Larter ~~Curtis~~ Osburn Obituaries ~ Submitted by Judy Malkiewicz

Old North Ward Church ~ Demolished May 19, 1952

Here we see the North Ward Church, Social Hall on the right and Hamilton Elementary in the background.  All these buildings are no longer standing.  We have been told that the bell from the old North Ward church hangs in the steeple of the new chapel that replaced the old chapel.

In this photo you can see the roof of the Mt. Pleasant Carnegie Library  in far background (It is still standing )

In the middle we see the North Ward Church being demolished.  The red brick building is the old Hamilton School, and the far right is Social Hall.

Valentines From the Past ~ Alice Hafen Collection

Oh how I wish I could scan these in 3D.  I love old Valentines

 This little girl with a guitar has movable parts.  If you

pull downward on her extended red bow, she strums

the guitar.

On the back it says "To Alice from Louise".  

1925

This 3 D Valentine was given to JoAnn Hafen  (Granger) from

Mary Louise Madsen (Seamons)

It pulls from the bottom revealing a mirror on the inside of the trunk 

that says "My Valentine, I Love You Best"

On each side are honeycomb hearts.

Just lovely.

You can see on this one the white envelope pulls open the message inside "Be My Valentine".

When the envelope pushes back, it reveals a little guy that says " Say You'll be Mine Won't You Please".

You Probably guessed.  The fan moves up and down on this cute little Kitty.

This one is so beautiful.  

It opens up in many layers.

On the back 

"To Alice Peel from Chariton"

1922

SCANDINAVIAN SAGA

 Have you ever wondered why and when some of the Scandinavian L.D.S. Saints left the church?  
Utah History to Go answers a lot of questions you might have concerning  what was going on at that time in Utah History.  Thanks to Sam Stewart and Judy Malkiewicz for both their questions and also their research. 

SCANDINAVIAN SAGA 

Peoples of Utah 

by William Mulder 

http://historytogo.utah.gov/people/ethnic_cultures/the_peoples_of_utah/scandinaviansaga.html

Jay Monsen

August 24, 1933  ~  February 10, 2013

Our beloved Father, Grandfather, Great Grandfather and Brother, Jay Monsen, passed away peacefully at his home in Mt. Pleasant, Utah on February 10, 2013. He was struggling to overcome a battle with cancer, which took his mortal life but not his spirit, and he was surrounded by all of his children and many of his grandchildren as he drew his last breath.
Jay was born on August 24, 1933 in Mt. Pleasant, Utah, the oldest of three sons born to Sheldon and Inez Monsen. He spent his early life in Mt. Pleasant, learning to love sports, broadcasting, his country, and the Lord. After graduating from North Sanpete High School in 1951, he attended Snow College. His education was interrupted when he was drafted into the army, and he spent two years, mostly in California, as a medical orderly.
After his stint in the army, he was encouraged to attend BYU, where he studied Communications and Speech. While at BYU, Jay was attracted to the raven-haired beauty, Lauretta Young Monsen, whom he married for eternity on March 9, 1957 in the Manti Temple. Lauretta was his earthly companion for 55 years, until she unexpectedly passed away last Easter Sunday. Dad tried to continue on after her passing, but it was no secret that he missed her dearly, and his sadness was a testament to the love he felt for her.
While in high school, Jay had dreams of being a great basketball player. These dreams were cut short when he didn’t make the team his junior year. Not to be discouraged, he became involved with a radio station at the High School, which operated on a radio transmitter taken from a surplused World War II destroyer. He started calling games in high school and continued on with this vocation at Snow College, and later BYU.
Over the course of his life, he estimated he broadcast over 2500 sporting events. These broadcasts included games with KSUB radio in Cedar City, Utah, when he broadcast many events involving CSU (later SUSC) athletic teams. He also broadcast countless High School games, sometimes doing as many as 8 games a day during the High School State tournaments. After eleven years in Cedar City, Jay spent two years at KSL, and two years working on Congressman Gunn McKay’s staff in Washington, D.C.
In 1972, Jay received a job offer to come and work at KBYU in Provo, Utah. This was the same year that LaVell Edwards became head coach, and Jay had an idea to use the facilities and talent at the University to record and tape delay re-broadcast BYU sports on the University’s PBS station. Like Lavell’s football team, the idea of having basketball and football on TV took off, and Jay became passionately involved with BYU’s athletic teams. His vision and passion became the impetus for the wider coverage that BYU athletics enjoys today. His involvement continued until just a few years ago, when he was still broadcasting BYU’s women’s basketball games, whom he affectionately referred to as “my girls!’
It was a great honor for Jay to be inducted into the Utah Sports Hall of Fame and the BYU Sports Hall of fame, but his great legacy is the one of love and compassion he showed to everyone who crossed his path. He has a very quiet, but strong love of the Gospel, and he served faithfully his whole life in every calling he was given. His two favorites were as Bishop, where he influenced countless youth, and as a Temple worker with his wife in the Manti Temple. He was also involved in countless family gatherings, and he was always there for athletic events, baptisms, weddings, and mission farewells and homecomings.
Jay is survived by his seven children: Sheldon Ronald and Debbie Miller Monsen of Richfield Utah; Jaye Lynn and Mark Robison of Provo, Utah; David Evans and Shellie Moore Monsen of Orem , Utah; Lauri Ann and Ken Grier of Macedon, New York; James William and Karen Cresswell Monsen of Payson, Utah; Joseph Paul and Luciana Rodrigues Monsen of Orem, Utah; and Jeanne and Ramon Elias Tejada of Mt. Pleasant, Utah. He is also survived by 36 Grandchildren and 14 Great Grandchildren, and his two brothers, Stephen and Lois Monsen of Winter Quarters, Iowa, and John and Vi Monsen of North Salt Lake. A special thanks goes to his daughter, Jeanne and her husband, Elias. Their unending love and faithful watchfulness over him these last few months were an example of love that will always be remembered by Jay and the family.

