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Show 2 , TIMPANOGOSTIMES November 17, 2010 ' ' - - - - -- - . spgggfc rr II It,,. , J J, t -, II. by Marcella Walker In reading the Timpano-go- s 'l imes, I am really excited about all of the service proj-ects our school children are working on during the year. There have been numer-ous articles about some of the fund raisers, activities and pro-grams the schools have held so far this year and there will be many more before school is out in the Spring. Teachers are some of the busiest people I know and yet some of them, along with help from the administration and volunteer parents, are helping the students to come up with seme great fund raisers and they have been very success-ful. When I was in school we donated to the Red Cross and March of Dimes and things like that and we got a little pin to wear. Of course that was back in the dark ages, but vvc did do things. But what the children along with their teachers and special helpers do now is amazing. If a child becomes ill and needs special medical care that the parents may not be able to afford, the school the child goes to will come up with unique ideas for fund raisers to help out and it is wonderful what can be accomplished. It is a lot of work for those who plan and carry out these programs but I know from exp-erience- that they are very re-warding in the end. When my children were in school, 1 tried to support the PTA and served as a room mother and so forth, and it was fun and made me feel good, but what they do now is so much more worthwhile and invaluable to the recipient of any kind of help. Giving is not just with the school kids, either. I have no-ticed that many Boy Scouts are doing Eagle projects which in-volve helping someone out who needs special assistance. My husband and 1 try to help these young men out if we can be cause I know the project is go-ing to help someone who really needs it. Our youngest daughter re-ceived second and third degree burns on her leg when she was a toddler. She spent a whole month in the burn unit at Pri-mary Children's Hospital and I spent each day with her. I had four other children who were older but they needed loving care, too. My husband's fam-ily helped so much. His sister-in-la- w tended the children after school, his mother took care of the and neighbors were wonderful offering help, meals, and much more. They gave us moral support worth Omuch more than money. Everything turned out fine for our daughter and she has had no serious after effects from that injury. But because of our experience, we have donated many monetary gifts to Primary Children's Hospital to help pay back for all the assistance we received when we really needed it. I just want to compliment all of those who help out with these fund raisers which aids people who often cannot help themselves. I know from expe-rience that it means a lot more than you will ever know to a family in need. Sometimes, all someone needs is a kindly word, an of-fer of assistance, or just good old moral support. Try it and you'll find that you like the good feelings you get inside very much. Thoughts From The Garden... by Tonya LeMone There are four unbroken rules when it comes to Thanksgiving: there must be turkey and dressing, cranberries, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie." John Hadamuscin's Down Home' (1993) Cranberry sauce has become a traditional part of our Thanksgiving Dinner. However, as a child, cranberry sauce was opened and plopped on a plate straight from the can and carefully laid on its side and sliced and arranged on a plate very artistically. The questionable slices were then never touched only looked at by those partaking of the feast, so why even include this blob of red at our meal? After many hours of tutoring by Martha Stewart, I realized that the cranberries of my youth were merely a tradition that no one dare to eat mainly because we didn't know what the big red blob was or how to eat it, was it a jam or just for decoration? North American Native Americans were the first to use cranberries as food. Native Americans also used cranberries for wound medicine and dye; it is also thought that they may have introduced cranberries to starving English settlers in Massachusetts who incorporated the berries into traditional Thanksgiving feasts. A settler in the Cape Cod town of Dennis in 1816 was the first to farm cranberries in the United States and then later exported to Europe as quite a delicacy. Are cranberries a part of the unbroken rules of Thanksgiving at your house or are they as foreign to your family as mincemeat pie is to ours? How do you use cranberries in your Thanksgiving meal? Is it plopped frorn a can or cooked to perfection as a condiment to the main event... the turkey? For me, I buy my cranberries fresh, follow the directions on the back of the package, the recipe that adds orange zest. It is so easy, possibly easier than opening the slimy can of cranberry "whatever" and plopping it on the plate. I make it the morning of and let it sit to gel and serve it up in the prettiest silver bowl I have, specifically for cranberry sauce. Very few actually eat it with the meal, but it is the cold turkey sandwiches after Thanksgiving that my cranberry sauce becomes the main attraction. I have also found another use for cranberries that many may not have considered, I use dried cranberries in my stuffing. Yes, I still stuff my bird with dressing, but it is not your "cook on the top of the stove" dressing. It is the dressing that uses dried bread cubes, sauteed onions and celery a touch of mustard and chestnuts if you dare, fresh cut sage, parsley and thyme from the garden (you can still cut your sage and thyme this time of year, even if there is a layer of snow, but the parsley is in the greenhouse) and then a generous hand full of craisins. The combination of the salt and the sweet is a symphony to the taste buds. As the seasons turn and my mind seems to focus more on the kitchen rather than the garden, I begin to plan for the most wonderful meal of the year, our Thanksgiving Feast. I would have to agree with John Hadamuscin when he said the four unbroken rules of Thanksgiving are turkey and dressing, cranberries, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, I love them all and they are the center of our Thanksgiving Feast. See you in the Garden..... zBSSfbumm .jz i ..... A . ' I, too, see the miracle that brought me here to this situa-tion and this moment. Maybe fate doesn't ex-ist, but maybe it can for those who believe it. I don't think that life is just fate, that that is all it's about and that it can't be changed. But I do believe, that