wasn't angry, in fact I never saw my father get angry, never.  He had found some large rocks to brace the posts until the cement hardened. Dad believed life was too short to waste on anger.

Dad needed to sell  our livestock and so we never killed any of them for  food with the exception of our chickens. Mother killed one each Sunday, she was a very strong woman- none of us was willing to do that. We killed a deer for venison each fall for our meat. In Idaho at the time to go on a deer hunt you needed to put your name (age 16 or over) in the draw.  Dad put in his, mom's, and my name each year. My name was drawn two years in a row.  You can imagine how happy a sixteen year old was to get up in the middle of the night, tromp through snow in freezing cold and wait for sun up to find the deer. I didn't complain, not out loud anyway, as my Aunt Jane was always with me. She was like all my dad's siblings, always telling funny stories, always laughing. I loved being with her. Dad would  dig us a small snow cave and with our hot chocolate and laughter the time passed quickly.  Now I had to learn to shoot a 22 rifle and so Dad and I practiced shooting at fence posts. I was finally able to at least hit the target somewhat respectable.  While I was willing to hold the rifle, there was no way I was willing to draw a bead on any living thing. Dad shot our deer and immediately handed me the rifle, just in case a Game Warden was near by.  My cousin Thales (we were the same age and he also had the permit) wanted to shoot his own deer. He was Aunt Jane's son and it was o.k. with her. He wanted to use a 30.06 rifle and both my Dad and Uncle Wesley told him it was too powerful and had a mean kick.  They said the 22 rifle was plenty of firepower. He didn't listen and when he pulled the trigger, it knocked him on his  behind.  As soon as we knew he was o.k. I laughed and told him you should listen to your elders, then Aunt Jane and I laughed some more; it was the look on his  face.

Dad was a good hunter and an excellent fisherman. He could catch the  fish with his bare hands, there is an art to it.  We spent many hours with him and Mom fishing. Mom didn't fish but read while we walked up and down the streams looking for a good fishing hole, mostly we just caught a good sunburn. We all learned to love being in the great outdoors.