Funeral services will be held Tuesday, February 19th at 11:00 a.m. in Mt. Pleasant, Utah under the direction of Bishop Brotherson of the Mt. Pleasant 3rd Ward (295 South State, Mt. Pleasant, Utah). There will be a viewing at the Church one hour before the funeral, as well as Monday night, from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. at the Rasmussen Funeral Home at (96 N 100W, Mt. Pleasant Utah). Interment will be in the Mt. Pleasant City Cemetery. 

WASN'T THIS US?????? ~ submitted by Carol Corcoran

GREAT TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE This is worth reading. HEY, WASN'T THIS US ? A little house with three bedrooms, one bathroom and one car on the street. A mower that you had to push to make the grass look neat. In the kitchen on the wall we only had one phone, And no need for recording things, someone was always home.  We only had a living room where we would congregate, unless it was at mealtime in the kitchen where we ate. We had no need for family rooms or extra rooms to dine. When meeting as a family those two rooms would work out fine. We only had one TV set and channels maybe two, But always there was one of them with something worth the view. For snacks we had potato chips that tasted like a chip. And if you wanted flavor there was Lipton's onion dip. Store-bought snacks were rare because my mother liked to cook and nothing can compare to snacks in Betty Crocker's book. Weekends were for family trips or staying home to play. We all did things together -- even go to church to pray. When we did our weekend trips depending on the weather, no one stayed at home because we liked to be together. Sometimes we would separate to do things on our own, but we knew where the others were without our own cell phone. Then there were the movies with your favorite movie star, and nothing can compare to watching movies in your car.

Then there were the picnics at the peak of summer season, pack a lunch and find some trees and never need a reason. Get a baseball game together with all the friends you know, have real action playing ball -- and no game video. Remember when the doctor used to be the family friend, and didn't need insurance or a lawyer to defend? The way that he took care of you or what he had to do, because he took an oath and strived to do the best for you.

Remember going to the store and shopping casually, and when you went to pay for it you used your own money? Nothing that you had to swipe or punch in some amount, and remember when the cashier person had to really count?  The milkman used to go from door to door, And it was just a few cents more than going to the store. There was a time when mailed letters came right to your door, without a lot of junk mail ads sent out by every store. The mailman knew each house by name and knew where it was sent; there were not loads of mail addressed to "present occupant."

There was a time when just one glance was all that it would take, and you would know the kind of car, the model and the make. They didn't look like turtles trying to squeeze out every mile; they were streamlined, white walls, fins and really had some style. One time the music that you played whenever you would jive, was from a vinyl, big-holed record called a forty-five. The record player had a post to keep them all in line and then the records would drop down and play one at a time. Oh sure, we had our problems then, just like we do today and always we were striving, trying for a better way.

  

Oh, the simple life we lived still seems like so much fun, how can you explain a game, just kick the can and run? And why would boys put baseball cards between bicycle spokes and for a nickel, red machines had little bottled Cokes? This life seemed so much easier and slower in some ways. I love the new technology but I sure do miss those days. So time moves on and so do we and nothing stays the same, but I sure love to reminisce and walk down memory lane. With all today's technology we grant that it's a plus! But it's fun to look way back and say, Hey look, guys, THAT WAS US! --

THE PHYSICAL AND PSYCHIC WOUNDING OF LEE R. CHRISTENSEN

Taken from Lee R. Christensen's book "You Knew Me As Buddy"

1ST LIEUTENANT 229TH FA BATTALION

28TH INFANTRY DIVISION, WWII

I reported for active military duty 3 March 1941. I separated from service 26 December

1945 after 4 years, 9 months, 24 days of service.