we can create fate. Like a quote I have above my bed, " It is not circumstances, but our choices that determine our des-tiny." By what we choose to do today, by who we choose to be, it can lead to a great fate. It can interweave us into another per-son's heart and soul, whether it be a great friend or a future spouse. This stirring that pushes me like an ocean current is something special to my heart. by Marissa Walker Fate. How would one de-scribe this phenomenon? Is it true? Or is it something hu-mans believe in to make ex-cuses for what happens? May-be, it is a silly notion. Maybe it doesn't exist but maybe to a point it does. Thinking about the con-tinued flow of my life, I see how it has been painted step by step. I can see where it had to be unweaved and then intri-cately rewoven. Each decision marking a flow of colors and patterns. But as I think about one of the most important de-cisions ever made in my life, I can't help but feel divinely guided to create this master-piece. As my story unfolded about how and when and why I met and chose to marry my fiance, Cristian, I saw how it was sewn, how it was con-structed, and most of all guid-ed. The seamster that works my tapestry of life has helped me to move to where it is now, to a beautiful piece of creativ-ity and enlightenment. It had led me to Cris. The circum-stances around which we met and dated could not have been just happenings. To me, it was fate. As I contemplated how he got to even be here, how much his parents gave up, I, too, felt an overwhelming sense of grat-itude and divinity. As I looked back at my life, my family, my parents, all they have done, I thrive off of feelings. I am a very emotionally driven per-son. I believe and I sense it.... then... 1 know it. And maybe "Moments" continued on Page 3 "Band of Brothers" - John said that when he was growing up he enjoyed fixing things and would help all the neighbor kids fix their bikes and tricycles. John's father had an old Model T frame he was going to make into a trailer. Ike Jacobs had an old engine he wasn't using. John could see the makings of a car. He found a roadster body in the city junk yard located above the canal. Somehow John got the roadster body on the Model T frame, and eventually got some tires, too. Since the engine did not work, John would get someone to pull his new "roadster" up the hill and they would coast it down the hill past George Little Paul's home. George Little Paul, the grandfather of our current Police Chief Tom Paul, served as a local policeman. Eventually, George Paul told John that he couldn't keep rolling his roadster down the road. Ole Christiansen, the father of Parley Christiansen, helped John get the engine running. In October of 1939, John completed the requirements to served three years in the Pacific during World War II. Absent from cemetery memorial service was Boyd Fugal, who also served in World War II. The once healthy American is now fighting for his life, as he once fought for his country. John Hilton was part of a band of brothers. John and his three brothers began and lived life in harmony. In life they could not be separated and in death they will be bound together forever. Their story is compelling. It was a hot July day in 1924 when John and his twin brother Joe entered this world. John and Joe were bora in their parent's home located at 488 North 500 East. The doctor was so concerned about the health of their mother that he just handed the new baby boys to the father while he attended to the mother as she teetered between' life and death. The twin boys each weighed less than two pounds. . Father Joe cleaned the tiny infant twins the best he could and placed them in two shoe boxes. Father Joe Hilton put the boxes on the oven door hoping to keep the infants warm. The new babies were not expected to live long. On September 7 father Hilton blessed the boys and the twins lived. John lived to celebrate his 86"' birthday last summer. Joe and Glade will add even more candles to the cake in the coming years. Brother Barney has already gone on to his reward. John said that they lived a pretty normal life for the times up in "Monkey Town". Back in the 1920's the Hiltons had an outhouse up by the barn. Their home initially had two rooms in the front and a lean-t- o kitchen that had been added on to the original two room home. The boys had to milk cows, get coal and cut kindling for the stove, so they could keep warm, cook and have hot water. John had one pair of shoes he wore to school, church and doing chores. He attended Central School just around the corner from their boyhood home. become an Eagle Scout. Fred Shoell and Calvin Walker were his Scout leaders. At the age of 15 or 16, John learned to play his brother Barney's saxophone. He didn't take lessons. He just figured it out on his own. John got good enough that Howard Nelson asked John to be in his band and the group went all over playing for $2 or $2.50 a night. Sometimes they would get home so late it was just in time to attend school. John said that the only thing that got him through school was his music. In May of 1942, John graduated from Pleasant Grove High. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor the previous December and the United States was, at war. John was trained as an aircraft engine mechanic at Utah State Agricultural College and worked at Hill Air Force Base. His twin brother, Joe, was drafted so John enlisted in the army in September of 1943. He served on nine islands in the Pacific before finishing his duty in January of 1946. The war had taken its toll on John. He returned home weighing just 112 pounds with yellow skin from taking medication for Malaria. While serving in the military, John Hilton learned that God really answers prayers. The compelling story of this band of brothers will continue in the next edition of the Timpanogos Times... by Mark Bezzant On the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, during the eleventh month of the year, hundreds of friends and family gathered at a house of worship to pay their final respects and bid farewell to a great American, a giant, even John Neal Hilton. At the same time and on the very same day another group of Americans gathered at the Pleasant Grove Cemetery to honor American Veterans, including John Hilton, who r.. -c-nS""- I TIMPANOGOS TIMES SUBSCRIPTION i , Name: : Check Check amount: i Make check payable to "Timpanogos Times" . i Mailing Address: CC - 1 1 lyear$40Q 2year$77Q 3year$113 4year$152Q Exp. Date - CC Billing Zip. , All credit card subscriptions will be shredded 1 Mail to: 11 S. Main St. Pleasant Grove, UT 84062 (801) 785-311- 1 timpanogostimesyahoo.com V26i , |