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Show wwwx’ “DHE OGDEN VALLEY NEWS Page 11 May 1, 2006 Good Times and Bad Times, Part II tives, or loved ones on the battle front. In the summertime, I slept in the sleeping porch. I liked it here because it was cool at night as well as the day. It was well away from the rest of the family, and we had access to the great out of doors at night without being questioned. My buddy Bud Thompson and I went for long bicycle rides at night. We had a hideout in a cave in the pasture where we kept a sack of Bull Durham tobacco. We went there occasionally at night and smoked a cigarette and talked about girls Always, after I was twelve years old, one of my jobs was to get up early and drive the horses from the pasture to the corral. I enjoyed the trip down the lane and through the pasture. In the cool gray dawn, the world was alive with the song of birds. Peg squirrels barked and whistled at me and dared me to throw rocks at them, which I did. Through the dew soaked grass, I chased the horses up the lane to the barn. Jim had the mangers filled with hay and the grain boxes filled with oats. By this time, my mother would have breakfast ready; and what a breakfastit was. We worked hard and we consumed prodigious amounts of food— bacon, eggs, and hash brown potatoes were always on the table. Pork chops or sausage with biscuits and brown gravy was a favorite of mine. Hot cakes that just fit on a dinner plate, cooked to a golden brown, often took the place of biscuits. Ham was no stranger to our table. We had a year’s supply of hams and slabs of bacon stored in the wheat bins in the granary. Scrappie, a mixture of pork and corn meal, fried to a golden brown, was also a favorite food of mine. Cornmeal or oatmeal was also always on the table. It is hard to realize the great amount of food that was consumed at our home until you realized that there were nine members of the family, plus from three to seven hired men around mother’s table. After breakfast, we milked the cows and separated the cream from the milk. At 7:00 a.m., the day’s work began. If my job was to mow a field of hay, I had my team hitched to the mowers, and ready to go by 8:00. I enjoyed mowing. I liked to see the stocks of hay fall like soldiers facing a Gatling gun. As the mower passed, grasshoppers, crickets, mice, rats, and toads and frogs raced for the protection of the standing hay. These creatures were always racing for the center of the field. The last swath was a massacre. These animals were literally cut to ribbons by the racing knife. Occasionally, ducks or grouse would be caught in the last swath and were cut to pieces. One year, I killed a mother duck, and because the babies were very small, they survived. I placed Readers Asked to Support Historical Preservation Effort The OGDEN VALLEY NEws is calling for photos, articles, stories, and/or short vignettes about individuals’ memories associated with the old Liberty Church that was recently destroyed by fire. These gathered and collected items will then be presented to, and preserved at the Valley Historical Library in Huntsville for all to enjoy. We'd like to thank our readers who have already made contributions to this effort. Hard or electronic copies will be accepted. Please send items to: OGDEN VALLEY NEWs PO BOX 130 EDEN UT 84310 Or email them slfrancis@att.net to crwendell@att.net Thank you, Shanna Francis & Jeannie Wendell, OGDEN VALLEY NEWS them under a hen that wanted to be a foster mother. She did well until the ducks discovered a ditch and the mother almost went crazy trying to get them out of the water. 12:00, we unhitched the horses, fed and watered them, and then sat down to another sumptuous meal. This was the light meal of the day and consisted of steak or fried chicken; mashed potatoes and gravy; salad; and cake, fruit, or pie for dessert. We were back in the fields by 1:00 p.m. and kept the horses walking until 6:00 when we unharnessed them and turned them into the pasture. At 6:30 or 7:00, we again sat down to the table. While it was pretty much of a replay of the noon meal, it was the big meal of the day. The menu featured beef, pork, or mutton; potatoes and gravy; and corn on the cob or other vegetables from the garden. There was always a delicious dessert. My favorite was ice cream. The ice cream was a delicacy not enjoyed by many Valley people. The ice came from an ice house we shared with the Ritter family. You might wonder how we were able to keep meat on the table at all times. The pork was salted and smoke cured. Once a week, a fat lamb was slaughtered. The meat could be kept for several days by placing it in the cool cellar in the day time and hanging it out in the cool air at night. Three or four families would be involved in the beef caper. The Stallings family would slaughter a fat beef and cut it GOOD TIMES cont. on page 12 Historical Photo * Please note: The following is Part II of Chapter Six of a series of accounts by Howard Stallings of his life growing up in Ogden Valley. November saw the sugar beet harvest in full swing. The beets were dug, topped and loaded on freight cars at the Swineville Station. We children were not required to play a major role in the beet harvest. Men were hired to top and load the beets and the hauling was done by the regular hired men. The tops were cut from the beets by men using long knives with a hook on the end. The topper would straddle the center row and be in easy reach of three rows. He would drive the hook into the head of a beet, raise it up, grasp it with his left hand, and, with a mighty swing, sever the top from the beet. After several beets were topped, the topper would take two steps forward and would be in easy reach of several more beets. The toppers left the beet tops in neat windrows running the length of the field. Most of the farmers plowed their beet tops back into the soil for fertilizer. Not so my father. Because of an abundance of labor, he decided to put them in a pit and feed them to the livestock. Several October Saturdays were devoted to hauling beet tops and throwing them in the pit. The pit was about twenty feet long, ten feet wide, and perhaps four feet deep. It took many, many loads of beet tops to fill that great cavity in the earth. When the pit was full, my father, with a team of horses and a scraper, would cover the tops with earth and seal it from the air. In the winter, it was opened and the warm, stinky mess was hauled out to the cattle. They preferred it to a snow bank but would leave it for the vilest slew grass the barns had to offer. We were in the beet fields one day in early November 1918 when we heard the steam whistle at the industrial plant in Ogden blow like crazy. We knew that something important had happened. We guessed that it had something to do with the Great War then raging in Europe. We learned later that Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany had abdicated and fled to Holland. On November 11, we were again in the fields when the whistle sounded. We were sure they signaled the end of the war. A short time later, the celebrations began. Cars raced up and down the highway dragging buckets, sail, tubs, etc. Anything was used that would make a noise. People were shooting their guns into the air. Others were singing or shouting. Many times we heard the good news, “The war is over! The war is over!” We tied the team to a tree and walked to the road to watch the noisy celebration. Everyone was glad to hear that the ar was over, as most people had friends, rela- May Day celebration in the Huntsville Town Square (park) across from the Huntsville school. Picture taken around 1914. The teacher standing behind the little girls is Phylis Berlin (Fuller). Small woman off to the side is thought to be a school advisor. Young students are probably in the first or second grade. Notice the May Pole streamers in the background with girls holding them while standing in a circle. Though not certain, it seems that the school must have been having a program in celebration of spring because the little girls are holding bouquets and others are getting ready to wind the May Pole. From left to right: Ray Allen, Evelyn Engstrom, Jean Berlin (?), Virginia Felt Picture courtesy of Joanne Francom. 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