Three years five months after reporting for active duty I was on a foreign field face to

face and within artillery range of the enemy. During those 3 years 5 months I trained in the mountains, the desert, the swamps, off landing crafts, with the Navy, against pillboxes; was jumped on by paratroopers, rolled over by tanks.  My primary unit, the 229th FA Bn spent 9 months in combat. I was with them two different times totaling 4 1/2 months.

When the 28th Division crossed Omaha beach 22 July 1944, I was battery executive,

C Battery 229th FA Bn, in charge of the four howitzer crews and their 105 mm howitzers.

C Battery moved into firing position prepared to fire on the enemy for the first time at dusk 30 July. We fired our first combat mission 0700 1 August according to the battalion history.  I had not remembered we fired from this position. Our fire was in direct support of the 112th Infantry Regiment who were to take Hill 210 on the outskirts of Percy, France.  At 1130 I was told to report to Bn Headquarters, prepared to go forward as liaison officer, 1st Bn 112th Infantry.

I shaved, ate lunch, collected my gear, told my howitzer crews to shoot straight and fast and I would have them in Paris in a week. Then I reported to Bn ready and eager to move forward.

At battalion I was told I was replacing Captain Miers who had been wounded. His jeep

was waiting to take me to 1st Bn Headquarters. On the way forward I saw Lieutenant Colonel Huff, 229th FA Bn commander, and Major Hall sitting in the Colonel’s command car and I waved to them. As I drove by 112th Infantry Regimental Headquarters, I saw Captain Ferguson.

Waved but did not speak with him. He was Bn liaison to Regiment. My jeep, it was now my jeep, dropped me off on a sunken, tree lined lane between two hedge rows. I walked the 150 yards to where Murtaugh and Hensley - I knew them from my service in A Battery - were waiting with the radio. I was near the Infantry Bn Headquarters and with either the reserve rifle company or the Heavy Weapons company. There was a single widely spaced column of riflemen moving through a break in the hedge row and up the hill.

On joining my radio crew they told me they had no communications. They had laid

no wire and the radio was not working. I told them that unless we can talk to our Fire Direction Center we’re wasting our time here, I told the radio operator to get the jeep, go back to battalion and get a radio that worked. I also discussed laying wire to Regiment.

About then I heard an incoming shell. I hit the ground face down. I do not recall the

explosion. I do remember the sharp stabbing in my lower left rib cage. I knew I had been hit. I was terrified. I knew I had been hit and remember thinking “I’ve been hit but I’m still alive.”

I got to my feet. In a manner, less than heroic, I asked someone to look at my back.

The commander of the Heavy Weapons Company, I knew him by sight but not by name, said, “I’ll look at you Lee.” He sprinkled sulfur powder on the wound and put my compress bandage over it.

Murtaugh said he would get our jeep and take me to the aid station. I walked part way

down the lane, then stretched out in a foxhole along side a dead German while Murtaugh went for the jeep.

At the aid station I stretched out in the grass - it was in an open pasture - was given

morphine and waited. I recall being moved 2-3 times during the evening. At one point

Lieutenant Colonel Huff came by and saw me. I asked him not to end the war until I got

back. At another stop, probably the Division aid station, a chaplain I knew talked with me.

 By now it was dark. Then there was an ambulance ride, four of us. No one said a word. I do not know who my wounded companions were or of what army. By daylight I was in a field hospital.

At the hospital I was ambulatory. Even ate a few slices of canned peaches.

During the early evening, about 24 hours after I had been hit, I was taken into the

operating tent. As I recall it was a brightly lit tent interior with white sheets along the walls and ceiling making it even brighter. There were 12 or 14 operating tables.

It was daylight when I regained consciousness, back on a stretcher in a ward tent,

fully bandaged from hips to nipples, an IV bottle on its staff above my head, a tube in my left arm. But my most vivid memory on awakening was wondering why my right hand was bandaged. I could not recall being hit in the hand.

It was not until 3-4 weeks later when a nurse decided to replace what by then was a

dirty bandage that I saw the shell fragment that hit me. It was the size of the first two joint of my little finger, ragged, sharp and by now rusting. A keepsake from a thoughtful surgeon.

My field hospital stay is mostly a memory of long days, long nights confined to a narrow stretcher. Occasionally a patient around me would die; then a flurry of activity. 

Nightly a ward nurse would give me a rectal sleeping pill. I don’t recall any meals. Every other day a doctor would punch a long hollow needle between my ribs and suck out the bloody fluid. At one point I was transferred to a second field hospital as my first one packed up to follow Patton.

This transfer caused the most painful incident of my wounding experience. The second

hospital failed to pick-up on my removal and re-bandaging schedule. When at last they

removed the bandage the tape was fused to my skin. As they peeled off the tape it pulled skin and flesh with it.

After three to four weeks I was flown to a base hospital in England, near Perham

Down Salisbury. I remember clearly the pilot who flew me across the channel. He was

dressed for a night on the town except for house-slippers. Had on dress blouse, pinks, visor cap and house slippers. I remember thinking this man is fighting a different war than the one I left. On our arrival in England I forgot to notice if his lady friend met the plane.

My stay in the base hospital was mostly card playing, reading and ping-pong as my

mending accelerated. I was now ambulatory. An indication of my returning health was my first bowel movement in nearly five weeks.

About mid-October I was transferred to a rehab hospital - the Country Club we called

it - to begin the physical conditioning that would prepare me to fight again. We took short hikes, 3-5 miles, did calisthenics, played volleyball, and took cultural trips - one to Stratford- on-Avon. I continued to mend.

One reason for my rapid mending was my desire to rejoin my unit at the front. I was

then and I am to this day embarrassed by my short - measured in minutes - first combat

action. After three years five months of training, I’ve always felt I should have lasted more than 15 to 20 minutes. I owed both my Country and the enemy more than that.

I’ve titled this autobiographical drama, The Physical and Psychic Wounding of Lee

R. Christensen. I’ve described the physical wounding, the psychic is more difficult to define. But if you grew-up, as I did, reading Hubbard’s Message to Garcia, exalting in Lord Nelson’s “England expects every man to do his duty,” heroically fighting to the last man with the Spartans at Thermopylae, then, when your combat time comes you move forward into battle ready to close with the enemy and prevail for Flag and Country.

I was ready. I went forward with anxieties but not fearful. I was as the cliché goes

- gung ho, I lasted 20 minutes.

From the Battalion History

Early in the morning of 30th July the 229^th FA Battalion moved forward to occupy our first combat positions...  At 0700 on the morning of 1 Aug ‘44 the battalion fired its first combat mission, battalion 60 rounds, in support of the 112 Infantry Regiment’s attack on hill 210 northwest of Percy, France. 

Additional Note:  Mt Pleasant’s Battery A 204^th FA Bn was in the neighborhood and had been on the line for about a week. When the 3rd Army was activated at high noon 1st Aug the Bn was transferred to the 3^rd Army and in combat frequently fired in support of the 5^th Inf Div.

KATHY;    I'm forwarding  the first comment I've received on the "wounding"
story.  This comes with a copy of the "press" I gave to it - to about 30 of
my e mail friends.  The lay out looks great and in spite of its length easy
to read.  Thanks.   lee

-----Original Message-----
From: Deanna Dowell  ]
Sent: Monday, February 11, 2013 12:14 PM
To: 'Lee R Christensen'
Subject: RE: Lee R. Christensen's Photos and Stories From Mt. Pleasant

Wow!!! What a story!  You are a Hero, Lee.  Thank you for keeping us free.

-----Original Message-----
From: Lee R Christensen t]
Sent: Sunday, February 10, 2013 10:28 AM
To: Bill Kooreman; bob scanlon
Cc: Curtis Parks; Diana Ressler; Deanna Dowell
Subject: FW: Lee R. Christensen's Photos and Stories From Mt. Pleasant


http://leechristensen.blogspot.com/    Blogspot ALERT:   The administrator
has notified me that she will post my WW2  "wounding" story to my Blogspot
Monday Feb11.   She did not tell me if it would be  in red print for blood
or blue for hero.  It will of course have my Purple Heart hanging from the
title.  lee

W.D. Candland & Sons, Mt. Pleasant, Utah ~ submitted by Bob Candland

Guy L. Candland, along with one of their prize Rambouillet sheep..  He was very capable in many ways, including probably building the barn. He attended Utah State Agricultural College in Logan and wanted to pursue law or other professions, but his father thought animal husbandry was more economically sensible so he eventually, along with his father and brother, Royal Candland, ran the WD Candland & Sons sheep business.

MASONIC LODGE HOLDS ELECTION and MISS HOPE CANDLAND DIES

"BLACK HAWK" IN THE CITY

Joseph S. Day & wife Johanna P. Bertlesen Home ~ Researched by Tudy Barentsen Standlee

Jefferson Tidwell Called by Death ~~November 21, 1913

The Jefferson Tidwell Family Standing by Mt. Pleasant's Pioneer Marker
Courtesy of Marlane Harless